Poetry

Legend has that the Robin gained his red breast from pulling the thorns out of the crown of Jesus at his crucifixion to ease his suffering

A musing about a greasy spoon girl we call Nigella from the Favela If cook's could kill then this girl is definitely licensed to grill !! she's always standing by ever ready to kill your stomach acid with her peppermint pill .

Sooner than later we as a species will have to address our crazy situation of over population due to land perish and pollution in the final stages we may well end up as refugees building flood barricades ready for the rain storm revolution .

Janine used to be a traveller with wings on her feet then Gabriel gifted her a baby daughter to drink from her teat she named her after his immortal horn the beautiful Lily now plays at her feet.

The loss of a lion's mane is similar to that of a man's hair; as it recedes, they both become timid and tame, loosing pride and prowess both these mammals are now out of the game .

A whale song dream turns out to be the huge squealing brake drums of a distant trash truck it's sound distorted by the wind gusting through gunnels and gantry's ; thrown dustbin lids cymbal into the sensetive sobriety of your very unwanted monday morning anxiety .

A little swing jazz tune written for a friend who has an extremely high sex drive it uses the feminine and the masculine tense due to the person in question being bisexual he once called him self a sexual psychopath.

A birthday poem for NENO it's called Black Rod because for the first time in Britain's thousand year parliamentary history the position is now held by a women , this spiritual and temporal appointment of power is long overdue for a changing of the guard . The willow may look soft an gentle but inside lies her heart of oak .

This is a poem I wrote about the catastrophic consequences of having too much cosmetic surgery, leaving many patients in a reconstructive purgatory. The surgeons are often referred to as the Picasso's of plastic, but they can end up with foot-in-mouth or tongue-in-cheek . Sculpting with scalpel the face fantastic, but sadly you're left with a gargoyle freak.

When children acquire language it sings along like a simple melody then we come along with our lexicon lego box and spoil their tune.

We use to live our lives like nocturnal belfry bats fuelled on drink and drama, cranial crashes of darkness and depression were common place an the only way to fight against them was with serotonin smarties and a daily dose of humour and laughter .

A poem I wrote for a terribly crippled girl called Daniella she lived in agony all her life but there wasn't a day I didn't see her gorgeous smile or hear her wonderful laughter , she has a soul so big and beautiful it certainly casts long shadows of perfection over my own Quasimodo anima and many others .

Every day the paparazzi serve us our blood and gore all freshly sacrificed red and raw no good being a herb eating herbivore what you've really got to be is a cover story carnivore with the stomach of a blood thirsty toreador let's face it the press room's a slaughtermans stable and the editor's desk is nothing more than a butcher's table.

The strange phenomenon of dizygotic twin estrangement when nothing of similarity seems to have been shared apart from their identical indifference that mirrored in a perfect reflection towards each other .

A poem about a cherub child called Lily who arrived so divine and right on time to save us from our our self destruction just as if Gabriel had gifted to us his immortal lily shaped horn .

A poem written about the suicidal tendencies of snails, that started out as jellyfish swimming freely in the wide-open sea. Now, I can understand why, bonded onto terra firma, they may suffer from depression or suicidal tendencies, throwing themselves to their deaths under our feet on every garden path or rain-wet street.

The building blocks of life are made from nucleic acids , Lysergic acid has also been around since the dawn of time doubtless it would have been eaten by our early primate mammalian species increasing hallucinogenic and conscious brain capability hence where the homo sapiens may have got their jump start on the evolutionary ladder the human is now beginning to experiment with the capabilities of L...

A poem written for a sibling son whose quest for frolic and fun wedge hatred in-between his brothers love by what he'd gone and done , it's difficult to understand the parable of the prodigal son especially if you're looking through the eyes of the other hard working one who through restraint and strive hath managed with diligent life toiled and tilled the farm in order to fill empty bellies and w...

A poem written for a crazy young woman who I fell hopelessly in love with during the summer of 1992 whilst working in the South of France aboard yachts in the port of Antibes . Together we stayed in a huge stone pile called the chateau Laval courtesy of Jack et Michelle Olga was a green-eyed goddess with olive skin and a temper that she'd borrowed from the dog cerberus , I was a dotting fool but h...

My words may seem a little callous and cruel that's because they are the comments I've collected and collated from the café clientele who share their space with these disabled individuals , by the grace of good fortune there walk we .

A poem I wrote about our cenotaph , every town in Britain has one of these grisly reminders to the great war and then ever war there after .At first they were a pilgrimage for the patriotic to come and worship their glorious dead but now they're used by so many different swathes of society as a place to rebel, and then there's the drunks and drug addicts who seem to favour and gravitate towards th...

It's about time the human realised that a tree is flesh and blood not just timber or a price of wood ,  these beautiful living entities give us shelter shade and our lifesaving breath ,without them we are condemning our selves to curtain death

Today there are approximately forty million slaves ten million of which are sex slaves, as before these poor poverty stricken women are used as weapons of war I was reading how some had been sold for as little as a packet of cigarettes . In the west girls become slaves working out of suburban back bedrooms or cellars they account for a third of all organised crime profits billions of dollars.

A song about an old rag and bone man who started out with just a horse and cart then after a life of skinflinting strife became very rich but even after acquiring great wealth he still retained his beggar man roots and rhetoric.

A poem come prayer for a child who never got the chance to live who never knew their love to give, if I could swap the soul of this old spive and just for one day let you live then I would gladly God forgive and trade my old soul for the life of that new born foul.