April 11, 2012

 

 

 

The early morning tackiness of London streets.

The deafening hustle and bustle that is city life.

Millionaires and celebrities

sitting cheek by jowl,

with vagrants and loners

in street cafes.

Whilst in Soho Park,

no sign of a nightingale or a lark.

Just the homeless

rising from park benches,

 and searching the pavements

for their first fix of the day.

A fag end will do fine,

and the choice is endless.

Some are still clinging  to a long since

emptied bottle of wine,

or maybe it was meths.

Who knows, who cares?

City slickers jauntily pass by, never raising an eye.

The white collared swells,  the ne’er do well’s,

accepting of each other.

There goes he, there go I,

but for the blinking of an eye.

They’re all in this mess together.

The streetwise pigeons

fighting over a discarded blueberry muffin,

that has overflowed along with

other junk and debris from

a city council bin.

What a din, what a mess.

There’s a balance to redress.

But to witness it, is exciting,

almost exhilarating.

There’s an earthy richness all around.

A common bond between strangers

passing on a daily basis.

Never speaking, never acknowledging one another,

yet silently existing  within their own safe, separate worlds

 

 

 

 

April 10, 2012

 

 

Let him get a word in

Let him have his say

He has some good ideas

Let him see the light of day

 

 

April 4, 2012

 

When the hurt and the

Heartache have become

Embedded in the sand

Out of nowhere an angel

Will take your hand.

 

 

 

 

Foibles and fantasies

Fresh water fish

Deep sea divers

Survivors, opportunists

Crabs and mollusc

Dolphins leaping

Sharks never sleeping

A universe forgotten

And still we dare to sail on!

 

 

March 31, 2012

 

 

You’re not alone, so don’t feel isolated,

It happens, it’s life.

We are all just as vulnerable.

 

 You just have to deal with it,

Move forward, move on.

We are all at times gullible.

 

 We’ve all been to hell and back.

It’s hollow, it’s dark.

But the crash is recoverable.

 

 

March 29, 2012

 

I heard you call my name today.

Your quiet voice whispered through the

Rustling boughs of the wind torn oak tree.

How did I know it was you?

Oh, that was easy.

For after the calling, the voice continued

‘Wake up, you silly little chump’

And in that instance

I knew you’d kept your promise

To come back and visit.

 

 

« Older Posts