October 1, 2012

 

 

Confounded pigeons

with no toilet manners,

delivering their deposits

at will.

Bold as brass, they sit and squirt

upon the window sill!

 

 

 

 

Her misconstrued sense of loyalty

and his persuasive powers  became

a lethal mix.

The root of the problem needed analysis

and a miracle, paradoxical fix.

 

 

 

 

Let nature be free to survive at will

No good can become of any mass kill

Who decides when there should be a cull?

Who’s hardened heart, can the trigger pull?

 

 

 

 

He held the ticket of authenticity.

He said it was the real McCoy.

But in fact there were bloody

millions of them.

Being ripped off, short lived,

was his joy.

 

 

September 29, 2012

 

 

No matter which way the wind blows,

the back draft will catch you out.

No matter how many seeds are sown,

there’ll be no harvest if there’s a drought.

 

 

 

 

 

The Bakerloo Line,

the last place that

Gloria saw Ged.

Agreeing the match

was impossible,

they put their

experience to bed.

 

 

 

 

When the day has been a non-starter,

and you feel like head butting a tree.

Just imagine coming home in the evening,

to juicy lamb chops and me.

 

 

 

 

 

If birth came with a guarantee

that one would live to be ninety three.

What extra joy there’d be in store,

to beat the odds, and reach ninety four.

 

 

 

 

Queuing

Brewing

Stewing

 

Wooing

Doing

Booing

 

Loving

Living

Leaving

 

Crying

Dying

Lying.

 

 

 

 

 

The completeness of the moment

with all it’s complexities

is worth a lifetime of sobriety.

 

 

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