Grey sky over Pimlico

leafless branches shudder ,freezing

cold air worms its way 

round doorways and under windows

i look out from the shadows

perched on my sofa , writing

the slow rupture of the sky

by massive engines slung heavenward

the streets are relatively empty

the righteous working above

Massive foyers ,

birds whistle and wonder

at their amazing day 

up with the sun

insanity of the early hours




Half week


The weeks halfs are in my hand

like broken China

I look forward

the race half won

20 ,40 years of time split

into weekly sevens

5 and 5 and 5

seems like an eternity

but this is only a lie

and when the weeks finished

or even a day

I ride the wave in

hanging 10

sometimes ........


Great Work


amoungst the sub marine


various things must be


the monotony of


is a shallow recollection of


now each action is


the system asks only


of a previously tired


peering through


and so another face of the


granite hard



Today and Yesterday


The day is smothered by darkness,

The musicians have not been paid,

Cathedrals wallow in shadows,

Priests go home for dinner,

And sterile television,

The truth drips from stone doorways,

I have seen impossible visions,

I have gathered ideas and applied them,

Its still washing up and flower arrangements,

Outside on the street,

The rain saturates stone and wood,

The cold laughs madly and forgets nothing,

So walk home and carry your prayers,

Work on all your muscle groups,

And breath with organic lungs,

Before the sports cars tyres are bare,

Before the mechanics weep to lose a race,

The human race dresses accordingly,

You there scholar ,write your poems,

And i will burn them with idiotic matches.




The beaches are empty,

The grey sky drags along the horizon,

There's a craving for chips,

Just a few more hours of freedom,

Then sleep and the five day week,


The parks support the peoples need,

For a day of wildlife,

Sadly hemmed in by city stone,

They wander,

Then sleep and the five day week,


What will we do to fill the golf,

Shall we lose 2 hours,

In a big shinney cinemas,

Floating on clouds of pop corn,

Then sleep and the five day week,


Look to our lives,

Take this day and make it ,

feel like a month,

It might work,

Then sleep and the five day week,


A helicopter flys over,

Our big black sofa,

A car breezes by ,

Scissor legged pedestrians cut about,

Then sleep and the five day week.


Tube from Acton North

I sit dumfounded with

the monotony of it all

centre of a near empty


then the scenery

catches my eye

trees full of summer leaf


three stations till

under underground

where will my eye

find rest

tubes running along

the tunnel wall

related to my intestine

tube filling up

with characters

50s cartoon reflections

on curved corner windows

the two door exit,

worthy of a space ship

a man in an

aqua marine jumper

sits beneath an

aqua marine advertisement

there are things of interest


let me not

miss any of them

Shangri la



The sky is filled,

With unfathomable blue,

feather clouds streak,

and the sun,

a white light round and flashing,

perched high in the heavens,

glancing at it momentarily,

sun blindness,


summer time bathing,

in ultra violet.


The Mermaid


Adrift in the sea,

dancing in the waves,

caught by the tide,

surfacing, mingling with

the oceans music,

leaving the water momentarily 

to deliver one

perfect kiss 

to a drunken sailor.


Desert Sun

The sun has melted,

 Into the blue,

Under the warm seas,

I find some shade,

And have an easy conversation,

With my beautiful wife,

About life,

After an hour in the park,

She to retreated to the dark,

And now designs works on paper,

Works on canvas,

Beyond description,

Visions of landscape,

Existential ,Martian ,

From forever,

Creatures strange and new ,

Benign sea monsters,

The earth mother,

behorned  ,winged ,tentacled ,

Connecting all species,

New worlds , this world,

This paradise.


Peace on earth


The sun hangs,

Over the tube station,

silver sword rays,

cut the skys,

a seat on the,

lovely tube carriage ,

time to think,

time to pray,

drops you 3 stations on,

corridors and stairs,

aware of my breathing,

the next train,

has been stripped,

by saintly years ,

here lies a throne,

blue carpet,

skating of to the suburbs,

sliding sideways,

a myriad of bricks ,

an explosion of green green leaves,

then the street,

with tired feet,

tab up to the,

amazing super market,

and how time sculpts,

city landscapes,

in at the perfect warehouse,

under a lucky 7,

where the coffees expensive,

but you can afford it.