Bound

Just one of these things.

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When skies turn grey, horizon’s shrouded

Compass bearing wayward, lost

I find my comfort wrapped in you

and threads that bind, knit tight.

Drawing  close such warmth I find

life’s colours woven through this cloth

though mended, frayed, it’s patched with love

and never out of reach.

This love, this life, our ever more

through storms that roar and rage,

my shelter until morning comes

and sun shines on my face.

ReD

Words perhaps? Not Rhymey ones. The other type.

Lips like fire set worlds ablaze

and reckless how they run

those crimson tongues charred ruins make

and promise they turn to ash.

In sweat soaked sheets they smoulder still

the merest spark brings it to life

and lies once more sing sweetest strain

until burnt out flame fades to black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My First Book

Seems I wrote one…

I have written before about why I started my blog.  For those who missed it one of the main reasons was due to a friend who’s wife, an aspiring writer and a vile human being, insisting that anyone that self publishes does so as an act of vanity which is probably why she had never been published and for the most part refused to work.  Writers retreats she enjoyed a plenty I believe.

Anyway, perhaps I ended up proving her point, but I suggested to my friend that I would from that day forth take up writing and publish a book before she did just to prove the point that surely it isn’t that hard and perhaps if she wasn’t such a horrible cow she might have achieved more.

Anyway, the result of that rant can now be found on Amazon in the form of my first book ‘A Collection of Inappropriate Limericks.  Its only 300 or so of my limericks but it’s something I guess.  Something I made that perhaps my grandkids will hold one day and ask “What the fuck was wrong with Grandad?”

Paperback out now with the E-book to follow on the twelfth mostly because I made a mistake setting it up and couldn’t work out how to remedy it.’

Oh and I dedicated it to her too.  Seemed only right.

Paperback in the UK is here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1916089011

And in the US here

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1916089011

UK E-Book can be preordered here for delivery on the 12th of April.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07QF58TYM

 

The US E-Book is here

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07QF58TYM

 

Who’d have thought it eh…

Then

Wordy wordy lordy lordy

Regrets I’ve bundled, wrapped in hope

and set aflame to warm myself

at night as fire side burns so bright

with what and if and maybe so.

 

Instead I choose a path of is

and simply tis just how it goes

and from my tongue hyperbole

flows as the streams of passing time.

 

And cinders drift into the sky

as light illuminates my face

deep lined with things I now forget

and carefree watch them pass me by.

 

 

Yesterday

Wordy wordy

This England I now roam of green

which for another time holds dear

would at the hearth of days long gone

stand, warm itself hid from the storm.

 

Crisp cricket whites hung on the line

and tea enjoyed at summer fair,

and fingers black from Sunday papers

beckon sunset shine on her once more.

 

Dreams sweet as jam from berries tart

of who she was and could have been

from mirror turns at sight most foul

and searches for the good old days.

 

Forgetting

Wordy wordy

Bitter, time can oft erode

those things that once were sweet and true

and brackish floods filled with disdain

deposits leave, debris piled high,

obscurring paths once so well trod.

 

And lost I wander searching still

for distant lights of home and hearth

whilst stars turn black as tempest stirs

and to an end I slowly snake

and there forget your name.

 

 

Someone else’s forever

Fancy one of these?

Mouth dry, full of regrets and lies

and fading dreams of what we had

they fill my mind when eyes I close

and raging ‘gainst the lovers sunset

I thrash between these sullied sheets.

 

There in the distance, silhouette,

you walk where once we lingered long

into the night and then slip softly

hand in hand

into someone else’s forever.

 

 

 

Sunday

I’ve had flu all week so not written anything and this is the best I can muster.

Backs packed and gloom descending

as the weekend nears it’s ending

‘Monday blues’ on twitter trending

and I curse that I have not yet won the lottery.

 

For Monday, it sucks balls you see

the thought of it quite bothers me

I’ve felt this way since after tea

and I curse that I have never played the lottery.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Never alone

More Sunday word vomit

One final sleep

‘neath blankets cold

of eath and clay and stone.

 

And to my end I walk at last

no evermore, or well lived past

and to the darkness wide and vast

I enter all alone.

 

And you shall be my final thought

my life, my hopes, my joy

remember me, the things I wrought,

my kind and loving boy.

 

 

 

 

 

I turn

More Sunday word vomit

Were I to hear you call my name

and turn, to see you one more time,

a souvenir, momento of what was.

A keepsake of sweet memories

I would commit to not forget

or reckless scant attention pay

for fear of losing priceless gift.

No holding back, no front’s, no walls

this truth I’ve kept for far too long

and though again you walk away

unburdened watch you leave…

In the end

More word vomit

When old and grey still close I keep

those memories dear to my heart

and ‘fore I walk to final sleep

and lonely paths to then depart

A final time I will relive and tender recollect

each smile you gifted though I often sadly did neglect

your light by which I found my way and through the dark did chart.

Love generous and without cost

so freely gave and not repaid

and eager how I ate my fill

as sunset sank beyond that hill

were dreams way back were made.

And so at last, though late I know

you lie as pale and cold as snow

and how I wish I had the time

of days were you were always mine

 

Might I suggest – Part 2

Stupid, childish, purile and ridiculous. Meh, least I’m not fiddlign with kids or beatign my wife or listenign to K-Pop.

Hey week, yeah you, yes over here

it’s over now and how I fear

I need to let you know you suck

and right now I don’t give a fuck

about how monday made me blue

Tuesday, wednesday, Thursday too

cos Friday my balls oft caress

and leaves my trousers quite the mess

and saturday, well that’s hard core

my skimpy clad foul mouthed hot whore

Sunday will spoon me, there’s no lack

I feel it’s love pressed to my back

You did your best and hey that’s fine

something something 69!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This once

Word vomit

Those moments where you cross my mind

and fondly I recall just how

we filled our days with blissful laughter

nights I felt such warm embrace.

 

And as I linger, holding tight

to thoughts I know will soon drift off

like smoke upon the summer breeze

I live again just one more time.

 

That once, that chance, that single glimpse

that slipped away and from my grasp

relived and dearly held once more

until again or never more.

Broken

Borrowed some emotions from someone far deeper than me.

If cut then I should surely bleed

were I not drained, face cold and white,

and curled beneath your naked branches

fade for lack of love and light.

 

Roots of dismay my heart entangle

moss grows thick upon my chest

and to the earth I am returned

at last, in peace, to sleep, to rest

 

 

 

 

 

Might I suggest

Long day…just let it out I reckon.

Might I suggest if you don’t mind

you place your lips on my behind

and there remain and tender linger

and oh look, a middle finger

just for you, in fact there’s more

you offspring of a rancid whore

and siphilitic hobo dad

in fact I would be rather glad

if you succumbed to aids, grew frail

and had your mouth abused in jail

by strapping chaps called Whale and Moose

who’d leave your anus gaping loose

 

Happy Tuesday!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Forever Night

More wordy words

Eyes closed

pretending sleep

Under blankets as heavy as church roof lead

held down by the weight of the world.

Cigarette breath, yellowed teeth, finger to the lips

and harshest repercussions.

Not a word.

Don’t cry.

In the morning smile and say it’s just a dream.

A nightmare born in velvet plush and gold adorned

and echoes batter on the doors

and innocense do steal away.

No shame

No guilt

And ever more to pay.