Archive for November, 2009


Thursday, November 26th, 2009


Gannets and fulmars over
St Kilda. Pigeons on
Nelson’s Column.

Broken words

Friday, November 20th, 2009

Broken words lie impotent upon the page
Dysfunctional vocabulary – hyphenation won’t fix
Anagram no antidote to illiterate ailment
Inarticulate phraseology a lacklustre lexicon of tricks

A short introduction to the Broken Words poetry night at Decimal Place, Burton Road Lincoln on 28th November, 2009.

A nomad I

Saturday, November 14th, 2009

A nomad I, wandering these flat, people-scorched streets of sunless stone. Infinitely deep puddles crater the roads, obstructing my senses, confusing an endless search which already, unsignposted, makes no sense. Tall buildings obscure the vision and without a map make impossible a plan.

I pass brightly lit front rooms with televisions flickering through uncurtained windows, the occasional canned roar of a compliant audience sometimes audible. Not stopping in case I’m seen looking I move on and leave them to their entertainments.

Further on I come to the pub. It too is brightly lit and I can see faces leaning forwards at the bar. A log fire dances in the grate and some drinkers sit at tables either side of the hearth, warmed inside and out. More occasional laughter.

It is a Sunday and I walk by a church. Dim lighting shines through the multicoloured stained glass above. The door is open and another column of light illuminates the entrance. One of the faithful scurries past, enters and is consumed.

Arriving home at last with cold hands I fumble with my keys at the lock and open the front door. The house is dark but I switch on a light and then prod the heating. I make a cup of tea, sit in my chair and think.

Caledonian Double Dark Oatmeal Stout

Friday, November 13th, 2009

life suddenly appears in slow motion.
the brain, inspirational but ephemeral,
leaves the body and floats above the table before us.
conversation, with no physical evidence of existence
remains a permanent fading record
slowing as the battery runs down.
the door shuts and the lights go out
freezing us in no time, timelessness that is.
finishing the glass, the reality of responsibility
raises its unwelcome head and leaves for the door
which, open, sucks me into the cold wind outside.
my coat buttoned up and collar raised I, head down,
return to normality and the noisy heart of the family.

Guest Beers 13th November 2009

Friday, November 13th, 2009

Brains SA 4.2% £2.95
Copper Dragon Best Bitter 3.8% £2.85
Stonehenge Pigswill 4.0 % £2.85
Oldershaw Regal Blonde 4.4% £2.95
Caledonian Double Dark Oatmeal Stout 4.6% £2.95

A one way street named Hopback Entire Stout

Thursday, November 12th, 2009

Sometimes life comes at you full on. Maybe it can’t get any better or perhaps you get handed one of those hospital passes that smack you in the face and leave you wondering…

One sinking sip, another inhalation and a deep palateal reflection. Mesmerise into the darkness of the caramel. What a disguise! There is music but no road out. The talk flows around you just as the flavour rolls across the tongue; sensation penetration. Gentle inebriation.

A one way street named Hopback Entire Stout.

A golfer’s eulogy

Sunday, November 8th, 2009

When his game is up,
And prompts no more debate,
And life’s unerring drive,
Ascends the green of fate,

It will I’m sure be said,
By crowds that filled the gallery,
That upright was his stance,
Whilst stood upon the final tee,

And when the last put drops,
Stewards will murmur from afar,
In marking of his card,
He played his round in level par.


Sunday, November 8th, 2009

Brussel sprout flavoured isosceles triangles
available from a good gastro geometric outlet near you,
banana trapezium, its full flavour slips down well at the gymnasium,
merry go round in toffee apple infused circles,
square noises chop through imperfect ponds and
glass fronted hurricane shop windows stir up
enthusiasms not yet tempered in pink.
Estate agents spin their ceramics on
bamboo pole extensions, losing the pattern
as simply as arboreal baby castanets,
discretion being valued as highly as
enthusiasm amid the placations of the assuaged.
The fire crackles on and the guitar rests
calmly on the spots of the sofa,
notwithstanding the variously striped cushions.

Passing conversations

Sunday, November 8th, 2009

Passing conversation in the queue at one of the mens toilets in the Millenium Stadium – one person coming out talking to another going in. It lasted five seconds.

Hey how’d the MOT go?
Not bad thanks – only forty quid.
Good, got away with that then!

They continued on their separate ways.

He turned to me and said – that was my dad.


Sunday, November 8th, 2009

Ralph Lauren and Jimmy Choo,
Louis Vuitton and Prada too.
The wonders of Tiffany,
A YSL epiphany.
See the Marc Jacobs catwalks,
Read the trend debates and talks.
Heels to die for,
Dresses girls cry for.
The do’s and dont’s,
The certainly won’ts.

But never do I see
A smile upon a single one
Of those models faces.

Looks like AA Gill

Thursday, November 5th, 2009

Smart grey suit with dark lapels, grey silk Liberty handkerchief, crisp white shirt & expensive watch on his right wrist

Effeminate voice.

Completely out of place at the buffet bar on the 7.29 from Newark Northgate to London Kings Cross.

Teddy Bear

Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009

He may be small,
He may be big,
But he’s definately good to hug.
I love him to bits,
I think he’s wonderful,
and I’ve had him all my life.
Although he’s tattered and he’s torn he’s still standing tall,
He’ll still be there when I’m eighty four,
Yes thats my teddy bear.

Foods Of The Family

Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009

From an original idea from Hannah with help from Megs in the pool.

Stella, Stella, Chicken Paella,
Lily, Lily, Sausages are silly,
Meg, Meg, boiled egg,
Hannah, Hannah, bendy bananas,
John, John, tea and scone,
Joe, Joe, ate his big toe,
Tom, Tom, bacon bap bomb,
Tref, Tref, fruit instead, (NO),
Anne, Anne, dropped the frying pan,
Toby, Toby, alu gobi,
Ann, Ann, doesn’t like ham,
Sue, Sue, vindaloo,
Eileen, Eileen, ate a bean,
Tadcu, Tadcu, ate his hanky,
Mair, Mair, champion fryer!

Dark outside

Sunday, November 1st, 2009

It’s getting dark outside. The clocks went back last week and the nights have closed in on us. I like this time of year. This afternoon I cleaned the grate out and set the fire ready for a cosy evening on the settee.

As I fetched in some kindling from the woodpile at the bottom of the garden a small bird flew across the lawn and into the hedge. Getting ready for a quiet nestle in the nest for the evening no doubt.

We are all at it. All is well.