Posts Tagged ‘poems’

A love poem for Coffee.

Thursday, April 2nd, 2015

Oh dark mother, once more I suckle at your caffeinated teat.

From the bean, via steam, your emanations are all at once bitter and sweet.

With milk or alone both comforts and uplifts.

Please accept my humble thanks for your abundant gifts.

Remember my love

Sunday, December 13th, 2009

Freeze my bones, bury them deep in an icy ground, rot them long and forget them longer.

Discard my ideas, let them flutter idly onto an eternal wasteland, forever barren and unadmired.

Crush my deeds, mangle them lifeless between the granite rollers and titanium cogs of ignominy, shapeless henceforth and beyond memory.

But remember my love, offered whole, without condition and forgive the blind imperfections of the soul that seeks to please.

Remember my tears, shed freely in defenceless moments, prostrate before you and at the mercy of your pleasure.

And remember me, my love, in my condition of devotion, a deafening heartbeat silenced only when love lives no more.

Remember me. Remember my love.

A journey in time

Friday, December 11th, 2009

Lime Street
Liverpool Central
James Street
Hamilton Square
Birkenhead Central
Do not alight here!
Green Lane
Rock Ferry
Bebington
Port Sunlight
Spital
Bromborough Rake
Bromborough

andrew massing is a luxury

Friday, December 11th, 2009

andrew massing is a luxury
top shelf goods
positioned to shape
and deliver strategy

sharp of mind
and king of utility
he stands out
in a speakeasy world

authority
working to a plan
shrewd objectivity personified
he, luxuriant, rocks.

Burton Spice

Thursday, May 14th, 2009
The food here,
Is hot stuff
If you can take it,
Or simply tasty
If you can’t,
Delivered to your door
If you can’t make it
In person,
Deep karma
In the form of
Chicken korma
Tikkas all
The right boxes.

photo by Andy Benn

photo by Andy Benn

Impromptu Lunch

Wednesday, October 29th, 2008

Impromptu lunch, finest kind,

A few beers,

No such thing as a free one,

So I paid.

The kettle boils, hopefully

Tuesday, October 28th, 2008

The kettle boils, hopefully. I meant to say that I hope the kettle will boil rather than an observation as to the mental state of the kettle as it is boiling.

The tea brews; you know what I’m saying

The wife awaits, expectantly, looking forward to her first cuppa of the day.

Dutifully, I carry the tray upstairs.