I might just have one of these active yoghurts and a slice of ham
Archive for March, 2010
active yoghurt and a slice of ham
Sunday, March 21st, 2010I hear a flute
Sunday, March 21st, 2010I hear a flute
I know where it is coming from
but I prefer to think it is ethereal
it doesn’t matter anyway because
ethereal or not
I listen to it with
extreme pleasure
it stops then starts up again
sometimes haltingly
sometimes with a wonderful fluidity
scales, up and down,
pauses here and there to digest the task in hand
in my imagination I see her
sat there studying the music
perfect poise
swept back blonde hair
she is beautiful
Ears Are Ugly
Sunday, March 21st, 2010Ears are ugly, they’re unseemly, unhygienic and unsightly,
God was definitely drunk when He designed ’em.
Though it’s a shocking allegation
there’s no other explanation
for the biggest single cock-up in Creation.
A design fault falling short on technical support,
they’re repulsive little afterthoughts brought out late.
We’re supposed to have been wrought
in God’s image, so I thought,
I’d like to bet that He ain’t got none, mate!
Guest beers at the Victoria Union Road 20th March 2010
Saturday, March 20th, 2010Batemans Miss Ireland (4.1%) £2.95
Adnams Dry Irish Stout (4.3%) £3.05
Roosters Celtic Corker (3.9%) £2.95
Wychwood Paddy Stout (4.3%) £3.05
Barbecue this Sunday in the beer garden .
everybody had a favourite
Tuesday, March 16th, 2010it came out in plain English.
nothing fancy, just simple words
that we all understood and
could interpret our own way.
we had read others’,
some good and some not worth the effort.
everybody had a favourite, or two
and often quoted from memory.
time passed.
are you?
Tuesday, March 16th, 2010are you nearly ready to misbehave?
I, guitar
Tuesday, March 16th, 2010I, guitar, lie prone, in need of gently caress,
vibrations long gone, motionless, silent.
please adjust, tune me strings,
I, guitar, seek attention, lifeblood
of wooden body,
rhythm pulsates, me dance, shout,
I, guitar, burning, oxygen fanned
programmed passionata
laugh, cry, I guitar.
hotel room
Tuesday, March 16th, 2010a loneliness of worn carpet
home from no home
blanket inadequate
alarm clock neon
by flashing bed
right daily twice
shower adjacent suite
plastic toothmug disposable
towel thin, tablet soap
noises
National Heroes
Monday, March 15th, 2010“We can’t allow you heroes,” say the Fleet Street men of straw,
“our duty’s to expose them, their frailties and flaws.
We cannot sanction heroes, there’s no such thing as heroes,
we don’t have national heroes any more.
Okay, we may destroy him, his marriage, his career
with half-truths, innuendo, with fabricated smears,
but we don’t yield to sentiment, to candour or finesse,
Press Freedom can’t be fettered by fairness or largesse.
The dignity of just one man concerns us even less.
Reproach and accusations must fall on deafened ears
when we weigh emancipation against a family’s tears.
the line of the hedge
Sunday, March 14th, 2010the line of the hedge
so sharp it cuts
your view in two
dirty white above
pale green below
the dark stripe
yellow flags flutter
indicating wind
speed and direction
the line of cars
haphazard, holds back
parents delaying
the inevitable
when duty comes
before comfort for
Sunday soccer
the cold wind,
loyal discomfort
my mam and me
Sunday, March 14th, 2010my mam and me
down at the Palais
we dance to a timeless refrain,
she grooves,
makes all the moves,
life for her is a wonderful game.
keep movin’ mam
I say to myself,
climb through life’s window wide,
go out and have fun
because I, your son,
am coming along for the ride.
The drunk on the train
Saturday, March 13th, 2010The drunk on the train kept touching the man sat opposite, making his point. Probably not earth shattering stuff but I couldn’t hear because I was thankfully sat in the other half of the carriage.
It was an uncomfortable scene – the other passenger mostly stared straight ahead, hoping to ignore the drunk and not to be drawn into conversation. In vain for the poor unfortunate.
crisp white linen
Saturday, March 13th, 2010crisp white linen,
deadly silence,
occasional chink of careful crockery,
muzak – 1812 overture!
toast comes too early, always,
I try and eat without noise,
the food is good.
The Bird in Hand, Twyford.
The rusting tractor (at Collingham Station)
Saturday, March 13th, 2010Past it.
Grey paint, streaked
Massey Fergusson (maybe)
with rust and parked behind,
the station near to the pretty,
irregular rows of black septic tanks.
the loose looming gravel pit
out of nowhere
reaching machinery up towards
the watchtower.
Beers on offer at the Strugglers, Westgate, Friday 13th March, 2010
Saturday, March 13th, 2010Brewsters Marquis 3.8% £2.65
Draught Bass 4.4% £2.70
Brampton Golden Bud 3.8% £2.65
Timothy Taylors Landlord 4.3% £2.65
Brewsters Decadence 4.4% £2.75
Greene King Abbott 5% £2.75
Poachers Lincoln Best 4.2 £2.75