I often think.

Deep Dark I too have known those deep-dark distressing days Where life and love never gel ‘though who can really tell Whether Fate and Being Are playing games of trickery and damned deceit and what would be the point Of seizing on the day If all your dreams and illusions Are but founded on feet of clay?

Hushed Silence I have heard the hushed silence The familiar dawn-dreading isolation Of non-existence The isolate emptiness Of Day and Night Drawn overlong Becoming too familiar with passing minutes Then passing hours Every one passing with in an unfriendly rapid beat Dying in a heart crushing silence

Cat and Clock I am caught between Clock and cat Cooker and clock Cat and cooker Cooker and catering Catering and clock Writing and reading Reading and staring Hoping for a divine inspiration That rarely comes

Hope that this isn't too bleak.....Fell free to comment on here or on Twitter. All Mankind All mankind to the lie subscribes Which once told contains That prolix mendacity, That slimy unattractive altar      At which Faith, Fidelity And Trust does lie, Saving marriages by disallowing Trust, Faith and Fidelity let to fly. However in some the temptation Is too great to deny, They see beauty in another, and in The ensuing hue and cry Lust, which will always outweigh Love In any Philosophical debate Then sinks to a debase love-hate Oft times this then becomes ruinous and irate. A sexual attraction to which, they, The protagonists Forswear to which they cannot relate Both will then deny the hurt Foisted and Inflicted on partner or lover They, the guilty, remain sedate Luxuriant in their lustful gratification For in Truth, honesty is resistant to the lie.

Ring Ring Ring (see The Mother in Law's phone) 'Hello Mum' 'Oh, Hello......how did you know it's me?......' 'Cos it says on the 'phone.....' 'Oh that's clever......' 'Yours does the same you know......' 'Does it? Oh well. Anyway.....' General chat follows until mother in law says, 'Alf is out feeding the birds, we love to watch them in the garden....' I foolishly respond, 'We feed them too, we get quite a few different sorts here.......' Mum then says, 'We love the starlings with all their different colours, they are lovely.......' 'Yeah, we get them too....we also get a Blackbird that washes himself in the bird bath....' 'Black bird? You don't want them in your garden....' 'Why? They are quite nice....' 'Oh, they are horrible, what is it? Like one of those ones at the Tower of London? A crow?' 'No just a common Blackbird, it splashes about i

 Nb: If you don't want to wade through the preamble just scroll down and read the poem, it starts where the typeface changes. This is a poem I wrote after doing my extended essay on Lord Rochester for my degree. I hope that is does not alienate too many of you. Apart from his fame,wealth, intelligence, good looks, way with women, bravery and spiteful humour his biography I like to think, has parallels with my life; drunkard, sometime rebel and depressive. Graham Greene wrote a book about him called Lord Rochester's Monkey. It was self censored/abridged because of the nature of Rochester's poetry. The monkey referred to was taken from a portrait of Rochester baiting a monkey with laurels, the monkey was alleged to be Dryden whom Rochester hated. He is my 'Poxy Laureate, Sniffing and Snapping Round the Kings Throne', in this poem. Even in the early editions of David Vieth,  another of his biographers, who wrote extensively about Rochester had to abridge, and cen

  Ring, ring, ring (crescendo, crescendo, crescendo) 'Hello Mum....' 'How do you know it's me?' 'Says on the phone.... '  (this is every time, see the post below: Mother In Law's Phone) 'Oh ours doesn't do that! Alf always rings 1471'   'I phoned to find out something. What is that you've got? I've tried to tell my friend at Bingo.....' 'Hyperthyroidism......I'm hyperthyroid...' 'What's that?' 'When your thyroid overworks...' 'Like mine?' 'No, you have hypo thyroid, it's under working....' 'Under what?' 'Yours is hypo , under. Mine is hyper, over. As in hypermarket and hypodermic. Over and under. A hypodermic needle goes under the skin, a hypermarket is a big supermarket....' 'Don't know what you mean, what's a market and a hippydermic thing that you said? Over what?' 'It's working overtime..My thyroid is

The phone rings at my home. Well it 'cascades' really, I can't get over using 'rings' as a means of description. Anyway, the 'phone goes. 'Hiya Mum' 'How did you know it was me?' 'The 'phone tells me...yours does too.' 'Oh that's clever, how does it do that?' 'We programmed your 'phone, it's the same as ours. Remember you've got the same phone. Yours does it too.' 'Does it?' 'Yep....don't you remember we put all your 'phone numbers into it? That means when it rings you can see who is 'phoning you.' 'That's clever...I didn't know it did that.' 'Haven't you noticed?' 'Oh I just pick it up.....' 'But the 'phone tells you who is calling if it's in your 'phone, so you can see who is calling before you pick it up. Like I just did. Don't you remember? You can go through the directory button and just press the green