Category: Poetry

Beginnings

Lost in different ways
they case each other out
darting eyes and fidgets
betraying the nerves inside.

Bit by bit, vetted detail
unravels mind and heart,
taking turns telling truths
as time and trust collide.

Glances turn to looks
locked and charging fast
with a magic current
firing up circuit boards.

The trip home abuzz
with eagerly sent updates
fills with quick replays
dissected by the frame.

Belly Laughter

All the lists and forms
fall away in the final hour
clearing slates for friends
and all their hysteric power.

Clinks and cackles play
in our boardroom of hearts,
trading updates big and small
from since we’ve been apart.

Uncontrollably we howl
with laughter from the gut
filling the night with joy
that slams the long day shut.

Aching ribs and damp eyes
bookend a wide smile fold
charging the strut home
with a fortune we behold.

Deep And Meaningfuls

You sit calmly and silent
following my racket
giving nods and smiles
to show you’re keeping up.

Every last thread of detail
unravels in an onslaught
I’m desperate to offload
as quickly as you say ‘Pint’.

Then it’s your turn to go.

Rounds and words flow
to our pact’s usual drill
getting everything out
to devise each other’s plan.

One of these a month
keeps it all afloat
informing the next tales
we dissect, resolve and file.

Familiar Might

There’s no agenda here in one sense.
In another it’s a given we’ll each dispense
what’s on our minds behind the day-to-day fence;
hopes and fears without brave face pretence.

And then when it’s off the chest we rest
revelling, feeling blessed in the de-stress;
a mesh of heroics, hugs and in-crowd jest.
The suppressed, addressed, allows progress.

We raise our glasses, pass the light.
We plot, we party, we own the night.
We laugh. The creasing makes things right.
The dark is charged with familiar might.

There is necessity in the excess.
Neat tidy lives need occasional mess.
Discoveries take a little digress.
Moderation prevents any regress.

Well that’s one way, tried and tested.
Truths are found in counter-suggestions.
What you get back equals investments.
Never bank on a solo assessment.

We raise our glasses, pass the light.
We plot, we party, we own the night.
We laugh. The creasing makes things right.
The dark is charged with familiar might.

We raise our glasses, pass the light.
We plot, we party, we own the night.
We laugh. The creasing makes things right.
The dark is charged with familiar might.

Belonging

It’s magic how vast whatever is out there
and here we are sitting over two tiny beers
rolling through the routines of private jokes
basking in the glory of a friend’s rich anecdote
as if nothing else matters and nothing exists
but the joy and understanding, a shared bliss
we each treasure in our different little ways
and couldn’t over-indulge with genuine praise
for the hours of fortune, giving tales and facts
these moments deserve our own blue plaques
the ever-giving and ever-grateful merry band
a magnificent microscopic scratch on the land.

Angel Of Eastern Esplanade

Tin can guns
topless and bronzed
strode the bend
from Saturday song

dialling threat levels
of passers by
tote bags in hand
all boots and tie.

Waste, they thought
but wouldn’t say
judging others
against their way.

Speeding fast
he stirred a scare
with their read
of chest ink bared.

Some crossed over
turned back, slowed
at his intense focus
and sunburn glow.

He walked in road
and dropped his knees
lifting the wings
of a bird from sea.

Gently and calmly
he placed her down
on a curb of safety
as cars sped round.

With sighs of relief
judges felt no regret
of the book cover fable
they know and forget.

Cliftonville

Featured on BBC Radio Kent’s Upload on the 8th December 2022.

There’s shouting up Northdown Road.

‘Tomorrow morning. That’s it!’

Sat on a doorstep, horrorshow cold
they tangle in each other’s fits.

Passing pity gifts them a can.
Their cockles and quarrels warm.

Dawn points at the avenue home
arm in arm, unpicking the sworn.

Coffee Shop Guy

Featured on BBC Radio Kent’s Upload on the 11th October 2022.

Electric smiles
meets ad land trade
in a plywood corner shop
where gossip’s made.

Over oat milk daydreams
he loops stage show lines
scrolling down messages
that keep him alive.

He does well for hearts
but less so in tips,
waiting on agent calls
and lucky coin flips.

The routine workers
envy his auto-charm
oblivious to the comfort
they hold in their palm.

Donut At Dawn

Featured on BBC Radio Kent’s Upload on the 4th October 2022.

A chorus of squawks descended
outside patio doors at sunrise
alerting the lightest sleeper
the day was about to break.

Grazing the brick and lawn
three seagulls shrieking loud
bombarded the doughy catch
a fourth found on the cliffs.

The kettle clicked and steamed
to butter knife on toast scratches
and clinks of cupboard searches
for a jar of something sweet.

The seabirds won that morning,
beak deep in a donut’s jam
pattering atop the treasure
of someone’s day trip fail.