I saw a ballerina in Stocklund Square
No one else seemed to see her there
But I did - graceful and elegant, tall and fair
Shoppers from Sainsbury's just passed by
Like smoke drifting past a brilliant sight
On pointed toes? A whirl of light?
I sighed and smiled and watched in awe
A fleeting moment of beauty only I saw
And that's enough for this day
'One day like this' as Elbow say
Then the bus moved on; I went elsewhere
But I saw a ballerina - in Stocklund Square.
Meet you behind the bike shed...
Monday, 16 September 2024
Tuesday, 7 November 2023
A Close Shave
A close shave.
This week I didn't win the Lotto again
Well, phew, that was a close thing.
I don't have to work on buying and moving
Don't have to choose which cruise to use
Or ring up my ex and go ha ha ha ha ha...
That Omaze house in Devon went to another
I'd have been lost there and far from all friends
Cider with Rosie is all very well
But hey I'm a bitter man myself...
In fact i remember my ex saying just that .
Not going to the monthly meeting of the West Surrey cynical negativists and ping-pong society tonight
I mean - really - why bother?
Anyway - I'm rubbish at ping-pong.
And their table is broken. Life, eh?
Saturday, 27 May 2023
Remembering Mrs. Gray
Sometimes one thing triggers a memory
A thin tripwire that triggers an explosion
A baguette, or red wine, Boston...
And Black
Black will never be funerals and death .
Black is a midriff held sleekly tight
Lace ending on pale chest or thigh
An exotic bird that unfurls black wings
To swoop and soar and dive
Exhilarating and wonderful.
But I don't have space for the bird to fly
I need to shut it away
In the cage of memory, wings folded
Black becomes just a colour again
And reality is... Gray.
Tuesday, 1 November 2022
The season
Lost lovers
Missing friends
That slow ache
That never ends
To you this season
A glass - a toast
To you, good health
Beloved ghost.
Saturday, 9 July 2016
Did I Say That?
For all the promises never kept
Because they were never made
For all the lovers I betrayed
Because I never met themRoads never followed
As I stood still
And songs not sung
As I just talked
For all I never knew
I know not what
For all thisYet nothing
I sit alone
And weep.
Cameron Diaz ate my hamster
Cameron Diaz ate my hamster
Such a softly glowing face
And bright light blue eyes
Like windows to an early spring sky
A slight easy twist to smiling lips
That says I'm human, and funny
And still open to the world's wonders.
Hey - we all get hungry sometimes.
I can easily get another hamster.
Such a softly glowing face
And bright light blue eyes
Like windows to an early spring sky
A slight easy twist to smiling lips
That says I'm human, and funny
And still open to the world's wonders.
Hey - we all get hungry sometimes.
I can easily get another hamster.
Friday, 15 May 2015
The 63 Is Running Late
The 63 is running late.
The station is a portal to Purgatory, a grim concrete and
reinforced glass lean-to as we pass on.
Above, tight rows of pigeon spikes, gray on gray concrete under
gray skies.
Like barbed wire on The Front. Paschendale for birds, yet
they have more sense – no feathered corpses here to mourn.
Wide-eyed smiling child in pram. Innocent of rain, or concrete, or future. A clean pink page yet unwritten.
Early morning perfume of stale tobacco and Big Mac.
The 63 arrives.
Air-brakes sigh a thousand sighs and we shuffle forward.
Past posters for Samaritans, Park And Ride and... The Royal Opera.
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