Poem: Alone



I stood

At the Edge.

Alone, I stood at the edge of the cliff top at Kimmeridge

Foot shod

And I looked down.

I knew that to dive off this cliff

Head first

Would be to end

This curse of consciousness.



I paddled

At the Edge.

Alone, I paddled at the edge of the surf at Boscombe


And I looked down.

I knew that to dive into this ocean

Heart first

Would be to celebrate

This gift of consciousness.

I loved Kimmeridge

But Boscombe was better.

And Tomorrow…


Poem – The Glorious Colours of Death

The Glorious Colours of Death

Are Autumn’s Two-Edged Gift

At once Bless-ed and Bereft

As Nature’s Seasons Shift

With Winter’s Icy Kiss

Mere Weeks’ Breath Hiss Away

These Colours of such Bliss

I Celebrate this Day.


In my moment of need you gave me your gift of words

In my moment of need, you gave me your gift of words.

As I lay at the wayside,





You told me how much our moments together meant to you.

In my hour of need, you covered me with clichés.

As I stood before you naked





You shared with me how our friendship gave you such a lovely warm feeling.

In the time I needed you most, you poured out your wisdom.

I had no money for food

No funds for fuel

Nor hope for the future


You told me how much you valued the time we spent together.



Then she came.

She saw me bleeding at the wayside


She said nothing.


She cleansed my wounds


She sewed the torn flesh


She bandaged my broken body


She clothed me in her own robe


She fed me…

No message was upon her lips

Save for the warmth of her smile

Reflecting the fire of compassion in her eyes

She held me safe ’til I slept in peace


In her arms


A child again

In silence

In My Father’s Shower

In My Father’s Shower

I become an Emperor

For half-an-hour.

My Emperor’s New Clothes

Laid aside

My joyous nerve-endings

Open wide

To receive the praise

That rains on down

In spite of the lack of

Kit or crown.

Ten thousand hallelujahs

Poured upon their ruler

For mine is the power

To turn the dial

That releases their passion

And warms my smile.

I am

The Emperor of the Shower, am I

And the temple of my body

Is thus sanctified!

In Short Supply, Day and Knight

One should always buff one’s armour,

If one seeks to be a Charmer,

For Maidens in distress are two a penny;

And when these lovely ladies

Desire rescue from maladies

They look around for knights but can’t find any!


The brave knight must thus be ready

When the ladies get all heady

And threaten to exit stage left with a swoon.

With your arms wide, just be dashing

To the catch the maiden who is crashing;

For her gratitude will embrace you oh so soon!


Poem: Hold Down [Shift]+[Delete]

Shift Delete 800 

If you’re rude to me,

Or if you’re indiscrete,

I simply look at you

And hold down [Shift]+[Delete]

If you ignore me

When passing in the street,

I simply look at you

And hold down [Shift]+[Delete]

If you don’t ‘like’ my Facebook page

Or don’t retweet my Tweets,

I simply look you up online

And hold down [Shift]+[Delete]

If you don’t like my poems

And don’t think I’m sweet…

…You know what you can do!

{That’s right, hold

down [Shift]+[Delete]}



Do NOT hold down [Shift]+[Delete] unless you know what you’re doing – it permanently deletes the file… hence the poem!!!