Windows to the city

the streets
all seem in place
the buildings
stand with grace

the skyline
and the clouds
hover over
busy crowds

the people
walking by
more than plenty
catch my eye

the sound of sirens
echo dread
fetching the wounded
and the dead

the windows
to the city
make the ugly
look so pretty


the difference between living
in or on estate
could be £5 million

in an estate
one has the feeling
one has the whole place to oneself

whilst on an estate
we know,
and (un)willingly accept,
we all live in one house…

It is that!

it is that
of what
I not yet know,
and it’s meaning,
it be true or false,
I fear most,
for knowing it
or by comparison,
may alter
or liberate
my process
of thinking

It is that!

Free tips for men: Toilet 🚽

When you need to pee, sit down rather than stand up! This will prevent a possible deflecting urine stream spritzing the area surrounding you. Think of bath mats, tiles, radiators, shoes and of course the toilet itself.

It will save you a lot of cleaning and will prevent bad hygiene, bacteria, sticky surfaces and rusty radiators (urine contains saltpetre).

Extra tip: keep your pubes trimmed…you don’t want them scattered all round your WC as well? Or stuck to the urine for those who’ll remain standing?

So toilet seat down and be seated😊

Stay tuned for more…

Free tips for men: Who needs an iron

When you wash a shirt or a pair of pants or anything in your washing machine don’t put it on the highest spin cycle. It will become too dry and so your clothes may come out too creasy.

The next thing you do is hang it on a hanger (don’t use pegs!) and due to the weight of the water left in your garment it shall pull most of the creases out. There are all sorts of hangers one can purchase.

Extra tip: put jumpers (sweaters) on a flat surface as hanging could well stretch the fabric!

Who needs an iron ☺️

Stay tuned for more…


blend in
with the boring blended
your life
has already ended

you have everything
sorted and mended
all in control
it’s bloody splendid


wants to make a difference
but hardly anybody does

wants to be good
yet most of us feel bad

wants some change
whilst many of us fear it

wants to live
even though we die

My dna

unwanted chains
impaired by strings
of twisted cells
and all it brings

good and evil
do their duty
mixed dark and light
entwined with beauty

my dna
can’t go away
is here to stay…

April Fewl

April Fewl
was a prankster
who enjoyed
pulling legs
thinking it was cool
but came up short
when she met
her amputated man
who left her clueless
what to do
when he said:
You should’ve worn
your spectacles
before I married you…


conceive me
carry me
hold me
feed me
need me
raise me
appraise me

stroke me
pet me
affect me
trust me
support me
believe me
perceive me

slap me
confuse me
reject me
eject me
neglect me
excuse me
leave me


regarding my eventful stride
in the garden of perception
I ponder
and wonder
how I ended up
down yonder
believing fate
would caress my inner
conspicuous alteration
of thoughtful contemplation
that opens
and shuts shutters
of my ever vivid imagination

To the forest

rising damp
steam and smoke
misty sunlight
like a faded lamp
gazing upon dead wood
covering moist soil
the earth breathing
through snugly moss
trees waving
wandering gust

I should go to the forest
I really must…

Can we go back

can we go back
a little
maybe a thousand years
when there were other fears
rough but pure
a disease
no cure
when trees
were green
and forests clean
all in balance
almost good
no climate challenge

can we go back

No more

No more petrol
No more plastic
No more transportation
No more farming
No more deforestation
No more fertilizers
No more drilling
No more garbage
No more ignorance
No more talk
No more humans
No more pollution
We need a solution

Sunday morning

early on a sunday morning
w hen everything is dead
I hear the church bells ringing
lying in my bed

alone and lonely
lonely for you
I am by myself
but my heart is here with you

Little one

little one
on her arm
her nana
meant no harm
when she dropped her
on the floor
when granddad
opened the door

little one
broken in two
nana clueless
what to do
granddad said
I’ll fix her up
I’ll just get
some super glue

Everyone is bored and boring

nobody is crazy anymore
except the crazy
nobody is wild anymore
except the wild

everybody does the same things
every day
everyone sits
in the same chair hooray!

everybody wants change
but fears it more
everyone plays it safe
except the reckless

everyone wants to be happy
all the time
but wanting to be happy
is simply fearing to lose control

everyone wants the best
for the rest
except the selfish
and the ignorant souls

everyone is bored
and boring
how predictable
how adoring…(not)

Side effects

the other day
I got a jab,
a vaccine called Pfizer

the nurse said
there’s no side effects
except that I will be much wittier
but none the wiser


for forgotten souls
marked by
sagging tombstones
of grandfathers
and newborn babies
absorbed by soil
by moss
and lost memories
I dwell in silence
and stroll silently…

I still visit my friend

Dark grey clouds

through the small space
between my curtains
I can’t help but notice
dark grey clouds
slowly moving
and hovering
over leafless trees

I pray for more natural beauty
I am on my knees

I am elated

I laugh
I smile
every day
and enjoy
all the while
the funny moments
as they are
for the takin’
when I open
my eyes
to see
was made
‘n created
for me

I am elated…

Iron heart

now that I left
I regret the theft
of your loving heart
ripping it out
tearing it apart
leaving it wrinkled
in crumpled pieces
I’ve brought you my iron
to remove all
the creases

Mine owneth trail

thou art mine compass
and guiding lighteth
ste’ring me
in the right direction
I needeth to findeth
mine self reflection

I can’t beest sidetrack’d
and loseth mine bearings
whilst I walketh
mine owneth trail
yet I shall ch’rish
thy guidance
as I am only frail

Blown out

blown out by wind
cold as a fridge
she laid there
under the bridge

hollowed face
vanished grace
too long
stopped wondering
where life went wrong

crippled by overdose
secluded by fate
eaten by Meth
fatally lost
for death

a stray dog came
and waited by her side
just for a while
as she gracefully
forced out
her last despairing smile…

We are required

we are required
to initiate
we are required
to participate
we are required
to emancipate
we are required
to instigate
we are required
to communicate
we are required
to integrate
we are required
to be not too late
we are required
to by our state


am I willing
am I able
able to cope
with the rope
that extends the time
tying years together
in predictive boredom
of birthdays yet to come
and fogged
by hollow words
mixed with cake and beer
and fear
having to do this again
and again
every bloody year?

Piquant spittle

and turning
to impart flavor
the relish
I truly savour

our tongues duel
and softly wriggle,
the quench
for love’s fuel
you kindly giggle

I taste
the zest
your piquant spittle
the remnants
of last night’s food
a little…

Empty pillow

without my love
I put my hand on
touch it gently
if she were here
not miles away
the memory vivid
of her presence
near me
eyes shut
I feel her
empty pillow

Now I’m 64

now that I’m older and lost my hair
I am bald somehow
you stopped sending me a Valentine
no more laughs and now you just whine

tho I don’t go out much and stay at home
you still lock the door
do you still need me, you hardly feed me
now I’m 64

you are older too

and if you say more words
we just may be through

I was so handy, did all the jobs
but you broke everything
you placed my recliner near the fireside
I sat down and me bottom got fried

fell in the garden, I broke my hip
before it began to pour
do you still need me, you hardly feed me
now I’m 64

every summer we went camping near the sea
and in the rain, it was still too dear
we ate chips for tea
no children on our knees
only wasps and flees

write me no letters, don’t give me a sign
I’ll just have a brew
you can’t even hear what I say
I’m hungry here and wasting away

don’t want no answer, but fill out this form
like I asked before
you never need me, I will divorce thee
now I’m 64

~rewrite of When I’m Sixty Four by the Beatles

Steam rising







tongue and cheek



steam rising

Grave wisdom

we don’t know
what’s ahead
but in 13 decades
we’ll be dead

the rich well conserved
the poor may be rotten
some are remembered
others forgotten

the slab is the lid
on a precious soul
heaven forbid
death took its toll

consumed the remains
leftover remnants
of decayed mortal stains


I see
miserable faces
in different places,
all looking unhappy,
in their eyes,
despairing traces

traces of sadness,
and pain;
will they ever
be jolly
and smile again?

Clair Voyant

Clair Voyant
was a psychic
who had a donkey
for a sidekick
and a monkey
that was cheeky

she predicted
all the noise
they made
would make
her floor sound squeaky

Ol’ folk waiting

wind blowing
all knowing
elderly pondering
faces wondering
leaning on canes
waiting for trains
whilst they smile
all the while
talking about diseases
before time ceases
about the weather
bonding them together
with their last
gentle laughter
now and forever

Cooking neighbours

the familiar smell
I know it all too well
the daily spell
of garlic
and beef
every day
at 6
good grief

all around
the clinking sound
of pots
n pans
the roaring noise
of kitchen fans
my cooking neighbors
not my choice…


I guess if you got your choice between grief and nothing, you’ll take grief. You know you’re alive when you’re sad-otherwise how do you know you’re alive…

~Jim White


you’re afraid
of what’s out there
the confrontation
and denials
your earthly trials

yet you cope
with the present
the now
and survive
on basic instinct
some way

Defective Daisy

defective Daisy
was insane
plain crazy
stuck in a fog
everything hazy

out of whack
her wires crossed
trying to find
her marbles
gone lost

she was committed
as she couldn’t hack it
tried to fit
and did
in a straight jacket

Fire alarm

oh fire alarm
you’re such a charm
waking me early
you stupid thing
with your noise
your piercing ring

oh fire alarm
you cause me harm
loud and false
no smoke no fire
off on a hunch
you blatant liar

Faulty family

tortured dna
bonded by blood
inherited ways
dragged all through the mud

forced friendliness
at mandatory calls
awkward silences
before the usual brawls

make due with mom
put up with dad
stuck with years of nuisance
life ain’t all that bad

not chosen
all frozen

A coroner’s tale

he gazed,
was surprisingly amazed
when he spotted
her beauty,
and fresh
whilst performing
his duty

he noticed
her intimate stare
the young damsel
laying bare
as she slipped
into heaven
at 7 past 11

Tickitts please, tickkits!

no one
too cold
cheap perfume
feel unwell
oh well
holding on
no seat
bloody heat
odor vents
my gents
to mobile
cellular smile
20 stops
stuttering gears
pale conductor
on stale
and again:

Tickitts please, tickkits!

Random thought processes

not telling
soul fueling
mind cooling

of leafless trees
and bees
that no one

mind leaping
random thoughts
I think
I’m crazy


his inlaws were outlaws
he tried to fit in
but them folk
had more flaws
them degenerate kin

April was nice
yet her parents were rough
her dad was a rowdy
and her momma
looked tough

her name was May-June
and her daddy’s was Red
they were always swearin
he wished
they was dead

so one night in November
the fun begun
when Hank uttered oops
after he triggered
his gun…


sauntering through the meadows
with the sun shining on its shadows
I stumbled upon my precious soul
and found it yearning
for the world to keep turning
around and around
until my inner peace was found

Woof woof

every Sunday
a dog barks
near the store
she heard it all
too often
a thousand times

fed up
of waiting
for the return
of its boss
Jan went out
and shot it
leaving a note:
I’m sorry for your loss

Duvet cover

how will I ever recover
from battling
with my duvet cover

unwillingly resistant
it chooses it’s own path
willfully persistent
spurring endless wrath

mayhem and dismay
I may leave it
for another day

Joy sticks

sharpened senses
moving eyes
when I see and smell
them lovely fries

yellow sticks
sticks of joy
when they crunch
oh boy oh boy

the smell
travels for miles
won’t have a few
I want piles

piles I’ll get
when I am fat
topped with mayo
need sum of that

Drawn by light

to the darkness of night
it was redirected
by first light
and the fading moon
a pretty picture
the mixture
of faded shadows
and songs
of morning sparrows

this live blinding spectacle
with precious innocence
on a spring dawn
on shores
of hopeful new starts
passing slowly
as it departs…

The dying bulb

the lamp fades
wires broken
a bare lit token
by stuttering
spasmodic convulsions

darkness creeps in
upon the still of the night
when the dying bulb
slowly kills
the sizzling
flickering light


with the devil
on Saturday
we’ll party hard
my dearest

we’ll talk it over
with the good Lord,
ask for forgivemess
after we shot you

Prickly skin

prickly skin
don’t know where to begin

stung by sun
pinned by sting
brought out by heat
even on my feet

white turns to red
lumpy bumps
I toss in bed
wishing I was dead

I pity

I pity those
who cannot smile
or find a laugh
in a while

is up for grabs
for the taking
given by others
or of your making


virtual junk
viral spunk
me stress
I press

ads pop up
when I surf
invading me
on my
personal turf

She tries

she tries
to find
a way
to deal
with life
the turmoil
in her head
in circles
like a coil
going round
and round
for love
yet still
not found
she tries

When I go to pieces

when I go to pieces not much is right
only tears, hurt and sorrow
when today is gone
more shite tomorrow

when I go to pieces not much is left
only particles, dust and ashes
when the urn drops
it possibly smashes

when I go to pieces not much is down
only my mood, when my blood sugar is low
after I eat
I’m ready to flow

when I go to pieces not much is up
only strength, hope and perseverance
when I feel all that
I’ll make an appearance


hidden by many
in sheltered accommodation
they are kept
far and beyond
anyone’s imagination

safe and sound
locked up and stored away
waiting to be revealed
at some point
maybe some day

Distant sirens

faded in the dark night
sound swept by wind
on and off
the sirens
dissolve into the distance
whilst the unlucky ones
lie in wait
dreading it’s approach
the bitter

What if

what if before we became human we were rejected alien mutants.
what if the bible is written by a few drunken disciples who just made everything up.
what if we are a dish god has put aside to watch it rot for fun.
what if we had no wars and diseases.
what if there’s no luck but twisted hope.
what if there’s no meaning to life but for our egos need to uphold the contrary.
what if everyone was more positive to open up to open up.
what if people would know that hate is only fear.
what if there’s no heaven.
what if this is all a dream.
what if we reject change because it’s safe to hold on to what we know even if it’s bad.
what if I just wrote this to make people think and use their brains if only for a second.
what if we realize that we have the freedom to think what we want and say it.
what if we question everything.
what if there’s no (easy) answers.
what if this is just a load of bull.
what if I don’t want comments as these are just thoughts…

what if what if…

Church bells

bear clinging metal
reveal secrets they hold
through centuries of ringing
their stories are told
as bells witnessed
life and death
from first cry
till our last breath

Near the end

near the end
we’ve come
to understand
we have to take
a different journey

we may embark
on it peacefully
in a dream
or in pieces
on a gurney…

Riff raff

unsavoury kind
thought I was blind
throwing trash in my bin
with cannabis in

started to smell
began to rot
rang the police
but they thought I grew pot

hauled me downtown
charged with possession
gave me the third degree
to get a confession

I said it was riff-raff
the guys next door
cops said: yeah right
we heard it before

sat behind bars
with no booze to drink
I became sober
Had time to think

I plotted revenge
once I got out
confronted my neighbour
and started to shout

we got in a fight
and rolled on the floor
whacked the hillbilly
with a 2 by 4

the law came back
to slap me on the wrist
ended up punching
the sheriff with my fist

back in the joint
they offered me grass
I declined gracefully
and offered my ass


absorbing rain
sun and air
rooted to soil
feel no despair

leaves grow slowly
open to the sky
residing silently
not wondering why

gracefully observing
not in a hurry
they stand in peace
and never worry

No response

you take it in
but don’t react
I try to move you
a sign of love in fact

yet no reply
I don’t know why
I’ll leave you be
and say goodbye…

Hank the horder

Hank the horder
lived near the border
where he collected stuff
in no particular order

papers and stamps
carpets and lamps
gathering stash
even from trash

his wife Lulu
had nowhere to sit
she had OCD
and enough of it

Hank begged her to stay
yet she left anyway
when he started to gather
her excrements that day


I want
to be
your plaster
to heal
your broken skin

but you keep bleeding
cause you drank
too much
I think
5 bottles of gin?


I’m afraid to debate
when thou art in a state
a state of control
when matters matter

am I to be still
whilst thee persists
with thy
continues chatter


your naked smile
a fragile pile
of newborn flesh
smelling fresh

looking up
wondering why
your ass is damp
instead of dry…

Midwife crisis

she saw his eyes
blinking in her womb
and said:
please come out,
no strings attached
you tiny sprout

but Feetus whispered:
I’ll stay put
and linger
for a while
before I shall embark
on this lengthy earthly trial


is the new born
on a fresh
winter’s lawn
as frozen mist
the lands
with pure white
the peaceful
of a slow

Swamp monster

the greedy nasty wife
did nothing
in the house
getting up to eat
and shouting at her spouse

her fragile man
came home hungry
after working hard and late
all the food had gone
that his Ethel ate

had him run out
to the store
being ordered
to get more
called her a swamp monster
whilst walking out the door

when he came back
he was upset
not knowing what to do
but then he thought
you know what
I’ll take her to the zoo


I’m afraid to debate
when thou art in a state
a state of control
when thy matters matter
am I
to be still
whilst thee


every day without you
is like a week of pain
every week not with you
is a month again

every minute with you
is like heaven
every second counts

Wake up call

breath slow
and deep
as I see her respire
I admire
the adorable
endearing and sweet
snoring girl

whilst I lay beside her
she pulls the covers
by tossing
and turning
until I shiver
and whisper:
I love you Beth
but Christ I’m freezing
to death

Gypsy eyes

half moon shaped
dark brown pearls
i love the eyes of
those gypsy girls

centuries of suffering
mirrored in their souls
worldly wisdom
gathered thru endless strolls

mixed Indian beauty
created over time
inherited musical talent
prodigy in rhyme

I don’t want to miss you anymore

I don’t want to miss you anymore
you at the other shore
much too far
the distance by car

I don’t want to miss you anymore
it gnaws on my inner core
much too hard
living so far apart

I don’t want to miss you anymore
as we done it all before
much too often
the blow don’t soften