I watch the glistening stars
waiting for thy presence
thy brown eyes
a pulse through the universe
bound
connected
to ne’r be smothered
infinitely
Penelope
be mine
Poetry
Everybody
everybody
wants to make a difference
but hardly anybody does
everybody
wants to be good
yet most of us feel bad
everybody
wants some change
whilst many of us fear it
everybody
wants to live
even though we die
Can’t you see
I cannot see
said the blind man
can’t you see?
What’s with me…
what’s with me…
without you
It’s lack of knowledge
it’s lack
of knowledge…
I know
Naughty little girl
Two sides to every story
there’s two sides
to every story…
a beginning
and an end
Get on your knees!
get on your knees
and colour
the lands
do it with verve
and the patience
it demands…
me and Claudette
Claudette
reminded me
not to forget
about my dementia
and Al Zeimers
who claimed
we had met
me and Claudette
Oh brother
Oh brother
you are not
my mother
sister
What is freedom of speech
what is freedom of speech
if everything
you say
is weighed
and debated,
questioned,
twisted
to matters
unrelated
what is it freedom of speech
The older you get
the older
you get
the more
end up dead
April had to stay
be that
as it May
in March
June said
that April
had to stay
Pour over coffee
Mother of fact
as a mother of fact
she kept
all her offspring
intact
she fed them
she bathed them
and kept them
in line
they all went
and crossed it
but we think
she’ll be fine
When but
when you think you had enough
but you get much less
when he talks way too much
but you always digress
when you think you’ve made it
but it was never broken
when a lot is discussed
but not much outspoken
when you’re blind to everything
but can hear all the rest
when you gave her a polygraph
but you failed the test
when you think you’ve found the one
but you run into the other
when you’ve found a way out
but you just won’t bother…
g👁👁gle
we collect your browsing data
and monitor your stay
we sell it on to companies
that will haunt you every day
I spot your hormones
I spot
your hormones
I see them
in your spots
Bannockburn
arches flying
young lads dying
a lot of them bled
in a pool of red
swords swinging
bagpipes singing
horses charging
soldiers barging
English lots
a fair few Scots
with their pride
they turned the tide
Witty words 