Friday 28 December 2018

Limitless




Either way
we find ourselves
Where we sit 
and how we fit
Minute or gigantic
Titanic bulk 
or teensy bit
Indeed we are 
the space between
A got together
fleeting slot
Such abundance
at our fingertips
In who we are 
And when we’re not
Add to that our
constant changes
That must leave 
though never go
A universe of
changing places
So hard to be 
yet even so

Thursday 27 December 2018

What’s Your Poison?



What’s your poison whiskey gin
On either or I am sanguine 
Tasteless vodka spirit hit
So, no one near will notice it

Rum refreshes empty cups
A brandy fix restores your ups
All in all, the champagne thrills
‘til eyelids droop and temper spills

Come on, come on just one more drink
To bring my head back from the brink
Then lay in bed sleep like a log
Arise red-eyed salute the hairy dog

Wednesday 26 December 2018

The Time Draws Near for Flowering


When that time

Of Christmas boxes

Once a heartfelt day 

Of giving

Taking steps

In bringing goodwill

To those struggling

For a living

 

Not standing by 

Indifferently

Watching failure 

In its plight

Aid those in strife

To fight for life

On a wintry 

Silent night


Empires of humanity

Covert closely

Spoils of war

Ensuring grips

On castle keeps

Deceitful ways

Of grabbing more

That now defines the law



Footnote

Songs are so much more than sound

Each word’s sincere proposing

To keep a lookout filled with promises

Not judging homelessness with loathing

Monday 24 December 2018

Merry Cherries



Summer’s distant memory
Autumn’s long farewell
Last year grieves its fallen leaves
To the ring of twilight's bell

At this solstice time of winter
In the dark of dank December
A time for jolly interludes
Around Yuletide’s fiery ember

Celebrate with family folk
Wintry weather cheering eats
Conserves preserves and nutty things
And a stocking full of treats

Thursday 20 December 2018

In the Moot


Midwinter is upon us
There's darkness in the air
The winter log is burning
A feast we must prepare

We stand awhile and listen
The drooping touch of silent snow
Voices singing by death's door
Allows the old year one last show

Tonight together in the moot
We will dance until the dawn
Here in the hours of Yuletide
Once again the light reborn

Tuesday 18 December 2018

By The Way



Way back many rhymes ago
I felt inclined by lyrical leanings
Having bought a decent dictionary
Researching words and meanings

I read a lot of well-known Bards
Was amazed at their impressions
Their depth of feeling had no ceiling
And such a way with their expressions

I would read each take to root out fake
Contriving not to be synthetic 
Lacking eloquence and prominence
Not at all I thought poetic

Though I carried on with hopeful heart
My prose would always end up rhyming
Clever things I could not conjure up
To work with rhythm pace and timing

Saturday 15 December 2018

Wu-wei



Staring at the unknown void
A fragile vision eye-line sight
Not inviting or exciting me
To see the wrong thing in the right

Feeling little else but kindliness
Letting go of strong positions
The kind that bury happiness
In the mulch of hard decisions

To stand aside from taking sides
And never sitting on the fence
I keep away from waiting rooms
Where aimless conflicts may commence

"wu-wei is probably best rendered as something like “effortless action” or “spontaneous action.” 
Being in wu-wei is relaxing and enjoyable, 
but in a deeply rewarding way that distinguishes it from cruder or more mundane pleasures."

Thursday 13 December 2018

Shame On You Squanderers

When the old folk steal the future from the young folk,
They will not forgive you.



 If the feelings all agreed upon
Hang around in easy air
Anytime a disagreement starts
Mutual feelings share despair

When a bust-up makes it difficult
For hidden reasons from a sleight 
Where front doors take a second place
For backstop callers late at night

It would be nice if memories didn’t fade
On mutuality once respected
The selflessness of long-term friendship
Protected from the biased unexpected

The hand shake is a dodgy game
Skirting covenants navigated
A change of mind to suit the kind
Fat headed ego’s so inflated

Remember what we really must
Provide the best for all our young
It is their ladder we must help them climb
Not for us to grease each rung

Tuesday 11 December 2018

May We Be Forgiven



Whatever may become of us
The maypole has me spinning
We may or may not turn out well
We may not feel that we are winning

There may still be quite a way before
Among the may's and maybe nots
When a call for may she rest in piece
They may in secret have drawn lots

Maybe come the revolution
When the may queen abdicates
And takes away the come what may
We may still have euro mates

Monday 10 December 2018

Sanctuary (Free Trial)


In a corridor surrounded
Checking every open door
Looking in deciding
Is it here I can’t be sure

Is this a dream or my reality
A way-out game where I pretend
To be in charge of where I want to be
Or in some tangled senseless bend

Maybe I cannot hide in corners
Leaving me in there exposed
In a circle waiting for my turn
Until completely diagnosed

Sunday 9 December 2018

If I may Say So



Out there in the everywhere
On our rotating dotty ball
Looking out for finest structures
To find the answers to it all

Checking out the alpha constant
And the strength of interaction
To shrink or stretch the universal glue
Rejecting any error’s fraction

With all our standard models flawed
Variations on the wing
Leaving prayers on heavens stairs
Discover clues to everything

So, one day in the not far off
We’ll have the lowdown on the lot
A theory of entirety
And the answer to our plot

The whole shebang on string will hang
A ball of wax intact
Our universe at last well known
Where the ultimate is fact

Based on Marcus Chown article
'The NumberThat Holds The Universe Together Is Changing'
BBC FOCUS issue 330 Christmas 2018

Baked Views



Exactly as I thought it was
After much investigation
Weighing up the facts and figures
Thinning out pure speculation

Lots and lots of ready reckonings
Testing origins and roots
No divesting or suggesting
By ruling out purports and moots

In due course without remorse
The past was cast aside
Smothered by another way to be
Where everything must coincide

Wednesday 5 December 2018

Fill your Boots


 Another year is drawing near
But as the old one drains away
Sucking bucket loads of credit cash
To start a new one in dismay

Midwinter’s needs for so much joy
Summer plentiful long gone
We need a glitter compensation
A lavish-do to set upon

We’ll order much excessively
More than is sensible to store
Throw caution to the wind and spend
On stuff that most won’t need for sure

Then here to there and back and forth
Bubbled up with with “ho, ho, ho’s”
Getting sleighed and festive weighed
Drowned out with TV shows

Not much solace in December here
The shops are begging hard for bucks
Enticing all to not miss out
As latest must haves are the crux

Tuesday 4 December 2018

How Much For That?



Defining fair transactions
Pursuing valuables exchanged
Using measurements to indicate
Honest dealings well arranged

When counting up and dishing out
The special weights of milk and honey
To meet the grade for certain prices paid
And not be short changed on the money

Exactitude cannot be misconstrued
The finest points though hard to see
For there in tiniest quantities
One finally meets with accuracy

A replica of the International Prototype Kilogram
at the Cité des Sciences et de l’Industrie in Paris.
Japs88/Wikimedia Commons





Monday 3 December 2018

Waiting for A Train




It was just a conversation
That turned up uninvited
Sitting nearby on two tables
A café space somehow united
The talk at first indifferent
Unsure what should be said
Too early for opinions
They talked of anything instead
Both denying they were in a trap
Of living treadmill locomotion
Yet wryly eyeing out for signs
To join in with the walking ocean
Looking out the café widow
The crowd outside now in full flow
Mindless drone like racing pigeons
A dancing quickstep on the go

Saturday 1 December 2018

December Weather Here



Struggling in mid-winter mist
As darkness stretches into light
Foggy hands reach out then drop
In the slippery morning night

Frosted whispers scald my cheeks
Bothering steps, I dare to take
Not allowing warmth to generate
Still feeling less than wide awake

Drizzle rain though gentle penetrates
My insufficient ragged cloak
Any distance walked on days like this
Is a far too meddling heavy yoke

Friday 30 November 2018

Closing Down




December’s looking down at heel
High streets have the footfall blues
Shopping bags with room to spare
Compete with latest online views

How long will heavy overheads
Be justified to load the price
As profits fail to meet the rents
A business skating on thin ice

No store has 'Sales' immunity
Everyone feels profits pain
Jobs are disappearing fast
We won't see them again

The hubbub of the market place
Where something more is going on
The ‘Seeing is Believing’ show
May soon be ‘Something Once’ now gone

It’s worth noting how the going out
Gave expectation and surprise
As online pleasures turned to house arrest
Where no one ventures out and buys

Thursday 29 November 2018

At the Third Stroke

Second guessing is reduced again
Lesser cost to borrowed time
Allowing focus on the price of tick
Affecting hours and how bells chime

The rhyme of swinging pendulums
Remains our meter metronome
Irrespective of a moment’s spell
Time is oscillation prone

They’re winding up the elements
To know exactly how time flies
When vacillation is defeated
And best transition then applies

A billionth of a billionth
Means Ytterbium streaks ahead
As long as universal factors
Agree that atoms aren’t misled

Wednesday 28 November 2018

Here's One For Harry

(Image via )

The underdog who has no bark
Rarely gets a chance to bite
From life’s mishaps a share of scraps
No option for respite
For those who have the much of it
Complain the most about the poor
As if the consequence of circumstance
Is merely Mother Nature’s law
Calling out the starving scrounger
At the lowest point in life
For being lazy lacking aptitude
Therefore, deserving of his strife
If the ladder that you find yourself
Has rungs replaced with empty spaces
Without a hand to pull you up
There’ll be no chance of better places
Salute the favoured through coincidence
Bestowed with reassuring guides
Given confidence and self-belief
Along with all that cash provides
The cunning guy controls supply
Cutting best deals for the pack
Conserving and preserving grace
Granting ne’er do well’s no slack
And if by luck you earn a cosy buck
A state provisional at best
The power brokers good idea
Will work out ways to grab your chest.

Asapriately Soon




In the land of Dillydallying
Where they play the waiting game
Never taking action hastily
Or being first ones to proclaim

Their General wears a Dither Ring
A golden robe of Shilly-Shally
When hanging back is clearly seen
In Tarry Halt by Dawdle Alley

Seldom rushed to make a final choice
For the best time is next week
And all agree that soon they’ll see
That staying put is quite unique

They are certain that uncertainty
Assures delays give up a hand
Allowing longer seaside holidays
Spent by Wavering on the Sand

Tuesday 27 November 2018

Normality's Calamity



What is normal who can say
There is danger in the mode
Accepting only group agreements
Another 'Just Like Us' commode

Normality a testing truth
For those who candidly debate
Not bowing to the partisan
Who follow in a trance like state

Dubious passions lauding
The group enforcing what is right
Irrespective of the neutral view
Responds to either black or white

Sunday 25 November 2018

My Lucky Numbers



I love the promise of propitious
And the providence it brings
Or the idea that one’s destiny
Is full of fluky timely things

Clinking glasses saying cheers
When I hear the tolling bell
Taking chances on a rabbit’s foot
Throw pennies in a wishing well

If the stars are in disorder
Talent doesn’t have a hope
Your life-effect is can’t connect
Without a mojo in your scope

Take my advice forget all that
Hang nine numbers on your line
No special tricks no wizard fix
Another way to misplace nine

Maths is just a numbers game
When on their own don’t give jot
Yet play them thoughtfully together
They’ll show the way out of your spot

Friday 23 November 2018

About Roughly



Can it wait replied the busy cat
I’m doing all my do’s in queue’s
Full of stuff I put off yesterday
I’ve got the nagging pressure blues

Not a wink of sleep through chatter
My inner me and I converse
Getting nowhere with defensive pleas
No matter how much we rehearse

The morning light comes scary through
Like a cutthroat’s sharpened knife
Bringing weight to bear on everywhere
Our riddled clocks are running rife

Fireflies with spotlight accuracy
Their hinting concepts buzzing swarm
As we prepare to take on everything
Pursuing side-line forms of norm

Thursday 22 November 2018

I See



Eyes, the conduit of knowledge
Looking curiously and seeing
A blend of outward with the inward
Daydreaming on just being

Observing every game they play
With a view to taking chances
Dipping silent toes in water
Plotting ways to make advances

Eyes are looking at the world
Some have worked out how to be
By continuing the line of life
To pass on different ways to see

Tuesday 20 November 2018

The Telling Way


Telling jokes for story’s sake
A wish to make a listener laugh
Surprising tales with daft details
Where the truth gets cut in half

Some jokes whet the appetite
Demanding crackers served up dry
Rousing minds with punchline finds
Served with sparklers in the eye

There are some folk who rarely laugh
They are the jewels that joker’s prize
For their demands ironically 
Hold the key to yarn’s disguise

Thursday 15 November 2018

We’ve Been Framed



A voter choice of ‘Yes’ or ‘No’
Based on scenarios unknown
Yet vote they did to just get rid
And face the future all alone

Is this bloody good or madly bad
To answer that is complicated
So choice is spelled out in book
A muddled pack to be debated

Two years on and still we strive
To understand the implications
That stress how far apart we are
As disunited bordered nations

United Kingdom may well split apart
Little enclaves  clans and cliques
Closed societies uncooperative
Quaintly polishing antiques

Wednesday 14 November 2018

Gut Filling



Ill-advised and over sanitised
Insanely scrubbed and cleaned
Misguided in our health pursuits
Over treated and machined

We over do the medicines
That scrub and scour our gastral pipes
Skim away good reinforcements
To suffer disinfected gripes

Our life maintaining micro-bods
That keep our vigour and our shape
Along with all our less desirables
Flushed away by sterile scrape

Not much security in purity
We’ve let obsession drive our life
Not by washing hands or cleaning pans
Down where digestion suffers strife

Our microbe team can keep us lean
They send us messages succinct
We must increase their population
And listen to our ‘Gut-Instinct’

Professor Tim Spector
STORY LINK

Sunday 11 November 2018

Ideally



Working quietly on a project
Tools and implements at hand
Doing things the way they should be done
Not necessarily as was planned

Accomplishing a one-off task
Where reward is by degree
While the challenge is fulfilling
Each new idea becomes a key

The beauty of the art and craft
Goes beyond the here and now
At thinking pace will find a place
Unearthing other ways to how

Saturday 10 November 2018

F**k It



Words we speak misunderstood
Not unreasoning or rude
Though often summing up our thoughts
Leaving meaning slightly skewed

Hot air phrases voicing gloominess 
In maddening situations
Despairing at the lack of flow
Venting off our intimations

It’s what we do with disappointment
When everything is said and done
No matter how we tried with pride
We’re left with ‘F**K-It’ nothing’s won

Friday 9 November 2018

Pork Piety



Oh my, oh my, I love pork pie
A chunk of scrumptious munch
Works well with English mustard
Anytime especially lunch

With mushy peas baked beans and chips
Or with a sturdy Ploughman’s tuck
Unadorned a perfect stand alone
There’ll be no waste to chuck

Oh how I do adore pork pie
Every buffet’s favourite wish
If made with love and understanding
There is no finer coupled dish