The Two Way Room

The two-way room

that once had windows

Shed new light
upon my floor

Like a pair of way out arrows

Painting bodies by the door

The two-way room
that once had windows

I said goodbye too late one night

Softly closing fast and locking up

This room had little left to fight

The two-way room
that once had windows

A smothered memory gone for good

Now replaced with heavy curtains
Carpets covering splintered wood

I wrote this in 2018 - Timely Rhymes

Twofold

I’ve often wondered 

what I’d say

If I met me 

on the road one day

Would I smile

or would I cry

Or would I 

quickly pass me by

Could I truly

 help me out

Would I listen 

or turn about

Would I feel 

the same as me

I cannot say 

with certainty

For in my life 

so many changes

Conscious heedful

rearranges

Being me 

enjoying free 

sometimes all alone

When like this

I have no needs

From least of all

A clone

Two Wheels at My Heels

I’m on the old two-wheeler

Pedalling with verve

On a slipstream in the sunshine

Leaning in on every curve

My tyres pumped up happily

Fussy free I coolly wheel

Well-oiled cranks and muscled shanks

No sign or peep of squeaky wheel

A joyful ping at passers by

Who wave delightfully I’m sure

As I pause at rehydration stops

Returning home with saddle sore

Then Again

Hours glide by on samey days

In swirls of reappearance

Where new is just a simile

Based on passing interference

In this house of going muddy slow

We prepare to change our views

A dash of colour or a knickknack bright

On twisted slopes of tilting skews

Once all effects and subtleties

Make new impressions in the air

We look once more for things to do

Lest we do little else but stare 

Free for Tea

Nothing special doing

On this day especially 

Apart from teapots brewing 

My favoured flavoured tea 

One cup will not satisfy 

More likely two or three 

No train or bus nor on the fly 

Just this poem tea and me

#teapotverse

Following The Science

TOPIC LINK

Throngs of limbs
to satisfy whims
Leptogromia
-operculata,
Ingesting the lesser
increasing in size
A developing monster
pro rata
Suck aperture lined
with globule refined
A wicket of sticky
tight spots
Sliding with ease
without any knees
Consuming improbable lots
Reaching out to ensnare
much edible fare
This rapacious
Amoeboid avoid
With pyriform shell
a colourless well
Calmly gathering
is never annoyed

Blank It Blank

Sitting at my writing desk

Page naked starkly white

Daring me to test myself

Hoping something may ignite

Looking at the emptiness

At passing patterns out of shape

Held hostage by the margins

Interlaced with no escape

Arranging words too meaningless

I lack the light to guide me on

Within this page of locked in puzzles

Where the clueless rest upon

Lockdown Birthday Thirty One

Happy Birthday Alex

We’re sending birthday wishes

So we’re keeping them pristine

Sanitised our hands and biro

The card and enveloped sealed clean

To prove compliance with the rules

In line with government advice

Washing hands whilst sending this

Singing Happy Birthday twice

Isolated with no birthday pals

A cake with just one slice

Shake that champagne bottle mate

Sing Happy Birthday thrice

Written for Alex Richmond’s 31^st Birthday

Lockdown Sonnet No.3 Back to Work

Be careful with your ways and means
Employ ablution with precision
No car share only one per van
Steer clear of bus and rail
Use elevators one on one
Take time when traipsing off to work
Every queue will cost you time
On every stairway that you climb
Step and fetch it do not shirk
Your rise and fall could be undone
One for the taxi that you hail
Get on your bike the master plan
You won’t get by on indecision
Be consistent with deep cleans

That Makes Sense

The prisoner in the dock today

To be judged as juries do

For the crime of being rather dim

And a guideline misconstrue

Wrong ends of the simple sticks

Causing outcomes undecided

Did not use one's loaf of bread

Where common sense resided

Many charges on the charge sheet

Included buffoon dunce and dolt

This numpty noodle chucklehead

Gave off a brain-fart somersault

Memoranda sent ambiguously

How all must use their native wit

Engaging only in well-judged affairs

Of perfect inkling fit

Ill thought out and empty headed

Implies how Common Sense is prime

To know what you must surely know

When not wasting too much time

As the government relaxes lockdown we must use common sense and be alert. Really?

Coming Soon At A Theatre Near You

The cinema inside my head

Is showing previews of my past

A kind of excerpt story telling

Full of pictures that don’t Last

Sometimes I sit and ponder

Was I ever really there

Has my mind made up the rushes

I have little to compare

When my projector lamp has fizzled

And all my likenesses have waned

Will all my stuff have disappeared

As nothing lost and nothing gained

Looking Ahead

Sitting with my friendly cuppa

Reflecting on the social mess

Cogitating hazy plans

Where everything is more or less

Trying hard to be convincing

Based on one thing or another

Where do’s and don’ts conflicting

Make every effort seem a bother

Who knows when it’s over

Subject to each caveat

Where you went and who you met

What you touched how near you sat

Those bossy boots who bragged aloud

That it was just a numbers game

One hundred thousand tests a day

Too insufficient to proclaim

Take a nation’s many millions

Testing day and night and then

At least two years without a hitch

Then test some millions more again