Drudge Dread

Early hours of a new day born
Like falling rain on sun parched lawn
Waiting with gusto for the sun’s rich light
Gambling heaven for the end of night.
As throw of dice or the river’s turn
No hint of what until we learn
Be it the glory of beauteous lustre
Or cloud grey pall and bilious bluster.
Soon, sun comes clothed in cloudless sky
Like Kingly gown with crown on high.
Stretched out day lies new ahead
Incognisant men lie still home abed,
Until day becomes as a toddler child
Then rush began as cherub smiled.
Swarming masses wending ways
In line, instilled with lank delays
Office swiftly fills and factory swells
Sweltered to thirst which nothing quells.
Boxed and broiled beneath baking sun
Until blessed end, when work is done.
Now rush and push and shove to home
Make blood to boil and mouth to foam.
Then to garden with food to fire
Burger burned and bloody chicken dire.
Sausage scorched with undone middle
Gamble to feast or frequent hospital.
Cold beer, chilled wine, quaffed to quench
Raging thirst, in need of drench.
Soon day descends to nether night
Diminished to dark from livid light.
Till, bade to bed by blunted vigour
The morrow resigned to repeat the rigour.


Manchester, my city

my city-like-no-other
she’s like a friend to me.
She laughs with me
she waits with me,
stays with me,
fights for me,
when evil comes to call.

Love her or not,
she may outrun you
even before
she’s done with you
some will fall
dancing their end.

My city has those people
who live in their shoes
arriving at her breast
least dressed with
nothing left to lose,
in transit to a better life.
As if they’ve planned it,
they learn to live with her
they learn to adore her
come what may.

My city lives her own life,
her nights never still,
days obeying the laws of
the treadmill,
rhythm and pace
and even as we run
she ignores our race.
in the sun
or ignoring the rain
her face is the same,
with me she is one
for richer or poorer
through days I’m her brother
in the night she’s my lover,
my city-like-no-other

The Linear Momentum of Time

once the hour was
ignorant of the day
built upon the light
and the darkness.
the night became
had no name
each day the same
end to end
until one by one
a year was done,
long and old.

so starts again
the hours, as leaves
upon the trees
as many as stars
days like trees
in forests full
and light and dark,
the leaf and bark,
come and gone
until one by one
a year was done,
long and old.

tomorrow arrives
as days are done,
stars and sun,
like the rivers run
wild and free,
wending ways,
days and days
in quickened flow
until one by one
a year was done
shorter grown.

then the day
is ignorant of the hour
like sparks upon the fire
flicker till gone
the flash of light
and blink of night
a year ablaze
and days and days
flash be done
a year is gone
like a shooting star.

now years
like a ticking clock
temporal shock
here and gone,
a beat of life
another one done
until one by one
the years have gone
the eve of dawn
for a final morn.

People Who Prey

Fuck you, with your ice-cold hair.
Fuck you, with your hyena stare.
Fuck you, with your friends outside.
Fuck you, with your shit implied.
Get this, I’m better than you.
Get this, I love me too.
Get this, I’m a running man.
Get this, you’re an also ran.
Fuck you, you’re a dying swan.
Fuck you, you’re done and I’m gone.
Fuck you, you’re a pile of shite.
Fuck you, I could rhyme all night.

Tickets to The Show

Are you a pointer? A giggler?
Earnest whisperer?
Do you put on your faux plastic frown?
Head shaker? Face maker?
Picture taker?
Is your smartphone recording the “clown”?

YouTube the “nutter”?
A “funny” video?
Let the world enjoy, the High Street attraction.
Do you know of them?
Or care about them?
For you to place ridicule, above your compassion.

They could easily be you,
You, easily them.
A broken world spinning around in your head,
Needing of care
Without ridicule
More, the compassion of society instead.

Care for the person inside,
Traversing their mind,
Turning corners and resorting to the dance.
Take your soft hands to theirs,
To impart your care,
To understand, and then ignore their circumstance.


Don’t you wish you could eat and eat,
And eat and eat and eat and eat?
Don’t you wish you could fade the fat
While you scoff and stuff and gulp and that?
Don’t you wish your craving bone
Could be disavowed, be disowned!
No magic potions and pointless praying
Just diet and diet and endless weighing.
Succumbing to photoshopped perfection
Comparing impossible to a too-real reflection.
Don’t you just wish that the need to be thin
Was more about you, than the size of your skin?