Peace

Christmas brings with it certainty,
Of songs as inevitable as the hours passing.
Talking of peace and good will to all.

Lyrics ring hollow in this world though.
Give peace a chance but many don't.
The state of all suggests the ignored.

Mankind conquers all but fails
At the simplest task given,
In the gift of the human condition.

To love and love with ease,
Without rules and conditions,
Regardless of who.

So put away politics, science and space.
Put down technology, objects and war
And let peace reign in love.

Loss Of A Neighbour

I might move out today.
Got sick of the neighbours
And want my own space away from this lot
Who I didn't choose to live next to.

So off I go
Close the door and walk away.
For some reason they look a bit sad.
Don't know why, I always thought they didn't like me.

"He's sold up and gone love.  Apparently he's gone somewhere
He can be alone and that he'll better off away from here!
It'll seem odd without him and I always thought he was such a nice chap.
I hope he doesn't need to borrow a cup of sugar."

Me

Imagery, metaphor, abstract,
Overused.
Say what you mean.
Describe the reality.

What is the reality of me?
What am I like?
What has shaped me?

Yorkshire stone, solid, strong
But soft enough to weather,
To change, to age without
Changing too much.

Like my hills, not severe,
Dramatic but enough,
Enough to be alone.
To be part of busy but above it.

"Do you notice the views?"
Handsome for some, interesting
For a moment to others.
But always there as an escape.

Say what you mean.
Touch the stone,
Walk up the hill,
Look at the view.
That is me.

Generation Gone

It's dying, but there are still a few of them left.
The classy generation of manners and front.
Smart isn't an occasion it is just a state of being
Shirt, tie, blazer, frock; a second skin.

What do they see in the rest of us?
With our colours, our fashions, trainers and caps.
I wonder if they're intrigued, baffled, confused,
Or just entertained by a circus world of clowns.

Did the world start losing the plot when it took its tie off?
Are we less secure without a stiff upper lift and Sunday best?
Was it for the better when all was more plain, more simple?
Maybe they should convince us while there's still some of them left.

Sky Shed

I've been milked, milked dry.
Paid a heavy price.
Now I can become a cow.
My herd move steadily.

Seats for stalls,
Heads nodding,
Vending machine cud.

My ear's not tagged
But there's plenty of ways to i.d. this cow.

Open the gate and in we go to the seven hour shed.

Its Gone

Cobbles are polished, smooth
By that thing that ticks.
Feet shuffle past like each year.

I can see where it has gone this year.
Its been good. Its had highs
Of new hearts close to mine.

Its seen choices made for nobody
But me and the right thing to do.
I have grown again.

So join me from tomorrow,
As there's always room beside me to stroll.
Happy birthday.

Time Travel

Its like a time portal from a movie.
You've only got a few seconds,
Push ahead.
Never mind if there's anyone coming the other way.

I made it.  I had to make it. Ahhh
Miserable relief of what inevitably is at journey's end.
Now, where to place myself?

Do I have a choice? Yes, maybe sometimes no.
Did I have a choice to come this way? 
I suppose not.

Mostly, I want this to be a solo experience,
With someone's breath on my neck.
Touching limbs melt together but ultimately
We're all just a jumble of atoms in this northern test tube.

So why does it bother us so much?

I'm not good at intimacy and she's embarrassed
At the best a'times he could be liking it
But he's asleep.
He sneezed and they winced from the mist.

Forced to look at a picture, I don't see art in your groin.
A recital of all that's not happening in your life,
Still might be preferable to the cricket's march.

Hang on, the exhibition is moving,
To the left and now I get to learn about diet
Because the rent's late inspite of her contract.

Voice in a box puts an end to it,
Everything away the artists shuffle up.
The light starts flooding in, push ahead,
We've only got a few seconds.