Motors quietly spring into life, propelling the killing machines like clockwork scythes, wreaking havoc and trouble and strife, knowing no value of human life. Robotic motions showing no emotion, just forward motion to the enemy they march, through water and mud and railway arches the machines come alive to dominate the world they strive. Chopping … Continue reading Killing Machines
View from the Shadows
In the lonely shadows I hide, watching two worlds collide, scared to venture outside. I live with pride, that I am not part of what’s going on outside, part of the animalistic joyride, of sheep that swim with the tide. I’m happy in this lonely place where I hide. Some nights I have cried and … Continue reading View from the Shadows
Obscured Light
The bright sun gives way slowly, to a dark grey creeping moon, darkness will be here soon. Rays of light flicker from the ever-advancing moon, changing the shape of the sun, as coldness descends, on a summers day, when the moon and sun are both out to play.
Empty Vessel
Inside this tin shell, there is no heaven or hell, just a void, a dark space inside, where my soul goes to hide, it feels so long ago that this inside died, leaving no trace, only ice, in this dark place. I looked long ago for life in this deserted cell, but, found only my heart, … Continue reading Empty Vessel
Absurd Words
Give a poet a word, something quite absurd like lemon curd, OK that’s two words. What can be done with lemon curd, that uses and twists and turns words, that makes them rhyme in perfect time. Poets can play with its use, turning it to radioactive slime; using it as a cleaning product to get … Continue reading Absurd Words
The Bored Bard
The bored bard tried hard to write a shard of prose about his toes, why he wanted to write about his toes I guess only he knows. The bored bard, found it hard to write anew every day, in an exciting way, so, he wrote often a load of rot and then sometimes it was … Continue reading The Bored Bard
Chip Shop
The smell of chips permeates the air, rushing down streets assaulting the noses of everyone it meets, the fish and chip shop deposits it’s message everywhere, in alleyways and streets. The smell that makes your hunger swell, that draws you in to that hot pungent food cell. Battered cod and haddock and rock, cooked perfectly … Continue reading Chip Shop
Passchendaele
Hail and rain, mud all around, machine gun clack, no turning back Passchendaele. Men dying in bullet hails, shouts and painful wails, Passchendaele. Over the top to certain death 6000 men lay in the mud, oozing blood, Passchendaele. Edgar Mobbs, hero of the hour, over the top for to a machine gun stop, cut down … Continue reading Passchendaele
Venomous Poet
Venom spitting poet, on paper with ink his venom sinks, spitting words in sheep like herds, serving aces changing faces. Firing bullets like cannon balls smashing into crumbling walls, angry sage of the modern age firing fury onto blank page. Take no prisoners please or offend, word Smith creating fire to send, rewriting lines that … Continue reading Venomous Poet
Across the Aisle
Their eyes met in wonder lust, trying to avoid each other’s gaze on the bus. She looked down, as if to frown, he took his time, before looking away. She looked up briefly and gave a smile, he caught it from across the Aisle. He bowed his head as if to ignore, but, knew he … Continue reading Across the Aisle
Rhythm of the Ink 
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