Monday, 3 December 2012

My Broken Mind
Left and Right I think you’re Up and Down.
You mix me up send me down.
Turn me round, push me backwards.
I head forwards, my head held high.
My mind weighs me down.
My eyes see beauty, my ears hear sobbing.
My heart craves warmth, my fingers feel coldness.
One day down will swap with up and it will be all right.
Everything will be loud and bright.

Friday, 7 September 2012


What a thought
To sit and think
To open the mind
Explore dark corners
Explore empty spaces
Relive experiences
Relive your history
Picture the past
Picture the future
Smile and cry
Smile and laugh
Wonder about then
Wonder about now
Should have
Shouldn’t have
What thought?

Sunday, 15 July 2012

Teenager Car

The car is a teenager, losing the fragility of a newborn. Stone chips bubbling with rust, bursting through like acne.
Burst exhaust changing note daily, a deeper resonance lower and lower with every mile, soprano to bass.
Cracked bumper a scar to be proud of, telling of past near misses.
Dodgy alarm screaming in the morning protesting an early start, a temper tantrum.
 New tyres more expensive than sensible shoes, fuel tank demanding money every week.
Becoming more comfortable with you though, filling you with pride as it passes another exam, the joy of another year together, memories of places visited and sights seen.
The fear of a fatal illness or catastrophic accident ending our life together always at the back of the mind.
We should play more; have fun just for the hell of it.
Don’t let the daily grind take over don’t let our life together become a stop start grind.

Thursday, 14 June 2012

Tyred Life

As we roll along through life, wherever we go we leave a little trace, this trace is never noticeable on its own, but combined with everyone else’s a track forms, a rut, as all the tracks start to head in the one direction. Then a skid mark appears as your life suddenly changes.  Are you careering away from a seemingly standing start to full speed the opposite way or have you come to a shuddering halt? These black marks become a permanent fixture on our life journey, fading but never disappearing, careful though too many can wear you out.  A change is as good as a rest remember and replenished you can carry on weaving in and out of the traffic creating your own mark on the world a breath of fresh air keeping you going as hopefully one Goodyear leads to another.

Saturday, 26 May 2012

Ferry cross the Firth

The ropes cast off snaking away like apron strings
The thrum of engines building in vibrancy, increasing the heartbeat
Seagulls cries turning to bye bye bye
Harbour walls cleared, lifetime landmarks seen from a new angle
Emptiness of the sea emptying the mind
Waves slapping the hull hello hello hello
A new land on the horizon, unfamiliar landmarks waiting to be discovered
Headlands encircling the bay welcoming new life with safe arms
Apron strings thrown and caught, tied tight.

Tuesday, 27 March 2012

Son, Brother, Husband, Father, Uncle, Friend

Wednesday, 22 February 2012

Take me to an adventure

It’s a friendly place, a quiet friendly place

No need to explain yourself here everyone can tell

Everyone has the one connection here

All that knowledge and enjoyment neatly laid out

Old and new sit shoulder to shoulder their spines only giving a clue

A child’s giggle breaks the spell, a laugh from the children’s corner

Should we frown and shush?

No the enjoyment is there, the excitement of discovery

Understanding will come as they learn to immerse themselves in another world

Another world half created by a stranger, half by an endless imagination

Choices made, anticipation begins

Will you make me smile, will you make me cry, will you make me wonder?

You will take me to places far away, places I will only visit in my mind

Places I will remember for ever

Introduce to me new people, people I will like and people I will dislike

You will be mine for only a while, you will return to your home

Waiting patiently and silently for your next keeper

Hibernating until you awaken another mind.

Tuesday, 21 February 2012

Half a Hypochondriac

Goggle tells me I have the Black Death

My wife tells me I have a slight cough

TV news tells me I have Bird Flu

The kids tell me it’s the cold they had last week

A passer by tells me I have broken my ankle in six places

The kind A&E doctor tells me it’s a slight sprain

Men’s Health magazine tells me I have a fast growing skin Cancer

A shower tells me it was a bit of gravy from dinner

TV ad dentist tells me I have severe gum disease and all my teeth are falling out

Toothbrush tells me it was an apple skin

Gaviscon fireman tells me its heartburn

Post Mortem tells them all I should have exercised more, eaten less and not stressed so much about all the other things I thought I was going to die from.

Thursday, 9 February 2012

Time to tell

I hang on the wall, you hate me, she loves me. She says it doesn't matter that I am never right, that I am pretty and blend in well. You say looks aren't everything and telling the truth is more important.

Peter out

Peter took a step through the gate paused and inhaled the air. Filling his lungs made him light headed, it was the fumes from the traffic but he convinced himself it was freedom. This was it, now was the time to act. Looking intently at the cars, waiting for a break. The cars became unfocused and the eyes of the drivers became some sort of traffic light system. To him they were all red, showing no emotion and no let up. Not one of them went green and gave him the go ahead.

Peter jumped, he felt like he had been given an electric shock. With a bump he returned to reality and stared at the old woman next to him, her hand still touching his elbow. The jumble of words formed a sentence, on auto pilot he nodded to the lady, mumbled thanks but hated her for this touch of kindness, so he headed in the opposite direction of the pedestrian crossing she had pointed out.

A bus created a break in the traffic as it collected its human cargo. Peter dashed across the road staring right not left not caring but analysing the bus instead of the traffic. It was big enough, would do the job but the human element was too great.

With a surprising clarity of mind he started walking, but with a feeling of being pulled towards something. The traffic grew heavier both pedestrians and vehicles but the way was always pointed out to him. A green light, a quieter side street but always heading towards a destination.

He felt he had arrived, didn’t know where he was but this was it. Detaching himself from the world, he stood. Mass humanity passed him by, the shops and offices spewing out people like some bomb scattering its shrapnel in every direction. Slowly it subsided and he became aware of why he had come here.

Pensively he looked around then slowly approached the railing. The cars thundered below, it was far enough below but he knew that although he couldn’t see them, the cars had eyes. Eyes that belonged to someone and eyes that were being waited for. Eyes that would not recover. Eyes that would not see the world in the same way again.

Peter then felt eyes looking at him so he set off again, being drawn somewhere again, time was nonexistent, he had all the time in the world.

The water was black and still. It looked like a huge reservoir of the black gold the city was famous for. It was peaceful and peaceful was good, this was it. There were no eyes in there; there were no eyes behind him. The sorry's had been said, the tears had dried, there was only a peacefulness that was all enveloping, it warmed him, it hugged him and it told him everything was going to be okay.

Peter turned suddenly, expecting the old lady to be touching his arm again. The eyes looked at him full of questions, questions he couldn’t answer. The eyes and arm led him to the van, still peaceful. As the door of the van gently slid closed Peter took a last breath of freedom. The next breath tasted different not free but safe. It was safe air he was breathing again. Safe because the eyes were human, connected to someone who didn’t deserve to feel like he felt.

Tuesday, 7 February 2012

Adrian Mole's Girlfriend

The light oak box looked inviting, perfectly proportioned. Key in the lock waiting to be opened, begging to be opened. The key felt warm to the touch strong and forceful. The click of the lock was assuring and welcoming. The lid almost opened itself, perfectly weighted and balanced. The bright silk lining whispering as fingers run over it. Tempting you to explore further, tempting you into dark corners then a snap like a dogs bark as the lid whacks shut. the key cold now, secrets and pleasures forever locked away.

Friday, 27 January 2012

Nice to see the sun shining for the second day in a row, really does improve the mood now all we need is a 20deg rise in temp and it will be perfect!