One reason why not


School today? What feelings provoked?
Anxiety high depression low.
Head down, no eye contact made.
The corridors, your motion slow.
Avoiding jocks, planning route.
Make it to class?
Hoping to make it
Through those you pass.
Make it to class,
A ping on your phone
You look down
Feeling very alone.
A message, a picture,
Your heart in your throat
Uneasy reading a bullying gloat.
Alone in your class
Surrounded by threat
Just being there making you sweat.
The ring of the bell
A break, but not for you!
You seek shelter
You hide in the loo.
Locked in a cubicle
Blocking out sound
Hoping desperately
Not to be found.
Repeat repeat
That day that week
Weeks into years
The hallways you sneak.
At home in your room
Your dad asks “You ok?”
“Good” you reply
At pretence you play.
Another message
Can’t get away
It carries on
Even after school day.
Thinking of ending it?
No where to turn?
Why can’t it stop!?
Peace you yearn.
You’re not alone.
There’s a place to go
People care
Click the link below




Most regrettable information
Made real impact
Measuring revealed illness
Makes reflection inevitable
Magical revealing instrument
Medically relevant intervention
Magnetic resonance imaging.

This poem was inspired by a question on twitter, asking if a MRI could inspire poetry?

Parallel lives

Live life full to snow capped mountains.

Valley depths of cavernous flow

High potential seek fulfilment

Hide and slumber mine shafts low.

Seek the good and meditation

Closed eyes cower with condemnation.

Parallel lives a contemplation

Which path was my flow.

The Ginger Green Eyed Cat.

The ginger green eyed cat
Did a bit of this, a bit of that.
Prowling the streets alone
Scouring for a house so prone
Looking for an unlocked flap
Come in your house and knap.
Devour from a left out plate
Leave your house a right old state.
He didn’t care it wasn’t his
Leaving a clue of ginger fizz.
The green eyed ginger cat
On other people’s food grew fat.
His muddy paws stain your mat.
What you think of that?
He’d come on in, steal your milk
Be gone before you blink.
Never gave a thought at all
Stealing, adding to his haul.
The ginger green eyed cat.
Did a bit of this, a bit of that!

No words for friends

It was a long journey for two friends

They rested a little while

They’d wandered many a field and hill

Crossing many a style.

They said nothing as they sat

And watched the golden sky

Listening to the song bird.

Time just passed on by.

“it’s been worth it?”

Said one friend to the other.

“it has indeed.”

Replied the friend, more like brother.

They didn’t say much that day.

They knew each other well.

They’d always been there

For when the other fell.

Some friendships need no words

Rooted in solid ground.

They were just thankful

For the friendship they had found.

Ads don’t lie!

A Mars a day
Helps you work, rest & play
Well that’s what the ad
All those years did say
So took the advise
And 40 years on
The resting was right
And all my teeth gone
Sat on my sofa
To big too play
I’m glad I listened
To what the ad did say.

The bride 👰

Hair brushed,
Air brushed,
Hidden behind a veil,
Whats the truth behind the tale?
Fairy tale? tell tale?
What’s inside your mind?
When the veil is unveiled…
What truth lay inside?

Great Expectations

We are the youth of today
The problem of tomorrow
I know nothing
But drugs and sorrow.
Family issues
No one cares
Start a fight
Cos He stares.
Life is hard
So keep up my guard
Won’t let you in
Hide in Gin.
Scared to trust
Hurt all my life
That’s why I take up the knife.
Societies expectations
I cannot meet
And find friends
In crime on street.
But I long for a better life
Someone to reach for me
To help me out
To help me see
Will I be a statistic
In a hopeless nation
Or will you see my worth
With Great expectation.

Dedicated to the great work of Great Expectations

Please check out their website



Sunshine rays wash my face.
Basked in warmth and light.
Like positivity projected
No matter my personal plight.
Whether sorrow surrounded
Or happiness enveloped
It shines where I stand
My emotions developed.
Where I am it speaks
Whether eroding or I thrive
It speaks one thing universal
It tells me I’m alive.


Joy beyond measure lapping your sole

Breeze so surrounding, senses alive.

Sun on your face, warmth embraced.

Beating heart living more than survive.

Living worth living

Purpose and goal

This how!

The world should roll.

Save East Sussex Music

Bob Bob Bob
sing it in the street
You can do it.
Hear the music beat.

East Sussex musicians
United and play aloud
To councillors and people
And the gathering crowd.

Don’t cut the music funding
Let the music speak
That’s transformed lives already
To fulfilled from once Bleak.

Music that inspired children
Giving them hope and worth
Giving a path much better
Making this a better earth.

Bob you can do it.
You can make it right
Don’t cut the music funding
East Sussex future bright.


Albert The little Bear. 🐻

Little Albert the clever bear

Would often pause and stare.

Looking at people passing along.

When he they saw would sing a song.

In front of him place a hat

People loud say “Well look at that!”

They marveled at Albert bear sing

And recorded it on a video thing

And post the clip on line

Where Albert sung wonderfully fine.

But no money they placed in his hat

He’d wonder why they didn’t do that.

Even though they clapped and smiled

It drove little Albert wild.

And that’s when it had to stop

Along came a move along cop.

“You can’t be here a complaints been filed.”

“Wild bears by definition belong in the wild.”

“Come on hurry your little feet”

“People don’t want you in their street.”

So he put on his empty hat

Thinking “Well what you think of that”

Into the wild, off he trott

Little Albert the bear forgot.



Trump the oxymoron

It’s because I’m very very great.

And an educated oxymoron.

That divides and conqueres

To hide my biggest bestest con.

Say something, say something else

Reiterate I’m the very best

Belittle with no evidence

Must say it with zest.

They are all liars!

You know, the ones that don’t agree.

I’ll come back to you on that

And mark my words, you’ll see.

You’ll never find anyone

More honest than I.

It’s all of the others

That tell fake news, lie.

They are very very bad

And it all their fault.

Bad men seeking evidence

In my lawyers vault.

It’s an attack on me

An attack on the land of the free.

Fellow Americans I urge you.

“Only listen to me!”

Age Old Tradition

Into the tavern they tarried not
A throw back era time forgot.
There they doff their gloves and coat
Happy hour, the ale they smote
Twas a happy place to have thy fun
For 2 pie and chips, the price of one.
Merriment for one and all
Until the last order call.
Then Don their coat and gloves
Made hast to their true loves.
The eve was late and off they walked
Slurring staggering as they talked.
The world to right, they placed well.
But in the morn unable to tell,
What world solutions found,
But went to work instead.

Get away

Hustle bustle of seaside town

Gulls that swoop on chips and fish.

Sand in sandwich, life enrich.

Leave your troubles.

Stroll the front, breathe the air

Away metropolis, shed all care.

Don off the busy

Embrace the now.

Leave behind the fattened cow.

Regards to nature

Warm embrace

Feel the sun apon your face.

TV 📺 Drama

“Turn over the telly!” she said
OK thought he for rubbish was on.
But then the panic set in
For the remote control was gone.
Frantic searching high and low,
On shelf above to under the chair
Remote control where art thou?
But its not there.
Accusations fly.
The air is tence.
Not willing to walk to TV
It makes no sense.
You had it last?
I didn’t you tit.
Well you get up
From the arse on which you sit.
It came to blows
And venomous fight
But still the remote
Was not in sight.
Hands round neck,
TV on BBC two.
Remote still missing
Not a clue.
That by the tv
Was where it lie
Its location responsible
For one to die.
Then he saw it.
Last breath he never heard her.
He just turned over
And watched diagnosis murder.


Pistons pumping
Purposely proud
The excitement
Of the station crowd
The fireman loading
Shovels of black
Steam hissing
The crowd stand back.
The whistle
The flag
Mighty wheels turn
The steam train powers.
The anthracite burn.
Transported to a bigon time
Where steam was king
Of the railway line.

Harold the musician

Harry was having lessons
On the piano from his mum.
She was teaching fingering
From little finger to thumb.

He kept on asking questions
To fuel his hungry mind
But if he had listened
Understanding he would find.

Shhh said his mother
And listened to my instruction
Then you’ll get to play
Rather than my wrath and your destruction.

A valuable lesson learnt
The important thought lingers
The piano wasn’t for him
As he didn’t have enough fingers.

Different perspectives

It may take longer for me to get there

But I will because my will is strong.

I love and laugh like everyone

And cry when things go wrong.

I may take my happy meal apart

And eat in a different way

But see from my perspective

I play in a different way.

You may not get me

And my uniquely individual mind

But when you know me

A wonderful boy you find.

I’m not a condition

Or stereotyped facts

I’m an individual. Pleased to meet you.

My name is Max!


Bitter freezing gnawing claws

Like cold deaths merciless sickle

Hunting vulnerable prey

Who’s abandoned street beds lay.

Clinging to hope for warmth has gone

Banished in societies Street.

Singular alone invisible to sight

Clinging to a diminished fight.

Sapped of humanities warmth

Cast out, forgotten, forlorn.

Not even worth our scorn.

Where is the warmth was it even known.

Destitute abandoned alone.


Dedicated to a very special man. You know who you are baaa.


Ivor was a talented sheep
Singing from a lamb
He didn’t follow the rest
As he didn’t give a damn
His blessed bleating voice
Found him fabulous fame
And saved him many a time
From the harvesters flame
Ivor sang the West End
And Broadway in the US
The audience loved him
With his singing he did bless.
Then after the hight of fame
After he was at the top
He got older
And felt he had to stop.
He started to listen to critics
Who Ivor they would slam
The papers blasted saying…
He was mutton dressed as lamb.
But Ivor’s last performance
Was gawaddiod in Aberdare
And he sang to the best he could
And didn’t give a care.
After that Ivor disappeared
Vanished without a trace
However in aberdare can be seen
A fox with smile apon his face.

Guns guns gun

Guns guns guns we need more guns

To protect us from the bad man

Who towards us runs

I know he is the bad man

Because he’s not like me

I’ll just fire a warning shot

To make the bad man flee.

Guns guns guns we need our teachers armed

Then from the bad man I’ll

Keep my students from harm.

There he is pointing the gun at me

I shoot and fire there can be no


I stop the bad old man and watch the mirror break.

Poetry in motion

Old and New, contemporary or not.
Restricted predictive rhyming, or not.
Can I speak words that are true
Whilst rigidly rhyming stuck like steel.
Dichotomy, paradoxically, contrary veiw.
Can the poet say something new ?
Or expressive reflective profound profuse,
The executioner word Smith tightens the noose.
To end with a word that completes the rhyme.
A question to answer
If I only had longer.

Ain’t that the truth

The king has got his robes on
Processing through his land
People bow and stare
At his noble stand

None dare speak a word
Each thinking same thought
But they think in isolation
No confirmation sought

Welcomed with fanfare
As boldly he marches in
Then suddenly as a boy spoke
And heard the drop of pin
A boy with innocent wisdom
The Kings face a Scarlet rose
Spoke through the detritus
PROCLAIMED, he ain’t wearing no clothes


Where do I really stand?

Would I switch off my phone

To listen to a friend in need?

Would I give money to a homeless man,

To momentarily feed?

Would I welcome a friend home?

Who’s in need of a hearty meal?

Would I give my child my heart?

To embrace them and warmth to feel.

Would my last wage I give,

To loved one in dire debt?

Would I give my material all

When nothing back I’d get?

Would I give life;

For a brother or a friend?

Knowing your last act

be your very end?

And would I give my life

For a stranger from danger to save?

And act of complete selflessness

Some say foolish others brave.

As the choices get more difficult Where’s your line in the sand?

Be provoked to think

Where do I really stand?

Tender shoots

The tender shoots of spring approach

The winter ebbs away

Welcome the warmer beams

Of sunshine in a longer day.

Winter you were cruel

Like a tyrants masters whip

We politely bid you farewell

As into welcome spring we slip.

Little Max

Little max in the bath I put
Down the plug hole he put his foot
The water filled and there he stayed
As water filled as he played

Higher and higher the water rose
Caused by his little stuck toes
Over the side the water ran
Now daddy has given max a ban.

No more to bath that naughty tike
Out of the bath and on your bike
However with that cheeky smile
How could one not like
Go on run it again you cheeky tike



Irrational thought of manipulative foe
Parasitic, riding where’er you go
Bleed your life dry
To exhaustion lie
Zapping good will
To point of your will

Break the vicious cycle
And stand for yourself
Toxicity be gone
And the haters shelf

Remember your good to no one
If you become the shadow of your man.
It’s OK to think of yourself
And to the pathogens give no damn.

Remember those who love you
Who’s thoughts are your best path.
And if the parasitic foes continue.
In sympathy offer a laugh.


The little man

There was a little man
Who lived in a little house
Who’s love of cheese
Caused him, to befriend a little mouse.
They laughed and joked and discussed things
From politics to sport
They were both a little partial
To cheese and a little port.
Happy and contented
They lived a happy life
They chatted by the fire
Far from grief and strife.
Then one day the little mouse
Said to the little man.
“do you have any regrets to share?”
“Only one” he replied.
“would you care for me to share?”
“please do” said the very little mouse
As he listened with intent
And snuggled into the little man
And inquisitively his head, he lent.
The little man took off his spectacles
And took a long drawn breath
“It’s a story of love and life” said he
“and a very tragic death”
“When I was young
A child of little years
My father told me stories
That would calm my little fears.
I’d listened hard
and listened true
To every word of my fathers voice
Would listened stuck like glue.
He prepared me for the path ahead
Firm and planted in his stead
Stories to teach me for this life
Stories to help me through the strife
And prepared me did he
For all my years
Through happy days
To days of tears
For my stability
I have him to praise
For he has given me
Happy days ”
The little mouse
hitched up his head
And to the little man
He said.
” well that is lovely
Why have regret
Your dad allowed you
A good life to set”

The little man with tear in eye
Holding back trying not to cry
Said “I loved my dad”
“He gave me much
And forever
I will feel his touch.

But I regret one thing alone
One thing I don’t condone
He loved me and told me everything day
But it’s not a compliment I repay
I wish I told him when I had the chance
And that he could see how he made me dance.
If you feel it express it when you can
Because you never know when you’ll miss that man. ”

I love you said the little mouse
To the little man in the little house
I love you too he said in reply
To the little mouse who on his shoulder lie.

And they Sat there by the fire bright
And continued to chat into the night.

The working man 

The working man

Hands of tarnished black

That yield the anthracite vein.

Carrying heavy history

Of passion blood and pain.

And yet a song so emotional

With brother a harmonic throng

In the deepness of the valley

Is born a poets song.

For chiseled in the darkness

The sound of hope and light.

And the anguish colliers passion

With hwyl and gusto bright.

Out of the pits of comrades

One hears the engine sound.

The heart of a choir

The family underground.

Black Friday 

Black Friday

Black Friday black Friday
What does it say
Sanity lost
As the cash we pay

Sell sell sell
Get what I can
Attack the old lady
The selfish man

What is our ethos
What about us does it say
As we forget our humanity
As prices we pay

What about family
And things about love
Kindness and peace
Lick branch of the dove

Want want want
What do really need
Black Friday consumes us
As we fuel the greed

What if we invested
In family and friends
And reflect on our wrongs
With foes make amends.

Blackness darkness
Devours the soul
The blackest Friday
In deepest dark hole.

An anti Christmas carol
Where we forget the old tale
Let’s assess our priority
And at Christmas not fail

What’s worth more?
A material thing?
Or to reach out to each other
And with brothers to sing.

Forget all the wealth
And open your sight
Forget black Friday
And turn it white.


Remote control where are you?
Hidden in some obvious hole

The control fairies

Achieve their goal
Frustration set

And search in on.

Blaming everyone

Where’s it gone.
Unsettled now

Can’t let it be

You look in the fridge

But won’t touch the TV.
The principle it there

It called a remote

Getting angry

At your TV’s gloat
I will not turn over

By touching that box

The bloody remote

Will me, not fox
Then at last that

The frustration pass

The remote control

Was under your ass. 

Word Smith 

Word Smith 
Words so powerful

The sharpness of swords

Or blunt and pounding

Like hammer yielding hoards

They can lift you high 

Or break you down 

Evoke a smile 

Or conjure a frown 

Stick and stones they say

Can break your bone

But names will never harm 

Say that to the bullied teen alone 

Say it to the depressed

Or anorexic girl 

Or fat body boy

Who words they hurl 

Words have power

To set one free 

Or from life to hide

And make you flee. 

I give you the choice 

As smiths of words

On anvil of speech 

To forge the swords

A sword for truth

Cutting away the wrong

Or swords of hate

Creating an evil song. 

You are the custodians

With your undecided speech 

To curse or bless

With words you reach.