The Dressing Up Box

I was looking at a meme about the idea that we are ghosts inside a meat coated skeleton, made from stardust, riding a rock whilst hurtling through space, and I thought ‘there’s a poem in there somewhere’ 🤔 So here it is. Borrowed clothes of passing time, Once formed a cobweb so sublime. Those golden

The Secret Garden

Another haiku from my End of Days series. No, partygate will not be gotten rid of, forgotten nor forgiven. They partied whilst people died alone. The secret garden 24 hour party people Stage their own lock in. The threshold of No.10 where 24 hr people disappear, only to emerge as amnesiacs with peerages and promotions.

Ps. Pm…

Part of my series ‘End of Days’. Each new day feels like exactly that, the end of life as we once knew it. With endless atrocities deceitful lies, corruption and scandal after scandal ever unfolding, we are indeed living in dark times. So many ‘gates’ of evil opening, all leading to a desolate landscape. ‘Partygate’

The Runaway Train

Carrying on the back track Yet another train of lies Are Shunted northwards The runaway mouth ran over the hill and he blew it. Again. Unfortunately, the last I heard he was going still… Yet another empty promise for the North. The abandonment of HC2. Second in my new occasional series ‘End of Days’ where

Elastoplast for the Past

Slipping behind again with my blogs again. Where does the time go🤔 When I first started my blogs up, the plan was to post a few times a week. So much for plans🙄 I’d have been better off doing a diary (as I write in that every day. Anyway… here’s a short poem I wrote

Random Haiku from my Covid-19 Diary (Day420)

This was written on one of the down days. This pandemic has impacted on a lot of peoples mental health. Being forced to live life in an abnormal way doesn’t sit well with me. The day I start to accept the abnormal as ‘normal’ is the day I give up railing against this machine. No

Random Haiku from my Covid-19 Diary

April Fool!

Poem: Orb Worship Revisited

I see a bit of sunshine and at once my spirits are uplifted and borne away on a sunlit day, so artfully. Let’s hope there’s more of it around the corner. I was reminded of this poem I wrote, so I’ve revisited it. Orb Even the shite shines golden, You can see why the Druids

Dark Queen

I wrote this poem a while ago.  I’d like to say that the inspiration fro this came from some sort of gothic queen I had been reading about, but it didn’t.  The kind of person I envisage is one who waits, listens, sees an opportunity and uses situations to their own advantage.  She sits quietly