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A girlfriend once tried to persuade me to move to the countryside but I was too in love with city life and the rock venues - it did not end well (see video below)   DANCING LIKE A BANK CLERK I love living in the shadow of these office towers Media hyenas are howling in the dirt Fashionistas flow - they’re as delicate as flowers  Shooting down the breeze for lifting up their skirts You ...

Spare a thought for the exhausted exploited retail store employees who hear Jingle Bells a million times over Christmas tannoys. This is to honour their sacrifice and exhausted cynicism...   THE CHRISTMAS CASHIER Ka-Ching!   Let’s hear it now for Christmas Time Clean up crew to Aisle C We got a special deal in store for you Two loan sharks for the price of three Oh! How they laugh at your overdraft!   We got ...

Venus was thought to be the Earth's beautiful twin sister but the reality is oh so different and a damned good metaphor for certain failed relationships to boot.  The eerie sound of the constant lightning detected by the Venera probes led Russian scientists to nervously refer to it as the 'electric dragon of Venus'. VENUS RISING Curtains close on twilight When Venus casts her spell Where her beauty shrouds A sulphur-burning hell Where titanium snow ...

Written after three death-bed vigils in five years and the choices made to let loved ones go... Step Into the Light I hear the skip-rope beat of another failing heart and she's calling me from a world away and the first step is such a perfect place to start... So I lay her down as blackbirds sing her soul as fragile as an insect wing she's drifting through the endless night she takes my hand ...

  When life deals us another cruel blow... Dedicated to a soul sister in South Africa with love And  also on being denied access to my grandchildren. Birds still sing, somewhere; But just for now their sounds are muted, dead. There are reasons for our seasons… And just because those things are hidden does not mean they do not exist. All that ever happens is still winging its way into the stars; And, if overtaken, ...

An old rhythmic rap about American Excess cards and gun culture. To be read aloud with a pulse preferably...   DEATH IN A DRIVE-BY What could be worse than being shot in a drive-by A block in the back of the head by a fly-by Talked half insane by some half-assed wise guy Getting stoned to death by a dread-locked I-and-I Blinded right and left by two fingers of red-eye Your heart lies in ruins ...

Faith in tribulation Inside those half-dreaming lids where man attempts to find some kinship and wakes, eyes wide... There lies a common thread  that binds us all together enduring, eternal. Though trials and circumstance afflict us sorely, The Captain is still in command. I lie, a storm-cursed sailor tired of dreams… But waiting in the guts of me to see dry land.     ...

The pain of the inevitabilty for some ...

I attended a 21st memorial service three weeks ago for the victims of the massacres and spoke to survivors - their harrowing tales were unbelievably heart-wrenching. I reposted my angry song (accurate according to the survivors) about the nationalism that led to this and the inaction by the UN. Such a blood-stained monstrous creature He's the Butcher of Srebrenica He tips his hat at the hookless meat War widows walk on bleeding feet He swears ...

Ah, Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire! Would not we shatter it to bits - and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire! -- Omar Khayyam ...

A reflective poem of inner peace with thanks to St Julian of Norwich ...

Written when newly re-located to the city and missing my crows. Hear my voice in your cold dark dawn frosty branches and purple streaked sky. Awake! rouse yourselves! heads removed from covering wing. Come now, to this small city dwelling. Fly above the cliffs and the barren cornfields, majestic architecture and city churches. Let me hear your noisy ponderings as to the reason for your summons in adjacent bleak trees, devoid now of foliage, mute, ...

A song for all those unable to cope with the insensitivities of fame. Maybe they are not so lucky after all ...

A poem about finding relevance in a turbulant world, family and loved onesand claiming your place in it all.(with loose reference to various cosmologies worldwide which speak of Mother Spider)  There’s a dark night ahead.But,while the light remains...I‘ll host a banquet in your honourand sit you head of tableThen, help you to your rest when indigo descends.The pull is on the web,but while these legs still walk I’ll fold you all in in caring kindness ...

Wraith. A ghost or ghostlike image of someone, especially one seen shortly before or after their death ...