1  Do not stop your car to read this sign.Thank you
2. If you can’t read this sign get your eyes tested~unless you are illiterate
3 This sign is not here till further notice
4.This sign is here but don’t look at it
5  Harald Bluetooth, please call the police.
6.This sign is due to be painted so please take a photograph  of it for future use.
7.This sign  is paid for by the   local hospital to let you know
they have no A & E now.Please drive carefully.
8.Hollow road ahead liable to  flooding
9. This water is dangerous.Please don’t drink it
10 This sign is the last one before Hardknott Pass.Look at the road.Do not panic.Very few cars  have fallen off since Xmas

 Oh,longhead Viking, who were my forebears
Eric Bloodaxe,Harald  Bluetooth,Cnut?
Their lady wives as vicious as the men
Who  will  love me true or give the boot?

I blame you not for fearing my hot breath
Yet I am  ancient Roman,British,Welsh
A thousand years have passed, but I am here
With Danish eyes and hair, but bones of Celt

Hence my  double joints and  glaring eye
My golden hair  in trouble with its plaits
My legs are bowed,my feet can terrify
Why not send me  home to   feed the cat

Britain   has succumbed to Viking   blood
We’ve’conquered you again, oh men of wood

After all the wars,love still endures
Grace comes through the cracks, grace is the cure
Babies born in tents  on wet cold ground
Eerie  through the trees comes labour’s sound

But grace, like rain, needs openness and care
How can these refugees  bear children  here?
We enclose ourselves  in  fictive webs
Netflix,Prime , the BBC, the bed

We do not want to see the sky and stars
Downing gin and cocaine in the bar
We have  plastic lawns and paper flowers
From the   handmade dog to City Towers

There is a door but who can spot it now?
No poverty,no chastity no now

Joy sings now in golden light

Though after day comes black of night.

The moon is rising by gray trees

This world is where I want to be.

I want the day, I want the night

I want the day. I want the light.

I want to see and to be seen,

I want to  float into my dreams.

The sun has set , gray clouds turn black,

The day just gone will not come back.

I’ll rest in quiet reverie

Until the Reapers’s scythe takes me.

And then I drop and mix with dust,

As worms and beetles sate their lust.

I fall into ten thousand motes

In  sweet light ,dance music’s notes.

No more striving.no more ambition,

No more fighting,nor competition.

Every particle’s the same,

Without even a personal name.

And side by side,we all are one.

The lusts of life have been and gone.

We dwell with dirt and grain and sand

At last we’ve reached the Promised Land

There seems to be  a mystery inside
That is as big as what is called outside
A world of endless depth, of vision too
As large as all the oceans green and blue

In these depths do monsters swim untamed
Or sacred angels  of the nameless Name?
Is what we see a product of  our needs
And what all humans have, a lonely greed?

Ethics  and our values  make me think
Be careful as you listen not to blink
The  moment when the eye is  closed is short
Yet gives a gargoyle time to make its point

Strange creations, faces  that bring fear
Decorate  cathedrals as they sneer

Baked beans on adders ‘ tongues
Adder baked and multiplied  with loaves, no fish left.
Ten lizards doused  in olive oil and brandy [flamed]
Deep fried eels in batter with chips [optional]
Bamboo  and ducks’ legs in a nest {Duck dead}
Roast potatoes  with gingered  leaves and topside
Beans in lentils brewed with whiskey with side salad

Jellied raspberries  and creme faux gay
Transparent loaf  with sardines  teeth  filling
Nail filings on  jumbo strawberries with artifical, artificial cream [ 2 negative may not make a positive]

Someone other guided me to act
Deep inside my voice had been unlocked
I sang the psalms and then a lullaby
Not aware in thought  that you would die.
I fed you with a teaspoon the mashed fish
From a  plate as good as one might wish
Like a little child you tried your best
You winked at me and gazed  like one who’s blessed
You sat up with  a  brighter  face at last
Then lay back and  God knows all the rest
Oh, don’t go yet ,my darling,I am here
The floor of heaven came down  among my tears
Made of sumptuous satin  golden,dear.
For a little moment it hung low
Then it rose and  took you in its glow
I saw your soul like that of a wild bird
Taken by the Power  who  spoke the  Word
A sheet of tears fell down from my closed eyes
It’s hard ,so hard when those you love  must die

This was a  photo of a small lake before I played with it

I am sorry I can’t come out.My distressed jacket has just arrived.
Denim,say what you like… you can beat it,distress it, rip it and some idiot will buy it
Distress it yourself.. teach it quantum  mechanics.Or let the dog sleep on it  if and only if you can  sleep by it and sing ,O for the winds of a dove
I can’t come out either.I can’t get my  jeggings off and I need to answer the call of nature.Moo mooo
What made you buy a distressed jacket?
It was half price!
Why can’t  you wear it to come out?
It might cry
Are you crazy?
How would I know?
Are you unwell?
No,I’m Dutch
Like a dyke?
Are you always boring or is it just  the heat?
I have no idea
You can take some of mine.i am full of the.
How much are they ?
How much what are they?Wool?
I mean the cost
Free to all daydreamers
I  like that!

Like the adder,I would shed my skin
Extravagant ,new painted colours bright
Then I’d live with snakes,my new true kin

In my wavey life, emotions run
Tempting only other snakes in sight
Like the adder,I would shed my skin

No arms to hug, no bosom,but much fun
Wriggling my whole body in sunlight
Feeling one with snakes,my new  true kin

Once such transformation has begun
We  cannot ride the wind like   children’s kites
Like the adder,we would shed our skin

All other  needs must for this be foregone
Change and breed, for all must hibernate
Then dwell with snakes in burrows where sun’s dim

In the frozen winter,sleep all night
Sleep all day and live without love’s rites
Like the adder,we should shed much skin
The endings of the nerves , life’s   origin

What Makes a Good Poem?

Patricia Hubbell. Black Earth, Gold Sun. Marshall Cavendish, 2001. City Kids. Marshall Cavendish, 2001.

“Prose = words in their best order; Poetry = the best words in their best order”—Coleridge said it, and I believe it. Poetry IS about words—their precision, texture, beauty (and ugliness). Prose is about words, too, but not in the same way. Prose is about the bigger picture. The canvas is bigger and so are the brushstrokes. A good poem, whether narrated by a character or by the poet her/himself, uses words wonderfully, and it uses them to capture specific moments in a fresh way, a way that makes the reader exclaim with delight, “Yes, that’s it! That’s right!”

A good poem may also ask philosophical questions. In its condensed form, poetry gives these questions an immediacy, a great power to startle and grab the imagination. Poetry is great for asking—and sometimes answering—those questions that come to you just as you’re falling asleep.

The roses by your gate
Revealed my sweet fate:
That I would love you in summertime,
That my poetry would always rhyme,
That a dream of petals falling from above
Would drench us both with sunshine’s golden love;
That we would fall into deep grassy meadows
Full of daisies,lie on our backs.Swallows
Darting across the sky would see
Our shapes intertwined with bright buttercups.
Who knows when love will erupt
And carry us on its flowing waters
To places unreachable in summer saunters?
Into the eye of love itself

Who owns the weapons of mass extinction?
The Queen has been raining since 1954 at least
Brtain  is a mock-democracy.
We sell instruments of torture to keep the Economy entranced
Across the  globe people are  locked up without trial  but has it made the world safer?
You can kill one Osama but there are others.Why not use the power
of reason?  Why not  think? Why not wonder?
It’s madmen  playing games to make their names