The Retired Bloke

This poem was written after visiting the memorial in Budapest It was conceived by film director Can Togay, he created it on the east bank of the Danube River with sculptor Gyula Pauer to honour the people who were killed by fascist Arrow Cross militiamen in Budapest during World War II. (Wikipedia) 

A short poem about the unique ruin pubs in Budapest. Definitely worth checking out. My favourite is Szempla Kert. It consists of many adjoining eclectic rooms all decorated in differing style...all quirky. Y wife’s favourite room was the chemistry inspired one...that you can see above. Beer could be had in conical flasks.  Ruin Pubs Booze, beer and broken houses An atmosphere altogether unique Attracts night owls to their inner halls Eccentric decor adorns the walls Graffiti, uniquely, not out of place In other lands, seen as a disgrace Here the atmosphere is electric Senses stimulated , quite eclectic Music, magic, mayhem and madness Pulsating beats with a little brashness Art, entertainment fully expressed Down in the ruin pubs of Budapes

A poem about how we are obsessed, in today’s society, about self image. This poem explores how different it would be if we couldn’t see ourselves. 

This dark poem tries to reflect in a small way the pain endured by someone with mental health issues. Clearly not autobiographical, but elements are drawn from some of my darkest times. 

This poem was written following our visit to Elvis’s honeymoon home in Palm Springs. We had an amazing tour with only two other guests. We were able to sit on Elvis’ bed, see his bathroom and the pool in the back yard. At the time of our visit the property was up for sale. There was a danger that it could be bought by a developer who could knock it down. This would be a real disaster. Hopefully an Elvis fan buys it! 

Last night I spent a good couple of hours with my good friends Peter and Martyn. This reminded me of a poem I wrote earlier in the year about friendship. The pub you can see the two guys sitting in is the Rat and Ratchet in Huddersfield. This is a great micro brewery pub which serves great ales all “Rat” related. I think you can see Martyn drinking a brew called Rat in me Kitchen. Huddersfield is a good place to go for a real ale pub crawl. 

Life begins Just lying   Occasionally crying Then crawling Sometimes bawling First stepping Confident walking Hesitant running Start cycling  Stabiliser removing Wobbly riding  Long biking School sports competing Exams taking Some even passing University starting Degree completing A bit of travelling Work commencing Serious dating Mr and Miss right engaging A fairy tale wedding Kids conceiving Gender revealing Baby showering Painful birthing Lovely christening First birthday celebrating Watch them growing School starting School leaving University starting University leaving Kids marrying Grand children birthing Family outing Start hiking Think about retiring Finish working Increase holidaying A bit of gardening Back starts hurting Hips need replacing Increase use of zimmer framing Legs stop walking Need supporting No longer stepping Memory fading Feel like bawling Struggling crawling Just lying Then dying. 

My life has been one big battle A battle against the bulge Weight up and down since antenatal Always wanting to over indulge  On savoury and sweet things On crisps, cakes and all Greggs bakes On fish and chips and chicken wings On Indian curries and strawberry shakes Never a healthy salad in sight No nuts and seeds and stuff like weeds No I like fried stuff all dripping with fat Fulfilling my unhealthy comfort needs So to compensate I have to run And run and run and run and run Some days it’s horrible certainly no fun But with all this crap I’m eating it’s got to be done I keep saying to myself one day  You won’t be able to burn off all those cakes And people will look and say If only less ice cream cones with flakes Then as I wobble around the house Not being able to do much But to watch tv and lay on the couch  With food being my only crutch I think to myself I’ll have to make the change To reform from eating oh so unhealthy Make the change and forever exchange The salad for the swee

Flying high, high in the sky Peacefully watching the world go by  When without any warning Something quite alarming I came over rather queasy Pretty crap rather uneasy Beads of sweat on my brow The cause I know not how In and and out of consciousness  I was suffering serious distress Cabin crew instantly alerted As were passengers medically learned To my assistance they flocked Tried to assess tried to predict What was causing the issue A solution for me to commit to Dehydration was the diagnosis Plenty of water a positive prognosis Three water bottles later Starting to feel much better To the wonderful people I met I will be forever in their debt That I stayed alive  On flight UA935

“It’s no good” she said I will have to lose some weight As she struggled to get out of bed “I want to have abs toned and tight” There’ll have to be a stop to slobbing Doing nothing much just eating “Why don’t you take up jogging?” She thought I must be joking “I’ve heard of couch to 5k” “A programme to help people like you” She looked at me laughed and said “no way!” “I’ve never been a jogger, it’s something I simply don’t do!” Time went on she tried to resist But I kept on nagging Really tried to persist Pointed out the sagging Several slaps later She gave in relented And laced up her trainer To a test run she consented The first stage, a gentle walk To get all loose and warmed up Out of breath no need to talk The moaning started I said “wassup?” “I can’t do it it’s just too much effort” “You haven’t started jogging yet” “Bugger off my legs are starting to hurt” “Come on love let’s build up a sweat” I said trying to be motivational coach If looks could kill I wouldn’t be writing this

Every year on my birthday I get cards Messages from friends, kind regards So what did they tell me this year Little ditties to fill me with cheer Well apparently “today’s your day” To have a brilliant time...hip hip hooray “Chin chin it’s your birthday  “Have a splendid day” That card was fine Didn’t need to think about the rhyme But on this day I’m “never too old” To do what? I’ve not yet been told But according to friends it’s going to be  “Another Year Full of Adventure” you’ll see Evidently some think I’m special even when It’s not my birthday..they need to think again But my wife thinks I’m her best friend But I really do think it will depend On whether I’m doing my little chores Like doing the pots or mopping the floors My mum thinks I am special and wonderful  To be so perfect can be so dull Some cards are left blank for creativity I guess they can hide their negativity And so to the last card so long had I waited For another birthday wish, slightly belated. 

Take out your chewing gum dear I thought it’d be perfectly clear That to chew when serving coffee or tea So rigorously that we could easily see The bit of gum going round and round Surely this bit of advice is not so profound It’s simply manners and customer service To pay us the respect, simply stop chewing  So that I can stop thinking about pursuing  Another place to go To drink my macchiato. 

Bones creaking Arms swaying Legs stepping Mouth breathing  Body aching Pace increasing Chest heaving Stride growing  Steps increasing  Rhythm smoothing Breathing settling Speed enhancing  Route covering Pride developing Toughness improving Heart beating Heavy breathing End nearing Finish completing Pride bursting Great running 

They’ve changed the lamps in our street There used to be an orange glow Which lit up the path where you wanted to go But now there are direct white beams Of LED light, a good idea at first it may seem Saving the planet, now that must be a good thing But these create sinister patterns, rather frightening As you walk along the paths alone at night Who know whose lurking in the shadow that might Jump out and cause you grievous harm  I don’t want to create unnecessary alarm But please give us back our light So we can safely see at night. 

I am fearful of growing old So old that I can no longer live No longer independent, controlled In a vegetative state where I outlive All my friends, my wife, my generation Unable to run, walk or even crawl A parasite on the tax paying population Where each day I fear of an inevitable fall Where no one cares whether I live or die Just a burden to everyone around me All I can do is stare aimlessly into the sky Try to remember when I was wonderfully free When I had all of my life in front of me When joy came from laughter and fun The touch of my beautiful wife Lesley When there were so many dreams to be done I am fearful of growing old I guess this is a good thing So choices made now can be so bold Allow me to be positive to everything Embrace life live it to the max Enjoy every moment every breath I take Don’t be afraid of heart attacks Soak in every second make the odd mistake I guess I should be ultimately grateful That I have lived a long enough life To be fearful of actually growing

This summer reminds me of summers past When endless glorious days seem to last I remember lazy days, the ice cream man The excitement when we could hear his van Playing tinny tunes to attract the hoard Of children who’d buy what their parents could afford I loved a 99 topped with sprinkles and syrup There were no worries that we wouldn’t burn up The calories as we didn’t know when to stop Playing energetically outside until we’d drop I used to have a neighbour, a friend called Mark We used to play tennis until it was dark We dreamed of playing at Wimbledon Competitive maybe but lots of fun Somehow in those days we were not afraid Of the sun in whose heat we endlessly played Those days were carefree, happy and simple A wonderful memory for me to rekindle. 

Silent steps forming imperfect imprints  With wind intermittently blowing in the hair Gentle movement avoiding the sprints  How far to go I really don’t care The isolation and peace is deafening  With breathing constant like a metronome ticking A clear focused mind is beckoning  There’s no space for conflict no politicking.  One step after another time passes discreetly Asking no questions expecting no answers  No worries in the world if only briefly  With rhythm played out like well drilled dancers   Oh how this experience moves me so deeply.  A feeling of freedom an experience to preach Of running free ecstatically alone on the beach. 

I’ve watched this place from afar But standing there was bizarre An almost surreal experience  Once secretive, quite mysterious But now I was standing there With fellow citizens to share The magnificence of Nash’s splendour Breathing in the history, a surrender To the pomp and ceremony  Which stand firm a testimony  To our country’s Royal lineage Paraded on such a glorious stage Rembrandts Canalettos and Rubens  Previous monarchs immense contributions To the Royal collection there on show Priceless pieces of art to bestow But this is not a stuffy museum A rotting place, a mausoleum  But the beating heart of our nation Embracing the traditions of this generation And every generation beforehand Some may not agree I understand The value gained from the royal family But here on that day the real fantasy Lived out by all those present, wide eyed Could not help to have a warm feeling inside Oh how I wanted to dream and reminisce That day in the State Room of Buckingham Palace.

Life’s too short To be self absorbed  To be self consumed To feel feel regret For failing to notice Tonight’s sunset. 

The briefing made it loud and clear  That we would have to persevere  To reach the summit, the iconic O2 To witness a simply stunning view I’ve got to admit I didn’t like the harness much Gave me a wedgy, too tight on the crutch  The walking shoes completed the kit Another reminder it would help to be fit.  We made our way up stairs to the start The gradient of the walk, a flutter of the heart Hooked on the line we started the climb Gingerly making progress not looking for a time Step by step the vista magnificently appeared  All our fears melted away, disappeared Canary Wharf majestic in the sunlight  Seen at its best from this amazing height  At the summit we were unshackled, let free To take in the view, pose for a selfie It felt amazing, it felt like home To be on top of the Millennium Dome. 

I think I suffer from ADHD As my mind wanders about you see I try to live my life in the moment But rapid thoughts in my head prevent A simple line of sight to see to concentrate On anything for long. I know this doesn’t exonerate Me from any blame for poor judgement  Or for not finishing tasks or being reluctant To take responsibility for my actions Or my occasional unexpected reactions There are some benefits that I can see Making quick decisions based on what I foresee ADHD though can be so tiring The brain always engaged perpetually firing I would like now and again to have a blank mind To relax and to discover inner peace and find The reason for my tiring resistance  The purpose of my chaotic existence.

There’s one place left on earth Where no one living has dared to go Where deep in the recesses anything can linger Where black holes look on jealously  There seems no order to what lies beneath And although open is very much a shut case Where prying fingers face corporate punishment And the thought of a foreign body being inserted Brings instant derision and has to be averted  At any cost if you value your life Yes there’s no stranger place than the bottom of the handbag That protectively belongs to my darling wife. 

What is the protocol of a urinal When there are only three Do I pee in the middle one Or do I choose the far left  Or take the far right option When every other one is taken Do I try to squeeze in between At the danger of nudging another  Creating an unwanted scene And what is it with blokes with belts Who proceed to fully undo them Is it so large that they need the space To position their massive manhood in place Well all I know I’m tell you now For them to finally finish Do up their belt and leave the WC It takes a bloody eternity No good when you’re busting to go When stood patiently crossed legged in the queue Now there’s another bugbear of mine When you get a multi-tasker Able to hold Percy in one hand While texting on the phone with the other How do they do it, I just don’t know If it were me I’m sure I’d lose control And miss the porcelain and dribble on my toe Sometimes you stumble across a shy one When all the urinals are free They scuttle into the traps Afraid someone will se

It’s no fun when you get a puncture on your bike It’s a bloody inconvenience of which I don’t like Hissing away laughing in your face The bloody bike, it’s a terrible disgrace It doesn’t make it easy with its tricky derailleur  My frustrating failure very poor behaviour  By the time the wheel’s off I’m up to the eye balls In black oily muck, when a passer by calls “Do you need a hand” “No Thanks”I replied Pride before a fall, I was dying inside The tyre decided it didn’t want to depart From the wheel, so I couldn’t even start To repair the stubborn thing at first But some elbow grease and I gave it my best And all of a sudden the tyre gave way...passed my test Out came the inner tube all limp and apologetic Getting annoyed with this seemed rather pathetic  Soon the new one was eased into place  Ready to be pumped my saving grace With some more clever dexterity the wheel was back on And the battle against the bike I’d finally won. 

They were only supposed to be temporary After the war a structure to house the homeless With an inside loo seen as rather contemporary Some may say that they were soulless But to me the Arcon on Arcon Drive Was an oasis of fun when I was about five I used to stay with Grandma and Grandpa Play football on a field at the back not far I would run in the garden round and round Pretending I was a train making a whistling sound I remember sitting at the table on a big wooden chair Enjoying mince and mash, a dinner beyond compare There was no central heating just a gas fire To go to the freezing bedroom I had no desire In summertime I would watch with wonder As grandpa tended his tommies and the occasional runner I loved the prefab the house for the masses Even if they are viewed now through rose coloured glasses. 

Now I don’t class myself as a greedy person However when faced with a breakfast buffet feast It doesn’t need any persuasion any coercion To turn into a five course hungry beast What is it when confronted with the temptation At home I’d just have a bowl of porridge  But on holiday I’m tempted to eat a small nation To be honest I’m not sure where I find the storage I often eat two big chocolate muffins A bowl of Kellogg’s cornflakes Never mind the repercussions  Some bread and cheese some creamy cakes Some fruit to make me feel healthy A couple of donuts woofed down In the corner hidden from prying eyes quite stealthy  In coffee, tea and orange juice I drown When the sun comes up at the beginning of the day And confronted with the breakfast banquet I need self control and find a way To say thank you very much and politely decline it. 

I made a big mistake this morning To press my iPad on switch Because without any warning All best laid plans I had to ditch First Facebook drew me in Watching other people boast About daughters playing violin  Or husbands burning toast Instagram then beckoned me Just asking to be pressed Another follow for a wannabe Involuntary action...couldn’t resist  Time moving on time to read the Twitter feed Reading some dross gave me the hump I could do without, certainly don’t need More inane posts from Donald Trump Time passed on another morning wasted Only saved by the nagging of the wife My iPad threatening me to be updated And the ridiculously short battery life 

Cleaning my front drive block pavement Is not my kind of fun or entertainment I’d spent weeks watching the weeds ignoring The task that I knew would be so boring So today out came my pressure washer To clean separately each block right proper With the powerful machine in my hands  And all the energy that it demands Each block separately needed addressing Oh god such tedium simply quite depressing Splashing the muck all over my feet  Bloody hell I wish I’d got concrete Buzz buzz buzz went the spraying machine As hard as I tried it wouldn’t quickly clean Spray splashing up windows and walls Oh god my beautiful clean glass she bawls The vibrations totally gave me the jitters  As a mass escape by the hiding critters Trying to avoid a certain death More dramatic than in Macbeth At last the job was finally done How can anyone see this as fun So here’s to a few precious months when I’ll have to start the bloody thing all over again!

The Spirit of Chartwell, a majestic craft Weaving a course through the Douro A resplendent vessel with a royal history Embraced by a few fortunate travellers Enjoying the natural beauty as it unfolds before them High in the hills terraced fields Soak in the summer sun Waiting for their time to come, to deliver their bounty Of grapes growing patiently on the vine  For artisans to use their inherited craft To ferment into perfect Port wine  An experience such as this can cleanse the mind A reminder of what’s important A recalibration of human spirit  Where there’s no limit with whom we can connect A life enriched with new friendships  Simple pleasures of good food and conversation A time for well earned relaxation  It will be a sad moment when it is time to say farewell  To the like minded folk Who traveled together aboard The Spirit of Chartwell. 

Today that dreaded moment arrived And thankfully I lived, I just about survived My bowels were the focus of the attention A camera up my bum did I fail to mention The purpose of the procedure, big C screening Which required an enema to do the cleaning Can’t believe that folk enjoy this as a treat Pay for the experience, make their life complete Nothing glamorous at home poking A tube up the bum with my wife hoping That her involvement would be kept to a minimum Wasn’t keen to insert it further up my bum A little squirt and all was done, just needed a little fermenting Time stood still until it was time to spend time sitting On the bog until the concoction did its trick The end result like a waterfall, all over quite quick Next step was, hold on tight, and off the the hospital Hoping and praying that I wouldn’t lose my bottle In the waiting room I sat down nervously Seemed a long time sweating profusely Soon it was my turn, silently walking to my fate To be to

It happens every Saturday A rag bag collective of runners On a non work day quite early All walks of life from lawyers to plumbers Gather to do their weekly 5K Now I’m not judging, don’t get me wrong The bodies on display all shapes and sizes Some chubby and short some lean and long A pooch taking its owner for a spin A mother clinging onto pram and baby Waiting patiently at the start line to begin There’s the obligatory announcements With cheers for visitors and first timers Three, two, one and all the contestants The good the bad and the beginners Are off on their circuitous journey There’s the sprinters who rapidly set off Their bravado doesn’t deter me Overtaking them later, I’ll try not to scoff Then there’s the kids who have no right Their little legs rapidly running At the third lap to be out of sight A great achievement quite stunning Then there’s the mothers meeting Three portly women walking side by side No deodorant needed, certainly not sweating