Showing posts from October, 2018


It was so sad to hear of the tragic death of Vichai Srivaddhanaprabha in a helicopter crash at Leicester City. It was just a reminder as to how precious life is. PreciousLife is preciousSo fragileA single momentOne solitary secondIs all it takesTo take awayA soul

When Plastic was Fantastic

A poem that reflects on the fall from grace of the use of plastics. When Plastic was Fantastic When plastic was fantasticIt was all the rageThought it was the future A material here to stayWe loved the fact that straws could bendCould be made clear, coloured and curlyFish and chips in newspapersReplaced by takeaways in traysDrinks in plastic bottlesSo easy to discardGlass bottled milkNo longer clink clinkGone forever almost extinct. We thought this was the futureWe certainly didn’t foresee That all this crap Would eventually End up in the sea.

I’ve always been a beer drinker

It seems to be getting more and more difficult to order a drink in a pub nowadays. I am predominantly a beer drinker but occasionally I have a G&T. Ordering a G&T is now like ordering a cocktail, other than the fact there doesn’t seem to be any standard names for the different concoctions. There’s no equivalent to Sex on the Beach...or is there? I stand to be corrected. Anyway here is my poem about the subject:I’ve Always Been A Beer Drinker
I’ve always been a beer drinkerDidn’t care too much for spiritsBut when I did it had to beA simple glass of G&T
The other day I was in a barThinking of what to drinkFancied something differentBut here was my predicament
When I said I think I’ll have a G&T They looked at me confusedWe have 50 sorts of gin for youHere take a look at the drinks menu. 
There was so much to choose fromA brand from every town and cityAnd what is this fuss about tonic botanicalThe choice in the past was full fat or low cal
So many combinations to choose fromPl…

Big Black Boots

Yesterday we went to Whitby for the day not realising that it was Goth Weekend. Even though Saturday and Sunday are the main event days there was still a great vibe in the town. What was great was how friendly everyone was despite their appearances. Big Black BootsBig black bootsBlack frock coatsFrightening looking folksWhite faces paintedNot for the faint heartedAt the alter of Bram StokerSkulking in a dim dark cornerVampires for the dayVictoriana at playSinister yet sereneA nod to what has beenTransformed into Goth CityThe seaside resort of Whitby. 

I Feel Like Stretch Armstrong

Yesterday I went to my first ever yoga class. I have got to admit that I wasn’t looking forward to it. I thought I would be the only bloke. As it it was I wasn’t. It felt a bit strange at first but I soon got into it. This poem is loosely based on that experience. I Felt Like Stretch ArmstrongI feel like Stretch ArmstrongA bit of yoga it didn’t take longTo get into positions not naturalSeemed at first very irrational
To do a downward facing dogBreathing easy to clear the fogThings got tough I became a warriorAching limbs I became even sorrier
Struggling to balance on my matThinking where to place my fatThat I’d even bothered to turn up at allShe said it’d be good I would have a ball 
Another stretch this time a locustPraying to god this torture mustEnd and be able to stand up normallyOh no another movement of deformity 
Relax she said as I balanced on a brickHoping that it’d be over pretty quickOur next move was against a wallKeeping us up to prevent a fall
I’ve got to admit it was better …

When I retired

On days when there is only the mundane to keep me  occupied I have to remind myself why I retired. It is easy to think this is the beginning of the end rather than a new beginning. This poem links those thoughts with my love of sport as an analogy. 
When I Retired
I didn’t retire from lifeDidn’t want to be a spectatorStanding on the sidelinesWatching the clock ticking downWhen I retiredI wanted to be a participantHave dreams and ambitionsPlay a full part, know in my heartThere’s nothing more left to giveWhen I retired I wanted to be a better team playerA giver rather than a takerSupporting family, my loved onesAchieve their goals and ambitionsWhen I retired This was just half timeThe end of a frantic first period This was a new startNot the end


Yesterday getting back from Santorini was a long slog to say the least. The Easy Jet flight was delayed by about 2 hours. We had to wait for what seemed like a lifetime to get our bags back. Then on the M56 home we were stopped in a traffic jam for two hours as the police tried to deal with someone trying to jump of the motorway bridge.  This poem tries to summarise our journey:
WaitingWaiting, just wastingOur life in a queuePlane lateDoing my bestTo avoid been in a statePandemonium at the airportPeople a plentySitting on the floorFeeling feckless and fraughtNothing to do Just negative thoughtsPraying for our timeTo get on the planeWaiting just waitingFor our bags to arriveWatching the clock tickDreading the driveBags in the carWe didn’t get farBumper to bumperPolice shut the roadA poor soulOn a bridgeThreatening to jumpTwo hours we waitedI guess we should  Have been elatedWhen a disaster Was avoidedAnd a life was savedWaiting just waitingWe should be gratefulWe have a good lifeWorth w…

Ancient Thera

Today we spent our last day in Santorini. We decided to climb up the mountain which was at the back of the hotel in Kamari to Ancient Thera. This archeological site was very impressive and certainly worth a visit, both from s historical perspective and the terrific views of the coast.
Today’s poem is about this visit;
Ancient Thera. 
This was a walk to history
A little mystery
A little adventure
As we took tentative steps
Towards a life alien
Yet so familiar
Each step closer
To a previous civilisation
As we climbed higher
The world below
Turned microscopic
As we approached
Something historic
Perched precariously
On a mountain top
Ancient Thera
Welcomed us to
A world where imagination
Takes us to another place
Where genius from a previous age
Invented, created civilisation
To remind us that we are transient
A speck on the history of this world.

Daft Rhyme

This week we have been exploring Santorini. As it is right at the end of the season we have managed to avoid the crowds by and large. This is a beautiful island made more so by the whitewashed buildings and churches with blue roofs. I tried to write a poem to express this beauty but after several disappointing attempts I just wrote a daft rhyme. (P.S. before anyone points it out, I know a lot of the references are Italian and Santorini is in Greece. But I struggled to find Greek references that rhymed with Santorini. Makes the poem even sillier!!)Daft RhymeI’m no meanieCertainly no Mussolini Enjoy a bit of Puccini While sipping a dry MartiniWith my wife in her bikiniI used to love the SweeneyI used to own a beanieEr indoors say mine is teenie Royal wedding a bit of Eugenie Man City managers Mancini and PellegriniItalian hot spots Tuscany and RiminiAladdin and his little genieI know this rhyme is a little sillyBut god I love a bit of Santorini. 

Storm in a tea cup

Yesterday sat in the spot you can see on the picture, we awaited the sunset in Santorini. Four young female tourists sat down beside us in this fairly smart bar. One of the girls asked for some hot water. The waiter questioned why she wanted hot water. Well to cut a long story short the whole situation descended into a farcical stand off between the waiter and the customer over her desire to make her own cup of tea. (With her one tea bag). A little limerick to describe the event: Storm in a tea cupFour girls sitting in a Santorini barStarted acting a little bizarreWhen asking for hot waterStarted berating the waiterWhen refusing her some to make char.

Seville Stunner

Last night I sat down to watch England play Spain away in Seville in the UEFA Nation’s League. I was expecting a comfortable Spain win. How wrong was I! In the first half England were superb, going into the break 3-0 up.  The second half was understandably a different story with our back against the wall. We defended resolutely and managed to hold on to a historic 2-3 victory.  Seville StunnerThis was a famous night in Seville. An England team demonstrating the skillTo tear a talented Spain apart A performance gutsy and full of heart. 
Sterling a player previously misfiringScored two goals, was awesome, inspiring Rashford cant get a game with UnitedSeeing him score I was totally elated. 
3-0 at half time,England in dreamland A game to compare to the 1-5 v Deutschland. The second half backs against the wallEngland struggling to even get the ball
A headed goal, Spain pulled one backOnly one team on the attackA goal at the death made it a 3-2 victoryUp there with the best in football histor…

Inspirational Drought

I am currently trying to write a poem a day for a full year. I have completed about 290. Usually I can complete one in about twenty minutes. Today I really struggled. I wrote two poems, however I didn’t think they were very good at all and threw them away. I started to feel quite frustrated with myself. I decided to write a poem about how I felt. Hopefully tomorrow I will wake up with renewed inspiration!Inspirational DroughtToday I’m feeling fraught.Reeking in self doubt.Challenging every thought.An inspirational drought.
No time to think or cry.Words,eliminated, erasedBefore the ink is dry.Quiet confidence replaced
With a hollow emptiness  To express this pent up feelingOf lost hope. A shallownessOf sentiment that’s concealing
Those lost syllables of insight.The dismal darkness descends As I desperately seek for the light,Of returning creativity to transcend.

My First Car

I don’t think anyone ever forgets their first car. Mine was a maroon Hillman Avenger similar to the one in the picture. I bought it in 1982. It was about 6 years old. It had only done 17,000 miles. It was won by an old lady in a competition and was only driven on short journeys. I thought I would be buying a reliable form of transportation. How wrong was I. We went to Bristol from Hull once in the car.  It broke down at Brough, just outside Hull, the first time. Instead of deciding to turn around we continued. It broke down about 5 times on the way down. Each time the AA thought they had fixed it.  As soon as the engine warmed up it came to a shuddering halt. 12 hours later, we finally arrived in Bristol. However I still loved this car.  It gave me freedom for the first time to explore and have my first knocks. I eventually caved in and sold it and bought a green MG Metro. This poem expresses how I thought abought my first car:My First CarI remember my very first carA Hillman Avenger …

Saturday Night (Not at the movies!)

Most Saturday nights during the autumn like a lot of the British population we settle down to watch X Factor and Strictly with a bottle of red wine.  Often I don’t quite make it to the end of the evening without dozing off. This poem is about our Saturday nights. Saturday Night (Not at the Movies)Saturday night watching TVA little bit of X Factor and StrictlyWine in one hand remote in the otherThe bottle placed handy for another
It feels a lot like a guilty pleasureVery chilled out simply no pressureNothing here to tax the mindNo big step forward for human kind
It’s simply nice to relax and unwindWatch Simon Cowell try to findThe next superstar the next big thingAsking what song they would like to sing
Then there’s Bouncy Bruno waving his armsSpreading compliments about dancers charmsFeedback sometimes gets pros a little furiousNot when Revel Horwood says they are gorgeous
At the end of the night a little worse for wearI struggle eventually to get out of the chairAnd slowly stagger up the…

Couch Potato

I wrote this poem today, following my wife’s excellent effort in completing her first ever 10k run. Less than a year ago Lesley could not run 200 metres without having to stop. Completing the Couch to 5K programme, using a phone app, she has now achieved a distance she could only dream of. I feel proud in my small part in helping her to do such a good distance. Here’s to a half marathon!!!

The Fall

I am always sorry when autumn arrives as this is a reminder that summer is over. However I do love the autumn colours.

Not Keen on Decorating

I have been busy the last couple of days decorating my son’s bedroom. Decorating is not one of my favourite tasks. Here’s a poem about my latest effort! Not Keen on DecoratingI’m not that keen on decoratingI don’t have the inclination Even though our rooms are degenerating Cos I’m lacking in motivation
To do anything about itUntil my wife has a quiet wordTo encourage me to commitResistance now being quite absurd 
So out I traipse to the shedDrag out old brushes and rollersFind the old bed spreadThat I use for furniture covers
Bedroom emptied onto the landingTake one deep breath and beginThe miserable task of sandingPaper so rough it hurts my skin
Once the dusty mess is madeA bucket full of sugar soap solutionWashing walls, cleaning skills displayedProbably more like dirt re-distribution 
Finally we’re ready for the paint jobEven opening the tin is a nightmareSeveral attempts later, starting to sobTin lid finally free, was starting to despair. 
So now armed with roller and paintI attack the…