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Showing posts from December, 2018

New Beginnings

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It is a time for reflectionIt is a time to be gratefulIt is a time for affectionIt is a time to be thoughtfulIt is a time to appreciate It is a time to be excitedIt is a time to contemplate It is a time to be clear sightedBut most of all it is a desireFor health, love and happiness free from dangersMaking a difference,to help to inspireLet’s raise a glass of cheerTo our friends, loved ones and strangers Here’s to a wonderful Happy New Year

I Forgot My Phone

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Yesterday Lesley and I went for an impromptu meal with Matthew and his girlfriend Caitlin to the pub at the top of the street. I was disappointed to realise that I had left my phone charging at home. Well, I guess it’s not a surprise that it was one of the best meals out we have had with our family for a long time. No-one was distracted and we all learnt so much about each other that we didn’t know. I have got to admit I didn’t miss taking that picture of my meal!!I Forgot My PhoneYesterday I forgot my phoneI didn’t feel all aloneI didn’t miss interacting with social mediaOr checking out holidays on ExpediaNo need to look every second for mailOr whether on eBay I had made a saleDidn’t matter how many extra followersOr Catch Up watching an episode of the BorrowersNo need to play Words with FriendsOr looking for the latest Twitter trendsA check for hits on my blog could waitOr recording on Lose It my current weightMy online bank account wouldn’t changeCould exist without knowing the ste…

It’s Finally Over!

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Still in the twilight zone between Christmas and New Year.  Too much time to think...and my thinking got me round to considering how much preparation goes into getting ready for just two days...It’s Finally OverSixty days of preparationSpending money no hesitationWrist hurting from writing cardsHappy Christmas yours regardsTrimming the tree with decorationsCollected from numerous nationsEars hurting from Christmas songsPresents bought to right the wrongsSupermarket slogs to buy the turkeySome little additions some quite quirkyPresents wrapped all glistening and shinyMine to the wife is a little tinyA few glasses on Christmas Eve At last a time to relax and breatheNo young kids so we’re aloud to snoozeJust as well, as we drank too much boozeTurkey stuffed and in the ovenTable set for about a dozen Queen’s speech comes and goes Glued to the set some festive showsDinner downed with a glass of bubblyFeeling stuffed, bloated and chubbyA few silly games to pass the timeGin and T and a glass…

Drivel

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It’s that twixtmas time again. Nothing much happening...so today I have just spent time playing with words and came up with this poem called Drivel. DrivelThis is a trifle trivialA poem not politicalPretty petty, partly pottyLacking lucid languageA bonkers brainstorm Bordering on bollocksA frivolous frolicMeandering meaninglessly Ebbing and flowingPerpetually pouring Mind numbing nonsenseBest before breakfastA bonanza of banal boredomDesigned to drive you dottyDepending on your disposition A frisson of fantasyNot meant for AuntieHard of hearing HattiePartly passing for proseMore like a double dose A death defying drivelThis is crap officialStunningly superficialBereft of anything beneficialWaiting, wanting the final whistleWishing this pissing poem would endFishing for a final full stopStop, stop, stopThis is a stinkerHook line and sinker!!

Abstract

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We visited The Turner Art Gallery in Margate. The main exhibition was Patrick Heron. He was an abstract artist, born in Leeds, who died in 1999. I always feel that when I see modern abstract art that I could do it, or certainly could when I was a child!! AbstractVibrant colours awash the wallsArty folk stand and stareEntranced by total abstractionA distraction from grey soulless livesLong hair, braids and edgy hatsPeering over glassesStroking beardsAll reality disappears A splash of redA swoon of maroonA splatter of pinkA gaggle of greenSome shades never previously seenShapes showered on the canvasRandom yet very specificBreathing life with every brushstroke In the outside existence Less bohemian typesShow a resistance To this nonsensical worldOf make believe Or magnificent observationYou decide....










I Wish He’d Brought My Wellies

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Today we went for a walk in Kent to burn off a few Christmas calories. Unfortunately I forgot to bring Lesley’s wellies and only brought her walking shoes. Foolishly I thought walking shoes were for walking!! Anyway I was in trouble for not bringing the wellies. (PS situation exaggerated in poem somewhat) I Wish He’d Brought My Wellies!At the church over the stileOnwards into the muddy fieldAtmosphere a little hostileAnger only vaguely concealed I wish he’d brought my wellies
Looking down, mud getting thickerBacks of trousers splattered with dirtTaking steps getting somewhat trickierWhen she slaps me I hope it won’t hurt!I wish he’d brought my wellies! 
Up and down the public pathways The moaning continued with vigourSeemed to go on for days and days If she had a gun she’d pull the triggerI wish he’d brought my wellies 
Well the walk was nearly overMud clarted on her shoes for all to seeFelt like we’d walked from Margate to DoverHope she’d find it in her heart to forgive meI wish he’d br…

A Year Ago Today

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(Picture taken on Boxing Day last year)A year ago today I started writing poetry. I had not written any rhymes since I was at school. When I mentioned it to my mum she said, unbeknown to me, my grandad had been an enthusiastic writer of verse. Well anyway today is the anniversary of my first poem. I committed, on this day last year to write a poem a day for a year. Well yesterday’s was the 365th poem I have written. (Not all good may I add!) Here is a poem about achieving this milestone. A Year Ago Today A year ago todayI am not sure what inspired meWhat drove meTo write a poemA poem about my state of mindMaybe to find myselfOn this new journeyA life changing journeyNot since school had I written a rhymeGuess I hadn’t had the timeSo therapeutic did I find the process That delved into the recesses of a mixed up mindI made up this mind to write dailyA poem about life, my lifeOthers’ lives, society Moments of historyThings inconsequentialOccasionally sentimentalSometimes monumental 365 p…

Margate Christmas Parkrun

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This morning, despite having a few beers last night, and it being Christmas we decided to take part in the Margate. Joining me was Lesley and my brother and sister in law, Paul and Lynne. Despite feeling a little delicate I managed to finish in about 25 minutes. Margate Christmas Park Run. Christmas hatsRunners kneeBloke dressed upAs a Christmas tree
Some were keenSome were not Down the boozerSome had been. 
Park runners chatting Some like Santa Padding aplentyExtra cladding
Starters gunAll elf let looseBobbing hatsLots of fun 
Some were quickSome were slowSome too fastWere nearly sick
Merry Christmas Happy New YearPark run overTime for a beer!!

Christmas Eve

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When I was a kid Christmas Eve seemed to be the longest day. I was so excited that the clock seemed to stop turning. It was the only night of the year I wanted to go to bed early so that Christmas Day would come sooner! Today’s poem tries to capture the excitement of the night before Chrsitmas; Christmas EveTick tock, tick tockThe hands turned slowlyTick tock tick tockIt was not that I was holyTick tock tick tockWould Santa ever comeTick tock tick tockBe patient said my mumTick tock tick tockPillowcase put in placeTick tock tick tockA spare one just in caseTick tock tick tockA peek into the skyTick tock tick tockIs he coming I do cry?Tick tock tick tockTime to go to bedTick tock tick tockCuddle up with tedTick tock tick tockToo excited to sleepTick tock tick tockOne eye open to peepTick tock tick tockChristmas can’t come too fastTick tock tick tockFast asleep at lastTick tock tick tockDark still outsideTick tock tick tockExcitement cannot hideTick tock tick tockSanta’s been hurrayTick…

Motivation

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Manchester United are my second team after Hull City. I was so pleased with the impact that Ole made yesterday. It was like a Man Utd team of old. It got me thinking of the art of motivation. MotivationThe secret of motivationIs managing the emotionBeing a positive inspirationSpreading a sense of elation When all goes well; recognitionWhen things go wrong don’t dampen ambitionCreate a sense of coalition and competition Not attrition nor inquisition Motivation not a text book renditionBut a human to human exhilarating condition. 

Bloody Drone

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A topical poem this morning following the chaos at Gatwick. May have to keep my toy zone locked away in its box!!Bloody DroneCould this be one man aloneCreating chaos in just one zoneUsing a remote on his phoneA new way of terrorism he has shownA modern day Al CaponeArmy operation, dog with a boneHoliday makers moan and groanPeter, James, Jenny and JoanWho this Christmas will be staying at homeSuch misery nothing will atone Flights off to Berlin and CologneAll because of a bloody drone!

Echo and the Bunneymen

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Last night Lesley and I went to see Echo and the Bunneymen, at the Holmfirth Picturedrome.  It is clear that, through the years, they have maintained their original fan base. There were very few people there under the age of fifty! An introvert Ian McCulloch sang all the Bunneymen hits to a very appreciative audience. By the way if you haven’t seen a band at the Picturedrome you are missing out. It is regarded as the North’s best small music venue. Always a great view!Echo and the BunneymenGreying, balding, middle aged menBobbing along to rhythmic beats From a time before Twitter and tweetsChanting along with Echo and the Bunneymen
Greying balding middle aged menBeer in hand accompanied by the MrsNot a time for cuddles and kissesHands held aloft remembering when
Greying balding middle aged menSome endured several divorcesBring on the dancing horsesEighties relived in a magic music den.

Who’s Stupid?

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I am not very political I am afraid. I like to observe politics from afar. I was, though, amused that after months of infighting within the tories, one faux pas by the leader of the opposition, united the conservatives...even for just a short time.Who’s StupidI am not a fanOf Jeremy CorbynOr infighting in the toriesResignation storiesI’ve had it up to hereIf I hear another BrexiteerOr a rambling remainerI think I’ll do a runnerTo where I do not knowAway from the TV and radioA disconnected governmentShare prices in descentChaos on the benchesSome pathetic excusesFor humankindI think you’ll find“Stupid Woman” he did sayIn question time yesterday! 

White Horse and Griffin

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Last night we travelled to Whitby to stary over at the White Horse and Griffin. As we have retired we were missing out on a works Christmas do. So we decided to have our own, just the two of us. The White Horse and Griffin is the oldest place we have stayed in. It was built in 1618. Captain Cook recruited sailors here. Charles Dickens slept here. Even Michael Caine has stayed. It is a place steeped in history: White Horse and GriffinSleeping with historyAmong whispering wallsSlanted windowsOld wooden doorsA creaking stairA wall brick bareGhosts of the pastTheir futures castExplorers plottedJames Cook, William ScoresbyThe heritage thickensThe writer Charles DickensCandlelight, log firesHeightening the sensesAwakening desiresEyes closed imaginingThose who’ve travelledThrough these ancient vestibules Whose lives unravelledWise men and occasional fools Sleeping with historyEndless legends magical mystery. 

Festive Fun!

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Yesterday Lesley and I did our first day of traditional Christmas shopping in Leeds. We have done most of it on line or purchased bits and pieces when we were out and about. Yesterday was back to how it used to be. A list of people who we still needed presents for with only a vague idea of what to buy them. Well we spent ages just circling shops aimlessly viewing some items three or four times until eventually settling on something, often out of desperation, taking it to the queue at the till. I suppose this chaos, on a Monday, was due to us waiting to go shopping after it was starting to get too late to order on line. Anyway here’s today’s poem inspired by the whole experience;Festive FunPanic buying in the precinctLast minute Minnie’sThat’ll do DereksRushing, crushing In between Squeezing throughCrowded aislesNail files, three for twoFlannels, face masks, funky fart machinesStuff that’ll instantly gather dustRe-gifted to someone unsuspecting Last minute Minnie’s That’ll do DereksWom…

In my head...

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When I decided to start football coaching again the club secretary asked me whether I would like to attend a Futsol course. For those like me who didn’t know what Futsol was, it’s a five a side football game that is different to the five a side games we are used to in the U.K.  It is very popular in South America, Japan and Spain and Portugal and it is what a lot of the world top footballers were brought up on.  It is played with a smaller, heavier football that doesn’t bounce as much.  So here I was at Leeds Beckett University with what felt like a class of students. I was the oldest by about 20 years.  This was no problem in the classroom section of the course but when we got involved in the practical demonstrations of the game, it was a different matter.  I felt everyone of my 56 years! On one exercise I was up against a female school teacher.  I simply had to get the ball around her and put it into an empty net.  Ten attempts...no goals. It turns out that she was an ex Arsenal and…

The Christmas Fayre

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Yesterday we went to the Christmas Fayre which was being held in the community centre on our estate. How come when you go to these you end up spending a fortune on stuff that you didn’t want or get caught up in gambling on the tombola or bottle raffle?The Christmas FayreToday I emptied my pocketsAt the local Christmas FayreSmiling ladies sitting expectantly Flogging festive trinkets everywhereNovelties and homemade scarvesTantalisingly teetering on table topsA slice of cake and a coffeeTo make this all worthwhileAn enticing tombola ticket Come on you Lady LuckYippee I’ve won somethingYes something, quite somethingNot sure quite what it is...Unabated I try the bottle raffleYippee I’ve won somethingSomething in a box to drink I think!Only there for half an hourBut long enough to fill a bagA bag of stuff I’ll never need But all in a good cause My Christmas good deedA charity for stray cats indeed!

A Little Bit of Piece

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Yesterday Lesley and I, on the spare of the moment, decided to visit The Halifax Piece Hall.  It is a while since we were last there. Well, if you haven’t been lately I would suggest you go. There are great bars a couple of restaurants and numerous independent shops selling all sorts of gifts.  Being Christmas there was a couple of temporary bars in the square. It was just magical!A Little Bit of PieceWhat’s behind the numerous green doors?Adorning the majestic, historic three floors.Like an advent calendar, an exciting surpriseShopkeepers selling all kinds of supplies
Restaurants and bars hidden in cornersSelling mulled wine and other winter warmersFairground attractions adorn the squareA stunning space for all to share
Under the arches Christmas revellers gatherImbibed with beer to ignite the chatterTwinkly lights shining bright for all to seeA festive scene to fill your heart with glee
An historic gem, a quadrangle of delightA magical place on this cold winter’s nightNot in Paris, New…

Where Have All The Kids Gone?

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Yesterday afternoon we went to see The Voice Kids being filmed in Salford Quays. It was a marathon session of 7 and a half hours. We saw 12 acts being judged by Will.I.am, Danny Jones, Jessie J and Pixie Lott.  They were all superb and in my opinion as good as some of the adults on the main show.  However it got me thinking what sacrificies have been made to getting to the standard they were at. How much was down to  natural talent and how much down to encouraging parents...also read pushy parents. Would it be better to let kids be kids? Where Have All The Kids Gone?Where have all the kids gone?Grown up before their time?They don’t want to be a cygnetWould rather be a swan!
Is this down to pushy parents?Wanting their kids to fulfilTheir unaccomplished dreams Before becoming adolescents
There seems no time to be a childTo play with toys unpluggedTo enjoy life without responsibilityTo do things wonderful and wild
We cheer at kids who can singLike divas or pop superstarsWe marvel at their m…

Old Men with Big Ears

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I was watching TV last night watching the local news and the heartwarming story of Dickie Bird and the Yorkshire cricket team visiting a children’s ward to hand out Christmas presents. However I couldn’t help but notice how big his ears had grown. A little bit of research and I found out that everyone’s ears and noses grow all our lives. Pity they’re the only parts of the body that continue to grow!! Anyway this was the inspiration of today’s poem (not based on anyone in particular). Old Men with Big EarsGreat old men with fantastic big earsScars and wrinkles for souvenirsWisdom from a misspent youthOnly one remaining natural tooth
Great old men with enormous big nosesProud as punch of their prize winning rosesChildren love to hear their stories Loved labour hated the tories 
Great old men with aching backsNever wear coats always Macs Used to smoke twenty roll your ownNot much fun when you’re all alone 
Great old men with a walking stickNothing on face value, forever a sceptic Reflecting…

Man Flu

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Today I am not feeling well. I think I have got a bit of man flu. My daughter says it’s down to too much exercise, too much alcohol and not enough water/hydration.  Will have to cut down the exercise! (Only joking Emily!) So too unwell to do a long poem today so here it is: Man FluCreeping stealthily No warningOne minute wellNext minute hellHead bangingThroat scratchingBreathing wheezingContinuously coughingNo endTo the miseryThat I am causingTo all around me! 

The Daily Commute

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I woke up this morning in a rather confused state. I had set the alarm to be up to take Emily to the railway station. Somehow when it went off I had it in my head I had to go to work.  On realising this was just a fantasy, or should I say a nightmare, it got me thinking back to my daily commute to Bradford. How I don’t miss the daily battle with the M62. Never once did I win our contests! So today’s poem is about the trials and tribulations of the daily morning commute routine...which I don’t miss at all!The Daily CommuteThe alarm bell ringsAwoken from a broken sleepI slap it on snoozeAnother nine minutesCounting down the secondsTo the second chimeA little whineOne foot at a timeEventually I’m out of bedSlowly I shuffle to the bathroomShit, shower and shaveA look in the mirrorGod my head does hurtHave I got an ironed shirt?Two socks that match?Now where’s my wallet and watch.Have I time for breakfast?Look at the clockLate again miss my All-BranGet to the car all frozen overWhere did I…

The Ivy

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Tonight we had a lovely meal at The Ivy in Leeds. I had steak, egg and chips. You can take the lad out of Hull... Anyway it was a great night out. The IvyI’m just a lad from HullI know this might sound dullBut in my youth I never thoughtThat I could be be caught In a place like The IvyI thought this were more cor blimeyThan true Yorkshire gritNever thought at the same table I’d sitWith posh folk dressed to impressShouting out about their success But here I am sat with friendsHere in Leeds looking through a different lens Time to reflect on how times have changed That person from Hull has remainedBut in a different place never forgettingNor ever regrettingThe journey that ultimately took meTo a beautiful night at The Ivy.

The Run Was No Fun!

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Yesterday I was shattered from a week of over indulging and getting home from Krakow at 4:00am in the morning. However I felt I needed to get my running back on track. So I decided to go in at the deep end and jog 7 miles. At the 6 mile point I’d had enough. At that point I determined that I needed to get fitter. Probably not a great idea just before the festive season!The Run Was No Fun!!Tonight’s run was no fun!Feet failing to pound the streetAs easily as they did beforeFeeling weak around the coreBreathing heavy and rather irregularTrying to run as fast as I dareBut getting nowhere particularly fastDidn’t think I barely would lastThe route that I had meticulously planned Felt like running on quick sandI know I need to get out moreMore regular running, that’s the scoreSo tonight will be the startI know that deep within my heartIn order to not be a running loserLess trips are needed to the boozer!

Driving Round The Clock

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Our plane from Krakow arrived in Heathrow an hour later than expected. Arriving back at our car at about 11:30 we had the dilemma...stay over at a Travelodge along the way or try and get home. We chose the latter option. I made it all the way to just outside Sheffield when I just couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. So I had a car nap in the service station car park while Lesley played Word With Friends. How many sad people are up at 3:00am playing Scabble online? Anyway we finally managed to get home at 4:00am. I’m writing this a little tired!!Driving Round The Clock!Driving in the dead of nightGripping the wheel so very tightMusic blaring to keep awakeGod I think I need a break
Stopping in the service stationA cold unwelcoming locationFor a pick me up shot of coffeeTo try to reignite my exhausted body 
A loo stop and we’re back in the carSat nav tells me we’ve still to go farA swig of water, some chewing gumA little bit of Wham I have a hum
A few miles later feeling drowsy Cats eyes…

Darling I Think You’re A Tosspot!

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I thought that title would get your interest! Read to the end and you will see my latest poem composed after Lesley, in a alcohol influenced moment, called me a “Tosspot”  This was after I announced that if anyone asked me what I did, I would reply “an illustrative poet!” rather than retired.  Anyway we composed this poem after a few beers! 
Before that here are some of the highlights of our great trip to Krakow. Walk along the River Vistula. 

The Christmas Market in the Main Square. The horse and carriages in the Main Square. 

Schindler’s Factory museum. Atmospheric bars. 
Mocak Modern Art Gallery. 
Gallery of Steel Figures. 
The Jewish Quarter. 
The unique restaurant Once Upon a Time in the Jewish Quarter. Wawel Castle. 
...and now to today’s poem:Darling I Think You’re A Tosspot!Darling I think you’re a tosspot!.....sometimes!To be fair I’d rather be a sex pot!But chances of that are minimalQuite frankly my prospects are dismal!Belly growing rather fat...totally abysmal! I’d like to regain…