The Retired Bloke

This weekend we have had a wonderful time in Margate. Whilst we were there we dropped into The Turner Contemporary to be part of the audience for The Landing Place poetry event. There were some talented poets performing. The theme was the seaside to coincide with the photographic exhibition at the gallery. It inspired me to write a new poem about being at the coast.  Breathe And now breathe Relax inhale Exhale Fill the lungs With pure Life giving oxygen Luxuriate in the ocean White washed waves Bathing the beach The golden border Between chaos and peace Loose yourself In dreams of the sea Purify the soul  Discard the detritus Of 21st Century living Distil virtuous from vicious  Dig deep seek an ataraxis  Breathe  Inhale Let yourself be free Escape On this the edge  Of heaven Where sand meets the sea. 

This morning I was thinking about what is the difference between someone who is sane and someone who is a little mad. It got me thinking that if you can break through the facade that we all put up when in public, I think more of us would accept that we have one or two “mad” tendencies.  Now I don’t mean axe murderer type tendencies but just some idiosyncrasies that set us apart from being “normal” whatever that is? ARE WE ALL MAD? Are we all mad Just a little Just a teeny weeny bit All set, just off the middle Just south of being normal If being normal is a thing There’s an idiosyncrasy Inside most of us It’s what makes us different Different from those who Are described as sane Or is sane the same As being boring Being vanilla Like a magnolia covered blank bare wall Like someone who knows it all Or thinks they have it all But are they hiding Their little bit of insanity Are they craving to be Different like the rest of us Deliciously delirious Desperately dis

As we get older we can all choose how we live. There are many choices...some easier than others. No two people are the same and therefore what’s right for one won’t be right for others. My poem today explores some of the choices we make.  CHOICES As the years pass There are choices To be made To grow old gracefully Or grow old disgracefully To live an active life Or live a sedentary life To occasionally go for a run Or permanently sit on the bum To be tee total Or to drown in alcohol To visit distant places Or stay with familiar faces To have a balanced diet Or indulge in a daily fry up To save for a rainy day Or spend up before pay day To be in a crowd feel all at home Or to be isolated all alone To engage in face to face communication Or to totally rely on gadget electrification To live life with one soulmate Or be a fluttering butterfly on a date To be guided by daily challenging goals Or to waft along like long lost souls T

This week in the U.K. it is Mental Health Awareness Week. I have struggled myself over the years with mental health issues. Often these issues were driven by negative voices in my head. It’s easier said than done to try to ignore them. I am at my most effective when I live in the here and now. I cannot change the past and there’s no point worrying about the future. I just have to keep reminding myself of the fact. 

The third in my series of poems summarising today’s news.  And Here’s The News (12th May 2019) A daily dose of caffeine makes you stronger Coffee lovers live two years longer! Rich people prepare to flee Britain With increasing fears of Corbygeddon! The publication of this year’s Rich List Can’t find my name, again, really pissed! There’s winners and losers and a has been He’s no longer a billionaire Sir Philip Green Streaming 1 film eats up energy Same as boiling 60 cups of tea! Like a stuck record it’s time to go for May Husband no longer thinks she should stay! Good news for those tying the knot Today’s newly weds less likely to split! Title decider Liverpool or City Harry happy on nappy duty Lottery winner money laundering Staff misery for ministry not paying Fingerprint technology not good when you’re old The lines fade over the years so we’re told So that’s the end of my news in rhymes From today’s edition of the Sunday Times

This poem was inspired by my laptop crashing and me losing a document I have been working on for over 18 months! Laptop Dancer She’s a little bit qwerty A little bit dirty Flirting with her electric charms Embracing me with virtual arms To let me work, to let me play  She’ll let me turn her on each day Tapping twinkling on her keys Her curser flashing, such a tease Mistakes I’ve always made a few Deleting following a thorough review There’s times I want to escape her Control alt and delete her There’s times I simply can’t compute And inflict on her a total reboot Our memories are never lost Well hopefully fingers crossed Like an elephant she’ll recover New items for me to discover However there’s always the danger  She’ll treat me like a stranger Stop streaming due to a virus Lose my file and cause a crisis Host a bug like an invasive cancer A love hate relationship with a laptop dancer

Here is my latest poetic take on the news....today taken from The Sunday Times And here’s the news... And here’s the news... Williamson’s fighting back After May gave him the sack Parents should be fined for swearing I can’t see that fucking working Radio 4 presenters interrupting  A bit of a stew about deliveroo delivering  Queen now richer, richer than the Queen May luring reluctant labour fuelling the Brexit machine Millions ponder H on Line of Duty Still waiting for the bloody Royal Baby No police cells to lock em up Man City women win the FA Cup Liverpool victory still clinging on More plans to renationalise by Mr Corbyn Brexit stockpiling helped the economy Cabi, door to door selling to make more money Kiefer Sutherland takes his songs on the road Prince Charles now a bloody B&B landlord So that’s the end of my news in rhymes From today’s edition of the Sunday Times.   

Last week we visited Cinque Terre in Italy. It is a beautiful place with 5 picturesque villages. However the tourist train that connects the villages felt like the London Tube at rush hour. Thus the inspiration for today’s ramble!  Mind The Gap “Step back” “Train approaching” “Mind the gap” Platform panic Jostling for position Pushing in Without permission A scrum develops Which envelops All but the mighty giants And those who show defiance With armoured elbows  “Keep clear of the gap” The announcer bellows This does nothing  To calm down the bustling Every man women and child  Fighting for the space They’re denied Second guessing  Where the doors will open A shimmy to the right Another push no word is spoken A foreigner tries to be polite He is ignored as the train rushes in Turbulence takes away the breath A step too far and certain death Squeezing, squealing a little teasing Stopping in the station just Travellers push and some thrust Forward towards the gap they try The doors fi