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I Have Not Locked The Door (Republished)


A prophet without a name
A patriot without a country
Lost in a dying church
Lost in a black prison
Spanish prison
Small yard to walk round and round
Dry throats of guitars
(This is a short poem
For those who have someone to return to)

When you really need to be close to someone
You do not dare go away and admit you have failed
That is why people sometimes spend the night together
And stay together forever
Until even the touch of another’s hand is empty
And you share things individually

Take a last grand look down the fire escape
In case you ever need to run away fast


So … I decided, on reflection, to give a little background to this piece. Picture someone who is trapped in a relationship and is trying to give some advice to a good friend who is about to enter one. This is not written from a personal here-and-now perspective, but is not pure fantasy either. I simply wanted to capture some of the intimate, unspoken feelings from that point and moment in time. View it as a mental movie to enjoy (or otherwise, as desired); expand it to 90 minutes; make a movie; do it well enough and you could be talking Oscars. Selah.


The Next (Goose) Step


The “top” one per cent
Terrified, naturally
Of those they exploit

Their diagnosis?
Organised supervision
i.e.: police state

Badge Of Shame

P & P


Pride and prejudice
I love the book but hate it
Used as a motto

Madly In Love (Repost)


Her life redrawn as a comic strip … sans comedy.
No longer that dynamic duo. Batteries flat.
Bats in the belfry, robbin’ bewildered senses blind.
And … adrift might best describe it. Hooked, blind and snookered.

…..(He is the one?)

Even lying beside her, not truly here, he lies
oceans away, behind cold fronts, lines of icy bars,
biting winds, squalls of temper, hurricanes of contempt.
Comforts herself with poetry and sweet memories

…..(He is the one!)

that turn to nightmares where he’s drowning, calling her name.
Then she is there, reviving him (mouth to mouth, of course).
Waking to find him gone she recaulks her leaky fancies,
sets her sails for yet another day tacking upwind.

…..(He is the one!)

Eschewing havens, but never her hope, she soldiers on,
soiled sails reduced to tatters, she rows from pole to pole,
trawls the seven seas. Her treasure? Nowhere to be seen.
He has unfurled his true colours: the skull and crossbones.

…..(He is the gone.)

Hay To ‘n’ For The Chief


……………………………………………………………………………………………This One’s For Charles

They never arrived
The forty acres and mule
Just the mule it seems

Five Day Song Challenge: Day Three

Audrey Dawn – The Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister suggested I address myself to meeting this challenge. Two difficulties arise: I. as long time readers will know, I have already posted a number of my favourites so they aren’t eligible; 2. I am by necessity limited to tracks which are freely available on line. In retaliation I decided not to further restrain myself to sticking solely to tracks with lyrics.

3. Tim Buckley – I Must Have Been Blind.

The lyrics can be found at I have always heard something a little different from “To live in her life and never trustin'” as written here. What do you think?

In Touch


Where are you?
And what’s
Happening with you?

I see your on-line site has gone now too.
While – lost but not forgotten – I remain
And would appreciate contact.

Communication after all
Is even at its best
A two way street.

While without any
Bearable life disappears.

DADT (1994 – 2011) – A Villanelle

DADT (1994 – 2011)

Welcome to one Private’s unprivate personal hell
Let’s drink a toast in honour of Benny
Shot through the heart by “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”

A spiteful, misbegotten fear cloaked in a pious shell
Let’s drink a toast in honour of Denny
Welcome to one Private’s unprivate personal hell

Discharged to stop them tainting other personnel
Let’s drink a toast in honour of Jenny
Shot through the heart by “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”

There’s no marker on the battlefield where they fell
Let’s drink a toast in honour of Kenny
Welcome to one Private’s unprivate personal hell

Just to speak their love’s name was to rebel
Let’s drink a toast in honour of Lenny
Shot through the heart by “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”

They understood prejudice only too well
Let’s drink a toast in honour of Penny
Welcome to one Private’s unprivate personal hell
Shot through the heart by “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”


“Don’t ask, don’t tell” (DADT)



Some there are who live in touch
With both heart and mind
Others it seems
Less so

The Heart A Lonely Hunter


Cheshire-like you grin
At a self-effacing joke
It’s a hollow laugh

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