it's not just...

It's not just the strength of the brick 
more the team-work between the bricks and the mortar.

It's not just a coastline.
It's the end of the land
and the start of the water 
it's rugged
stunning
and it's dangerous - it's the seas edge.

It's not just a leaf - an annoying thing that sticks to your shoe in the damp Autumn mornings
that you walk into the house 
and that collects in piles that you have to sweep up.
It's a food 
food for trees and plants 
it produces oxygen for us to breathe
it absorbs the carbon dioxide we create
it absorbs water from the soil around the tree
and it is beautiful.

It's not just area of grass.
It is a space 
lovingly prepared 
for two teams to do battle on
for hopes and aspirations
for dreams to be made - or crushed.

It's not just a slug under your foot 
It's a key part of the eco-system
a composter
breaking down plant waste and recycling it for good.

It's not only girls that skip
more  
that boys feel the urge to skip - but they surpress it
incase their mates see them doing it
and call them 'gay'
It's not going to make a boy 'gay' if he skips - but maybe they think so.

It's not just a word - 'Dad'.
It's a title
earnt 
through late night nappy changes
walking them to school
being there
teaching them right from wrong - it's an example
a role. 

It's not just dough 
cheese and tomato paste
ham and onions 
and mushrooms if you like.
It's a Friday night treat
a celebration of a week's work done
it's bringing a family together
It's important.

It's not just day after day after day.
It's a life to do good
to teach your children well
to leave this place in a better shape than when you arrived
to love and be loved
to pass on memories
to make people glad they knew you
and that they had you in their lives.

Isn't it?



 

Hate Love Hate

I hate all this weather we're having
I love a shot on goal
I hate the way stars lap upon a deserted beach
I love it when a train passes
I hate it when people paint shop doorways
I love blue socks
I hate the way people spin this planet 
I love ploughing my beard
I hate the way hills go up steeply
I love the rustling of plastic bags
I hate the colour of trees in winter
I love the sound of frozen breath 
I hate wind-turbines on hill tops
I love broken smiles
I hate the rigidity of grass
I love the silence of wind
I hate the tick of a clock
I love the tock 
I hate it when fish block the escalator on the underground when carry too much shopping in a pink balloon 
Trifle
Suitcase 
Football...
I love sound of a fresh mown lawn
I love writing nonsense poems 
but white is the wrong colour


Who Will We Be

Who will we be
in the future - and 
what 
what will we be
if we are lucky enough
to have a future
before the hand of time 
sweeps
and the wind comes knocking
at the letterbox 
and blows our ashes away
who will we be
will we be just 
old people - are we not 
old people now
will we even be together 
will our dreams have come to be
for we have dreams
but
will they come to be
what will time turn us into
or
do to us
and
how will it shape us
will life have changed us so we don't resemble 
anything 
that we are now - nor ever wanted
disease 
illness
what will be 
will be
but will your hand be there to hold
in the dark days
will your hand be there to hold
like we did that first time
when I reach out for you
will you be there
will I still be there for you
either way
that our paths crossed that day
and our hearts entwined
and that we set out
together 
is enough

Wet Skies in the Hallway

Wet grey skies empty beer-gardens and high streets - filling garden centre cafes
forecasts predict ruined weekend plans
unfinished Saturday morning gardening promises 
unlikely sporting afternoon aspirations 
through the open patio door as if...
as if summer still shone
warm and bright - but not so
as raindrops hit the unused...
unusable 
patio surface; hard
raindrops drown in water-logged 
unmown lawns
the colour of Autumn changing leaves
fallen 
lay - another job undone
amidst Sunday evenings anxiety
sit and watch Sundays 
hour-hand 
sweep you into another working Monday morning
as another list of good intentions lay dying in front of your eyes
another weekend 
laying dead at your feet
to the tick...
tock... 
tick...
of the grandfather clock
standing in the hallway


Data

Data
That digital stuff.
The "ones and noughts" stuff.
Data - that stuff that's always in the wrong place
Data is the stuff that always needs moving to somewhere else
That stuff on your phone
if it's on your phone 
you want it in the cloud
if it's on the cloud
you want it on your phone!

Facebook
YouTube
X
Instagram...
Uploading
Downloading
Transferring 
Sharing 
Collecting
Collating
Analysing - that data!

The human race isn't going to be wiped out by pestulance and flood
no!
we are going to be wiped out by the amount of data we are generating
It is said that the amount of data there is in the world now is one "Zettabyte"
A word I've never heard of
so I Googled it!

"The Zettabyte" - a unit of information equal to one sextillion (1021) or... 270 bytes.

Nowadays it's a case of how many terrabytes would you like?
There are Terrabyte USB pens
Terrabyte Micro SD cards the size of your fingernail
...forget your Terrabyte
this thing makes a Terrabyte 
look like an empty crisp packet!

So why all this space?
I blame social media!
It's all photos and videos
Who hasn't got 50 or 60 gigs of photos and videos on their mobile!
I have!
We have to photograph everything then send it to 500 of our so-called "friends"
All that data!
All that data we are sending round the planet
All that data having to be stored somewhere
being uploaded
being downloaded 
All that data being transferred 

YouTube has an "Exabyte" of data on it!
There you go - another word no-ones heard of!
It's a million terrabytes!

1 million terrabytes of 
how to mend a...
how to correct a faulty...
why is my...
what is this symbol on my...

and don't forget the...
"this is what I had for my tea!

Data.
It's going to be the death of us!





Condom On A Banana - The Teenage Years

The teenage years - they're a challenge aren't they!
They're supposed to be the time when the process of maturing - physically
mentally 
and emotionally 
...occur
but until your teenage years 
the biggest challenge of life was 
"what was for tea 
and what was on the telly"
...and nothing else matters!

Then you hit the teenage years and suddenly
your brain seems to have been taken out 
secretly over night
and washed in the washing machine 
on a long 
and hot cycle
then put back - but not properly 
and now nothing seems to be working like it used to
and you are suddenly overcome by the need to argue with everyone 
or disagree with everyone strongly
and stomp off
or try new things out
like 
pushing the limits of your parents patience
or being pleasant 
or veganism
you don't want to eat the crap your parents stick in front of you...
anyway 
what the hell do they know
they've never been a teenagers!
so you try smoking
alcohol
maybe vaping - well everyone else is
and then if all that isn't enough
your body throws a fit
and starts to change in weird ways
and you need to take stock 
and get a handle on all these things
you need to understand the changes that your body is going through
and why 
looking in a mirror is a traumatic event
for...
 just why has your face exploded
with grease and puss and hair
and now looks like a war zone
and quite why there is just enough stubble to look terrible
but not enough to properly call it a beard
and so to look cool
and anyway
when you try to shave off this "bum-fluff
you take out the heads of a hundred zits
which have turned up
uninvited 
all over your face
and you loose half your blood 
and it hurts like hell when you splash on that aftershave 
the one from the ad you saw on Instagram 
which said would make you irresistible to those you desire - but you couldn't understand how 
or why
and so 
just when you've noticed the opposite sex
or the same sex - you're not fully sure which one really 
does it for you
whatever it is
and so when you finally feel something for someone 
you get:
"OMG - why is my penis doing that!?"
you don't know what
but you do know 
you think these other people seem very... interesting
but you don't know why
but you do know about sex
because the teacher slid a condom onto a banana in class
saying this is how to prevent having a baby
and you do consider yourself an expert on that
but you just want to...
well...
"slip a condom onto a banana" with somebody
and you know you need to look your best if you are going to find someone - anyone!
and when you're not able to
and you're told by your mates - well at least they say they have...
"done it"
and you haven't
you think must be a freak
and have something wrong with you
is the splash-on deodorant not working?
Am I putting enough on?
So you go to school smelling like the perfume counter at "Boots"
and you get into trouble
because your mates rip the hell out of you
mostly the ones who said that they'd - ya know...
"done it"

...and with all this going on 
you haven't noticed...
that...
time is passing...
and that you're growing into this "new future"
and that those random clumps of hair
seem to be forming themselves
into a more cohesive 
beard like structure
and you've worked out that the "tossers" who say they have... "done it" 
...haven't 
and anyway you know that no banana is required
and they probably think 
one is required
and you know that they aren't required 
not in your life anyway 
and that you're happier without them
and you are now happy looking in the mirror 
because it's not a war zone
and that you have had chats with girls
and you thought that they are... alright...
especially that one girl
in your class at college
who's always in the college cafe at lunch time
who looks really nice
who you might buy a coffee for
and...
well maybe ask her out...
maybe
and...
who knows...

maybe...
we might slip a condom on a banana together!