Twelve quid it cost
only for it to grow back! - I'm not falling for that trick again!
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 placeData 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!
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