All Saints' Church, Earls Barton, Northamptonshire │ Wiki

La la la la la.
It’s original to shunt
The la las up front.

You might not like this
But you can’t not like dislike
Of short duration

A short poem a day
Keeps the temptation to write
Longer poems at bay.

A haiku is ars
Brevis that aspires, like you,
To vita longa.

No need to be koi.
Carpe diem, no matter
What your element

Carpe diem: Glasgow Botanical Gardens, September 2015

Mini-minor good,
Better than any make of
Maxi-major bad.

The Guardian: "The new Morris Mini-Minor: a family car for £500 - archive, 1959"

Only one way in,
One out. Amazinoutly


A traffic cone sits
On the head of our hero.
Glasgow smiles better.

The Guardian, 12 November 2013: "Glasgow council kills plan to prevent traffic cones on monument's head." Photograph: Garry F McHarg FOCAL Scotland.

Dropped capitals: chic

In monastic manuscripts.

Not always elsewhere.

Two of Coventry's famous three spires, seen from my house, 2016

Coventry’s three spires
Were seen from all sides. Alas!
All seeing has expired.

No spires seen from my house, 2020.

(19th April)

It’s Gini’s birthday
Today. Time to celebrate
A genuine ginius.


Allotments are more
Than war on weeds: peace and love,
And lovage and peas.

"The secret world beneath our feet is mind-blowing – and the key to our planet’s future." George Monbiot, the Guardian, 7 May 2022

In the beginning
Was the wordle, but wordle
Couldn’t be the word.

Did it just happen
For the laughs: half of the world
Ruled by psychopaths?

Porridge is poetry
With whiskey butter. The proof
Is in the porridge.

Overnight steel-cut oats with whiskey butter

It’s not just walking
The walk, it’s talking poets’ talk
On the poetry walk.

Poetry Walk

GHOST TRAIN, Birmingham New Street Station, October 2017

At New Street last night
I saw the ghost pass me by
Of the late last train.

If you’re nice, the train
At Platform 5 will take you
Straight to Paradise.

See Naples and die
Or see Little Eccleston-
With-Larbreck and live.

Cartford Bridge

It’s not rocket science
But it is the new normal,
I.e., it’s a cliché.

Escherlators are
Escalators that only
Seemingly escalate.

M C Escher, "Ascending and Descending," March 1960, lithograph.

Yellow, blue and red,
Thence orange, green and purple.
Black and white? Not quite.

Piet Mondrian disliked green,
But whether that was mutual
Remains to be seen.

Broadway Boogie Woogie, 1942-43,Oil on Canvas, cm. 127 x 127 (50" x 50"), MoMA, NYC, USA

The Christian Alt-Right
Is the religion that’s right
For oxymorons.

The Guardian, January 2022: "The backlash against rightwing evangelicals is reshaping American politics and faith"

Alas, Alaska!
Que será, à la Palin,
Means baked Alaska.

BBC, Good Food

Seventy-six and
Never been in a mosh pit.
Should I regret it?

(9 May 2022)

A prayer for Putin’s
May parade: May it rain, may
It rain, may it rain.


Brexit means Brexit,
But I resign, for Boris,
Really means Remain.

Guardian articles about Boris Johnson

Why don’t ministers
Who want to shrink the state

From piano-forte
To pianissimo, impro
Has it all to play.

Your Royal Highnesses
And every aristocrat, pray
Be off and don’t come back!

A republic means
A country that does without
Crowned unachievements.

The Guardian, 25 November 2018: "Are honorifics a matter of class, clarity or culture? The verdicts are in"
The rich and powerful
Like it when we bow and scrape.
Brainwashed, we do too.

Turkeys, vote en masse
For Benjamin Zephaniah!
Don’t vote for Christmas.

Humanity and
Humaneness: hopelessfully

Hey Joe, where you going
As eponymous hero
Of that hateful song?

One can never be
Too clever, except when one’s
Too clever by half.

Initial ID
Isn’t the real entity
Of identity.

Be true to yourself.
That is, if you remember
Which self is your self.

Whether you travel
Near or far, it’s not easy
To arrive at who you are.

Cleverness is nice
But it’s not clever to be
Clever but not nice.


Paul McCartney, 80,
Glastonbury. Still rocking that
Long and winding roll.

If you have a look
At Led by Donkeys, you’ll see
We’re led by donkeys.

Rejoice and be glad!
For this poem is both short and

At seminary
I learnt being good is better
Than bothering God.

The dead don’t come back.
The living don’t want to leave.
Brexit’s total crap.

Paz em três linguas.
Síocháin i dtrí theanga. Mír
Ve třech jazycích.

Would you have others
Do unto you, sisters, brothers,
As you do unto them?

Plus imperfectionism
Makes humanism.

I wandered lonely
As a cloud that floats on high
Over No Entry signs.

The Guardian, 18 April 2019: "So 1% of the people own half of England. Inheritance tax reform could fix that." Photograph: Owen Humphreys/PA

Half of England owned
By one percent is serfdom
In a change of clothes.

The Guardian, 17 April 2019: "Half of England is owned by less than 1% of the population." Photograph: Dan Kitwood/Getty Images

Sod the effing bastards!
(Unpoetic language is fine
If kept to one line.)

Does, mirror, mirror,
On the wall, Mandela Effect
Affect you at all?

Imitation is
The sincerest flattery.
Theft the insincerest.

Indefinite a
And most definitely the
Shouldn’t end like that.

Please bring some apples
Up the pears, if you’re coming down
The pears and apples.
Being invisible
Shouldn’t mean you can’t be heard,
Just you can’t be

As mighty oak trees grow
From little acorns, just so
Plant little poet trees.

A part of our world,
Our galaxy and universe.
Unique. You and me.

Just be the best you are,
Dear friend, not the worst you’re not,
And let the rest rest.

Says Mr Putin,
Don’t be good. If I could be
More evil, I would.

As if people don’t
Have plenty problems without
Problems like Putin.

Seven, eight, nine, ten,
Eleven. Evil bastards
Don’t go to heaven.


Tories are revolt
Ing. Boris Johnson’s revolt
Ing. Let’s all revolt!

Political poems
Can be too polemical.
Peace is poetical.

 Steve Bray Activist Against Brexit + Corrupt Tories

Poems won’t stop a war.
Perhaps that’s not what they’re for.
Here’s a curse instead:

Does it not offend
Common sense, not amending
A mad amendment?
The Taliban ban
Women from doing what men can.
Ban the Taliban!
Even the erudite
Can confuse what’s eruright
With what’s eruwrong.
Live in the mo… Woops!
Live… Woops! Or just keep living
In the past… Perfect!

Précis: precisely
Saying what was said, but less
Not more. Precisely!

Is thought inferior
To not thinking? That’s something
One might think about.

Money makes the world
Go round, whereupon the rich
Round it up, not down.

Yeats keeps arising
And going, going but never gone
Along to Innisfree.

If there hadn’t been
The Angles, we anglophones could play
At being saxophones.

Woke up this morning,
Got them city blues. Last night,
Two nil united.

It seems unlikely
The extremely unctious would be in need
Of extreme unction.

Veritas vincit.
Vincit veritas. Looked at
Front or back, truth wins.

Charity may be
The best of the three, but hope
Is the last to leave.

(June, 2022)

Into Capitol attack
Tells us truth trumps Trump.

CNN, 13 June 2022: "Jan. 6 committee holds second hearing." Photo: Mandel Ngan/AFP/Getty Images

Nudging native tongues
To linguacide is soft and
Silent genocide.

The Guardian, 4 February 2010: "Ancient tribal language becomes extinct as last speaker dies."

The Land of the Free:
A euphemia where people
Get shot frequently.

Architecture & Design: "50+ Brilliant Tombstones By People Whose Sense Of Humor Will Live Forever"

RIP but, I

Willard power puts camels through
The eye of a needle.

Owning a joke shop
Is no laughing matter: it’s
The way they sell them.

If there is a god,
You’d hope that he or she would be
Holy pronoun-free.
Little Bo Peep’s sheep!
Lost!… Leave them alone! Wagging,
Tails have happy endings.

Hey diddle diddle,
Cat cow little dog fiddle.
Dish spoon skedaddle.

Miss Muffet. Tuffet,
Curds, whey. Spider beside her!
Muffet sped away.
Little Jack Horner,
Corner, Christmas pie, thumb, plum,
Self-praise. Rum-ti-tum.

Humpty Dumpty. Wall.
Fall! King’s cavalry. First aid.
Alas! Too ovulate.

Old lady swallowed
Fly spider bird cat dog goat
Cow horse. Dead? Of course.

Grand Old Duke of York.
Ten thousand men. Up. Down. Up
Up. Down down… Dope.

Down the woods today?
Surprise! There’s a picnic there
For teddy bears. Yay!

Go n-éirí an bóthar
Leat, is go mbeadh do shaol lán
Le áthas agus craic.

May the road rise up
To meet you, and your life be full
Of Hibernian fun.

Artworks by me: GO N-ÉIRÍ AN BÓTHAR LEAT │ 2021 │ 61 cm diameter │Acrylics

A lesser grievance
Of old age, good grief! is pips
Stuck between your teeth.

After poetry, there’s
Doggerel, caterwaul and –
Begad! – bugger all.

Live life like a poem.
No matter how hard at times,
Try to make it rhyme.

Heart failure is bad
But still not half so bad as
Failure of the soul.

I’m dead, I think, though
According to R Descartes,
Erm, therefore I aren’t.

Widewalls, 4 August 2019: "Breaking Down the Concept Behind Damien Hirst's Shark." Image: Damien Hirst - The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living, 1990.

Unpublished alive,
Perhaps I’ll get published when
I’m on the other side.
Alive but dying. Dead
But not quite. Trying to buy time
To rhyme the last bend.

John Martin, "The Great Day of His Wrath." Tate

Will lyric poets still
be writing lyric poetry
at the apocalypse?

Going down fast. Tell me,
Tell me, please tell me the answer!
Coz this time’s the last.

Spring summer autumn
Winter. Birth adolescence
Adulthood death. Spring

Et in saecula
Saeculorum orum or
Um orum. Amen.

Horror without end
Is even worse than an end
With horror. The End.

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