Recycling words

You think I steal your words
And it’s true
I suck them from your mouth
As you sleep
Then hang them to dry
In my mind
As the letters drip
Into form
Emerging as stanzas
Hiding in haikus
Suffering in sonnets
I keep your words close
Feeding them until they are fat
and ready
To pop on my tongue
And spill over
Onto clean pages
Ravenous for attention
From eyes
For ears
Craving mouths
Where words as sweet as yours
Can live and breathe
Once again

The stakes are getting high..

“I see your grin and raise you a giggle ”

It always starts out this way
Just a bit of a giggle
A bit of a laugh
Then high spirits kick in
And the party gets out of hand
Everything is fine
Until someone gets hurt

“Who left the box on the stairs, anyway?”

Thanks for the inspiration today Jane 🙂

Check out her blog here – Moonworld

Her Monopoly on Luck

She will sashay around the houses
Glide over Park Lane and Mayfair
Yet grumble about her time spent
On Old Kent Road
Where she had to talk
To a man, that was a dog
Trying to chase a top hat
in the wind

If she finds herself
behind bars
Flush with cash
She will still roll the die
And grumble at the double
Thrown on the third try
Instead of the first
She’s so unlucky

When she takes a chance
on life, on the game
She gets a trip to Pall Mall
That’s declared a waste
She never had to pass go
Never mind the opportunity
to buy, arose from this
The deed quietly tucked away

She catches a train
Two in fact
Yet complains
About sharing the connection

Pouts at not winning
The beauty competition
The grey note scrunched
In her hand
As the banker glares

It’s not fair
When she gets hit for street repairs
Those ten hotels make a dent
If only she had none
Like the iron
So unjust

Life was just not fair
To a girl like her

Modern Day Surrender

How frustrating it is.
After resisting such taunts
A whole day without you,
filling my thoughts.

Twenty four hours,
Without you inside me.
My mind in a scramble
it’s you, undeniably.

I banish your words,
Try clearly to think.
Yet the impact of you
Drives me to the brink.

As your name flashes up,
Right there in the list.
Try as I might
I just can’t resist.

Impulse takes over,
my resolve so weak.
You win and I lose.
So much for mystique

The text disappears
My pride has been thrown
Oh why did I ever,
Pick up that dam phone!

Mutations of Love

In childhood, it was sweet and pure
Daisy chains with my amore
Early teens, awkward and shy
A fluttering heart as love walks by
At eighteen passion tied with pain
Each heated death bled tears in vain
Obsession, lust, a heart at war
The complex love at twenty four
A few years on and still confused
Doused in fire, scorned and bruised
At thirty, flecked and fortified
A leap of faith and mortified
By thirty five, footsteps demure
Walls in place, encased secure
At forty lives a gentle hum
Sparks of joy, open to some
Fifties hopping, showing cracks
Unstable thoughts revealing facts
At sixty comfortable and slow
Set in stone, nowhere to go
A simple smile in seventies
Glancing, dancing, pleasantries
This changing tide, this vast cruel sea
Does love mutate, or is it me?

A gap in the market

Alone he sits, upon his bed

His weapon in his hand

Thinking about the things they said

And how to be a brand

Armed with his phone and snapchat app

His boxers pressed and tight

He found a niche to fill the gap

His solo pillow fight.

Just an average man

The numbers speak for themselves

5ft 10 – Lets try again

That universal average

13 stone – oh leave it alone

A list of aspiration,

Size 9 -Still feeling fine?

Conformations of disappointment

5.1 – But where is that done?


All these numbers are to me

Are restrictions on us being free

What is an average if not dull

These lists and stats are due a cull


Though 4.7 makes me grin

Because you think that’s rather thin