Welcome

I hope you enjoy reading from this collection

as much as I enjoyed writing it.

(more poems in 'SAO' my S. America overland adventure on Kindle)

 'No-one but a blockhead ever wrote except for money'

                                                            Samuel  Johnson

OK so I'm a blockhead.

What is a poem?

 If there isn't any rhyme

or at least repeating rhythm,

it's just pretentious shredded prose

and not a proper poem.

If I were thirty years younger

I'd marry you out of hand.

But if I were thirty years younger,

you'd still be in school and

marriage might be frowned on.

A message from The God Father

This is the offer you can't refuse !

No upfront costs; just pay as you go.

You'll need two sponsors that you can't choose

and at the start they'll run the show.

But in due course you'll be the gaffer

though hopefully helped by a loving other

so to new starters you extend the offer  -

some eighty years of life's adventure.

Christmas and the barbarians

I guess the northern hemisphere pagans didn't like

those upstart Christians stealing their winter festival

but, for the gloomy serious newcomers to hike

something to brighten the dark was only sensible.

Now though the barbarians are taking it back

with tantalising orgies of indulgence,

exchanging presents of things we didn't lack

and decorative frippery in abundance.

Commerce doesn't bother about complaints

totally intent on finishing the heist

by Mammon's latest pantheon of saints

where Father Christmas outranks Jesus Christ.

Love is a new invention; sex is old.

Missionary position was a bold

un-natural perversion which controlled

grosser imagination and extolled

face to face coition as a mould

for mutual passion both to enfold.