Smoking ban

People used to start smoking

when they were young, to look older

and when they were older, to pass the time.

Neither reason is needed now

with all our smart phones always on-line.

Tweets 18

Not voyeur but auditeur -

embarrassing noises heard from on high -

the moans and groans from the planes in the sky.

She always turns her nose up at me

but I wish she would turn her toes up at me.

The struggle for freedom is not between

capitalism and communism

but dictators and democracy

with reasons enough for pessimism.

"may I feel ?" said he (apologies to e e cummings)

She who lets me

fuck her gets me

The recent week's warm weather seems

to have hatched the eggs of house and fruit fly.

So one part of Nature deceived another

for the coming cold weather will soon make them die.

Weather  Warning !

Winter is coming - the Great Britain depression.

I didn't, couldn't choose

when to be born

but I shouldn't be unable to choose

when to die..

Two young women at a weekend disco

together but different as chalk and cheese;

both mesmerising in their own ways

and always a sight to please.

One nubile, dancing on her own,

her rhythmic swaying sexually flaunted;

the other immobile, always seated

and somehow seemingly haunted.

Despite repeated appearances

unlikely friends an observer thinks -

mythology personified

as modern day siren and sphinx.

'Lovely Day' by Bill Withers

"  . . . then I look at you . . ."

As the feeling starts to die back

in the autumn of youth,

new shoots spring up to flower

as children in proof

that " . . what will survive of us is love . . . "

                                Philip Larkin

Spring morning levels

Daytime comets, sunlit tails,

needling fabric, blue sky trails,

stratospheric isolation,

intent on destination.

Lazy buzzard floating high,

wavily circling, stirring sky,

bent on observation.

Above the tulips, passing by,

idling, zipping hoverfly.

The Flower Club

One rainy day with nothing to do

I decided I would brave the walk

to the village hall, where there wasn't a queue,

for the local Flower Club's 'Roses' talk.

 I entered the hall as the lights were dimming

and realised that I was out of place :

the seats all seemed filled by aging women

and I felt embarrassed to show my face.

So, as one man among fifty matrons,

I asked the 'official' at the door

if it really was only for female patrons.

She said she wasn't entirely sure

but, as you can see, it's totally girls.

Though your clothes are those of a gentleman,

with such long hair and dangling curls

you'll pass quite well as a lesbian.

Passers by

They've often passed my house over the years

walking together, the man and the woman.

Both middle aged, she unexceptional

but he is small and somehow crooked

like a broken twig beneath his always hat.

I've often wondered about their relationship.

Somehow husband and wife seems unlikely

because of his unattractive disablement.

I tend to think of them brother and sister

with her looking after him. Courageous.

I would like to ask them about their connection

but feel it would be intrusive, unwelcome.

Lately they're no longer side by side

but him a few yards trailing behind.

I sense their attachment might be failing.

Sad. Nothing I can do. None of my business.