Regret?


regret-words

I’m sitting in the pub corner,
Comfy in my favourite seat.
Raising my glass half-heartedly,
To all the friends I used to meet.

I’m drinking to your memory,
I’m drinking to regret.
I’m drinking to your health,
I’m drinking to forget.

I wonder if you’re close now?
In a room across the road.
Or are your living far away,
On the other side of the globe.

I could see if you are on Facebook,
I could send you a tweet.
Maybe if I looked hard I might
Spot your face in the street.

But no I stay in the pub corner,
Happily nursing my beer.
And if I think I see you passing,
I’ll not raise my glass in cheers.

You see I’ve found I don’t miss you,
I really don’t give a toss.
That we’re no longer friends,
It’s my gain and your loss.

So please keep your distance,
Stay away, stay in my past.
Cos I’ll stop thinking about you,
When I reach the bottom of my glass.

 

Taken from Diverse Verse a poetry anthology I compiled and being sold to raise money for charity.

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Daydreaming


Daydreaming

I’m standing outside the office smoking
Watching the world rush around.
My feet tapping on the pavement
While my head wanders in the clouds.

 

Ahh it’s a sure we’re having better weather than yesterday as I can feel my optimism returning

Bloody Weather


bloody weather

Bloody snowy weather go away
Don’t you know it’s nearly May?
I want to shelve my winter clothes,
Plus turn off the heating in my home.
I’m so fed up with being cold,
Bloody weather do what your told.

A DIFFICULT CONVERSATION


Check out this great new poetry blog from a talented friend of mine

Marianne Burgess Poetry Blog

‘Hello Dad it’s only me

How are you today?’

‘Who’s this?

Can’t hear you very well…

Hello?….What did you say?’

‘It’s ME! It is your DAUGHTER –

I promised you a call!’

‘Your WHAT?

A news reporter?

I don’t know anything at all!’

(GIVE ME STRENGTH)

‘Dad it’s O-N-L-Y   M-E,

I thought ‘d say H-E-L-L-O!’

‘Eh? Who is this calling?

I can’t hear – I’ve got to go!’

‘NO WONDER YOU CAN’T HEAR ME –

THE TV’S BLARING OUT!’

‘…..I’ve got my telly on –

I’m afraid you’ll have to shout!’

‘…..WEAR YOUR  BLOODY HEARING AID;

IT’S NOT ROCKET SCIENCE IS IT?!’

‘If that’s you my darling daughter –

I can’t hear…

You’ll have to visit!’

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The Dirty Dozen, featuring Dr Meg Sorick


Had your Sunday Lunch? Then why not settle down with a cup of tea and enjoy another interview from Al.

A Certain Point of View

Welcome to the third edition of The Dirty Dozen!

This week, I’m incredibly privileged to be hosting Dr Meg Sorick in the Dirty Dozen “hotseat”.

Meg is the author of the Bucks County series of novels, and is a committed, engaged, and engaging blogger who can turn her hand to a range of writing styles (I particularly love her limericks, but check out her short stories too).

Read this insightful and revealing interview HERE!

The Dirty Dozen

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My Darkish Desire


question mark

Everyday I wake with the taste of you on my tongue
Which fuels my need to see you again.
As I rise I find
My resolve crumbles.
While my brain concocts feeble excuses
To cross your path today.

When we do meet
I’m happy to see you’re ready.
You knew I would come.
Money changes hands, but our eyes don’t meet.
I mumble my name, though you know it,
So never reply.

Your scent teases me
Helping me to wait, as I do everyday.
I long to hold you.
To feel your warmth
Radiate through my hands.
Before our lips lock.

I sense you’re ready.
I raise my eyes.
My heart skips
As my pulse accelerates.
Then I hear the words that make my day,
“Large mocha with sprinkles for Richard.”

 

Obsessive Compulsive Poetry


OCP ME

I’m writing this poem,
While on the bus.
Disturbing commuters,
Creating a fuss.

I’m writing this poem,
While sitting at work.
Ignoring my in-tray,
Its contents I shirk.

I’m writing this poem,
Perched on the throne.
Using loo paper,
If I run out of my own.

I’m writing this poem,
Even while asleep.
I dream more verses,
On to pillows and sheets.

I’ve been writing this poem,
All of my life.
Everyone has left me,
Including my wife.

I’m still writing this poem,
Just ignore the knocking.
I can’t stop now,
Even in my coffin.

 

I had the pleasure of reading this poem from my book last Sunday at the Hollybush pub’s art festival. The picture is from that event, the alteration all my own.

The Dirty Dozen, featuring D. Wallace Peach


Another great interview from Al

A Certain Point of View

Welcome to the second episode in a new author interview series, the Dirty Dozen!

This week, I’m incredibly privileged to be hosting D. Wallace Peach in the Dirty Dozen “hotseat”. Diana is the author of numerous fantasy books, both traditionally published and latterly self-published, and is also a friendly and supportive voice in the blogging world.

To continue reading, please follow this LINK !

The Dirty Dozen

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The Walsall Poetry Society’s charity anthology “Diverse Verse” is now available


Diverse Verse

Today the Walsall Poetry Society is pleased to announce that its charity anthology of poems from the West Midlands and beyond is available to buy.

Featuring over 100 pages of poetry from a variety of talented poets the book can be yours by following the link below.

CLICK HERE TO BUY THE BOOK

Part of the money made from the sale of this book will benefit a local charity, details of the recipient to be announced soon.

Please feel free to reblog this post or if you came across this announcement via Facebook a like and share are much appreciated.

Pub Cat


Albert Colpitts

Pub cat
Arches back.
Looking sleek
Furry cheek.
Tail flicking
Lip licking.
Ears alert
Mouth purrs.
Feline plea
Fuss me.

 

Dedicated to Albert Colpitts

Photo courtesy of Albert Colpitt’s Facebook page.