You have asked me to follow The Roads of Mercy I am not sure if I can do this As I lack any sense of direction I will therefore have to be my own guide

I can feel you near me I can feel you in my life You have always been there I have been so blind Please forgive me

I have that my poetry With not contain words But only the colours Violet Blue and Purple I will write about many of you I will be kind and unkind My ink with be sour and acidic Or smooth velvet when I choose This is my final poem

We just wanted to be left alone Painting this and that and each other But our works were spotted And we were exhibited Out former existence had vanished In a matter of months Our cottage was now a holiday let We were celebrities Reluctant celebrities So we purchased our cottage And burnt our clothes And […]

I fuck artists No matter who They are Just give me a call Any hole I am not choosy Men need not apply What are you doing Masie Designing a poster For our church fair Come back to bed In a minute Julia It is wet outside A summer storm It is even wetter in […]

I discovered you by accident On a humid dry beach Clinging to a dusty pebble You were perfect in every way A small silver fish Late of the shallow sea

I am giving up poetry I have nothing else to say It is all lies nothing but lies The piano is now my friend There are no more words My talent is exhausted Only my music awaits me

I was a young cyclist once The roads were quieter then And cycling was a pleasure Country Lanes Dry Stone Walls Hidden Farms Primroses in the Spring I used to cycle with Regina Who was my Finnish girlfriend She is now my Finnish wife We tend to prefer walking these days And both own black […]

How many pilgrims were they Twenty-Nine Each had a story to tell They travelled from the Tabard Inn in London To Becket’s shrine in Canterbury Is this your first visit No Sir It is my third Have you read The Canterbury Tales No Sir but I am planning to read them Chaucer fascinates me I […]

In silent cities No church bells Will be rung People will sit On flooded benches And consider That nothing Is better Than nothing and that Nothing Is better Than nothing At all (Martin Eden)