Yo Joseph (in Spanish)

"Joseph, this is the last time I'm going to say this to you. You need to pull yourself together. WE need you to pull yourself together. To GETHer Joseph, do you understand? This can't go on. It's ridiculous. You'll destroy your future. You've already alienated your family and friends and at the rate you're going you'll be homeless in a year. What are you going to do? How are you going to fix this? Do you have no respect for yourself? You're dirty and you sleep anywhere and eat junk. It's very upsetting for us. You didn't used to be like this Joseph..."

"I'm not Joseph".

You Who?

Was your opinion ever sought?
Were you ever asked what do you need?
Did anyone ever believe that you may
Have your own requirements to feed?
Thoughts and decisions, plans for your life
They’re necessary to be
And once allowed to freely flow
Will set your spirit free.
For free is how you came into this world
Unencumbered with feelings of doubt
The decision to cry and announce what you need
Was the first time you let it out.
Hush little baby don’t say a word
Is subtle in the extreme
Instead of speak up and announce yourself
Lie low and follow my dream.
You can only be what you truly are
It’s not to do with others
By being your real essential self
You inspire your sisters and brothers.
But to your soul you must truly be
To not is just a game
For what you learned to make it through
Is for nobody else to blame.
We all inherit eachother’s traits
Unconsciously it’s true
The biggest job you have in life
Is to re-discover you.

Bus Driver

Granted the glamour is lacking severely
The wheels go round like the rhyme
For parents whose small ones are learning it early
From rhyme to career is mine.
A cowboy, a spaceman, footballer or wrestler
A doctor, an actor, a boss
Pick one was the choice laid out on a platter
Nothing from the column marked loss.
Reality calls for payment and owing
Dreams sit deferring to such
You can’t make a living from never growing
How hard did you try?
Not much.
You can do whatever you want
Words not bandied about in my youth
Instead be real and think of the future
Stars are for others to shoot.
Your path is in safety, predictable metre
No risk or chance taking is needed
Like an infant who listens and follows the leader
The words – blindly heeded.
Result of which you see before you
As you board for your destination
The man with the cap and jacket both matching
The brand of mass resignation.
No trip to the moon, no goal scored at Wembley
No life saving feats to perform
Instead exact change and why don’t you tell me
What dreams of yours are yet born.


My friend was part of a terrorist group
He tried to recruit me one day.
The fact that we were nine years old
Didn't mean it was just for play.

He Did?

Raymond resplendent
Stood erect in the room
All eyes to attention
Regarding the groom.
Intestines becoming a movable scene
Painting his doubts on top of his spleen.
Her beauty, her radiance
Her very physique
Pulled at his heart
And tore at his speak.
For not one word uttered that day was true.
Top of the list I’m afraid, was
I do.

Boy is Girl.

How's your son?
Who Eric?
Yeah Eric.
He's fine as far as I know. Your daughter, she's well?
Erica's fine but there's one thing I need to tell.
Go ahead, I'm ready, let me in.
It's about their closeness you see. I think that one is the other's unconscious and somehow take turns to be.
You're saying that one is the other and not an extension of solo existence?
Something like that except to stress that their energy meets no resistance.
Resistance to what? To eachother or self?
They're one and the same don't you see?
I'm starting to develop a picture all right, but wondering how could that be?
It's hard to explain, I don't know if I can.
You think you know something better?
Again I'm not sure but if you let me develop, I need to go by the letter.
Eric is Erica's male alter ego and she is his by design
This is something quite out of our remit and never was part of mine.
But to say he is she and she part of he
Means that you and I may be joined.
But then aren't we all, how could we not be?
It's how 'universe' was coined.
I feel that our son and daughter both
Encapsulate all that has happened
Since life here began, since shedding our coat
We depend on eachother forever.
It's true, you're right and so I should ask not
how are they by name.
But all of us, how are we all?
For we all of us are the same.
Exactly, I think you get the idea. They've taught us a lot don't you see?
I do for we have taught them well,
For they are you are me.

What's Right?

Football’s on, the playoffs begin.
He sits on his chair and opens his tin.
It’s not the same without a brew or two, to chug in your mouth and loosen the screw.
Apprehensive about what is to come
The game replacing a life that is numb.
To the touch, to the feel
Now fake once real.
Nobody’s fault especially him
He did nothing wrong
He did nothing wrong.
Touchdown and cheer
Another beer?
Not this time as the others make it perfectly clear
That he is not one not really, not ever
His life is in shreds
To ignore that’s not clever.
But she sees him for what he once was and could be
Not what he is now, failed potentially.
White teeth, blonde hair, muscles and charm
Living inside him arm over arm.
Past pictures of smiles and days at the beach, laughing and joking and full of potential
Lie idle upon the mantle beside
His place that has now become prime residential.
Immovable objects both body and mind
Stuck in a cycle held fast
Try as she does, to remember his touch
Brings pain and pathos allied to what’s passed.
Elsewhere is hope, elsewhere is vision
The unknown charm of the unknown winks and nods and says how do you do?
To the woman who’s future is already blown.
That’s how it appears as she views the chair
The one holding him and his now greying hair
The one holding the man who promised so much
And failed to deliver on such.
A favour, however, that turned out to be
Delivered and received obliviously
Neither giver nor taker understanding it’s value
Until it’s lesson was stamped on her arm
And her eyes were opened to the true disposition
That dwelled in her heart and her soul and position
Before this never spoken or allowed to exist
How could it if it were merely the breeze in the mist?
While outside of herself she admitted
To never knowing her worth
Or claiming to have hold on the future
Not allied to others – them first.
Habits and doctrine, the old arm in arm
Blindly followed and presented with charm
Becomes a chore after years of practice
The shine wears thin.
Halftime beckons and still not a stir
The beer is warm, the immovable bear
Warm in its cave and snug as it rests
The questions ignored, not sitting the tests.
He did nothing wrong.
He did nothing wrong.
Not even the sound of the air rushing in
Cleaning the old world down
Disturbs the level of concentration
Required to acknowledge life’s frowns.
She smiles at her past, the future still thin
And out from the void she departs
Gaining weight by degrees as her true self stretches it’s limbs
And says good morning to the birds and the trees.
She did something right.

She did something right.

What's Cooking?

The took a Fatwa out on my baker.
His blueberry muffins were deemed offensive and an affront.
Lucky for him they never tried his eclairs.
Would have been a bloodbath.

Short Stay

Woven carpet. Intricately patterned colours evoking calm and warmth.
Lighting meticulously regulated ensuring a hint of home melded into unfamiliar surrounds.
Faces smiling and welcoming, open, accepting and approachable. Happy you have arrived and eager to show your accommodation.
The facade failing on the smudged elevator door.
All is not perfect here.

Change Your Life

The Lotto One winning numbers are 1,2,3,4,5,6.
The Lotto Plus winning numbers are 1,2,3,4,5,6.
The Lotto Xtra winning numbers are 1,2,3,4,5,6.
So close.


Twenty year old jogger.
Sunday morning.
Every Sunday morning, 9am.
A time to beat. Body rhythms to regulate. Targets to achieve.
Black jog pants and top. Tight and neat.
Blonde pony tail bobbing precisely.
Just like her mother twenty years ago.
Just like her daughter twenty years from now.

Lucky Jim

A different shout. To nothing visible.
Walking past avoiding glances.
Arms flailing to apparently random beats, conducting the madness.
"Heeeeey" !
Shouting at loss, anger, displacement.
We can't all claim to see our lack.
Who's the lucky one?


A breath mint.
That's how I coped.
After the beatings, the threats, the questions, the shouting, the intimidation and the pure terror.
After all of that and with his face pressed intimately to mine, whispering those hate filled words, all I could think was that it would have been nice if he had chewed a breath mint.