It's All An Act

The celebrity guest commented that he decided not to accept that particular acting job because it would have taken him in an opposite direction, artistically.
The listening audience of students wanted to shout "How much were they going to pay you"??

Address Me

Her attempt at looking knowledgeable and in control manifested itself in a light green buttoned jacket, straight cut black trousers and a cream blouse.
But what does a suit know?

Play On

Silent wails of anguish
Unspoken thoughts of grief
Imagined situations
Becoming a belief.
What may is now what is
What couldn't be sits real.
It's better to be numb
It's better not to feel.
No evidence or proof required
In the drama of your making.
Script is penned, actors primed
Your play, it is awaking.


That feeling.
You know the one.
Only you know.
It arrives unannounced. Unwelcome.
Delivering a package.
Contents to be determined.

Wine O'Clock

Nuzzer glaz ov wine...?
Shure. Why not. Z'not like I'm driving, right?
Nooooooo. Ha! Oooooh.
It'z weekend 'nd no harm n'relaxing is there?
Plus I'm in my own house.
Oh yes.

Any Old Iron

The iron, sitting on top of the fridge in the one bedroom apartment of the twenty year old art student.
Feeling unappreciated.

Stereo Wars

Sometimes for kicks, Lorraine thought about swapping the 'L' and 'R' around.
But never did.
You don't want to mess with things like that.
The world is just fine as it is.

Annual Leave

George left his job in November.
Same time as last year. And the year before, funnily enough.
Not really that funny actually as he had been leaving jobs in November for the past eleven years.
Christmas parties.
He just couldn't face them anymore.

It's the 80s

Arthur looked ridiculous
All dressed up to the nines
Where you going dressed like that?
His grandfather opined.
"Out' roared Arthur angrily
Checking his tie in the mirror
"Don't wait up, cos I'll be late"
He hadn't even had his dinner.
They just don't get it or understand
What it's like to be young today
This is the Eighties for crying out loud
I might even be gay.
Tresses spiked with hairspray
You could easily argue the case
Gay or heterosexual
Ask him to his face.
It didn't really matter
Gary Numan and Duran
All wore blush and lipstick
It made each one a man.
The war is over Grandad
Forty years ago
Orwell's big predictions
Eventually failed to show.
NME and Smash Hits
Are where the future's at
Don't criticise my lifestyle
Put away that judgement hat.
Instead of war and conflict
We have alternative comedy
Ben Elton and The Young Ones
That's how it will always be.
Channel 4 and Band Aid
Bananarama, Wham and Quo.
Don't talk to us about living
We'll teach you what we know.
Maggie down Malvinas Way
Arguing over sheep.
Ardilles and Ricky Villa
Waking Tottenham from their sleep.
The war is over Grandad
The Germans our our friends.
We drink each others' lagers
Und bleiben bis zum ende.
So yeah I'm going dancing
That's why I'm looking pucker
So stick that in your pie hole
You judgemental
When I grow old and boring
Which actually may not be
I'll make sure that my own kids
Feel one hundred percent free.
To speak and act as humans
With all that that incurs.
Unless they look ridiculous
In which case, Stay indoors.

Is You

She opened her purse and saw
Lipstick, keys and phone.
For looks, for shelter and the feeling
Of never being alone.
You never know who you’ll see
Online or one on one
You never know who’ll see you
On guard for guarded fun.
Take a pic and tweet it
To prove you’re really there
Instagram and Share it
To all that you think care.
They’ll like it and approve it
And say you’re looking hot
On the outside you may seem it
On the inside, maybe not.
No matter what the filter
Or angle utilized
Your inner voice is screaming
Insecurities itemized.
Honest feelings doused in blusher
Honest thoughts drowned by booze
Red or White for Madam?
Either Eyether, you can’t lose.
You deserve a good time
And want to share it with your friends
The picture will bear witness
To a night that never ends.
All sent out to the planet
So everyone can see
How great you look and how you smile
And how you are not me.
Dressed up and in your finest
Surrounded by old friends
Is good enough a reason 
To stay stored inside your head.
The memories and emotions
That make us who we are
Live not inside a hard drive
But our soul and our karma.
That’s the solid database
For all you feel and see
It’s what makes the unique you
The one that’s you, not me.
No Likes or Follows needed
No selling to a friend.
The real ones know your true heart
And love it to the end.
It’s nice to be regarded
Thought of and wanted too.
Just don’t forget, the one you need
The very most,
Is You.

The Little Things

Breath. Hair. A look.
Blink. Stare. A smile.
Sigh. Cry. Tone of voice.
Kettle's on for tea. For me.
I do it too. For you.
Walks. Talks. Dinner and lunch.
Sitting. Lying. Righting wrongs.
Listening. Ranting. Emotions true.
Discovering something new.
Pointing. Shouting. Quiet thoughts.
Close together in absence.
Eyes. Nose. Sound of voice.
Laughter. Songs. Jokes.
Points of view. Moods that move.
Familiar patterns. Habitual you.
Predictable comfort. Exciting words.
Ideas. Plans and hopes shared.
Boredom. Solidity. The feeling of life.
Permanence easily dented like ice.
Care, attention and diligence due.
The little things that makes us true.