never mourn.

No matter how hard I try
it cant be done,
never called you mother
not to cause pain,
but because I dont see you
as my mum.
These emotional strings
were cut long ago
since then I've just drifted
not from just you but also
the other strangers that make up
our common surname.
I can force myself to try to
feel something at least for you,
but I dont.
Dont expect me to shed a tear
at your funeral
I shant be there, no-where near
as you're already dead to me

haikus some more

.StupidQuestion.
'Can't find my glasses'.
'What do they look like?' They ask,
'glasses,' I reply.

.WishICouldTellYou.
Can never tell you,
Whisper it now, in your ear.
Pretty in your sleep.

.CheaperThanAnnSummers.
Lonley shy woman,
to get her sexual kicks.
Uses spin cycle.

haiku entry

.ShortLife.
Continues to float,
flower drifts down aging Taff
out to sea to die.

another haiku

.SeasonChangeOver.
Birdsong loud and strong,
filling this joyous day full.
Like the summers sun.

that older woman

No-one around here except you.
My known knowledge
of adult film scenes.
Many start this way.
The older woman draws me near
that smile dazzling like full beams
her eyes glow with experience
and tales I long to hear.

Multi-tasking Wonder Woman
sent here to tease
not just me
but every straight male.
With just a flick of your hair
have men filing about
like a worker bee.
We're all weak at our knees.

Standing patiently in the room,
leaves me feeling
like a naughty boy
awaiting punishment.
Maybe, thats just my fantasy.
Your skin soft like a smooth alloy
warm, still kissable like that
castle stone at Blarney.

Multi-tasking Wonder Woman Wonder
sent here to tease,
not just me
but every straight male.
With just a flick of your hair
have men filing about
like a worker bee.
We're all weak at our knees.

Heels replaced by trainers new,
like your underwear.
Goddess to frumpy.
Still a knockout set.
Kept nearby under lock and key
for special occasions, like on tv.
Fine red wine. Full, strong body
taste bud pleasing & classy.

moral haiku

.FromAllOverTheyTravel.
Used as an excuse
those with little weak morals.
Here in Amsterdam.

weekend in amsterdam

Unified by cheap print poloshirts
meaningless nicknames
sprawled across thier backs,
stained with alcohol spilt.
Alpha male empty drinked, blurts
'dont tell the missus',
striding into her red lit room
leaves with no trace of guilt.

haiku

.PictureSpoiler.
Butterfly floats by,
take aim with your camera, Damn!
Flutters on again.

further haikus to read

.DontWakeTheFolks.
Hiccupping home drunk,
key turns in lock like finger
in a crusty nose.

.PotOfHoney.
Aggressive headbutt
recieved from a bumble bee,
scalley of bug world.

.SummersSun.
Breeze ripples surface,
glistens like camera flashes
at a football match.

broken lava lamp

Whitenoise ticking from the clock
filling my empty world.
Unfurnished naked and bare,
jut the way I liked you
sitting here continuinhg to stare
into this dead space as it
all unfurls.

No bank holidays to delay
the inevertable,
from here in the front room
I see the binmen collect
the remains of you from my life.
this, the last play of our tune.

The longest week of my life
rumagaing through that attic space
riddance to all memories,
burn all photos attempt to deface
what I now hate.

Boxes soggy not from damp rain
from my heavy tears.
carried out to the doorstep,
people rumage through
our happy times we shared and felt
as they pass by this exhaling
lonely phase.

No bank holidays to delay
the inevertable,
from here in the front room
I see the binmen collect
the remains of you from my life.
this, the last play of our tune.

The longest week of my life
rumagaing through that attic space
riddance to all memories,
burn all photos attempt to deface
what I now hate.

Our yuka plant out there to fend
for dying itsself.
thankfully we had no children
our time spent together
our lives summed up in boxes.
that broken lava lamp another
dead promise.

No bank holidays to delay
the inevertable,
from here in the front room
I see the binmen collect
the remains of you from my life.
this, the last play of our tune.

lame haiku

.DownPour.
Rain floods the gutter,
drowning the soggy moss like
a drunken sailor.

the letterbox pervert

The letterbox pervert
follows dog walkers home.
He waits 'til nightfall
then strikes,
smearing his willy in dog food
and poking it through
the letterbox and whistles to
get the dogs attention.
'Good boy' he squirms against the door.

another haiku

.Alone.
Here in the front room
I see binmen, collect the
last of you from my life.

the white socked wideboy of this land

'Lizzy duke splashed around my neck
like cheap aftershave,
for I am all that is wrong
with society.
I should be you servant,
as your taxes pay for me.
Those dole chasers to who I belong.
My senseless belief
in my selfworth,
shirt and tracksuit
bottom combo,
worn for so long.
For I am the
white sockeed wideboy.

some more haikus

.TrafficJam.
Bee impatiently
bumbles loudly, behind me.
Now safe to pass by.

.LambChopsAreReady.
Spring silence broken
by wary bleeting calls from
new lambing mothers.

.OutdoorRamble.
Squelchy field loaded,
like land mines, be careful where
you put your foot down.

sad face

My childhood sounds
are not happy ones,
The crunching angry blows
from a father who drank.
The screeching shouts from
mother who didnt care.
My own sounds of muffled
sobbing tears i cry.
But silence now
as i hide in my secret place.

some more haikus

.SpringShower.
Rain clouds gather,
run outside with soap on rope,
Soul quenching shower.

.StillWaiting.
My ring finger burns
to be clad in band of gold,
for what it stills yearns

Tipsy kisses

Tipsy kisses seem nothing now,
caught tagged on facebook
for everyone.
To have a look.
Gossip and rumour,
freshmint listerine
mouth tasty and clean.
Putting me off-kilter with
that kiss,
I lean in again for another
and miss.

haiku by me

.MiniTank.
Woodlouse trundles by,
a tank through a dead warzone.
Damp rotting bathroom.

camping issues

Sleeping under the silent stars
one of the joys of camping,
until the couple nextdoor
go at it.
Sounds like a man unblocking
a sink with a plunger.