Holding my hands

leading me to the mirror

He stands behind

My shivering naked body

tracing delicately

smiling ear to ear

see how sexy you are? he asks me

this leads to a pink flush 

spreading to both cheeks

which he quickly hides

with pucked lips & kisses

Our eyes connect again

familiarity 

5 years of appreciating 

each others scent, smile and bodies

yet I'll never get tired of the love that he gives me

This paper is the same as that one

& it's identical to this

Fear mongering 

Lying bastards

Thinking running the world

Would be

A piece of piss

I only do the sudokos

and the crosswords 

If i'm feeling brave

Black & white newspapers

full of racism & full of hate

It smells like christmas dinner

But It's not due for a week

wetherspoons cashing in

yet when they do

it's bleak

There's never any flavour 

& The meat is so fucking dry 

but for a pub i applaud 

because at least you gave it a try

you get what you pay for

& that i already know

But why is my tesco meal deal nicer?

Forgive me if I'm slow

A sandwhich in a box 

at the local supermarket

this is a serious discussion

no I'm not being sarcastic

Ham & cheese sarnie

more moist than a pub roast

Unless it's a toby carvery

Which I'll always love

The most

A table for two 

But it's not a date

2 overly excited nerds

sat opposite having a debate

one got so excited 

he almost knocked over

his pint

But his mate is matching the energy

They take a break

Sipping at the drinks

But no food or plates

for their conversation 

is more important

They don't care if they're home late

If you're wanting to know what they're discussing 

I've just heard something escape

'I will become King' 

Then the other continues his debate...

Tables full

every one

on a wednesday 

a week before christmas

where do they find the cash?

Don't come for me

I'm not after backlash

I simply came to the pub 

with a notebook and a pen

& once perfected

maybe perform them

I don't understand why people

have crosses tattooed

on their skin 

or christianity & religion

or whatever they believe in

this man has a cross

beneath

his left ear

& socks & sliders

also

the fashion god

he must fear

is it a statement 

being there

so close to your face

or is it a warning

Because I've not said grace

Tattooed Flowers stabbed

onto the back of a

shaved head

Sat

with a face of pure disgust

I wonder why he chose flowers

to be displayed so bold

I need to know

I must

But for some reason

He seems like a man

I'd trust

Familiar faces

Looking up at me 

From the other side of the room

Egging on a conversation

acknowledgement

Anything

But I look down

Headphones on

Music at volume zero

Will they get the message?

Or should I become a social hero?

Dressed in a cape and pink underpants

Pulled over the top of my clothes

I'm just not really sociable 

& don't turn up your nose 

I'd rater write about strangers lives

But living in a small town means

That someone will recognise.

I pick up my pen

& scan across the room

These peple look familiar 

Yet I don't know who is who

I've seen them in wetherspoons

Asda

& Greggs

But what they do for a living

Well I wouldn't have a clue

I know their coffee order

& what time they go for a swim

I guess It's the perks of working here

Locally in Rushden

I see them at their worst

I see them a their best

I notice the little things

& the people who seem of interest

I know their dogs names

And that their sister has been a bit sad

They fill the silence 

Oversharing

Oh how they blab

I know that it's their sons birthday

& they've picked him up a little treat

You'd be suprised what strangers say

When you first start talking and meet

Comfortable in the shared space

A flutter of excitement 

Most people our age

Are hungover

But we're driving to a garden centre 

I sip at a coffee

& he plays with the radio

Flicking between 5 buttons

But only 2 stations play

Some with more crackles & static

Making small talk...

Nothing really meaning anything

When you live together

You're already caught up

But those quiet sunday drives

are something that I love

& I can't get enough of....

Lonliness has blessed me

With their presence

Eventually being lonely

Stops feeling lonely

You count down the days, hours & minutes

Till you arrive home

Sitting solo

Is sometimes the best way to go.

People hear the term consequence

& assume the worst

Like people like to do in general

Negativity

Fear mongering 

Racism

Social Media 

Cameras out

Recording other peoples suffering

But what are the consequences

for positive things?

Thinking for yourself

& working your ass off

to succeed 

Loving something or someone so much

that the consequences

Are to be loved back

Equally...

Karma is beautiful 

I've had to explain my fathers death

one hundred times

& I'll have to explain it

One hundred times again

I wish I had a sticker

Lanyard or a badge

" Yes, my parents are dead. Now talk to me about something else."

But then they'll talk to me about the weather 

& I'll wish to hear another

"I'm sorry for your loss"

Instead

Come on darling 

Just a small bite left

Just eat the ham & don't worry about the bread

Just a little nibble

Come on love

Then your mum won't complain

look I know you've had enough...

Hey if you swallow that...

You can have some more sweets

I've got some biscuits here

whatever you fancy to eat.

Who's you favourite?

Is it grandma?

Of course it is

you little angel darling star

You flipped a switch

More like

You switched my flip

Seeing red

Like a bull

In a china shop

Walking on egg shells

Damage is going to happen

When I'm shot in a room

Full of fragile things...

You've been poking me with a stick

But don't get suprised

When I get out a knife & fork

& bite your head off

At least offer me a drink

Or would you like me to be dehydrated too?

Ah I get it

Weaker people are easier to manipulate

She leads the way to the table by the window

He lets out a sigh before being seated 

This outing was planned by the wife

They’ve gone out for a nice meal

At Wetherspoons

Dressed in their Marks and Spencer jumpers

His shirt collars 

Peeking out

Patterned plaid

Clashing with the burnt orange pullover 

She matches her white turtle neck with her hair

They sit in silence

Peering at the menu

He goes to the bar

And comes back with two pints.

She gets up and leaves to go to the toilet 

He gets up when she comes back to get salt and vinegar

She gets up when he comes back to get brown sauce

Once they’ve finished avoiding one another

They pull out their phones and scroll through Facebook

With their index fingers…

2 middle-aged mothers 

Taking a few hours off

The brunettes coat arms

Trailing from her bum to the floor

Shoulder to wrist 

But

If her son 

Left his coat like this…

Oh she would moan

She would complain about the cost 

And the dirt and how she does so much

She would mutter put your coat up

Hang it on the back of the chair 

Not dragging around in this muck

But here she is

With little care 

She doesn’t have to play the role of mum tonight

And her friend 

With blonde hair 

Is cackling between sips of wine

The pub is full 

But no one has said a word

Scrapes and cutting on plates 

Is all that can be heard

The care homes are probably empty 

For they’ve all turned up to spoons

A rainy Friday night 

But treated to some food

They’re all dressed in their best 

Lipstick reapplied 

That guy hasn’t moved

Is he asleep or has he died

And that man took 6 minutes to stumble 5 steps 

But the regulars that come here

Really believe it’s the best

Ah a buzz starts 

But the buzzing isn’t a fly 

A group of young men seemed to have just arrived

It’s that weird time

Dinner and pre-drinks vibes

But the vibes are a little strange

So I think I’ll finish my drink

His face 

Like leather 

Old and wrinkled 

But his eyes 

Still young

And full of pain

Tiredness seaps

From his frown lines

His smile lines

Barely visible

This man

Still hopeful

Waiting

On platform number one 

He clutches a bouquet of lilies 

For him

Today has just begun 

Slouched over on the first seat he could find 

Hard hat and a black backpack

Neon orange hi vis coat

With trousers to match

For once someone not looking at their phone 

But staring at the ground

Preparing himself for a

Long wet day 

At first glance

Theese roses

Seem beautiful

They lie on my bed

Enticing

Seducing

Hungry for eyes

To pick them apart

& undress them

But as you do

Your fingers are pricked

Red raw

Thorns

Blood

Starting to pour

on white bed sheets

Red roses

Blending with beauty

Pretending

At first glance these roses

Seem beautiful

But they are there to distract you

Reality is a scare...

Autumn knocked on my door

this morning

Her hair was auburn 

& she was armed with a pumpkin spiced latte

Her scarf was like a blanket

& her boots were lined with fur 

She pulled me in for a hug

& squeezed me so tight that my snack

Of assorted biscuits

Travelled it's way back up...

The scents of cinnamon & star anise

Whirled around & choked the air

Every waking day

I am born again

Adopting a new version

Armed with a previous days 

Knowledge 

& history

& Pulling back the duvet 

I will rise out of my sheets 

Like a phoenix 

Rebirth 

I push the past

Out of the way...

Facing what's ahead

Until tomorrow

When I am

Born again 

My lips quiver & shake

Chin following

Teeth cluttering

Mouth parted 

Until I cry

Like I am a child again

Muttering a "This isn't fair"

Following with a stomp of my feet 

& a kick of a chair

Who gives a shit

About how many likes 

Your last post on Instagram got?

Oh right

You do

&  I used to be the same

Wondering what I could do

To reach fame...

But at the end of the day

I'd rather have ten likes

on a poem that I worked

My ass off for

Because ten people in a room is much more 

Then I'd really be comfortable with anyway

And these ten people may even comment

We may have a conversation out of it

Out of me chatting shit

So why chase likes?

Instead chase your dreams 

Put a pen to paper

& just write

Write everything you 

See

Feel 

Breathe

Poetry is where life is 

It's alive if you want it to be

It's here for you more than you believe

& the people who are on the same journey

Are here too

Maybe at a different stage

But still the same road

Not distracted by sign posts

That scream a lack of dignity 

Or toxicity 

Or evil

So crave simplicity in these times of need

& fuck what's considered acceptable if you're happy

Keep chasing those dreams

Instead of acceptance of others

Chase what life really should be

Follow the laws of living healthily

& aim to be free

Heart of Gold

Berlin

But not an inch of glamour 

A hostel

Not a hotel

or something of the latter

A man floating about

& wandering

but doesn't have a key

He's just begging for a room

& everyone is letting him be

A football shirt

& faded tattoos

He's walking here

Then walking there

All over the boat

He's making friends

& chatting shit

Looking like a right tit

He has no clothes

But a packet of crisps

Asking for cash

his limbs peaking out 

& a bright red angry rash

People go about their lives

Walking

Sitting

Talking

I find it hard to romanticise

When I don't even know them

No feelings attached

May as well be a one-night stand

A quick 'sorry'

When you bump shoulders

But otherwise

No chat

Maybe if you're lucky

We may even hold eye contact

But a stranger can become a lover

From out of the blue

Until it ends quicker than planned

And you hadn't wanted it to

Then the lover becomes a stranger

With nothing you can do

You barely recognise them

& they feel the same way about you too...

Spring showers are shit

Unpredictable & surprising

I dressed for the summer 

Then shivered home

Crying

My bare legs

Red

With goosebumps & pimples

It's a good job

I didn't cross the line

& dust off my flip-flops

"It's freezing out there"

Then a shiver & a shake 

I've heard the same line

Over & over

There's no mistake

I let out a fake laugh

& a cheesy big smile

Customers test my patience

Every once in a while 

This is a poem

For my first love

It is not a he

Nor a she

Physically underwhelming

May I say

But the feelings that I get

In my stomach

& my mind

The little blush & laugh

& smile

Always there

Anytime

Any day

An extension of

My heart & soul

I'd marry it

If I could

My first true love

Is always here

Poetry

Thank you

For being

My muse

Cobble streets &

Wheely suitcases

Walking on the road

A group of tourists

A speeding car

They're in their stopping-and-chatting mode

Several honks of the horn

Until they realise their errors

Families abroad

Just seem to go feral

An all-inclusive package

Is by far the worst

Stacking up plates

Until their burnt bellies burst

Alcoholic drinks watered down

Full of ice 

But you're already tipsy

Your fake tan is looking nice...

You found a hotel

That you seem to like

Now you go every year

At a discount price

The staff know your name

& you know theirs 

Keeping up to date

With their family affairs

But there's something not quite right

& it doesn't feel like home...

Oh well...

It's just another thing for you to

Complain about & moan

A man's version of

Live

Laugh

Love

is...

It's coming home

Misery turns to excitement

& that moody alcoholic...

cracks a smile

I couldn't care less if we win

But to see English men have a glint in their eyes

Makes all of this football rubbish

Worthwhile

& I'm rooting for our team

It would get men out of their depression

It would make pigs fly

Cheese would become affordable again

Perhaps all this country needs is a win

so next time...

It's coming home 

I'm more of a casual type

Baggy t-shirts

Converse

Fountain pen to write

I'm easy to please

Strike up a conversation

About anything deep

& I promise

I'll be intrigued 

Cause honestly?

Your existence is the greatest gift

To me...

Optimistic

Spiritualistic 

Mentally Strong

But...

Don't discuss statistics

Cause... I'm bad at maths

& I seem to say the wrong things

At the wrong times

But...

I'm unapologetically me

& that's hardly committing a crime 

Dad

It's hard to talk about you

Without my voice breaking

It will be a year in a month

Since I got that call 

& You were lying peacefully in bed

For the last time

But we'd like closure now

Still

No death certificate

& Last week I had to identify

His handwriting

With the police stood over me

asking if I knew anything

It's an in-depth inquest

& I just want it done

Because this stress is harder

Then I let on

Replaying these memories in my head

Crouched over your bed

Looking at the pillows

Where you last laid your head

& I asked why?

But we stripped the bed

Took the sheets

To the tip

& I cried

I still cry

Sometimes I call your phone

Just to hear your voice saying 

"Hi, leave a message after the tone..."

How is life?

Are you all still distracting yourselves

From your trauma?

Drinking...

So that you don't sit in a room

Thinking...

What is so scary

About your thoughts?

Are you too busy with your children &

Catching up with the latest episode of your favourite 

Soap or series or drama?

Putting on a video in the background

Or a film

or anything...

So that you can't hear the gentle buzz of life

When was the last time

That you heard the birds?

When was the last time 

That you walked on grass barefoot?

When was the last time

That you put yourself first?

Now...

I don't mean buying a takeaway or having a holiday...

Silly!!

When was the last time 

That you listened to your thoughts 

& faced the truth?

How about now?

One day

Your body & your mind

will tell you

That you are done

It won't suffer anymore

This will be the most

Inconvenient time...

Or so you think

You'll snap

& You'll say

I'm sick of all this shit

You'll grow wings out of your back

& that ego of yours will shrink

Everyone always seems to fear death

But you can die

Whilst still being alive

Rebirth is almost as easy 

As washing your hands in a sink

You'll see people for their intentions

Before they've even had time to blink

Every time I have a phone call

With my friend Wayne 

We have distractions...

The world gives us

It's best shot.

Groups of families

Walking at 2 miles per hour

In front of us

Like a human barrier

Cars reversing

Almost hitting us

People falling off bikes

Old people with trollies

3 police cars and an ambulance

We can't be hit 

Our health will go down

We must complete the level

& accept the side quests

Oh no

The final wave is starting...

I don't like pretty people...

I like rough...

worn round the edges

grungy

&

messy 

Dragged through a hedge backwards 

kind of people

The people who don't have much time 

To do themselves up

Because they've been busy doing other stuff...

He leans over me

Shoulder touching mine 

Smiling with his eyes

Speaking softly

Quietly

Pointing out of the plane window 

"I love this part...

It's so beautiful"

In his thick slovakian accent...

He points again 

The plane lowers into the clouds

Slowly

Seductivly 

& teasing

Covering the wings & windows

In fluffy

Marshmallow like

Goodness..

I blush at the thought of him 

finding poetry

in something so beautiful 

before I could...

I'm starting to socialise again...

In those tough six months 

It was rough

& social anxiety turned up

With a torch 

They came to me with 

Open palms & 

Inviting arms

Reassuring that I'd be out of harms way

But they lied 

I was not better off

In fact

Quite the opposite

But...

Not to worry 

That relationship was only temporary

We broke up and now I'm back

Smiling

Laughing

& Chatting

Today will be the last day

That I get used as a doormat 

I have made mistakes

I have socially checked out

& I have met karma too many times

This week alone...

For the foreseeable future

I am busy

Busy being sat at home

Don't call

Don't text

Don't bother

Because

I won't pick up the phone...

To call this season... Summer

We may require the sun

But remember we're in England

Down the road

The water runs

A cup of tea

Inside a blanket

& listening to the downpour

This English summer was here for a day

Teasing you with some warmth

& then the weather switched 3 times

& that was just before you'd had lunch

Yeah, yeah I'm loving the weather

& your sarcasm

Thanks a bunch

How do you know 

That I’m real?

How do you know that

I’m not AI generated

On the ‘internet’

But

Even If you have

Met me

Are you even real?

My cheeks are sore

Soaked with tears

I’m living each second

But my minds not here 

Blank face and have little care

Feeling suicidal

Motivation stripped bare 

I held onto the thought of us

I held onto our friendship

& the fact that we considered each other

Family

You were my best friend 

& my brother

We could be ourselves

Around each other

We wouldn’t judge

But once I’d met

The real you

Fucking hell

It all made sense

You’re the worst human being

I’d ever met

& I’m glad our ‘friendship’

Is in the past tense

I’d love to create a portrait

Of myself

But it would be abstract

It would be my mind & soul

Splattered on a page

3d, 4d

You’d hear bizarre sounds

You’d feel the flush 

Of my cheeks

& you’d feel a cat

On your lap 

Because a basic portrait

Has never been further from

My vibe

When our lips touch,

my heart explodes,

Passion whirls around the room.

The rain on your windows,

Under the duvet,

Body goals.

I'm in love with you,

It's time to watch our life unfold.

Falling for you harder

every time you say my name

No matter the distance our feelings stay the same

Your laugh and your smile

Will always fill me with glee

I don’t think you realise Kieran 

How happy you’ve made me

Being a writer is...

Writing on the back of receipts 

It’s crumpled drafts

Bus tickets

Half a poem written

But...

In four different inks

I could have sworn

This pen worked yesterday 

But the universe is trying to stop me

Connect the dots

Connect the links...

There’s a lot of pressure 

to fit into a box

A box that’s too small

A box that you must lose weight to get into

Or a box that you have to fit in perfectly but it’s too big

And will fit a family of four in 

A box that you have to get through security to enter 

No tattoos 

No piercings 

Blonde hair 

Big boobs 

A job that’s considered acceptable 

Your hobbies should consist of 

Yoga or Zumba 

And slimming world 

You should complain about your husbands and how tired you are and how your kids are just being trouble recently…

You constantly lose your temper and your husband escapes at any opportunity possible because a simple shopping trip or even watching TV just consists of stress…

Why would I want to live that way? 

Why should I fit into your box? 

Shaved legs

Matching underwear

Makeup & washed hair

Is not a sign that a

Woman loves you

Try a messy bun

A stained t-shirt

& prickly legs

Bad breath

Morning sex

Stopping in the middle

To fart...

That’s what real love is 

It upsets me to think 

That people look to religion

For answers 

Instead of the inner voice 

That they label as 

‘God’

When in reality

The gut feeling

The voice that they hear

The ideas

Are all their 

Gut feelings

And egos 

So instead of praying

To a so-called ‘God’

Please

Listen to yourself 

First

Codewords

Rambling

Talking shit

Or am I?

Am I a villain...

Or a am I a genius?

The groups of men 

Smoking outside 

The coffee shop 

Gold cigarette ends 

Leave a trail

Stained ash trays

Red chairs

Sugar packets soaked

Drowning 

In ignored

Last gulps

Abandoned

Wonky tables

Damp

At an angle

Toastie packets

Cheese tangled

Ham, cold

Rejected & recycled

By the birds

But the cigarette butts 

Are digesting

In the poor birds’ guts

Apparently

There are two brains

In our bodies

One in our head &

One in our gut 

It’s where our gut feeling comes from

I see it as one of our senses

See

Smell

Taste

Hear

Touch

Gut feeling...

Support your local jester

Support your local theif 

Support your local tree

Support your local leaf

Support your local druggie

Support your local Chinese

But don’t support the government 

Or those that cause you grief

Support your local poet

The one who holds a pen

Don’t support the government 

I must repeat again

Support your friends 

& their dreams

Back them at all costs

Support the local businesses 

& those that you love lots