Duvet or not Duvet
that is the question
Whether ’tis nobler to grasp
the quilts and pillows of
Ophelia’s boudoir.
Or to trace her arms and heaving bosom
and by seducing to thrill,
to tie and to whip no more.
And by a cry to say we end
the hearthache, and the thousand natural
shocks that flesh is heir to;
‘Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished!




And my smelly shoes
keep me indoors
Smeared by the musty humidity of age
conscious of the self negating pusillanimous odours
And a single word announces 7 possible
destinations, tantalising…

But the death grip of sanity
indecision again

The fear of being here
cancelled by a fear of being near.
A strange familiar paralysis
unrecognised movement….


Drowned feelings
drowned by an emotional unconscious
Preventing propelling action ..

Something Woolly

Is that a new song.
Never heard it before
Every morning your new,
Sounds woolly maybe
We can knit together
Something warm
That melts their frost
On a winters day.


We do not stop at our skin
I in you now
and you in me
Playthings and
Drumbeats  cymbals
We do not stop at our skin
Go out out out
Reverberating beyond
And on and on
We do not stop at our skin
out out in
in on on
out out
in on on
in on on
in on on
on on on
out out in
Beyond your skin
you do not end
Strong enough to be gentle
Privileged to be kind
You do not end at your skin
Carry on in
the world that your out in.

A Private Conversation

I’m not assured

That how we meet

is assured and confidential.

It would be great

To meet in a more discreet


I need reassurance.

Maybe tied together  buried at night

Naked in a Coffin.

Maybe then we’ re safe

No one is listening.


our connection is totally

Remote from inspection.


Underground from Westminster

Her I saw

Jet Black hair

About her eyes

Hazel deep and gleaming

The odds were astronomical

A Startling coincidence

I was going to Sloane Square

And she where.

Her eyes stared, seemed assuring

But her mouth seemed thin

Maybe if she smiled

I would have been sure.

Eating apples

The nose it may have just matured

Reading G on the district line

Girl about town.

Then again near Hanover Square

The odds seem astronomical

Will I ever have another chance

To show I care.

Remember the best goodbye I ever spent

The mole is it still there.

Sitting, stand, alight platform Sloane Square

Moving without meaning


without reason.