It’s time to go I’ll disappear

It’s clear that I’m not useful here.

I’m past my ‘sell by’ out of date

To slip away will be my fate.


When turning up is just a chore

You don’t belong there any more.

I’ve served my purpose, done my bit

There’s nothing left. I guess that’s it.


I’m out of here. I’m done I’m through.

There’s other stuff I want to do.

I don’t feel that I’m needed here.

It’s time to go I’ll disappear.


A response to the Daily Prompt

via Disappear


You try to write

6BDF702C-8DF9-41C5-B41E-14441D91CC39Modelled on Wendy Cope’s poem ‘Some More Light Verse’

You have to try. You try to write.

Your writing’s trite. You drink, get tight.

You struggle to improve your books.

You post a poem. It gets no looks.

You eat some food. You post some junk

You drink some more. You’re slightly drunk.

You read a bit, you walk, you dream.

But nothing works. You want to scream.

You don’t know what to do, you cry.

You’re running out of things to try.


You scratch your head. You try to write.

You try to eat and drink what’s right.

You fidget lots. You make a plan.

You long to write. You know you can.

But nothing works. You want to scream.

You walk some more. You read, you dream.

You eat, you drink. Still no one looks

You struggle to improve your books.

You can not see the point. You sigh.

You try to write. You have to try.


It’s all a little bit awkward

I don’t know what to say.

In truth we’re not accustomed

To doing things this way.


It’s all a bit unfortunate

Not how it’s supposed to be.

We’ll have real trouble explaining

How things got this way.


The situation’s awkward

It shouldn’t be this way.

Blushing and tongue tied

I don’t know what to say.





via Awkward

The Narcissist

He loved his own reflection

Caught it whenever he could.

Looked at himself in the mirror

More often than any man should.

He struggled to love any other

Thought far too much of himself.

His first thought on other’s affliction

Would be how it affected HIS health.

It wasn’t a difficult courtship

He loved his reflection at once

He knew he was made for no other

Their eyes had not met by chance.

via Narcissism

A response to the Daily Prompt



We were like the Holy Family
So the chaplain said
The ward like Bethlehem’s stable
Two parents wrapt with their child
But the child was dead.

You reminded him somehow of Mary
The messiah spread across her
As our child lay in your arms now
Limp and dead.

What’s the line from Eliot
About seeing birth and seeing death
And thinking they were different?
In the silence life and death
Seemed only a breath apart.
The child in my mind’s eye manger
Wears a crown of thorns.


There’s been a complication

Things didn’t go as planned.

It seems for Poet Laureates

They’re slightly overmanned.

Seems that Carol Ann Duffy’s

Already doing the job

And one Poet Laureate

On the books

Is really quite enough.

So I’ve done my Wedding Poem

But I didn’t get the job

I guess just knowing

I’ve done my bit

Will have to be enough.

via Complication