Bathroom

The water pipes talk,
Conversations rattle
And groan,

Doubts gently drip

And the extractor fan
Is moaning again,
Gently incessant,

I’ve heard its words before,

They all revolve around
The worst things
That could happen
Right now.

It’s lost on me,
Familiarity
Has been breeding

And I think
This might be the moment
I finally spin things my way,

I think this
Might be the moment
I sing against rhythms

And leave here
A dreamer,

Load lightened.

This room was once sodden,
Now it’s suddenly golden,

Watch me rise from my throne
And start charming the chosen.

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Home To Roost

Late at night,
Near dawn,

A hollow yawn,
Dry mouthed
And tethered
To the table,

Unable to speak,
Just moans and groans
Like a boxer
Old and broken,

Shades and tones
Of some poor bastard,
A token soldier
Home to roost

Then roasted
Under lamplight.

Empty bottles clinking
As the shaking floorboards
Greet another
Passing train,

It’s either the start
Or the end
Of the gloomiest film
Never written,

Or a plain old excuse
To keep drinking,

As the bells
And the gunfire
Die down

And the ghosts
Start their strange
Wistful singing.

January

They’re wiping their chins,

All logic-less rambles
And ambling rants.

They’re drowning in reason,

Afternoon beers
Wetting their beards,

A shit sit-com rejected,
The fears of five clowns;

Two of them talk politics,
The third breaks wind,
The fourth cracks gags
And the fifth
Sits writing notes

(Doodles really –
He’s drawn a picture
Of a sausage dog smiling
And has reminded himself
To buy bacon
On the way home).

There’s a thick air
Of righteousness
And bad breath,

Frequent coughing
And shouting,

They’ve decided,

The homeless should work on farms,
Fracking should happen but only in Scotland,
China’s one child policy is a good idea,
Nuclear power has changed a lot since Chernobyl,
Young people have it too easy

And that they all hate January.

Two Smiles

A fresh silhouette
Hovers on the wall,

Two smiles hooked together
As shadows entwine,

The new simple jigsaw.

There’s a hush of contentment,
A rush of tickled blood

And an unspoiled belief
That these whispers

Could multiply,
Flutter and sing

When the morning arrives
With its sweet offerings.

Effervescent

We fizz above the drains
Of this effervescent city,

Scatter random thoughts
And watch them walk off
Hand in hand
Through the fog.

We raise a glass to the night sky
And it’s infrequent stars,

Improvise in bars
And patch together stories
With lazy memories and laughter,

A crafted moment sparked.

Frosty Mornings

Giddiness blossoms
As frosty mornings return
And children sketch breaths