Must I write every blooming thing?
Should I recite the seasons, including Spring?
Porn is not my thing.
Porn treats people as things, are you a thing?
Porn of every type is everywhere, to children, of children, with children, its in the air.
Do you care?
People like heroin, would you put in your children’s stew?
Is giving people what they want the thing to do?
I ask you.
My meandery mind is not made up.
Often I am told, shut up.
I say nothing everyone doesn’t know.
I told you so.
The truth is everywhere ignored.
Why heroin, are you bored?
There are many drugs and addictions, of course.
Computer games, don’t get me started, back a horse.
The inventor of the iPad would not let his children have one, ask why?
Does a drug dealer feed his children fantasy, truth or lie?
Very clever people sell their soul.
To part you from your money, make you pay a toll.
For what? For rubbish, waste your time.
A little goes a long way, like wine.
Nothing is inherently good or bad, too much of a good thing makes you mad.
I am sad.
Doing things because others do them makes no sense.
Who says you have to? Get up off the fence.
Alright, someday I will be dead.
These things should not go unsaid.
It’s as clear as day to me, look at our horrible history.
Now is now and one day will be past.
In living memory Jews were gassed.
I do not care about the colour of your skin or creed, I take no side.
Has truth nowhere to hide?
Pretend you don’t understand, what do you want to happen in your land?
How about old fashioned love and peace?
They had more sense in ancient Greece.
This is not my last poem, I guarantee.
You will hear more from me.
When do people die, when they are fed up?
I’m not dead yet, I will not shut up.
Drink the loving cup.
Its all so bloody obvious, I don’t want to curse.
Are you afraid of something worse?
Things are bad enough, too bad, the way they are.
Truth is my guiding star.
If I do not shut up why do you?
If you prefer it, do it, be true.
I am like you.
I’m just another you.
Trying to be true.
That will do.
For me and you.
Now I have a coffee to drink and a cigarette to smoke.
Perhaps I’ll ring a friend and tell a joke.
I’m not sorry I spoke.
I’ll leave it at that, I can’t go on forever.
When will the truth be, never?
I won’t say hardly ever.
That’s it, I’m tired.
I have not expired.
Old, but not retired.
End, begin. Win.
I really can’t go on.
Sometimes I go on too long.
Au revoir, before you say get out.
I prefer a whisper to a shout.
Leave me out.
I am driven nearly mad by life but not quite.
Before I die I hope to see things right.
Yes, I do mean what I say.
No one thinks anyone means what they say.
How on Earth can you talk to people then?
Am I alone among men?
I know I do have followers, some few.
Followers on my blog I mean.
As a boy I ate ice cream.
I still do on rare occasions when Summer shows its head.
I’m not dead.
As I seem to go on and never stop I now, for now, shut up shop.
I look forward to Spring.
Do your thing.
15th June, 2017