Love From The Bard

A backstreet romance, confused and mundane.
You meet in the sunshine but, thereafter it's rain.
Go visit the High Street and mortgage you r pain.
You can't drop your guard if you wanna be the bard.

I started to write a sonnet once before.
With words in French like; je t'aime mon amour.
You winced when you heard it, so I sank to the floor.
Why is it so hard when you wanna be the bard?

I've heard that lust is a sexual disease.
To unlock the cure would you hand me your keys?
It sounds so English when you make me say 'please'.
So, have some regard when you punish this bard.

For some reason or other I gave you a ring.
Promised for your love I'd do anything.
Even write you a song and, you know I can't sing.
Let me send you a card: Love from the bard.

It's not easy to express the way that I feel.
Folks say I'm a dreamer, but to me this is real.
So, if love is a banquet, may I be your meal?
Give an inch take a yard, but let me be your bard.

Reincarnate me as a pair of your shoes.
You could walk over me whenever you choose.
But as I'm still alive, I guess I'll just hit the booze.
Your mind's tortured and scarred if you think you're a bard.


Capability Red          April 2017

I Think I've Lost The Plot

I'm trying hard to write a novel and I think I've lost the plot,
People tell me that I'm Bogey but deep down I know I'm not.
The hero will be based upon a dude I call my friend
who drinks Davy's Old Wallop and tells tales that never end.
Wendy is his girlfriend, she will have to play a part
she's so loyal to the dude that it almost breaks my heart.
She'll be Little Miss Fandangle, a proper femme fatale
twittering and texting as the dude is sent to jail
on a corporate manslaughter charge, pointless to contest,
provoking lurid tabloid headlines and industrial unrest.

So, I'm going 'round in circles and I think I've lost the plot,
I know there'll be a villain but it's someone I forgot.
I see the Shadow in the mirror, I hear him on the 'phone
he haunts me in my nightmares he just won't leave me  alone.
They couldn't reach a verdict when Alice Lane was killed,
but the Shadow's true identity could never be revealed.
Yes, I'm trying to write a novel and I'm seeking inspiration
a poetic anthropologist on Dagenham Heathway station,
where the walking dead around me are completely unaware.
So I think it's time to move along and visit Russell Square.

Wendy doesn't like it, she says I've lost the plot,
that dreadful Miss Fandangle she most certainly is not.
It caused an edgy atmosphere, she sat there in a mood
as I enjoyed a seventh pint of Wallop with the dude.
Researching and, pontificating in the pub,
an affiliated member of the rags to ruin club.
So, Alice Lane was killed, but, was the dude to blame?
Struggling with the narrative uncertain of my aim.
dragged backwards through the shredder, pilloried and shot.
I'm just trying to write a novel and I think I've lost the plot!


Capability Red            March 2017 

The Fry-up Police

The other day I spoke to my niece,
she said she'd had a visit from the fry-up police.
Renting a cafe on a ten year lease,
along with her boyfriend, whose name is Rhys,
he wears a Miami Dolphins fleece.
Unfounded rumours of excessive grease,
try as they might they can't get no peace,
so they talk to me for neurotic release,
and I listen real good and then I pen this piece
which I'm dedicating to the fry-up police.
C'mon man, this has got to cease :
Who the hell are the fry-up police?


Capability Red        Feb 2017

The Hermit

Said the old man in pain:
 " We all go insane
every now and again"
We escape if we're lucky
cling to each other
sisters and brothers.
No Sons and Lovers.
Drowned in acid
we're vacantly placid.
The Hermit sits and watches the world go by.

Like marionettes
game and set
you ain't seen nothing yet.
Crying out for rain,
so tell no lies
of death before your eyes
or only second prize.
I just want to live..
Can you forgive?
The Hermit remembers days gone by.


Capability Red                aprox'  1984

An Industrial Disease Called Ballotitis

Think what you could lose,
the holiday and the HP on the car.
And, don't forget, the fridge needs replacing.
Think about it, now you've come this far.
Surely you wouldn't want to risk your mortgage to spite us?
Not now you've got ballotitis.

The prospect of a good job,
could be yours, if you act reasonably now.
Look at it "realistically",
we can offer you what our dividends will allow.
We're all on the same side.
So, what's the point in trying to fight us?
Especially if you've got ballotitis.


Capability Red                    1984

The Visit

Note: The 1990's were a barren period for my poetry. The Visit is a rare offering:

                                                       The Visit:

It's a long time since I came here; nearly two years.
Time tends to numb emotion; no longer can I shed tears.
Your plaque was noticeably unattended.
As I thought: I'm the only one that still cares.
In a consumer society of greed, death is the common denominator we all share.

A humble tissue to clean your plaque, tenderly I kissed.
Looking down at the inscription: 'Dearly Loved Sadly Missed'.
It was a warm autumn afternoon,
as it was if I remember, the day you died.
I looked up and simply asked "why?".
But nobody replied.


Capability Red            aprox' 1992

Is There a Way Out ?

Barren as a blank page. Still, as the poet's sword rusts.
As sad as the solo violinist echoing notes of mistrust.
The apprentice asks: Is there a way out?

Suffering descendants of the virgin Mary's family tree,
are welcomed to Meanwhile where words can get so lonely.
The lexicon asks: Is there a way out?
                           Is there a way forward?

Truth remains out of focus through the hired cameraman's lens.
24 hour closed circuit politics bewilder blind battery hens.
The terrorist shouts: Is there a way out/
                               Is there a way forward?
                               Is there another way?

In rationed desolation the schoolboy's dream still lingers.
No clenched fist will form from nervous, trembling fingers.
The backstreets echo: There is a way out!
                                  There is a way forward!
                                  This is the way.
                                  Follow me................



Capability Red       Oct 2016