Rudolph and the refugee child

A refugee child wondered weary and tired

looking for some food, shelter and warmth from a fire

but the snow fluttered from the sky

was Christmas a lie?

Rudolph flew down from on high

he would take the the child to the land of elves and presents

Father Christmas would feed the orphan child a roast pleasant

and show him the love the best present of all

in our hearts we must all break the wall.

There is no vending machine for love

You cannot find a vending machine for love

you cannot pretend it’s real love

My heart is on fire

is it a liar?

is all love is smoke and mirrors

if so can I forgive her

I check my change

you are everything I desire

my hearts ablaze

but is this only a phase?

love maybe a chase

but not a vending machine case

I haven’t the money to give

to choose the love I need to live

you are a beautiful woman

but I will never have you or own your soul

at least Love is fair in that respect it’s not out of control

I can put my money into the machine

but I will never be your dream.

Christmas is cancelled

Tear down the tinsel

put the Christmas tree in the skip

rip down the rope lights

make the Christmas fairy take flight

Santa is in debt

his company in administration

so Christmas is cancelled

the kids will drive us to frustration

but this economy is to blame

so stop making your Christmas pud

let the turkeys run free

stop buying presents from Tesco express

and get the kids a cardboard box instead

let their imagination run wild

Christmas will always exist in the heart of a child.

Ghost FM

The radio booms on speakers

it’s enough to wake the dead

zombies re attach their heads

ghosts clammer for attention.

What’s this dissenting dismal story

breaking from the ordinary

it must be the radio news.

This towns a ghost town and we are out of sight

dead ravens take flight

like they have been reanimated by Edgar Allen Poe

the word nevermore repeated.

Disco lights dance in the dusty ghostly radio station studio

the presenter moves his skeletal hand

and slides the controls to the peak setting.

his voice a long forgotten recording

playing jingles old songs and adverts

for a town where no one is around…

Ghost stories

Rain falling on the decomposing leaves
cold autumn air breathed in warm lungs
the wind blows muttering ghost stories
into our ears.

Pumpkins carved into wickedly twisted smiles
we dress up for Halloween discos and parties with style
gathering sweets as we go
while the full moon glows

Bonfires built as we wait for the 5th of November 
when fireworks will explode and sparkle in the night sky
we remember the gun powder plot 
as we toast marshmallows on the bonfire.

You are darkness

You are darkness

but there are stars shining in that darkness

the night gives the stars room to shine

and heaven is a heart that mines

all the diamonds in the sky

for us when we die

you cannot have the light without the dark

you cannot have light without a spark

which illuminates the dense darkness of night

we gravitate towards the light

we need it’s warmth like a beacon

otherwise we weaken

but the dark is place of growth also

and we grow in the dark towards the light.

A man filled to the brim

A man filled to the brim

with importance like a full pint

waiting to have his glass smashed

and the contents on the bar room floor

in a bar room brawl

or drunk or consumed

by time

I unlike have had my confidence dashed

my pint glass gone it’s contents drunk

I skulk in the background

I was only ever a lemonade man

in the shade never seen or scanned

by eyes

my life never pretty lies.