Bye to a home

Saying bye to a home

How do you leave a home that’s worked it’s way through the life of a family
A home that’s sat back and watched and waited to be loved again
As time after time it has been
How do you say goodbye to a home that fits around the years, of ups and downs
Of dreams and fears
How will I say goodbye to a home with a door that was always open to meet a
Complicated crisis
A tearful breakup, met with a house full of family love
And nothing travels better than family love
Family will remember the lovely different house.
Baby Jesus left early, as Mum and Dad moved in, Jamie insisted.
It was a porcelain cherub truth be told
And I hope Jamie hurts himself on another one this time
As we move Mum and Dad in, and they start extending, and Mum bleeds the radiator furthest away from the boiler xx


Somali Pirate Probs

The end never justifies the means.
The end never justifies the means.

It’s not easy being a Samali pirate.

You have to get up early.

And you have to tell your wife your doing this to make a better future for your family.

You tell her she has to look at the bigger picture.

Samali pirates have to be able to kill people.

And they often have to get up early.

And we all like to think that they cuddle their children.

When they get time off of course, bank holliday Monday or Xmas day.

Typical occasions when you hear Samali pirates say:

“I Love you Daughter have this scarf that I stole from a 50 year old Women.

I killed her because her relatives in Bradford didn’t have 12 pounds or 120 pounds well money anyway…

Got to go now anyway got to get up early.”



Southwold lighthouse
Southwold lighthouse

When I get to the sea I’ll smile and splash my face.

I’ll maybe paddle and stare at the join where the sea gives way to the sky.

I’ll wish I had a blue beach hut where I could put the kettle on and drink my tea.

I’ll probably walk to the harbour and put my jumper on as the evening chill draws in.

When I get to the sea my lonliness will stand out like a white lighthouse against a blue sky.

When I get to the sea.

I will miss you x.


I wonder


I wonder how you feel whilst buying a new Phantom drop head with the brushed aluminium bonnet and the polished wood behind you making you want to buy a Riva.

I wonder if it feels better than giving one to your Dad, giving one to your Dad would make you feel glad.

But would it feel nicer and would you be gladder.
If you felt inside a dead kangaroo’s pouch, and found a scared baby that couldn’t understand why Mum was so still.
And you took the baby roo and did what the Mum died trying to.

And I know the feeling of buying, and I know the feeling of giving but I’m thinking the feeling of saving
I’m thinking what a feeling and feeling and feeling.


Four (living things) To Remember.


Elephants bees whales and trees.

Your either for em or agin em.

We all thought for a while and then ordered more drinks.

Nobody had put it like that before.

These drinks are pricey this we had thought about,

Elephants bees whales and trees.

Well I’m for em!
I’ll get these I think it’s my shout,
Same again?

Elephants bees whales and trees.

Can you remember when they stopped existing?
No but it was the year that Chelsea did the double.
And did they make Sky compulsory?

After that?

Schools stopped teaching about Whales and Bees and Trees and Elephants had to be forgotten.
And now we’ll never forget.

Good luck Japan and all you other stupid hunting wankers…


Siege at the Jewellers

Screen Shot 2014-09-05 at 19.47.08

I met her again in spud u like she was working on the salad bar.
After the siege at the jewellers she was weary.
But I just had a green leaf salad and she relaxed.
We went on a date and on the train we argued about the best jacket potato filling and how much damage the microwave jacket potato had done in real terms.
I think looking back I knew it couldn’t work.
She did know a lot about loft insulation and now,
So do I.
I still think of her and I always put chives in my grated cheese just before the tuna mayo.
We spoke on the phone months later and after a pause She said:
You know we’re too different and your potato’s are too thick skinned.
I wiped away a tear and replied:
We’ll always have the siege at the jewellers x


When I was a Dog

pauliepaul x
pauliepaul x

When I was dog I fell in love with a cat.
At least I think I did if I knew what love was.
I knew that when we parted I felt empty and I wanted to tell cat that I needed to be near her all the time.
My family and friends, the ones that knew.
They said I was mad and that cat was a fad.
But for a time it was perfect and listening to cat purr on the roof as we snuggled and slept and awoke in the morning sharing the lovely warmth from each other is etched forever in my canine heart.
I was in love and happy and that was that, but what came between us was that she was a cat.
Maybe I always knew one day we would part.
We had little in common and she had sharp claws.
And I think sometimes things got a little lost in translation.
Why didn’t she understand?
I can’t think of a day when I don’t miss her more than the day before.
When I was a dog I fell in love with a cat.
And I learned what love is and what love was.
Now looking back it’s simple to write.
I was a dog in love with a cat.
And that Is that.


When I was a cat 2


When I was a cat I went out with a cat.
We would meet on roof tops I hated that.
He would bring me mice I hated that.
Sometimes when I was cleaning my whiskers I would feel his eyes and turn my back.
He hated that.
One day on the roof when I felt so alone.
And all I wanted to do was watch my dog with his bone.
One day when my eyes were full and gave me away.
My dog climbed To the roof and brought me a mouse!
I loved that.
My dog tasted my tears as they changed from winter to spring.
I loved that.

I loved him.


When I was a cat


When I was a Cat I fell in love with a Dog, we had to keep it quiet and we met on rooftops, he hated that.

I loved the way he chased his tail and I loved the way he watched me clean my whiskers when he thought I didn’t know.

Sometimes when I caught him a mouse he didn’t understand and I would pretend not to be upset.

When he was feeling ill I would know because his nose would be dry has he muzzled my ears.

When I was feeling low he would lick my face and know as he tasted my tears.

He would spend hours chewing a bone and I never understood why?

Sometimes I wanted to be alone and he pretended he wasn’t hurt.

When we had a play fight, I would lose my temper and scratch his nose.

He hated that.

He asked one day why I did it and I said because i’m a cat.

He hated that.

When we parted I was sad. I said I’m sure we can make it work.

He chased me up a tree.

I hated that.


Problem of a Nephilim

Must do weekly word....
Must do weekly word….

The day that the waters rose and I said goodbye to my friends as they discarded their drowning bodies, seemed like a thousand years ago. And it probably was.

Time has no meaning for an immortal, unless the immortal attaches love to it’s companion. The constraints and effects of time on an immortals loved one will be felt for an eternity of memory on the immortal oh so clever flood dodging Nephilim.

Each happy flowing vivid attached thought of your love, with her mortal life, to be followed by the memory of the draining life slowly sliding down the once beautiful mortal face.

The immortal, in this case.
Must learn not to attatch itself to anyone or thing. Unless it fancies feeling the complete heartbreak of losing a loved one, and forever remembering the feeling of being alone as you wake and ache along with your heart as you feel the space left by the one that completed your everlasting living.

Being immortal has to be extreme in it’s hurt, or it’s lonely path. Living without love forever seems a pointless path, a path set out by a selfish search to avoid the thing that will bring the life you wear meaning, that is to share.
And share.