August 6th

Come on London, inspire me

Be as great as I know you can be

Let the good, the great and the brilliant dictate

Surround me with the wonder you create

Make your streets so vibrant and pleasant

Appealing, revealing and incandescent

When I’m away, you are always missed

You are a shy and retiring exhibitionist

Pick me up and show me around

Your glory jewelled and history crowned

Once again for you I’m falling

Look out world, this is London calling

August 5th

Okay Britain, time to rise again

Reclaim our streets, take back out name

Prove once again to the mindless and hated

That we will not be violently dictated

The Britain I know isn't filled with disorder

It’s filled with great people from every corner

Let’s stick together and not let the majority

Be over run but the ignorant minority

Have great faith and do yourself a favour

Put yourself out and be a great neighbour

Make sure this doesn't grind you down

Be reminded of the goodness all around

Look at the people with wide diversities

Of various backgrounds and ethnicities

All bought together with one dedication

To put something back in to this great nation

Go out and be British, discuss the weather

Feel your community start coming together

Don't see a different colour or race

See a person; put a name to the face

When you leave the house put on a smile

Put some normality back in our lifestyle

Don’t let us be overrun by hate

Ninety nine per cent of the people are great

By trying harder we can all start achieving

Keep the faith and keep believing

Put the love back and get everyone smitten

Let’s put the great back into Great Britain

August 4th

I love you loads and I miss you more

As you’re coming in, I’m going out the door

I love the time we spend together

We have little time, but we can take forever

I love how your love just keeps on growing

Relentless, unconditional, constant, ongoing

Your control and compassion are never askew
As you allow me the strength to dream pursue
I love because an old lady told me
That ‘I’m the mountain and you are the valley’
I love you more as we are getting old
I love you because your feet are cold
You love me for reasons unknown
It must a dodgy hormone
You love me for better or worse
You love me now, but I loved you first
You love me now and I always want you to
As we live our lives a little impromptu
I love you and there will come a time
When our lives tessellate and forever entwine
I love you because you are always there
My continuous sweet loving affair
When the world throws up all its debris
It’ll be no match for you and me
I’ll love you every day as we get old
I love because your feet are cold

August 3rd

If you told me last year that I would be a writer

Or that our future would become brighter

If you’d suggested that we’d enjoy our time

And start to discover our prime

Then I’d have taken it with a pinch of salt

And added it into my minds vault

I’d have used it now in my hour of need

Whilst struggling on and trying to succeed

Who knows how things will turn

With every choice you have to learn

So now we are at the hump of the year

Things are just as far as are near

And as I writing this submission

We find ourselves in a great position

A new horizon is becoming

It’s up to us to face our reckoning

Start to define our choices

And externalise our inner voices

Time to combine our efforts and thoughts

Plan our journey and plot our course

With all this in mind I pose question rhetorical

Next year like this year, anything is possible

What’s past was great and the future is ours

To watch our seeds it blossoms and flowers

New start, new life and new career

Ask me how I’m feeling this time next year

August 2nd

The road is dusky and dimly lit

As we comfortably cruise or tailback sit

If I must driver seat reside

It’s always better with you by my side

Your driving skills my now be obsolete

But you always make my journey complete

And sometimes, when you are sleeping

I have the urge for gentle speeding

And although it speeds up a journey

It may also lead to needing an attorney

When I look across and see you there

Reclining in the passenger chair

Your eyes closing is an invitation

For me to lean across and change the radio station

Our conversations keep me going

And you can tell when my tiredness is showing

You make any journey a bit of a treat

With communal water and packet of sweets

And you know when you drive with Gav

There is no need for a Sat Nav

We know where we’re heading, there is no doubt

Is it straight on or left at this roundabout?

If you’re getting restless or feeling bored

I’ll take you to places unexplored

Whether pole to pole or around the equator

Promise to be my life navigator

And I’ll promise our journeys will never end

I’ll always drive you around the bend

August 1st

 I wonder if they care or knew

What it was I used to do

I used to perform in shows burlesque

But now I’m stuck behind a desk

I used to sing and do comedy, of sorts

But no more need for witty retorts

I used to have talent, a limited amount

But used it wisely to surmount

I used to get that fulfilled feeling

But now my work is unappealing

I used to work for claps and cheers

But now I’ve muted my ideas

I had ready wit and repartee

But that’s now in my memory

I enjoy my work once upon a when

And I’m sure that time will come again

A great time was had, of that I’d ensure

But you have to grow up and mature

With the work I do I’ll learn to have fun

You don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone

July 31st

I’ve be asked to settle Simon Le Bon’s bill

Been ask to discount Maggie Smiths meal

I’ve stored Mark Cavendish’s bike

And Paloma Faith was hard not to like

Eamon Holmes and his new wife

Were full of beans and full of life

We had Russell Watson and a Scottish M.P

Charlie Brooker and his Mrs., Konnie

Bobby Charlton told us was quite polite

But didn’t want to stay on an industrial site

But of all the celebs, big and little

My favourite of all is Ricky Whittle

July 30th

More writing done than I ever thought

More words learnt and lessons taught

More complimentary encouragement

More emails read and twice as many sent

More smiles and thinking ‘I can do that’

More CV’s falling on more doormats

More grabbing life by the scruff

More being told it’s not quite good enough

More mistakes both good and bad

More missing the things I’ve had

More questioning and wondering how

More time spent living for now 

July 29th

You told me that I can do so much more

But this is already further than I’ve gone before

This year as I’ve already instructed

I’ve written more, been more productive

I’d never published anything before

Never kept note or kept score

Never before sketched out my thoughts

Never kept a list of brain retorts

It’s the first time that I’ve been driven

On the genius switch there’s no off position

I can’t stop myself from writing things

From conjuring rhymes from what the day brings

I’m normally one who is abnormally lazy

Which is why at first, this was a little crazy

To write down my thoughts in diary form

But now it’s raining down a brain storm

I’m trying to control my new found work

It’s all happening at once, going berserk

I’m overwhelmed at being a book nerd

That’s written forty thousand words

Which when I started was beyond imagination

And now I’ve passed the half way station

So I’m now doing something with my time

This is the reason behind my rhyme

I’ll try my best at doing much more

But it’s already further than I’ve gone before

July 28th

Suddenly everything else is more important

Whilst I’m looking for rhyming reinforcement

I cannot focus or realign my mind

Days are on fast forward but I’m in rewind

I fighting hard to keep inspiration

During my writers assimilation

Instead of sitting down and being absorbed

Into writing of memories filed and stored

I find myself doing something else instead

Like flicking through TV or the worldwide web

I’ve re-alphabetised my CD collection

And studied the basic laws of convection

I’ve polished laced and cleaned my shoes

As the written word fails to enthuse

I’ve cleaned the oven and washed up crockery

I’ve designed my own rock and roll rockery

I need to get the chimney re-pointed

As my written word has become disjointed

Before my day is recalled fully

I need to take the bobbles of off anything woolly

I cleaned food cupboard and stacked tins neatly

Whilst ignoring my written work indiscreetly

I need to get back in the writers mindset

And press my alt control and delete to reset

I’ll take back the mantle and the onus

And reap the benefits of my idle bonus

July 27th

Please excuse my written frustration

And allow for artistic interpretation

I’m not going through my own depression

I’m just looking for a little expression

Thanks for your concern, and it’s not your fault

Just take everything with a pinch of salt

The written word plays the most powerful role

And it’s true that frustration is good for the soul

Things are never as bad for me

With the knowledge of love unconditionally

You’re reading my words as I’m writing

This is, actually for me, terribly exciting

Even with my brain I’m still ill-equipped

And often ignore self censorship

I’m simply trying to describe my day

In a more dramatically entertaining way

It would detract and enjoyment prevent

If I wrote down the actual daily events

For example if it’s been a quiet day

Then I need to use words to overplay

If work trundles along as it should

Then it induces boredom, which is never good

Just as the devil makes work for idle thumbs

I sift around my brain for figurative crumbs

So please excuse me for writer’s frustration

I’m just starting my poet’s acculturation

July 26th

Picked up a pencil and got back in the zone

Switched off laptop, WiFi, telly and phone

This started off well but it’s beginning to spoil

Thrown in to linguisticated turmoil 

It’s time to get back in the saddle

But I’m up a creek without a paddle

I’m out of the frying pan and into the fire

Then things, once more, begin to inspire

The fact I can reflect on times I’ve had

Make me realise things are never that bad

And what kind of poet would I be

If I didn’t pick up on personal agony

Not that I’ve had too much dismay

Never had a cause to strongly convey

I try to be good pure and pleasant

Live for the now, no time like the present

If normality is what we strive for

Then I don’t want to be normal anymore

This isn’t a year of trouble and stress

This is just a year of indecisiveness

What do you do when you just don’t know?

Keep saying yes and go with the flow

How important will you be to the world?

Jot it down be your own herald

Whichever way you choose to live

Make sure not to forget but to forgive

July 25th

Please pay attention to my latest subject

And understand it’s a tangible object

I’ll try to convey with my best linguistics

It’s an actual thing, not in the least euphemistic

Lisa Ellson had a pencil case when we were at school

The envy of the table, we all thought was very cool

A regular looking case, no one would have guessed

But she showed me what it did under the desk

It was oblong in shape and in colour a beigey brown

But buttons were revealed when you pulled a flap down

The compartments on it held a veritable feast

And when shown to me, my school work ceased

At the back of the class out of teachers view

We had some scissors paper and glue

And so, I think, we made some planes

A clapper and some paper chains

And with a fold and some tear abuse

A Paper daisy and an A4 moose

Oh and a scale model of the city of Naples

Made with Blu-Tac and some staples

Here’s a harbour full with boats

Crafted purely from post it notes

I wonder if her memories can place

What she did with that magic pencil case

July 24th

Things I love about Darren Ali
That he’s not a Mackem but a regular Geordie
He’s a passionate knowledgeable free thinker
Pretty good talker, pretty good drinker
A real companion with strong ideals
But self-deprecating which strongly appeals
He is widely travelled so worldly wise
He’s one of my favourite and closest Ali-es
A third millennium guy unique and urbane
Who wakes me up when I sleep on the train
He’s a new but really good friend to me
And now my only contact at Wembley

July 23rd

Me and a tourist and a random child
All sat on the statue of Oscar Wilde
Three people from different parts of the world
A grown up a local and a little girl
What has brought us together on Adelaide Street?
What chance that us, three strangers would meet?
A lovely time as photo’s are taken
My poetry cells are reawaken
We’d never met before and never will again
Humans bought together happy and humane
It’s good to be here and to be free
The tourist the child and me

July 22nd

The beautiful boys invited me out drinking
A lovely thought but what was I thinking?
The act of consumption and mixing I was aware
But the conversation and patter I was under prepared
Did we talk like this, back in the day?
Jibes about mothers and about being gay
I’d like to say we were a lot more liberal
More accepting open and fully convivial
We would discuss greater things when boozing
About Marxism and the ability of choosing
But thinking about it, as a rule of thumb
Most sentences ended with Yeah, your Mum!
I don’t think we ever went out on the pull
We played billiards played jokes and played the fool
We discussed the possibilities of dreams being real
And about how they first discovered cochineal
How to home make wine was a heavy feature
But then I did go drinking with my science teacher
With Poker, Subbuteo and pizza our time we’d fill
Watching Laurel and Hardy and talking Vaudeville
These things gave us our delirium
But they have no place in the third millennium
These memories are for me and are mentally stored
They are not pertinent, in the now, in Guildford
Thank you lads, for the beautiful offer
You have not gone unnoticed by this biographer

July 21st

I’m thirty two years old and I was bullied yesterday
In an aggressive thuggish cockney way
They seemed to be angry about nothing at all
Shouting swearily during a game of football
I didn’t think this kind of man existed
It seemed that evolution had fully resisted
These men lack that certain inner beauty
They were like characters from a Guy Ritchie movie
They were scary men with tattoos to match
Will did well to escape with all limbs attached
Maybe it was a show of brotherhood
Maybe they are just misunderstood
They were gentlemen who were big and strong
And society had somehow done them wrong
Then the ball came to me and I started running
Managed to avoid one tackle incoming
I was proud of myself but all too late
Got clouted from behind by his Tyson-like mate
I came away with a scrape on my knee
And worrying looks from the referee
In my mantra everyone get two chances
So I brushed off myself and his furious glances
The next time I got the ball, I tried to run again
Played the ball around then he did the same
His grunts and moans were his verbosity
I’m sure he’ll be pleased to be the subject of poetry

July 20th

Out of the flat and back into town
Turning left instead of the right way round
To grab a coffee in someplace new
All the time thinking, it’s what Tom would do
If you don’t know Tom, here’s what you’re missing
Tom spends his life in the genius position
Tom is light and a focused chance taker
Cooler than cool, no greater ice breaker
Tom is a super human, of an organic species
He works hard at making it look easy
Tom is a strong confident life go getter
When you’re with Tom you want to do better
Tom isn’t just about the bouncy side
He is deeper and sweeter and can fully confide
Empathy and understanding and a little show
Where ever you are there’s someone he knows
When you’re friends with someone for fifteen years
And you think of all the tea, coffee and beers
You realise that you are the lucky one
No greater great or funner fun
He’ll have something positive and everyday impress
He encourages me more and inspires no less
There is no pretence about what he is
Which wasn’t always popular when we were kids
Its all taken in his stride, he’s always able to relate
Tom is just Tom, and I miss you daily mate