November 16th

I am proud of my achievements thus far

but haunted by the failure scar

I am pleased with the response to my blogs

I am so over normal jobs

I am looking for a change of late

I am considered overweight

I am part of a unique duet

I am not easy to upset

I am the like a mute Bob Dylan

I am more like hero than like villain

I do not suffer fools gladly

I constantly underachieve badly

I am trying to correct all my wrongs

I am tying to find where my head belongs

I am constantly correcting semantics

I am obsessed with Facebook antics

I am still searching for my home

I am perpetually on my own

I am, after all, just a man

I am a huge Coldplay fan

I am looking to the future forthcoming

I am going to hit the ground running

November 15th

Each time I’m nearly there

Something else appears

For reasons that I’m unaware

Awaking sleeping fears

There’s no way that this far gone

That I can contemplate quitting

Trying to write, something’s wrong

Just staring, blankly sitting

I know you heard it all before

I know, to you, it not news

My enjoyment is becoming a chore

I’m afraid that I might lose

My days are spent not doing much

My mind is slowly numbing

I’m barely able to stay in touch

Not sure if going or coming

I’m clutching at next year’s straws

Will I stifle my new content?

In something else, I’ll sink my claws

Will I be able to literary invent?

I’ll attack my remaining days

With poise and positive thoughts

The epilogue to my rhyming ways

Will be my greatest retort

This year I will not fail

Grateful for all my haves

I’ve enjoyed my writing trail

This year was definitely Gav’s

November 14th

Abandoned, bereft and left for dead

Unwanted, unloved and feeling unread

Disowned disestablished and with disregard

Balance offset and caught off guard

Failing at being a lyricist

Book remains unfinished

I’ve stuttered and stopped with bad timing

Left strapped with obvious rhyming

Packed in, packed up and gone to bed

Like I’m in the Cool Running’s bobsled

I’ve collapsed and let down all defences

Left with only bad film references

I’m Daniel Son getting kicked in the shin

And limping out, before the win

I’m Maverick hanging from a noose

Hoping to join his dead friend goose

I’m the Goonies being shot in their bellies

After being caught be the bad Fratellis

But wait that’s not how those films end

I’ve still got some disbelief to suspend

I’m back in the ring after some rest

I’m flying again with the ‘best of the best’

I’m escaping from One eyed Willies cave

I’m sucking it up and being brave

I’m getting back my talent to rhyme

I’m picking up my sled and crossing the line

November 13th

My life is full goodness waiting to be great

My life has become complicated of late

My life is passing by, waiting to explode

My life is a journey; I’m still finding the road

My life is complex but I smile everyday

My life being me, has become passé

My life is still but I am moving

My life still needs a little proving

My life is balance and constant poise

My life is continual background noise

My life is struggling to be the right size

My life is planned with daily improvise

My life is coloured by family and friends

My life is open to anyone that attends

My life has become more defined

My life is constantly redesigned

My life is on a page for you scorn

My life is relentlessly being reborn

My life is judged and features torment

My life, the future isn’t for comment

My life is waiting for me to succeed

My life is here for you to read

November 12th

I’m trying my best to be released

My focus is being increased

I’m trying to excel in new found flow

I’m trying to learn what I don’t know

I find myself anticipating

The problems faced when I’m creating

To the converted I feel I’m preaching

As you are listening to my teaching

It’s confusing, making my words meet

But it’s so close to being complete

I’m trying my best to comply

To bring a tear to a glass eye

To be meaningful and full of emotion

In my first experience of devotion

My writing has taken over my days

Brain crumbles as eyes glaze

I struggle to set my words free

Released from being in captivity

But I’ve told you all this before

Every time I take the floor

But I’ll keep going the way I know

And see what happens in the Gav show

November 11th

This year I’ve had thinking time

My writing bell has had chance to chime

I only hope next year can be as creative

And that productivity is non evasive

I’ve stumbled as I’ve etched my plan

I have tagged with my wit spray can

I’ve struggled with my continuity

And plodded on with ambiguity

I’ve been pleasantly surprised by reaction

And a victim of over abstraction

But my readers, devoted and loyal

Have kept my kettle on the boil

As towards the end we daily creep

It’s time for my tiny mind to steep

Time to plot out the next project

Time to ponder and to reflect

To think of what to do next year

Do I carry on being word puppeteer?

This year I have certainly stirred the beast

And I find I’m creatively increased

I know my writing days aren’t over

Literary is figuratively my four leaf clover

November 10th

I don't not have the qualifications

I am not technical support

I answer to my dad's frustrations

to 'make work' the things he's bought

He'll quickly make his choice

That he can't get things to work

you can hear it in his voice

That he's seconds from going berserk

He doesn't buy new things that often

he's not known as overly frugal

Slowly we're starting to soften

His complete inability to google

I take care of him and his fragility

I'll answer all his questions

we will make real his compatibility

and back up all his possessions

Dave, you suffer from techno fear

Take it from people that know you

No worries, I'll always be here

To help you and to show you

I haven't heard from him in a while

it's been days with out interruption

perhaps he's sat down with a smile

and discovered a book of instructions

November 9th

The end of the year is nearing

And a new one straight up ahead

my mind is wildly careering

And thinking of next year instead

this is a Gav reaction

Impossible to multi task

a different dangled distraction

unable to wear the 'now' mask

Each day I'm getting better

growing with my ability

I've gone and become a go getter

Whilst expanding my creativity

I've done much more with this project

Than I ever thought possible

I'm still hopeful of the prospect

of others finding me rhetorical

I'm taking my new found word science

and approaching it whole hearted

In an act of personal defiance

I'm going to finish something I started

November 8th

too much time on my own

too much time to think

need to be led and shown

to find the next life link

too much time on my hands

too much time to wonder

too much time to make plans

as through my thoughts I plunder

too much time by myself

I've become a thought collator

things placed on 'to do' shelf

In the folder marked 'a bit later'

too much time to dwell

too much time to remember

too many stories to retell

to help me become a contender

too many doubts in my head

too many reasons why not

I should just get out of bed

make the most of the time I've got

Too many opportunities past

to see how far I've come

it's now my turn at last

to pick up the gauntlet and run

November 7th

I'll be so high when we touch down

A stranger in a familiar surround

I feel so sure before I'm there

That for you I cannot prepare

As we head of into greater climes

Living our lives in New York times

I want to relax but see it all

Engrossed embrace and enthral

High rise skyline amaze and attract

Once in a lifetime but hope to go back

I expect it to be surreal and sublime

Spending a week in New York times

The old and new perfectly combining

My minds horizon is realigning

I'll lap it all up as it happens

Absorbing all your beautiful patterns

My hopes and dreams intertwined

Looking towards my New York times

November 6th

A few weeks left and much foreboding

my patience is thin and brains imploding

style is rusting and words corroding

searching for a rhyme

I need some more things to happen

Or days will take a familiar pattern

I'm falling off the word band wagon

pushing for the line

Have I written something like this before

Too many words, my minds unsure

I’ve been poisoned and there's no cure

punished by my plight

Too far gone to go back now

Pick up pencil and positively plough

got to reach the end somehow

I can see the tunnels light

Feeling a little condescending

Search around for a happy ending

my mind is broke but sole is mending

It's good to get things out

I'm winding down from feeling wordy

reached a plateau that’s feeling sturdy

I was a par but now I'm a birdie

determined and devout

November 5th

I've chosen to leave my pod at home

and travel to work sans earphones

hearing every bus, car and bike

seeing what the world sounds like

the real world is overly hyped

with tedious pop, vacuously piped

a child screaming now and then

the continual drone of busy workmen

this is the dissonance of the world around

I'm reminded of actual surround sound

Its nice to listen to people quack

constant shuffle on today's soundtrack

the difference in women and blokes

ladies caring, men telling jokes

Let this act as an official docket

I'll keep my pod deep in pocket

And only listen to it when I had enough

Of people moaning about the usual stuff

I'll listen intently as talk resumes

Can you buy a conversation on I-tunes?

November 4th

no wonder we're getting fatter as a nation

With a Subway in every train station

McDonald's isn't confined to the highland

setting up on every inch of the Island

Wimpy eaters fate is sealed

With a benderumptious pork bendy bender meal

with so many options it impossible to duck it

Kfc selling chicken in a bucket

They mastered the art of biochemistry

And aided the speed of obesity

The world turns and continually frys

offering cheap food and free WiFi's

Fast food continues to please

A thin patty and some rubber cheese

With my salad I'm a happier me

And I made it larger for 30p

In the business world I'll go far

With my salad and lentil bar

November 3rd

from sweet dreams to a busy day

From school until time to play

hectic in that child like way

free from any trouble and care

his non stop zest and energy

are a joy for all to hear and see

remembering when we felt as free

playful, hopeful and unaware

He keeps us all on our toes

Doing things the way he knows

Our inner child is exposed

his purity is his glory

when his day's run out of dramas

and frantic play is getting calmer

it's time for bath time and pyjamas

and unwinding bedtime story

your growth it seems is getting speedy

hoping that you'll always need me

for our time I'm getting greedy

wanting growing up to delay

with a kiss, a whisper and a turned down light

Settled down snugly and said good night

tucked up in duvet so warm and tight

Sweet dreams from your busy day

November 2nd

Future future be good to me

The future I close my eyes and see

allow me to stop pretending

give hope of a happy ending

point me in the right direction

pick the best from the selection

drive the bus bound for success

Allowing me to balance redress

channel all my inner voices

to make the best of outer choices

Future future it's all in your hands

To etch out my life's plans

Dictate to me the path that’s mine

Teach me how to redefine

Put me out there on the market

Aim me at the biggest target

Future Future find my glory

Round off nicely my years story

November 1st

It's Friday night and I'm in the boozer

but on my own this winners a loser

The bar, the life, the atmosphere surround

doesn't mean as much with no friends around

the music, the vibe, the high society

only adds to my lonely anxiety

I'm joined by fella's also alone

Head in hands, hands on phone

Maybe they're regretting Fridays mistake

or maybe playing retrospective snake

whatever they doing, they're better of than me

I'm at the bar alone, writing poetry

They are freely passing the ready rub

and I'm writing all alone in a pub

This is a local for after work meetings

A place for friends with friendly greetings

A place for personality to thrive

A place where a poet can just survive

For my book they wait with anticipation

And my first reading will be down at the Station

October 31st

she bought me vodka to quench my desire

but it's only served to fuel my fire

She bought me vodka which she's never done before

and now she's chosen to explore

the darker side of lighter drinking

the smarter side of heavy thinking

She bought me vodka as a surprise

which will open up her eyes

she's taken to drinking it herself

and left the wine life on the shelf

She bought me vodka as a gift

to expose the flowing world of swift

and give her day a fruity lift

and fuse our growing drinking rift

She bought me vodka and mixers to drink

narrowing my aim to wider think

giving me more reasons to clink

and less liquid to pour down the sink

she bought me vodka the tasty kind

which is hard to get off my mind

and hard to turn an eye that's blind

a drink that's ferment refined

with that vodka in my freezer

It's hard to play the sober geezer

My mind finds it hard to compute

reasons not to drink raspberry absolute

She bought me vodka because she's a giver

with no respect for my liver

October 30th

I'm stuck today, my words ain't flowing

My internal spark isn't glowing

The wind through my head just isn't blowing

It's getting harder each day

My writing freedom has been taken

My mind takes time to awaken

My bending thoughts start to straighten

In the same old usual way

I'm struggling with what's in store

but pleased with all I've done before

My fun has become a chore

The enjoyment's been castaway

please ignore my personal disagreement

I'll keep on top of my achievement

And stray from possible bereavement

Just happy to have my say

So until I sell out my arena

Until the writing grass gets greener

Until I'm viewed as literary ballerina

I'll just go from day to day

October 29th

people have routines planned out in their head

Happy to be taken where ever they're led

unaware of their repetition crime

doing daily tasks at the same time

thrust into corporate society

duties carried out exactly, politely

never feeling need to make changes

thinking difference is fraught with dangers

but what would happen if you stood out

instead of whispers you begin to shout

You cast the first stone, make the first move

start dancing to your own groove

Interested in opinions but not negativity

concerned with empathy not with pity

discovering our similarities not differences

Gently voicing opinions not sitting on fences

Learning lessons from all situations

developing courtesy and inner patience

celebrating all victories no matter the size

opening ears and opening eyes

happy with living to what life affords

and acquisition of non monetary rewards

move from your doorstep to locally discover

realise that no one man is greater than any other

activate the things that mean something to you

benefit from beauty at full face value

You've got to chance it and make your move

And use each day to continually improve

October 28th

Most days spent poetry thinking

combined with copious coffee drinking

during my days of poetry blogging

I'm constantly internally monologuing

I've heard it's not good for your health

To over think too much to yourself

But if your reading my worry is offset

As you are here to aid and abet

If I spoke all my thoughts out loud

I'd be rushed away from the growing crowd

And left to dribble in an asylum

Or ferried back to Wight Island

I'm starting to fall out with me

And with myself disagree

So my readers please accept great thanks

As I'm struggling with cranium angst

For my previous ways I'm being chastised

But I can see the greater good, the bigger prize

I've dropped a stitch in my minds crochet

As thoughts are flicked into my minds ashtray

So I continue searching for each synonym

To keep my thoughts from inner deafening

As I'm conquering my day dedication

I'm longing for actual conversation

October 27th

So it's five years further down the line

and everything fits my life design

good job, happy house and wife

Settling down for the simple life

Money's no worry, financially sound

Heads in the clouds, feet on he ground

My writing's being published regularly

Poetry enjoyment is in ascendancy

Book picked up and sold well

I sold out to make the big sell

Our home, a cosy spacious cottage

With energy saving bulbs of low wattage

Full wine cellar, full pantry, full parlour

Got myself a landscape gardener

All family live in close proximity

A stocked up library to aid productivity

Earned so much money from my last exhibition

That I'm allowed Sky sports in high definition

In high demand so choose the work I do

If you don't have a dream, your dream can't come true

October 26th

Down the street and through the door

To a place I've been many times before

Formally a place where friends unwind

But a drinking companion is hard to find

Where 'we' had frequented Saturdays noon

It's now just 'I' to beer consume

Nights of frivolity flowingly filled

Good times spent much ale spilled

New years night and many evenings

Spent filling floors and raising ceilings

A lick of paint and chairs rearranged

Fails to disguise that nothings changed

Paying the price in Lonely Town

is purchasing a cheaper round

I'd have no problem in buying the beer

If I could have a few old friends here

Much time passed and many barrels changed

In my local pub feeling estranged

One seat, one place and one pint please

Struggling with Quiz machine expertise

I'm covering music and general knowledge

But suffering from a history haemorrhage

Lacking in quizzical self esteem

Not enough friends for a pub quiz team

Last question, shout out if you know it

Who's the guy on his own, trying to be a poet?

October 25th

In the drama studio of my senior school

I was propping up my fake cool

Our first exchange, an argument

Over your dodgy Scottish accent

We hit it off instantly

And got on easily

From register to leaving bell

People’s lives became a living hell

No one was excused from our ‘mick’ taking

Laughing til our bellies aching

We settled in to avoiding lessons

In the girls school delicatessens

We didn’t waste our years of teen

We borrowed the new fog machine

Convinced them we needed it as a prop

But then just turned it on and it didn’t stop

Somehow punishment was escaped

And our future had been shaped

We stop at nothing and no one

To make sure we had some fun

To college we were eventually lured

Thinking that we’d both matured

We collated our writing powers

What's yours was yours what’s mine was ours

We focused slightly on non-conformance

Producing our greatest performance

We has a great time digging our scene

I think about you every Halloween

And forever, at least in my eyes

You’ll be Morecombe, I’ll be Wise