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