for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 290 (A)

YES-AN-ALBATROSS-LADY
She was the albatross around my neck.
I could not take much more.
The girl hammered her fists against my chest
so I pusher her. She fell to the floor.
There she lay down on the deck.
Her arms spread out like a cross,
the girl who was ever round my neck,
the lady albatross, yes the lady albatross.
Oh now she would be a martyr.
Of this I'd not hear the last.
She'd tell her friends for a starter,
and probably with an added twist.
Go tell the world I said, go tell all.
Hammer your fists against my chest
when you rise from the push and fall,
but this relationship is now laid to rest
(I would no longer argue the coin's toss
with she, a lady albatross).

YES-WILD-KITTY'S-LONESOME-
DEADWOOD-GRAVE
Kitty Le Roy met her end
in the Lone Star saloon.
In bed with a 'friend'
she danced to his tune.
Sam Hurley, gun in hand,
crept into the room.
Kitty the jig-dancer
was a well-known whore.
Sam, her furious romancer,
left two bodies on the floor.
Jealousy creeps like a cancer
whether sex is free or paid-for.

A SORT OF SANTA'S GROTTO ?
It was down in The Grotto bar,
beneath the Coatham Hotel
that the smoke from cigarettes
had a heady smell
cut-through by a jukebox David
like the Bowie Knife,
or by the voice of Bolan
upon a swan of white,
or of Bryan Ferry
with his seductive croon
that carried the young ladies
to Paris or the moon.

Yes down in The Grotto bar
some would call a dive -
the jazz club above
later to come alive -
we'd start out the evening
that ended with a wild jive.

LONG LOOK BACK
She looked for a tall dark handsome stranger,
why did I not say "I'm the one for you ?"
Perhaps it was just my modesty ?
The girl leapt aboard the bus number sixty-two.
Many a line of verse ran through my head,
yet to this poet's lips they went unknown.
I mouthed a quite goodbye to the beauty
who caught my very last poem home.

for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 289 (F)

A-SLEEPLESS-SHE-SHARK
And so she swims
with the many sharks,
the pimps, the pushers.
Had a poster of Howard Marks.

"They were nice to me
at first," she says,
"but now I'm the one
who pays and pays.

Behind the smiles
lie sharp the teeth
that sink well in,
drag you beneath.

There's no getting out
when you're down deep.
I am up all night.
Find I just can't sleep."

OLD-WIVES'-TALES-VERSE ?
They say that sharks
don't really kill,
it's fish-wife tales
that linger still,
but then go say
that in the deep
sharks can attack you
while in their sleep !
Oh save us, save us all
from the quacks.
From egghead experts
cuckoo brains shall hatch !!

TO A WAIST DOWN
NAKED AM I
Long and slender as a mast,
veins knotted like a cat-o'-nine,
naked down to the waist,
I drink in the brine.
Jaunty as a jolly Jack Tar
I seek a good time.

The ladies see me swagger
while men cry "It's a crime."
But naked down to the waist
with no sun to shine,
bare below the navel-button
I seek a good time.

Long and slender as a mast,
veins knotted like a cat-o'-nine,
I'm naked down to the very waist,
my shirt is on the washing line.
Now sick as a pirate's parrot
I seek a good time.

BY HELEN'S BEAUTY
A BOY'S HEART BREAKS
Hot on the heels of Helen,
for her burns the zealous boy,
aflame is the city of his heart
like another Troy.

Hot on the heels of Helen
he yearns for the dear lips
of the young reborn queen
whose face launched
a thousand ships.

Hot on the heels of Helen,
for her burns the zealous boy.
Razed unto a ruin,
how beauty can destroy.

for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 289 (E)

REQUEST AS TO CREMATED REMAINS
The old chocolate factory worker
was finally to pop his socks.
"Cremation," had been his call,
"ashes place in a chocolate-box.
Yes ashes place in a chocolate-box
and send to my dear ex-wife.
The woman was a damn fiery sort
all our flaming wedded life !"

OLD AND TYRED
For a new model
he wished to trade his wife
(emphasis on 'model').
That'd be the life.

He would make do
with rusty old she.
She would make do
with old-wreck he !

DEEPLY JEALOUS JILL
Her jealousy crept like a cancer,
like a crab into a foggy sea,
only to be lost and find no answer
to the question of such jealousy.

Oh how she felt the pincers
and wanted him to feel hurt too.
Get away would not her mister
as the storm inside her grew.

A-PORT-BANGOK-PIRATE-
GIRL-MAYBE ?
She sailed into port
inside her canoe,
monkey on shoulder,
on bared-back a tattoo.
Find no green parrot
just a white cockatoo
was perched up front
of the Thai-beauty's canoe.

Yes sailed into port -
Bangkok City within -
a pirate or gypsy-girl
who set my head swimming.

A-COMICAL-CAPERING-YES
I went to a cartoon of a party.
Yes it was comic but also dandy.
On his own was little Lord Snooty,
while looking through keyholes caught was Katy.
I came across the cat called Korky,
and Denis the Menace was being naughty.

Yes I went to a cartoon of a party.
Desperate Dan ate cow-pies heartily.
Biffo the Bear bristled all hairy
at Denis the Menace being naughty,
and Pansy Potter, too, got a bit iffy.
They took him outside. It was over in a jiffy.
I was not going to cause a scene, so
I sat down in a corner and read the Beano.

for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 289 (D)

DOING THE MATHS
The bar-girl had five foreign men
whom their money would send
for a child they thought was theirs.
"Five fathers," the girl would grin,
counting the cash coming in.
She still worked the Siam bars.
Pull beers and bedfellows the bar-girls can
over in what is now Thailand,
and might make quite a hefty sum.
It is not the men she was numbering
but the pounds and dollars rolling in.
She obviously thought maths such fun !

THE KNOWER
"Find we're all performers
in a life-long play.
Some of us know our roles,
others struggle day to day.

This is what the wise-man
had then got to say:
"Yet it is not a breeze
when you do know the way."

THE SUNNY DAYDREAMS
You are beautiful
 as the butterfly
upon the red rose
that catches my eye.

You are beautiful
in sweet memory
as the cherry-blossom
that attracts the bee,

and like the busy bee
you are beautiful
who honey the dreams
here in my skull.

SAD-FOR-A-FAST-FADING-SUMMETIME
It is getting colder by the day,
the blue sky is turning to grey,
the wind and rain on their way,
both with a more often stay.

Birds will flee thick as thieves,
and leave the trees the leaves.
Out will come longer sleeves
as for the summer my heart grieves.

A DARK HORSE MEADOW
Raven hair to match
her mount's coal-black hide,
there in the green meadow
see the girl gypsy ride.

Romany youths all want her,
but she's not for the taking,
at one with her steed
the wild gypsy's not for breaking.

Were the youths to know
just how long she has ridden,
or know of the secret
she has ever kept hidden,

would they understand ?
Or yet could they ?
Break horses and hearts,
while tame her ? There was no way.

A CLEAR TEAR
The day's-eye daisy
has opened up.
The clear-dawn-dew
in her eye's cup
is so like a tear...
so like a teardrop.

A BEAUTIFUL BEYOND
The girl sits by the golden flowers
and builds ivory towers,
while kites with their streamers
fly in the sun
and the children run.
She's one of the beautiful dreamers.

The man lies back in his boat,
watches the white clouds float
like smoke from old paddle-steamers,
drifts free from the fast pace
of the whole human race.
He's one of the beautiful dreamers.

The children are running
and yet still sunning
are the two dreamers.
In shadow the children run
as their kites block out the very sun
like the world beyond the two dreamers.

KATE THE KITE
"Kate is a kite,
light-headed, light, light..."
all the kids go sing
to the poor dizzy-thing.
She isn't too bright,
ribbon hung like string.
Did you hear her say
"Please God fly me away" ?

IT'S-A-GREY-SPLATTER-
MATTER
Living in a tenement on high,
thought he'd leap aboard the next cloud,
the guy,
and sail far, far away,
from the city he found grey.
But he missed the next cloud,
only to lie very much splattered.
Find that was the end of that.
To so few folk it mattered.

A BEEPING BARRACKS PARSON
Beep beep beep, beep beep beep,
"The road here is blocked by sheep !"
cried out the man sat in the jeep.
He was a Yorkshire army-parson,
The Lord his shepherd, but - by gum -
the man was sure heard to swear some.
Being one of his Lord's sheep,
shouldn't he 'baa' and not 'beep' ?!

A-FORECASTING-FEMALE-IN-
FREEZING-COLD-WINTERTIME
A spellbinder is she,
a caster of dreamy spells
amongst the fairy glens,
amongst the fairy dells.

A white witch of winter
who sees and foretells,
just like a mystic-gypsy,
of heavens and hells.

And what shall we find
by springtime and bluebells ?
Not to know the future
has often served us well.

SO-LATE FIRST-AND-FINAL DATE
The rose I gave her withered,
the soft chocolates in their box
the girl was to leave uneaten.
They turned as hard as rocks.
These happened within an hour
of our first, our only date.
The evening was still so young,
but find it sure felt very-late.

for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 289 (C)

IT'S-A-DUO'S-HEATED-HEARTS
From a block of ice
he is thawed.
Brought back to life,
a youth unflawed.

For a hundred years
was frozen he.
Frozen at the age
of twenty-three.

Twenty-three also
is the pretty-girl
he will then meet
in this new world.

Is he far too old ?
Is she sure too young ?
A hundred-and-twenty-three
but still handsome.

Perhaps it will be -
despite warm hearts -
their two minds will say
"We are worlds apart" ?

TWO HEADS BETTER THAN ONE ?
"Hi, I'm your local god.
Dropped down to say hello.
Last time I journeyed here
was two-thousand-years ago.

Yes I have twin-heads,"
said the man from space.
"I prefer talking to myself
and not the human race.

Look at how time flies.
I guess I've got to go.
Fare you well strangers,
till next I say hello."

JUST THE JOURNEYMAN
WAS JOE
They said that old Joe
was nothing but a hobo,
American for tramp.
He sure was no boho,
short for bohemian, y'know.
But yes a freeway scamp.
The freeway, the highway,
the roadway bum.
A truck along tumbleweed,
trucking, tumbling on.

They said that old Joe
was far from a boho,
and far away from town.
Nothing about him artistic,
being far too realistic,
too real to settle down.
Just a journeying hobo,
not a travelling boho
lost in his art.
Just a journeying hobo,
not a travelling boho.
Spied a town, quickly to part.

for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 289 (B)

IT'S SPRIGHTLY SUMMER AND
A WEARY WINTER
Outside my window
blows a breeze
through the leaves
upon the trees.
The sun smiles
down on the park
as will the moon
after dark.

Yes outside my window
a breeze blows.
Will fall the rains,
will fall the snows,
the back-of-year sun
lose its glow,
for Time's sure swift
on his toes,

though in the winter
drags his feet
come the hard rains
or the heavy sleet.
But now the breeze,
the sun on park,
the leaves on show,
does my road greet.

A FOXY-FEMALE CHASER
I WAS NOT
A flame-haired fox
set my soul afire,
had my heart racing
with burning desire,
sure like a huntsman
on a vixen's track,
so like a horseman
with a hound-pack.

Yes a flame-haired fox
set my soul afire,
but for the very chase
I'd not the desire.

for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 289 (A)

MISTRESS OR WIFE, JIM LAD ?
The girl on the griffin's back
through the dark sky went soar.
Below her, on a long dirt track,
winding his way to a sandy shore,
journeyed the boy hard to keep,
the lover of the lashing-waves.
The boy whose mistress was the deep.
The boy who'd make the sea his grave.
No spell of hers could hold him,
and beauty was her greatest spell.
No spell was to hold young Jim
who'd made a wish by a wishing-well
when still in the village school.
He'd wished to sail the high-seas,
be under Mistress Ocean's rule.
Under a witch-queen's thumb he'd be
were he to stay put at her side,
and so Jim journeyed the long track,
the sea his mistress, not his bride
the girl on the griffin's back.

A PERMITTED PRECOGNITION
"The future I foresee
when the spirits permit,
though not my own future,"
said the ageing hermit.

"No not my own future,
but I see what's in store
when the spirits permit,
and open wide the door

or open my mind's eye
to what may well be.
Many men just so blind.
Some see, some foresee."

A FLY-FOLK TO VERY FAR
FROM HERE INVADERS
A fear of flying-saucers ?
Of beings part-man part-octopus ?
Fly-swatters in their tentacles
here to bash the lot of us ?

Invaders from outer-space,
beings who are more advanced.
Seeing us as boils on the earth,
each one of us to be lanced ?

We must seem quite alien,
we really are a strange lot.
Perhaps only a trifle better
than the flies that we swat ?

for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 288 (H)

THE KNIFE ANGEL
Angel of the North,
meet the Angel of Knives.
Find it's been brought forth
that it might save some lives.

A STRAIGHT EROS'S ARROW
I served up the meal,
I poured out the wine.
I cooked her a treat.
She was treated fine.

Straight as an arrow
I was feeling erotic,
my Thai-girl guest
was damn sure exotic.

She'd not tasted wine,
to her it was very-new.
Heady as I her host,
off her clothes she threw !

She stood in a thong.
Yes she stood in a thong.
Do the cooking right,
get to cook all night long !

NOT A PLAYING-CARD JOKER
IN SIGHT
There's a running riot,
the police can't keep pace.
There're running rioters,
cops with truncheons and Mace.
It's there on the Tv-News,
right up in your face.
Yes it's a running riot,
rioters winning the race.

There's a running riot.
It runs all over the place.
It runs with such a fury
the police go lose pace.
Some cheer the mob on,
some say it's a disgrace.
A pack of cards is flying,
of the joker just no trace.

for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 288 (G)

A VOYAGING VERSE-POET
I worked down a mine
and for a steel company.
I edited a magazine
in a seaside community.
I worked at the Post Office
after a chocolate factory.
I'd taught Creative Writing
(in a city the last three).
I taught English Language
in a far Eastern country.
Wrote for a publication there.
Aided the son of an MP
who was in private care.
Then taught English voluntarily
(the last two back here).
Many folk, many a celebrity,
has this poet now met.
Many a place do I journey,
a sailor with his sails set
for a wind blowing free.

For MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 288 (F)

A GOOD TIME ALL ROUND
Not a girl in every port
but his every girl in one.
And each of them he sought
when back from the big pond.
A sailor-boy, oh a sailor-boy
of all of them so fond.
Each his pride, each his joy.
Each his crew just on land.
All were known to each other.
All his Thai-girls did not care.
Each might take another lover
when the sailor-boy wasn't there.
What was it about the guy
had the girls run to him ?
Unspent money and good looks,
many a worldly-tale to spin.

A-FULLY-FLOWERED-SMILE-
FROM-OLD-SIAM
Her face amongst sunflowers
had an equally sunny smile.
She shone for the photograph
her hair up in a cute pile.

Very pretty, so very pretty,
my Thai-girlfriend had style.
A sunflower field, not the city.
Not the city by many a mile.

A-VERY-MURDEROUS-
GRAVE-ROBBING-PAIR-
HUNG-DAMN-HIGH
Burke was a berk,
he forgot his spade.
Hare dashed off
away from the grave
to fetch the spade
that Burke forgot.
Dig up that body
before it went rot.
Body snatchers both,
corpses sold they
to any fool doctor
who'd willingly pay.
To any researcher
or any Frankenstein.
Hare dashed back
in the nick of time.
Burke being a berk
was now fast asleep.
His snores were loud,
breath heavy and deep.
Birds in the trees
began to unsettle.
Mice in the grass,
rats in the nettles
ran there and here,
ran here and there.
Ran across the path
of Burke and Hare.
Hare awoke Burke
and whispered "Hush.
Could be a bobby
beyond any bush."
"We'd not want that,"
Burke was to reply,
"let's make a start,
or hang me high."

From MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP No. 144 circulated 20/9/2019

I received a postcard from pop poet Brian Patten and I met punk poet John Cooper Clarke outside my home, in Saltburn. I also met another writer of poetry, the comic Spike Milligan, who sometimes visited my next-door neighbour on Glenside with his agent, Norma Farnes. However, it was Spike's pal the Prince of Wales (Charles) who sent me a letter of gratitude when I supported his views over climate change, in 1989, when the media and many MPs, Tory and Labour, were calling him "Cuckoo", as to the 0-Zone Layer, in a piece I published in charity mag E.T., at the old Chambers of Commerce in Middlesbrough. The Evening Gazette did a story on this. I'd been in the press before as to Brian, and many verses of mine were later published in the Evening Gazette via Dr Andrew Croft of NOTICEBOARD. The poet Philip Larkin had been concerned as to the loss of our natural surroundings many years before, and rock bands in the early-to-mid 70s sang about pollution. Black Sabbath had 'Hole in the Sky', Deep Purple had 'No No No', Rainbow had 'Run with the Wolf'. Thin Lizzy had 'Mama Nature Said'. Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon concept/story album was about madness, not space travel, caused by the environment. 'Lunacy' derived from 'lunar', the moon. Brian Jones was the founder of the Rolling Stones. Their name was taken from an old song called 'Rolling Stone Blues'. He was found dead in his swimming pool. On their psychedelic album Their Satanic Majesties' Request, features the track 'Citadel' with dollar bills flying as flags. Indeed, we've been concreting over the countryside, too busy trying to earn a living or make more money. In Purple's song 'Woman From Tokyo', Ian Gillan sings of the garden he and his girl love, inside her concrete city of lights. Let us not start demolishing parks to build houses and green belts to expand our towns. Surely the earth, the ground, needs to breathe too, and wild animals need places to live and feed. Captain Mark