An Ode to the Alpenstock.

Now that winter is here I notice a lot of people in my home town feel safer walking and using an alpenstock. If that includes your good self then this poem is for you.

Oh alpenstock, oh alpenstock
Oh mighty mountain climbing stick.
Did you ever think you’d be used
When a frost just a millimetre thick
Has dusted the pavement of my town
With an icing like white glaze.
Which is already starting to melt
In the dawn suns early haze.

Oh alpenstock, oh alpenstock
OnceĀ  seen only in the alps.
But now by the urban commuter
You are more used to help.
As they walk slowly to the bus
Or step up a small kerb,
Brandishing you proudly
But looking quite absurd.

Oh alpenstock, oh alpenstock
Once used to traverse glaciers.
Now your appearance
Only causes laughter.
I long to grab you all
As to your users you’re no help
And release you back in
Your real home, the Alps.

Odd Thoughts on a Tuesday

I blame my intake of Soundgarden for this poem..

If there is one thing that I’m learning
It’s that as my body’s burning
I had so much to do I just left.

But there is certainly no fooling
As my ashes are cooling
That its far too late for regret.

And there is no point in bawling
As the Devil is calling
Me for our appointment.

And I’ll spit in the Devil’s eye
And ask myself why
Didn’t I check the small print.

And the Devil she just smiles
And says she gone the extra mile
When preparing my eternal torment.

But at the Devil I’ll smile not curse
And say this is hardly worse
Than the life I have just left.

I Read the News Today , Oh Boy !

Based on the contents of todays Metro newspaper

Leona Lewis on the front page
Commenting about road rage.
Underneath if you drink and drive
You could soon be banned for life.
At the mascot school on page 3
You can be a doll convincingly.
Online terrorists target Paypal
Last night a months worth of rain fell.
Ooh graphic novels on page thirteen
That’s a pleasant sight to see.
Locked up for sex in a taxi cab
And Lindsey Lohan still seems mad.
One in five people swear every day
Fuckin A to that I say.
Insane Black Friday shopping day
Or buy the Olympic torch for 50K.
More Graphic novels reviews
Plus Italian lager is profitable booze.
Nothing left but unfunny cartoons
And I never read the sport news.

The Face Behind the Scooby-Doo Mask

My trembling hand removes your disguise
And you stand revealed before my eyes.
The face behind the Scooby- Doo mask
The villan revealed at long last…


That of my former high school teacher
The verbal bruiser and beater.
Your sentence will be I do decree
To be told ” could do better, ” constantly.

Or will I find….

The face of my old church minister
Who thought all I liked evil and sinister.
This will be your sentence I insist
You have to prove to me god exists.

But I could find….

My own face staring back at me
Who is basically just plain lazy.
My sentence for being an idle lout
Is to finally sort yourself out !


I’ve been debating with myself about putting this poem up on the blog because of its content and what it says about me. I mean I don’t normally write what I call “angst ” or ” a cry for help ” poetry but recently with my mercurial mood I find my pen turning to topics like this so here it is for better or worse.

Doc Martin Boots Crisis

Punctured Doc Martin
Like my enthusiasm
Slowly deflate
Until we both
Feel heavy
And useless
And need


Oh my faithful Doc Martin boot
It seems this English weather.
Has been so very wearing
Upon your souls and leather.

A Lazy Monday

I know its bonfire night and I should write a poem to celebrate this but I wrote one last year and I’m feeling far too lazy to attempt another until next year.

Because it’s a brain fog Monday
A nasty neural malaise
That just won’t go away
I’m left confused and dazed.

I feel like I’ve slipped down
A crack in the universe
And like a dusty old coin
I patiently just wait
For someone to pull me back
Into the real world
Hoping I don’t disappoint
And that I’m not put back
Down the side of the sofa
To languish unloved.