The End of the Day by Pamela Archer, read by Richard Archer

Recently the Walsall Poetry Society donated the first money raised from the charity anthology I edited and compiled entitled “Diverse Verse” to the Mayor of Walsall’s selected charity. At the event I chose to read one of my mom’s poems from the book called “End of the Day.”

I didn’t realise at the time someone was videoing the performances, so here I am in.

Here’s a pic of me with the Mayor.

Richard Archer with the Mayor of Walsall


On Arriving Home and Contemplating a Weeks Leave

I kick my shoes into the porch corner
Then let my feet sink into the carpet.
Dropping my work bag in a forgettable corner
I hang my office pass on a door handle.
My iPod gets docked
My Phone gets switched off and placed on charge.
Finally I flop down in my favourite armchair.

I inhale.
Holding my breath
I count to ten before exhaling.
Repeating until
My erratic
Fast beating heart
Softly and silently slows to a slothful state.

Ignoring a list of urgent jobs
I contemplate a cigarette
But can’t be bothered to reach for the lighter.
My tension evaporates
As my body melts into my chair
So much to do, so I prioritise
And contentedly snooze.


And relax, I’m on a weeks leave but not from this site.

The Cautionary Tale of Little Ben


Little Ben should have paid more attention,
When he was alone in detention.
Then he would never have been laid low,
From behind by a deadly ladle blow.

You see because of savage cuts to funds,
His canteen had nothing to serve but crumbs.
So if the meals were going to continue,
Little Ben had to go on to the menu.

So Ben became sausages and pies,
Milkshakes were flavoured with his eyes.
Cuts of him in pickle were preserved,
While his kneecaps with custard were served.

His tongue was very neatly removed,
Then used to garnish a tasty stew.
His kidneys became taramasalata,
While his toes were turned into chipolatas.

His feet were deep-fried in his socks,
Then his buttocks made into divine chops.
His calves were basted in organic cider,
While his fingernails became appetizers.

So don’t be like little Ben, pay attention,
If you’re left alone in detention.
Then quickly home you can run,
Perhaps to become a vegetarian?



Jessica’s Doll

I’m pleased to announce that I have written a poem which will appear in the soon to be released horror film “Jessica’s Doll” by Walsall film director Andy Simon.

Jessicas Doll Movie Poster

Here’s the film’s chilling plot taken from its Facebook page.

Jessica’s Doll is about a young Girl called Jessica, an orphan and homeless girl who’s only friend is her Doll (Also named Jessica)

Lost and homeless, walking the streets, she comes across her childhood home, and takes shelter inside from a thunderstorm.

She heads to the Cellar and discovers a chest and hides inside away from the storm. The lid closes, the lock clicks, and there she is trapped.

She has one last wish before all the air is used up, before she dies. She wishes she could become a doll like her own…

Here’s the poem which I composed for the start of the movie taken from the introduction Andy had written for the film and turned by him into the excellent picture below. Click to enlarge.

In the film itself the poem is read by Andy’s talented daughter Anya, who also composed the movie’s soundtrack as well.

poem revised final

You can find more about this exciting film on the soon to be launched website here

Or get the latest news via the film’s Facebook page here.

Or follow the film on Twitter here.

I’d just like to take this chance to say massive thanks to Andy for letting me work with him and I hope the film does well – I’ve seen a clip there’s no doubt in my mind that it will.

The Dirty Dozen… with Liesbet Collaert

If your just digesting your lunch or getting up for breakfast, enjoy another scintillating interview from Al

A Certain Point of View

Welcome to another edition of The Dirty Dozen!

This week, I’m delighted to be hosting Liesbet Collaert in the Dirty Dozen “hotseat”.

Liesbet is a blogger, writer and world citizen, currently (quite literally) flying back to the USA after a short visit to Belgium in between global adventures! You can find out more about her travels and her fascinating life in today’s interview HERE!

The Dirty Dozen

View original post

Dreams of a Stuffed Toy Dog

Rufus the Dancing Dog

What do stuffed toy dogs dream about?

Do they imagine felt teeth softly gnawing on foam bones?
Perhaps they dream of padded paws sneaking up on stuffed toy cats?
Maybe their cotton tongue drools over brown corduroy sausages?
Or do they romp on patchwork fields before snoozing on woolen rugs?

It could be their dreams are of simpler things.

They might smile as they snooze thinking of,
Someone who always hugs them tightly like there is no tomorrow.
Or they might be dreaming of the happiness that comes from,
Gazing into the eyes of someone who unconditionally loves them.

An unashamed piece of whimsy dedicated to Rufus, my daughter’s favourite stuffed toy.


Monochrome World


In the wearisome monochrome world
Everything is shades of black and white.
Humankind has been tranquilised
People live out a clockwork life.

They quietly catch dull buses,
Waiting patiently in drizzling rain.
Uncomplaining of grey smog
As they linger for drab trains.

Two-tone uniform policemen
Sedately walk silent beats.
Making people’s muted lives,
Safe on their dingy streets.

Battleship grey homogeneous children
Shuffle softly to granite schools.
They only speak in whispers,
Not one of them plays the fool.

Once the dreary sun sets
In this world of black and white.
People retire to boring bedrooms,
To embrace the hushed night.

They close tired grey eyes,
That with tears start to stream.
As every night in bright colour
They live vicariously in their dreams.

The Dirty Dozen… with Richard Archer!

Al interviews me this week, why not take a look.

A Certain Point of View

Welcome to another edition of The Dirty Dozen!

This week, I’m delighted to be hosting Richard Archer (aka “Skaggy The Poet”) in the Dirty Dozen “hotseat”.

Richard is a poet who blogs and performs on a regular basis as part of the Walsall Poetry Society. He has a poetry book out – – and you can follow more on his blog at –

You can read the interview HERE 

Hope you enjoy this as much as I did. Let me know in the comments if you fancy a turn in the hotseat! 🙂

The Dirty Dozen

View original post

8-Bit Dream

8-bit Dream

I still remember my favourite childhood escape,
Those computer games on cassette tape.
After school loading them on to my TV screen,
Then happily getting lost in an 8-bit dream.

At space invaders I’d love to play,
Blowing those aliens back to the Milky Way.
Or I’d load Decathlon, try to beat my record,
Often instead only breaking my keyboard.

Then if I fancied a bit of a change,
I’d load up an adventure game.
Trying to guide a clueless hobbit to a ring,
While a dwarf about gold did sing.

Once I started a game, I never stopped,
Playing until I was ready to drop.
If a game finished I never felt down,
I’d just buy more from the shop in town.

Loading up my new game I’d play all night,
Fighting the good electronic fight.
But to be honest I’d play anything,
Happy to get lost in an 8-bit dream.

I’m still working my way through Uncharted 4 but while doing so I was reminded of how my gaming obsession started with the 8-bit home computer I first owned, the ZX Spectrum. A quick note – Decathlon the game was similar to Track and Field and involved rapid alternate pressing of two keys to make an athlete run. It was responsible for a lot of broken keyboards, including mine.

Uncharted 4 – my poetry nemesis


I’m not sure of my poetry output anymore
As today they release Uncharted Four.
You see I no longer have a pen in my grip,
It’s been replaced by my dual stick.
I’ve been distracted before you see,
By Uncharted One,Two and Three.
So bear with me if I stop and start
Or it seems I’ve no poetry to impart.
Normal service will return once again,
As soon as I’ve triumphed over my new game.

I’ll be back Friday , I’ve prepared a poem in advance 😉 If your playing Uncharted Four have fun.