Ravenheart

A poem for a dear friend of mine who's charismatic appeal with women is so legendary that it led to him receiving a pseudonym of The Valley Drive Lady Killer even whilst laid on the surgeons slab awaiting a serious operation he was still able to twirl the attention of a young nurse who was at the time wet shaving him of all body hair ready for his open heart surgery.

Her mother is always in a constant Spring clean dusting and polishing until everything in the house begins to gleam, then again she could be addicted to the smell of Mr sheen or has she been drinking far too much caffeine, perhaps it's something to do with the covid vaccine that's turned her into this dopamine drama queen, what about the lack of vitamin b12 is she missing the red meat protein she's never quite been the same since she read the vegan magazine, oh for heaven's sake someone please intervene and turn off this terrifying domestic terrain cleaning machine .

The Oxfam shop or "The dead man's drop" is an essential part of our high street culture we all of us at some stage find ourselves sifting through their silt as if stroking and smelling the scents and spirits of our past relatives like some lost and found bric-a-brac burial ground we old elephants come to rummage around amongst the bones and skin of our not so long ago departed kin. Unfortunately all the objects mentioned in this musing is what I have purchased and given away to friends and family as Christmas and birthday presents including many more objects d'arts or as most of my recipient's see it , jumble sale junk.

The only true miracle that we mortal beings are likely to see comes in the form of our genetic immortality that gene transfer continuum better known to you and me as a baby, Throughout the humans brief biological history it has believed in many a different sherman deity an Divinity ranging from Greek gods to our present day Corpus Christi, But when it comes to the real miracle making capability then it's the female of our species that is graced with the life giving fertility. This poem is written for a close friend of mine who described the birth of his baby daughter as quite devine he said she resembled a blue Budda of death an then suddenly gasped and bloomed into life by taking her first extrauterine breath .

When you get to fifty something plus tax and you're sporting those ashtray locks of the sexy silver fox you may be better forgetting the fifty shades of grey its time to put the sex pistols away.

A musing about my father's experience aboard a super cruise liner where he and most of the old Badgers contracted some terrible infection that almost killed them and this was before the Covid Cruise Lines came along, interestingly you can see how you could end up with a Marie Celeste .

It's about time the human realised that a tree is flesh and blood not just timber or a price of wood , these beautiful living entities give us shelter shade and our lifesaving breath ,without them we are condemning our selves to a curtain death

A musing about the Boer war ,whilst tens of thousands were dying of disease and starvation because of lord kitchener's scorched earth policy he was heartbroken about losing his pet starling thank heavens he's not here to sort out the coronavirus .

The human hunter gatherer brain is so very hard to truth train but maybe not if you start using the new silicon scopolamine dream and drip feed it daily with some digital dopamine served up from our omnipresent Turing machine.

A sketch about Thornton Harding the Junior's obsession with exotic pets , from a kangaroo netball team to a badger for the bedroom and an otter for the bathroom the aristocracy are mad one also had a giraffe dray and rode around his estate as a child on a giant tortoise.

A musing about a talkative taxi driver who would insist on talking about his part time profession as a slaughter men come taxi-dermist my frightfully far back friend and I were able to see and smell the blood by the end of our short journey .

A poem come prayer for a baby who died at birth and never got a chance of life ,  if ever you've been close to someone who's lost a new born then you do feel if it were possible you would gladly swap your old soul to save a new born foal .

Today the cardinal sin that we call greed was ultimately born out of the necessity for us to gorge and feed whilst trying to out run a savage predatory rival in what was the flight or fight of our stone age survival, greed also ment that we could sire and seed across a much stronger lineage to the next burgeoning member of our breed; later religion took over the lead and ordained that its newly found christian creed should be brought to heel and made to heed in order that it's gluttonous heathen soul be freed through abstinence and fasting allowing at last for its salvation to succeed .

Walking into a very expensive veggie vegan boutique i listened to the sermon of a spiritual salesman it felt as if you we're about to sign papers of adoption the high priest of the Celtic druids absolutely worshipped his wild woodland produce , I got the uneasy feeling that my blood was going to be sacrificed under the oak tree called Zeus after i touched a sacred sprig of his mistletoe obviously a crime punishable by death .

A poem about falling into destitution especially soldiers and sailors who you find in the beggars brigade of most British towns. How easy it be to cast contempt , lest we forget our debt.

If your partner starts wearing black leather and reading Mein Kampt or  Le Marquis Dr Sade order yourself a stab proof vest before they move on to Friederic Nietzsche and then try to kill you . For that crazy little dipsomaniac girl who I'll love till I die.

The last update of a human brain was in the mid to late stone age hence why we still carry the trait of wrath some believe it's one of the seven deadly sins whilst others say it be just a left over instinct from the sapiens savage days of survival .

A musing about the private member's bills passed with British Parliamentary pomposity it sounds like a serious aural atrocity but it's usually being diatribed by someone that's spieling through their own suppository .

Emblazoned bright upon his breast he carries that noble heraldic crest , tis the colour of blood and fire be it a blessed response to his lovers desire, suspicion states that he was at the passion of christ , an there by thorny crown was blooded an blessed , is this why today he doth still sanctify the arrival of our christmas fest .

Thinking back to my parents fate it's hard to see how they once did romantically pass through the eden gate into the land of milk and money where they fell hopelessly in love and felt the urge to passionately procreate , after which they wore the mortgage mask that twenty five year servile task eventually paying back the bank managers seven percent overdraft , they scrimped and scrapped in a steel city strife an then this beleaguered husband and wife decided to search out a big world party and a brand new life , they both sat before a monk faced magistrate who annulled their vows of matrimony awarding one spouse the house and the other a monthly allowance of alimony, Friends and family did try to console and commiserate all in vain an far too late due to both parties now having hearts made of suede and heads full of hate .