The Stage is Set


The stage is set
The scène prepared
Enter the Actors
The Players
No waiting.
Without warning
Right on cue
At the drop of a hat
It begins.
Send in the Clowns
-No Jokers-
For it is a farce
This stage we walk on
Treading the Boards
As though we mean something
To The Gods
-The Master Puppeteers-
Pulling our strings
To Their amusement…
Arrayed above us
Sometimes walking amongst us
Just to laugh
Or spur us on
To Their pleasure
Never deceiving us
Yet allowing us
To Believe…
There is some greater purpose
To our being
Other than Clay Pots
Into which They pour Their piss
Like rain from Heaven.
And we must learn to Dance in the rain
And count ourselves honoured
To be so pissed upon.
The Stage is Set
And cannot be altered
Or changed.
It is the will of the Gods.
And They must have an Audience
With Man
-The Great Pretender-
Play-Thing of The Gods
A piece on a Chess Board
With which They wage War
Until bored
Or sated
And They need us no more.
Cast aside
Laid away
‘Til stirred or Awakened
Once more
They call us to Action
And we must Up
And obey
-We have no choice-
For what else is there
But this Clap-Board-Walk
We call Earth?
-The Revolving Stage –
And the tiny Timed manoeuverings
We call Life?
So the stage is Set
And we Perform
And the best we can do
Is give OURSELVES some pleasure
For the Gods are not there to please us
But yet may Applaud our Demeanour.


Why Procrastinate?


Look left
Look right
Look your best.

Don’t think
Just act
Do your best.

If the way is clear
Why wait?
Why worry?

Look left
Look right
Nothing there.

Don’t think
Just act
Don’t just stand there.

IIf the way is clear
Why wait?
Why procrastinate?


My daughter worked at one

I used to sit in this one

In Barbados ne’er a one

In Dalston there is one

McDonald’s McDonald’s McDonald’s

All the children screaming for one

McDonald’s McDonald’s McDonald’s

Can’t find a Wimpy
Can’t see a Burger King
In most parts of London
‘Cause this McDonald’s
Doing everything
Even gentryfying its design
To keep up with the Times
Still it’s good for something:
When I need a toilet
I too scream

Step By Step

Stepping down
Taking the risk
Taking the chance


Stepping up
Accepting the challenge
To go on

Step by step
Up or down

Stepping on toes
Stepping on fingers
Not my own

Stepping high
Stepping low
On and off the curb

Stepping into safety
Stepping out of comfort
Stepping where no one knows

Stepping through Life
One foot at a time
Never stepping backwards

Looking Down


Looking down as I pass by.

Looking down as I stroll.

Looking down as I walk.

Looking down at the cracks in the pavement
Looking down at stone slabs and holes
Looking down at the uneven, mixed-textured roadside
Placed there for ambling travellers.

Looking down as I go.

Looking down as I think.

Looking down as I carry my load.

Looking down but never at my feet
Looking down ignoring the pain in my toes
Looking down not seeing the others
Looking down even as I .

Looking down. Why don’t I raise my eyes?

Looking down. What is so attractive there?

Looking down. ‘Cause there there is nothing to surprise.

Purple Bins


I snapped this because I like purple (or is that a mauve?) and because I found the scene interesting – because of the ‘purple’bins.

Without that splash of unusual colour this would be just another drab unnoticeable space, even with the incongrous red door to the side.

When I saw this, the red door signified vain hope, or perhaphs a cry for help, for an otherwise unloveable sight. Maybe it was meant to mock.
Then came the purple bins. These introduced life, lifted the scene from a one-liner to a conversation. A discussion.

Yes, a “conversation” is going on here. A story is being told.

Purple Bins. Take them away and we would pass by, unheeding the cry and the mockery. Now we see the discussion. We hear the conversation. We are interested in the story.