Tag Archives: Writing

6, 9, 99.

Eaten well Hanna was walking home, a lovely public path by the river, she sat and listened to nothing.

This very warm and dry weather the river drops, very low.

In heatwave’s the public footpath turns and ventures right onto the riverbed. Sun glaring the now stream trickles, old fence borders can be seen, especially at the oxbow. She skims a few stones to see if they will skip to the other-side, it’s very close. First, hmmm, second, that’s pretty good. Upon the third throw and second skip it stops with a ‘dink’ oh, how deep?

Hanna, she had plimsolls on but skinny jeans yet it was quite secluded. Footwear off, jeans peeled down she ventured into the shallow. It really wasn’t that far. Just under the surface a blunt looking object could be seen. She looked around, either to ask for a hand or to make sure no one could see her thong.

Feeling the object it felt like slimy wood? She give it a good tug, but she slipped into the stream due to the slime on the wood, she just couldn’t get a grip.

An idea, go get those skinny jeans, secure one leg round the object and with the other pull it hard, could this leverage work?

Strangely, still no one is using the public footpath. A leg is tied around the stump, the other is over her right shoulder, this should do it. She pulls hard – nothing, she pulls hard but levers with it – nothing. By now she is becoming obsessed. Sitting in the stream she wedges her feet to just below the wooden stump, left jean leg around the stump, right jean leg round her back she heaves backwards, she heaves backwards with the stream at her ears.

Hanna Lord, her head goes under due to the release of this erm, it’s an old, well what looks like a weapon, good grief. She pushes herself up, someone is watching on the public footpath.

“Hello, you want some help dear”

Demanded rather than asked.

Hanna released the jeans from what appears to be some sort of weapon, While in the shallows she does manage to wriggle back into those skinny jeans, though now she is more than very wet.

“No thanks”

“What you got dear”

She walks to the dry path and up the bank.

“Thank you for your concern but, it looks like a long tube with a wood stump”

“Dear, do you mind if I help”

It really is hot, Hanna’s jeans are shrinking to shape.

The stranger has a closer look at this wood and metal tube, both use the dry grass with the water to rub the strange object.

As it starts to clean a lever seems to be on what must be the underside of the wood, due to the angle against what now seems a barrel.

“Dear, that is a very old musket, it’s a wood shoulder brace, some parts are missing for the cock but, it is very old, they were very unreliable, a chance to gash your face could be as high as the target trying to be shot”


Hanna is wondering, who is this person? Thankfully it’s still only early evening.

“Let me show you dear”


“Dear, if the enemy reached you due to the muskets shots being so off target what happens”


“Huh, dears hold fine – fire, huh, reload, rear hold fine – fire huh, reload, front fire huh, hold still dears, hold firm, the target, hold…”

Jumping to waking, Hanna could hear the local clay pigeon club start the evening event, they’re only over the river. Thing is, she couldn’t fully work out why her skinny jeans seemed to have got ever more damp.

She is the dearest.

Be Careful What You Wish For.

Waving wildly from her car I returned it with my left hand.

Where had she been? I haven’t seen her since she was standing, looking at an over loaded bee on the ground. if only I had a spoon, warm water and some honey.

But where is the dog? Ah yes, as she drove on by we both smiled, maybe one day I should ask what the dogs name is.

A robin lands nearby, should I stop and close my eyes? A short wish for something that wont happen, oh crikey there goes a magpie!

Closed eyes ‘I wish I hadn’t seen that magpie’ and upon opening my eyes…

Two magpies fly on by.


Of The…

Birds and bees, flowers and trees.
Why try to ruin all these.
The worlds a spin, too many sin.
Frost is thick out there…

Mad isn’t it, after so many years he feels the need to spew out some of that mind shit of facts.

Someone does a semen ‘burp’ in your face, another time they allow you to carry out Cunnilingus on them after they have had intercourse with another ‘man’ though in this case it was named Angela – in the phone.

He had boiling water thrown upon him, being kicked and punched into a kitchen corner, dropped he was seen, so pretended it was a game as she went out to the gym, meeting Angela.

He tried and just couldn’t get it.
Proper life back on track.
Smell and taste are are still shit.
But really, I needed life back.
It just hasn’t happened.

As it unfolded she mentioned the ‘snip’ so I thought it was meant for me, no – how silly, as I found out.

Fucking yak.

Every night the motions happen. Only recently broken legs were a serious thought, but it seems Angela died in 2014? Those legs should have been snapped well before and many times but, no.

Sean McElroy (Angela) was finally married three times, so much was found out, ‘Angela’ was a cunt and it is hoped all the pain possible happened during that death.

But it takes two…

And no, I never did do any kicking or punching to her, it was the other way round.

I’m an old 53 and very tired, 53 years of memories, mainly shit apart from two.

Think I’m bonkers? me too.

Who melted?

As I touched her nose she started melting, she called out to be kissed.
The spike appeared, I cried as she returned into the sheet.
Grabbing the flatness she could see me.
Lifting me ever higher I thought I was going to slide over the edge.
Yet I must remember, under me she was yet still is.
Where to now? she needs to break the sheet and allow us to join.

Needing to wake up.

It’s not a mirror but a silhouette within the thin sheet.
Sliding I twisted my hands, I looked below, then she was above.
She positioned to kiss my nose.
My finger reached her lips, I was on that edge.
Grabbing with knuckles showing I tightly held on.
I could feel something pointing into the rear of my neck.

I must wake up.

Those lips still needed kissing.

Calling out she asked me to stay.
To please kiss her and not go away.
Holding my hand out for that sweet sheet.
The spike will happen, again when I’m weak.

Squeezing the sheet I woke.

PS, meeting I still would SER.

It’s all glass.

Waking down

Good grief.

Go to sleep trying not to think then it all goes bonkers which seems to result in a sleeping up, you know, it’s a dream but actually it really is a dream. So ‘we’ stay still smelling some breath on those toes, nope the legs are just restless so keep still, but you just can’t keep those legs still. Must keep still, then the breathing happens in the left ear. At this point moving around is whats needed but you can’t. Pointless trying now as shallow breathing through the nose just might beat it?

Waking thinking trying to work 53 years out but most is inside.

Dud looks my stinking fart.


It’s still there though.


Quite amusing it was.

Approaching she said I was looking somewhat lonely? I did reply letting her know that I’m content in these situations.

‘Have you got any mates?’ She asked.

‘I have some really good friends thanks, not many but pleased with the few’ I replied.

‘You are by yourself though? With no mates on you’

‘On me? erm’

This lady started to confuse me. She took off her shoulder bag and started to part its fastening clips.

‘No, I asked if you had any mates, on you’ she carried on

By now the bag was open, she showed me two packets of three condoms of the Mates type.

‘Ah ha’ I nervously replied.

‘I wondered if you would like to share some of my friends’ she eagerly asked in a gentle voice.

‘It’s been almost nine years and you look half my age, I cant, sorry’ I was sweating some drops down my cheeks by now.

‘What are you called’

‘Many things but Stuart is the main one’

‘Stuart, I am divorced and do have a teenage son’ she declared.

‘Oh, then you are older than I’m thinking’

‘How old are you thinking’

’28 going on 42′ I cringed.

I thought I heard some deep breathing?

‘Stuart, come on, lets share those mates eh…’

‘If I must…’

Excitedly I woke dribbling into my beard with deep breathing and a rare erection. My pillow was hugging me. Depressingly I tried to go back to sleep.

She never gave me her name or age.

Pet hates with some Proper hates

Thought I had blue though black is best.

That look, have I taken your seat?
Minus one to minus two whats that all about…

Fag ends on the floor especially those still smoking. What is so difficult in stubbing them out then throwing into a bin.
Prams pushed into the road as the parent woman – usually, looks at the phone trying to cross.
Sports folks spit, but they don’t go around in public areas getting the worse gunk out of their mouths onto the pavement.
A low kerb crossing blocked by some twatting big four wheel drive vehicle and on the road zigzagged out of school.
Women – erm, feminists that are just that when the time is ‘ok’ for them to be so.

Best blame some men now, but that’s a struggle…

Beards, those who don’t grow them, oh but I love dreads especially in a beard!

What brings you in here again?

I am, I’m not.

Those needing foodbanks, so much food goes to waste, a bent cucumber, a brown banana, fucking stupid isn’t it.
Homelessness anywhere.
Pretend poor, it’s such a struggle in poverty. Yeah, right eh – fuckers.
Terrorism, bullying, home alone, cruelty, extreme hate of any type.

Dammed 53 again, fuck right off.

Un – frozen dog shit gets slipped on, frozen just rolls with it!

The list goes on…

Me to those types mentioned.

Churchill-first-V-sign - BLIP


Double ice and JD please.
First ride of the year and I fell off.
Don’t go again – avoid it.
Best call the best friend.

That’s what I needed.
A week of massive highs.
Massive lows
And huge stupidity.

Four letters an excuse?
Saturday was phenomenal.
My sons are phenomenal.
My best pals phenomenal.


Almost £10 on the Co-op.
Will it go to the foodbank?
Double JD with single ice.
An easy rhyme is simply spice.

Back soon.
Porky scratchings please.

More listening to the old.
As the young should be told.
Just listen to their say.
This bit almost rhymed.

She’s bored to fuck.

Go to sleep and wake up.
All problems are gone.
It’s realised to nothing.
Only you are awake.


Fucking mad isn’t it.
Novelty of said sand.
It’s only cricket.
Keep your chin up.

Oh well.

A hat and a purse.
Then keep your money safe.
A monologue?
Not phenomenal.

But it could be worse.

The old Library

I remember first coming here and decisions decisions, which Thomas the Tank Engine book should it be? The bookshelves were huge but then again I was small. I thought about Gordon or Henry as they were the biggest yet what about Edward? With all that steam, Ringo’s voice is now in my head…

Upstairs was the ballroom, I attended various events there including weddings and the East Bradford Cycling Club yearly dinner. This building was through the Carnegie foundation. Andrew Carnegie was one of the wealthiest men in the world, his wealth was made through steel and the railways in the US of A.

He decided to start giving his fortune to charity before he died, I’m no expert on him but in the 18 and 19 hundreds, to give away your personal wealth was pretty much unheard of.

Carnegie library windhill

The Windhill Library is a superb building which has been allowed to fall into ruin. Maybe it should be dis-mantled and rebuilt where it would be used?

Anyway, did I choose Diesel…