I stole my love’s heart in ViennaPoached her false teeth in ZagrebYet rather than steal her high heels in NiceI hid them under our bed Once upon a blue moonAll her knickers I did nick in New YorkYet rather than thieve her suspenders in FranceI posted them over to Cork The day that I burst … More THE NINCOMPOOP’S LAMENT
When I last closed my drowsy eyes it was to the accompaniment of an apt, from my biased point of view, cryptic song. The song was new to me, yet notwithstanding my poor state of being, I fell in love with it at once. Its title? ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ sung originally, I was … More THE REBIRTH OF THE BLUE-EYED CAT
Grey granite stone, the great doddery wall towering over little since Roman times, knocked together long, long ago by the one-time burghers of South Rie…South Rie, the pre-spruced up tribal name of a latter day nouveau riche county. Over time ‘granite’ had seen Roundheads and Cavaliers playing the game called ‘revolution’, Luftwaffe bombers above, ‘up … More OUT OF THE MOONLIT BLUE
The potential of a life of clinical debauchery had its delectable merits, more so when one had the ear of The Pope. Better that than a lifetime of tedium, kneeling upon cold stone with glued palms and eyes closed tight dreaming only of forbidden celestial flesh. Given that hara-kiri was not of his fancy it … More THE HOUSE OF VIVID MEMORIES
his tainted breath, his tainted genius, as if yesterday she remembers The Englishman still; how could she forget? banana skin conversations, ‘careful where one treads’ bias to her cost she had found a Cambridge honed high intellect coupled with a gift for meticulous prepping ensured he excelled in setting checkmate traps; savoured conquests … More OF BOLLINGER & RECOLLECTION
False hugs and latent promises, a precursor to love? Maybe hate? She could never decide. Yet here, in this glorified candlelit pigpen, immune from sirens, horns and streetwise revelry, the old guard are at play. Leaning on the bar, dressed to the gaudy nines (dressed to the gaudy nines to blend in, no other reason) … More CANCELLED APPOINTMENT
My doctor is a Muslim my dentist is as well as is the man running the corner shop who cares for his clientele The bloke next door he’s one too his missus gives us dishes traditional Bangladesh cuisine gifted to us with her best wishes He also owns a restaurant he serves … More A DISGRACE
New York City, 1964: Paul Simon is home alone trying without success to pen the lyric for the song, ‘The Sound of Silence’. You see poor Paul is suffering from lyricist’s block. At this juncture he plainly has no conception of the fact that one day ‘The Sound of Silence’ will be one of the … More ‘HELLO DARKNESS MY OLD FRIEND, I’VE COME TO….TELL HER SHE’S GOT A SUBLIME REAR END’ as PAUL SIMON STRUGGLES WITH LYRICIST’S BLOCK!
Staple my tongue to a gate post, for it is my fatal flaw, My tongue you see, talks instead of me, and that’s not what it’s for My tongue should obey only my command, not let loose on its own, My tongue should learn to be polite, and never cause me to groan … More STAPLE MY TONGUE TO A GATE POST
Before, in the putative asylum of her bedroom whether alone or in the company of others the one of curious Grecian genesis would always keep alight the loose hanging shade less bulb As a vocal self-proclaimed freethinker those who understood these things thought this her greatest contradiction The ignorance of brawn afforded him an ability … More UNDER A BRIDGE IN DAYS OF YORE
- MIKE STEEDEN - 