"Just In Time"

Now I'm one of the 'fraternity'
I can't believe it passed me by
Today is a great celebration
So I'd better give it a try.
For today people will be scribbling
Up and down the land
Verses that are thought out
Masterpieces and the bland.
For it's cause for celebration
National Poetry Day
I'm so relieved it was mentioned in passing
So I could enter the fray.
You see it's the last day of September
And this month I've done thirteen
To you it's just a number
But do you know what this will mean?
It's not that I'm superstitious
But there's a chance I might be wrong
It will end up bringing me bad luck
And I'll be a poetry mong.
So as I finish it's time for celebration
Number fourteen this month I hail
Talk about 'double bubble'
As my fanzine just went on sale!

Dulwich Poet 30th September 2014...finished at 11.46pm!

( I was stuck on 13 poems this month, when a mate mistakenly told me it was National Poetry Day, so I wrote this on the bus home. In fact it's on Thursday 2nd October!)

"Power to the Poet"

I never thought in sobriety
A fanzine I'd produce
When I was a pisshead
It was just a beer fundraising excuse.
I haven't sold a copy yet
So I don't know why I feel so great
Perhaps the fact I've got it done
Even if it's not first rate.
Truth is I'm a bit technophobic
So it's old scholl cut and paste
I was unsure whether to print it
But it's not been done in haste.
I collated and re-read it
It might not be to your style
But the more I keep on looking at it
I'm breaking into a smile.
I think that means if you read and like it
That's a bonus and a plus
Not that I won't love it
If you kindly make a fuss.
There's this poncy buzzword at work
It's all about "Well Being"
Now I've just published my first poetry fanzine
It means forgetting the past I'm fleeing.
For each little thing I do
And every new piece I publish
It's helping me achieve a better life
Being granted my 'normality' wish.

Dulwich Poet 27th September 2014

(I have just produced a 24 A5 page poetry fanzine, to sell & give away at Dulwich Hamlet games, and Open Mic poetry nights; I was unsure of doing so, but am proud of the finished product!)

"Inner Pride"

I've just been to the pictures
The film that they call "Pride"
It really made me well up
Not kidding you..I cried!
While I'm so proud
To be twelve years sober
I can't help but look back and regret
Thinking of the life I should have had
And all the people I could have met.
My own friend was Fosters and Carlsberg
The 'real me' immersed in beer
Was the reason I hid behind alcohol
Being too ashamed to be queer?
Best not to self-analyse
Delving deep into my mind
My life's been full of mistakes and fuck-ups
Best leave all that baggage behind.
Time to look forward
Be realistic with the truth
Accept the fact I'm lonely
And can't re-live my youth.
But I can be more political
And start to make amends
Enjoy things like my poetry
And appreciate my circle of friends.
They say 'life begins at forty'
In two years I'll be a decade late
Maybe when I finally hit fifty
It's time to get my life sorted straight.
Truth be told there's no set barrier
As to what in middle age I can start to achieve.
If I finally have some faith in myself
And embrace this strange thing...
Called BELIEVE.

Dulwich Poet 27th September 2014

(I wrote this after having seen the film 'Pride', which was about the group 'Lebians & Gays Support The Miners', set during the Great miners Strike of 1984/85, a strike I supported, but not as active as I should have done. The film had a wonderful 'feel good' factor)

"Reading It Wrong"

I turn the page
And there it says
Right at the top on bold:
"The Den"
I get all excited
Brain goes into football mode.
"Come on you Lions!"
But I quickly realise
It's just some shit
About Foxes.
And I don't mean
Leicester City.
Sometimes...
I fucking hate poetry books.

Dulwich Poet 24th September 2014

('The Den' was the name of a poem in a poetry book I borrowed from the Poetry Library: "Words On A Faded T-Shirt", by Norman Mailer)

"Tea Break"

You really couldn't make it up
A tea bar with no tea
If it wasn't such a shambles
You'd think someone was taking the P!
Football might have moved on
No longer a bovril and a flat cap
But not having a half-time cuppa:
An embarrassment and total crap.
Tea and coffee in the clubhouse
If you're fit enough to climb the stairs
Then you gottle to battle past the beer drinkers
Talk about cup of rosy nightmares.
Any chance of tea in the tea bar
The clue is in the name
Whoever decided to scrap it
Should hang their head in shame.
Starbucks next door aren't complaining
Raking in a bob or two
Hordes of Pink & blue clad custom
Sick of no tea at the tea bar queue.
Our fans will be growing older
Long before their time
Migrating from terrace to grandstand
"Because there's no tea!" they'll chime.
Ageing far too early
Sat with blanket and a flask
All because there's no PG Tips at the tea bar
Is that really too much to ask?

Dulwich Poet 24th September 2014

(For a few games now we have had the, frankly, ludicrous situation at Dulwich Hamlet where there are no drinks on sale at the tea bar...so there's no TEA at the TEA bar!)

"Och Aye The Noo!"

Much as I supported your independence
I'm sort of glad you blew your chance
Would I really have wanted Scotland
To be as foreign as France?
Truth is you're already alien
Another race apart
And if you don't believe me
Look at their culinary delights for a start.
Buckfast for your breakfast
Morning, noon and night
Is it any wonder
All you want to do is fight?
And what on earth is haggis?
I don't mean to be rude
Is it all that dodgy leftover horsemeat
That Tesco wouldn't put in their food?
Don't dare get me started
On your chip shop nosh
When you deep fry your mars bars
Ans pizza in batter's posh.
Talking of don't get me started
What about your weird national dress
Though I wouldn't mind a peek up your kilt
If I were to confess.
Truth is...it kind of suits you
Men wearing a skirt
And if I were a little braver
I wouldn't mind a flirt.
Problem is the language barrier
We're supposed to speak the same
But every time I chat to a jock
It's a 'nod in the right place' game.
For your lingo is so different
It might as well be double Dutch
It's not that I don't like you
I just don't understand you much.
Chatting makes me nervous
Very hit and miss
Frightened I'll smile instead of frown
And you'll give me a Glasgow kiss.
But now the referendum's over
We must all get along
Next time you wail "Donald where's yer troosers"
I'll even sing your song.
So don't mistake me for anti-Scottish
I've always found you great hosts
It's just that I've never really got over
You stealing our Wembley goalposts.

Dulwich Poet 20th Spetember 2014

(A light-hearted response to the Scottish referendum. I have no idea what the title means, it's what we always say when pretending to speak in a Scottish accent!)

"What I Am"

Sometimes nothing.
For Days...
Which strings into
Weeks...or more.
Once upon a time
Like a year ago
That would have
Been a cause
For panic.
Doubt...and the rest.
But no more.
Because I am finally...
 A 'proper' poet!

Dulwich Poet 14th September 2014

(This basically says, it doesn't really bother me if I have spells of not writing any poetry, because I have come to realise that I will do so at some stage...)

"Loneliness"

If only life were simple
But..'.it could be so much worse'
The  'try to make Billy-No-Mates feel better phrase
When in fact it's just a curse.
Just been to watch the Youth Team
Proverbial one man and his dog
Not even disturbed by passers-by
Out on their Sunday morning jog.
We lost the game three-one
Wasn't even the proverbial hound
I was on my own in a sports field
You can't even call it a ground.
I'm writing this on an Oxford Street side turning
In a dead end stinking of piss
Surley there must be more to a Sunday afternoon
Than struggling to fill it like this?
I'm sat reading and writing poetry
The Photographers' Gallery is next
Doing things that I like
Have I right to be vexed?
After that it's through Soho
That I shall go for a stroll
Though seeing all those happy gay couples
Isn't so good for for my soul.
I'll cheer myself by purchasing a book
To read as I wank tonight
Something not too heavy
More like filthily light.
Then it's down to Trafalgar Square
National Portrait Gallery my call
I seem to be doing quite a bit
For a bloke who does fuck all.
Then back over the proper side of the river
The Poetry Library my last call
And if i'm extrmely lucky
I'll have a fumble at the Festival Hall.
I hope you're not going to judge me
For trawling a public toilet for cock
Cos when you're as Billy-No-Mates as me
It's better than wanking into a sock!

Dulwich Poet 14th September 2014

(A summary of my day today..)

"Touching Fame"

I'd just done a couple of poems
Open Mic at 'Platform One'
Which in no way makes me famous
When all is said and done.
Walking back through Covent Garden
A bloke I didn't expect to meet
There was that famous Freddie Starr
Walking down the street.
Didn't go for the cliche
Didn't expect hime to make me laugh
I was only being my usual self
Never doing things by half.
As he came toward me
I went to shake his hand
Then those words came out
The ones I hadn't planned.
Looking him in the eye I said:
"Fuck Me! I thought you were dead!"
I think he expected a polite autograph request
But what do expect
When I'm Council Estate bred?

Dulwich Poet 13th September 2014

(Walking through the West End, gonig back to Charing Cross station, I did indeed see Freddie Starr in the street.)

"Sticking The Football Boot In"

Was you doing lip service
Supporting 'Rainbow Laces' Day?
How tolerant would you really be
If footballers turned gay?
The game turns a blind eye
To managers and agents taking bungs
Can you imagine the uproar
Of centre-forwards doing tongues?
It's alright for you to go "Phwoar!
That Physio she's really fit"
Or calling for the female linesman
To give us a flash of her tit.
But dare say on the terrace
It's your star midfielder I fancy
That's just too much information
We don't want football turning nancy.
Can you remember that player
The one who came out first
Completely ostracised by the game
His manager doing his worst.
Brian Clough might've been a national treasure
But he acted like a beast
When Justin Fashanu topped himself
He didn't care in the least.
Is it any wonder
No-one else comes out
Such a tragedy they're all scared
To become a gay icon with clout.
Those that say it doesn't matter
Why do we need to know
It's to show being gay is normal
Not the lowest of the low.
All the time you question rainbow laces
As players tie up their boots
Well tell me if I snogged another bloke
You wouldn't give two hoots.
Saying you're not homophobic
But being uncomfortable with a kiss
Really proves that you are...
Offended and taking the piss.
So to see my Dulwich Hamlet heroes
Wearing rainbow laces with pride
You really can't imagine
How it makes this gay fan feel inside.

Dulwich Poet 13th September 2014

(Today was 'Rainbow Laces' Day, where professional footballers were asked to lace up in rainbow laces, to show a message of support for saying no to homophobia in football. Some of our fans asked our players to lace up too, unusual in non-league football, and half of the squad did.)

"Similar"

I like all the things that you do
Just not into tits and fanny
And we don't all take it up the arse
Cos we fancy blokes with names like Danny.
Time for a bit of honesty
Maybe when you've had too much beer
Have you ever shagged your missus different
Taking her up the rear?
That's just you being dirty
But not a dirty queer.
Two blokes enjoying sex
Why does it fill you with fear!
There's so many of you out there
Taking the moral high ground
But when it comes to your so-called perversions
You never say a sound.
Truth be told there's not much different
Between what we like to do
Gay sex or straight sex are both great
You just haven't thought it through.

Dulwich Poet 12th September 2014

( This one is just about 'double standards' when it comes to sex. Between two men it's disgusting, but a man and a woman doing almost the same thing isn't talked about...)

"Slammer"

Feeling a bit nervous
The die is cast
Once I open my mouth
Hope I don't come last.
I've shared this one before
So I hope I don't stutter
Clear and concise
Instead of a mutter.
Reign in those butterflies
No need to panic
Reading out poetry's
Hardly going manic.
Marks out of ten
What will be my score
I'll settle for average
Better than poor.
Truth is I just want to read
And would never be good enough to win
But I'm not total rubbish
My poem's not ready for the bin.
Instead I read in the first
Sticking to Open Mic
No need to worry if good or bad
Which deep down I like.

Dulwich Poet 12th September 2013

(I wrote most of this on the way to the Farrago Poetry slam night, at the Poetry Cafe. A 'slam' is when the poem you read is marked by three judges picked from the audience, and the highest marks win the Slam. i wasn't sure if there was space, there was, but I jsut opted for the first half of the night, which had Open Mic slots, so didn't bother with the Slam. The last few lines were done on the way home, as I started this poem on the bus there, but didn't have time to complete it.)

"Non League Day"

Such a simple concept
Inventing Non League Day
I never realised how much
Until Dulwich entered the fray.
I could never have imagined
Champion Hill packed to the hilt
Biggest crowd we've ever seen
Since the Stadium was built.
If I'd have predicted capacity
Three thousand in the place
You'd accuse me of being on drugs
Stoned and off my face.
But we pulled off the impossible
Beyond our dreams and more
That was despite Hampton & Richmond
Hardly being a draw.
The power of publicity
And being such a famous name
Embracing 'Pay What You Like'
In their thousands they came.
Second highest in non-league
Better than Crawley in League One
If you put in the hard work
Local people will come.
Raising a massive amount for charity
Totalling seven grand
With fans marching from Peckham Rye
Led by a ukelele band!
The knockers call us hipsters
And mock women in a football crowd
But each and every one of our fans
Made me really proud.
It was so much more than 'Pay What You Like'
That brought thousands to our gate
It was hardcore fans pulling together
Not just cheap football as bait.
Spreading the word promoting our club everyone's a mate
Old Skool Fans & New-veau ones
That made Non League Day so great.
A quiet moment in the boardroom
I shed a few tears of joy
One of the most amazing days of my life
Dulwich Hamlet man and boy.

Dulwich Poet 10th September 2014

(Saturday 6th September was Non League Day, and my club, Dulwich Hamlet had a 'Pay What You Like' Day for charity. Fans put in a huge amount of work to publicise the game, & we were rewarded with our record attendance at our ground, which opened in 1992, of 2,586. 'Unofficially' it was certainly more, but we only have an 'official' capacity of 3,000; so could not exceed that)

"Just For Me"

Do I write for you
Or do I write for me?
That appears to be the question
Of 'Lunar Poetry'.
Well I'm not thinking of you
When I scribble a verse
If I was writing to order
That would be a curse.
It's just line after line
That comes out of my head
As simple as that
When all is done and said.
Don't get me wrong...
I like to share with a crowd
When I get a warm response
I love the applause loud.
Perhaps by reading thos
I'm writing to share
If that proves your point
I really don't care.
For my words are what I do
To keep myself sane
It gets me fro A to B
When I'm bored on a train.
I only read and share
Because I find it fun
It's not to entertain you
When all is said and done.
It's your editorial
So say what you like
As I will now do
By saying on your poetry bike.
Should it really matter
Why I pick up a pen
As long as I enjoy it
And buy your magazine again.

Dulwich Poet 7th September 2014

(In the first issue of 'Lunar Poetry' the editor said that there is no such thing as people writing poetry for themselves...)