Best Bobbies Poems

Late night summons madmen, 
madams, bold streetwalkers,
picking pennies from the gutters
as the merchants close their shutters
and the homeless crouch in doorways
in their rags, against the cold.
Black or white, no compromise,
no colours clothe the empty streets,
as Bobbies tread their lonely beats,
the watchmen rub their crusted eyes
and...

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Nightscapes

...inspired by 'Rhapsody On A Windy Night' 
       by T.S. Eliot


Late night summons
madmen, madams, bold streetwalkers,
picking pennies from the gutters
as the merchants close their shutters
and the homeless crouch in doorways
in their rags, against the cold.
Black or white, no compromise,
no...

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Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the...

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She's Off To Merry England
Where the blue bell wood goes wild
Where all the lad and lass speak a funny style!
Where cheerio means nothing but, "Hey how ya do?"
And bobbies are the real police watchin over you 
Wave your hand, blow your nose, stand around awhile...

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Pitter patter, drip, drop, it’s not an April shower
Drip, drop, drip, drop raining hour after long hour
Suddenly the sun streaks through, javelins of sunlight
Then back to pitter, patter, and rain throughout the night.

In and out of doorways, trying to stay dry
Thunder crashing the Queens dead,...

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"Sick Art"



I walk the streets
still and quiet
I do not lie
I do not betray
what the heart belies
pickled kidneys 

I am a ghost
of my former self

ears lent to hear 
the sweet music
of the sounds so fraught
caught up in the act
of loving unnatural
tendencies kissed 

I whispered into 
those...

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Dictionary in hand Bobbies
     manned state of the spy craft created
strategic peripheral outposts
     a comma dated,

(sans syntax garnered monies) equated
justifiable to build galley ma free
     Highland Manor wing - feted
via "FAKE" glitterati

 ...

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Late night summons madmen, 
madams, bold streetwalkers, 
picking pennies from the gutters 
as the merchants close their shutters 
and the homeless crouch in doorways 
in their rags, against the cold. 
Black or white, no compromise, 
no colours clothe the empty streets, 
as Bobbies tread their...

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to parlay view to unleash nuclear weapons on cue
destroying vast swaths of flora and fauna,
   most inn no cent life forms pay hefty due
to assuage aggressively cruel, enjoyably 

   growling goal, and indubitably kick ass mindset worse 
   than...

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If you are in the support bubble 
You can go out not being considered trouble 
Whining and dining 
No worries for fining 
But what happens if your relationship is declining 
Could you end up behind bars due to not having the right timing? 
Getting rejected...

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Late night summons madmen, 
madams, bold streetwalkers, 
picking pennies from the gutters 
as the merchants close their shutters 
and the homeless crouch in doorways 
in their rags, against the cold. 
Black or white, no compromise, 
no colours clothe the empty streets, 
as Bobbies tread their...

Continue reading...

When at five-thirty
In the rubbed-eye haziness
Of ferreting lonesome night walks
The camera-eye refugee
Asleep in the half wakefulness
Of the hour
Peers out of his high turbanned sockets:
Hyde Park's through road links
London's diurnally estranged couple -
The Arch and Gate.

   When at five-thirty
The foot falls gently
Of the vision...

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Translation of Eric Mottram’s KRIM: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY TO SEPTEMBER 1989 - II by T. Wignesan

( This poem is from the collection, ESTUARIES: Poems 1989-91. Twickenham: Solaris, 1992, 62p. Pub. by Yasmin and Peterjon Skelt. Back cover photo by David McIntosh, “my sister’s son” - Eric...

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Tis a hallowed place...
This cobbled maze of alleyways
Which bond these rat infested streets
Yet, gas lamps lit, stand betwixt the corners
And lone Bobbies patrol beneath their feet

London,
A littering city of homeless ashes
Falls shameful underneath the moon’s pathetic light
The darkness is the seductress... soon to be accomplice
As...

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"Only other poets read your poems"
Said my father, to my great appall
So I plastered a poem in spray paint
To the side of the town's harbor wall

Then the bobbies saw my piece of artwork
And they dragged me away to a cell
Then they threatened to brand me...

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