Come in, it's lovely to see you. Pull up a cushion and stay as long as you like.

Saturday, 26 December 2015

Random Santa Banta

Written for Colchester WriteNight Birthday/Christmas pop up shop evening, Monday 21st December 2015, under the strapline ‘Rules, never heard of them’…….

Some Rather Random Santa Banta

Christmas comes but once a year 
and don’t we bloody know it
It kicks off in October now
an earthquake couldn't slow it

All the shops are sparkly
with their christmas wares on sale
It’s Christmas this and Christmas that
buy this jumper, buy that hat

(Come Christmas eve we’ve had enough
of buying all this bloody stuff)

Santa rides his sleigh at night
his coat all red his beard all white
above the rooftops he will fly
he must have seen some sights

All those stockings on display
all those sparkly balls
I bet his wife is for it
when he gets home from his calls

By night the vampire stalks his prey
and in his coffin sleeps all day
He’ll miss the Christmas rush that way
He’s got his priorities right!

I wonder if he’s ever seen
Santa on his rounds at night
I wonder if he’s ever thought
I’ll give that fat old git a bite

Peace on earth and goodwill to men
(and to women too)
That’s not the vampires way you know
rich or poor, black or white
he’ll feast on your blood any night

And now I come to think of it
have you ever seen
Santa in the same room as
the vampire King, or Queen?

I wonder if, one Christmas eve,
a thousand years ago
Old Santa got more
than he bargained for
under the mistletoe 
All puckered up and ready
for a big wet Christmas kiss
this particular household had
their own idea of bliss

And now on every Christmas eve
he roams the skies at night
Invited into every house
within his spectral sight

Underneath his big white beard
his fangs are ready for a bite
his deep red coat
will hide the sight
of any blood he takes tonight

It really doesn’t matter
if you’ve been bad or good
this fat old nosferatu
will take you where you’re stood

So block up all your chimneys
stay hidden out of sight
and pray to any god you choose
that you will last the night

Come christmas morning if you wake
Jump for joy and celebrate
have a feast fit for a King
all the Christmas carols sing

(make each and every moment last
this Christmas just might be your last)

To one and all my tale is done
I wish you all good cheer
A very merry Christmas
a vampire free new year….. 

Thursday, 12 November 2015

November Haiku

Coarse grass and weeds
In the field where the poppies were.

Still beautiful

Monday, 5 October 2015

This Just In

Meanwhile in more local news, from the East Grinstead Echo....

A lifetimes repressed anger boiled over in the local supermarket today when octogenarian and recent UKIP convert, Rita 'Randy' Ransom tutted loudly at a foreign vegetable and shuffled off in a huff, muttering 'Bring back Buy British' under her breath.

The supermarket's recently appointed Non gender specific or race or age implied everyone's equal and we don't want to offend anyone spokesperson (no offence to animals) Dave English said they were 'Very disappointed with Rita, and that this sort of thing was happening more frequently'.

They have invited Rita and her wheelie shopping basket to attend one of their 'All vegetables are the same colour under the soil' presentations, where there will be free Fairtrade tea and sugar, and gluten and milk free biscuits (from their popular BLAND range).

Store employee of the week, and last month's runner up in the most frequently requested vegetable handler category, Caroline Carbuncle, would like to inform shoppers that the Californian Kumquats are particularly moist this week and to wish everyone a nice day.

Sunday, 19 July 2015


Another game of flash cricket with the Colchester WriteNight crew, this time as part of the Lightbulb FestivalI'll leave you to decide what words were part of the challenge, but I included them all! Just a bit of fun folks hope you enjoy it too. I did.

As a consequence of recharging her stranded love pot-hole too vigorously, local cyclist Emma found herself in the hospiteel.

After an incident a few days before in a taxi when her escort for the evening pulled her private cakes too hard, thus forcing her parachute open and resulting in a noisy exchange of recipes, Emma was feeling decidedly shaky.


Friday, 26 June 2015

A Game of Flash Cricket

At Colchester Write Night on Monday 22nd June 2015. We played a game of 'flash cricket'. Choose twenty words between us randomly then write for twenty minutes or so attempting to include all the words. Here's my contribution and the words we chose. Because I know you like it.

Her Pieces Laugh Winter Cynical Devouring Character Inspiration Tradition Innocent False Attitude Situation Consequence Flaw Starving Tortoise Irony Kept Turned

Cain was unable to find inspiration no matter how hard he tried. Admittedly he wasn't trying very hard, but that was neither here nor there, He was starting to feel there was a flaw in his character. Out of nothing but sheer bloody mindedness he kept going, although he was becoming more cynical with each word he couldn't find. Plus he was starving.
The situation was this; he had to write an article on Winter by the end of the week, for a local publication, the fee for which would pay this months rent. Another default and he would be turned out on the street. He couldn't ask his current girlfriend to bail him out anymore. She was fed up with picking up the pieces of his life and her friends were putting the pressure on to call it a day between them. The general consensus was he had a bad attitude towards work and was too lazy. They felt all his initial promises were false and that she was an innocent party in all of this. He had been devouring her savings at a rapidly increasing rate, the consequence of which was a strained relationship, another in an ongoing tradition of failures and unmet deadlines.
If he carried on like this he would have to pawn his pet tortoise, the thought of which made him laugh for some inexplicable reason. He was unable to see the irony in all of this or maybe there just wasn't any.

Sunday, 3 May 2015


Here's a piece of flash fiction I wrote to read at our last Colchester Write Night gathering on Monday 27th April 2015.  I thought you might like to read it too. I'm kind like that.


Sometimes (often) my sleeper train of thought takes me on long complicated journeys involving emergency stops and breakdowns. Usually I am lost in a strange place and can't find my way home although I know that I know it. Or rather knew it.

Sometimes it goes on journey's down disused branch lines ending at crumbling platforms thick with weeds and the ruins of old waiting rooms, haunted by the ghosts of long dead station masters and ticket collectors with myself and my own ghosts the only passengers.

Or the tracks run alongside  the sea or a river that floods, rising waves come in and wash me away.

On all these journeys fear is my companion and a state of constant confusion.

Othertimes and less often a short journey of maybe a few stops to somewhere planned. Through the window in the distance the mist clears and rays of sunshine break through.

Always my waking trains of thought take me back to that last goodbye, and all the things I never knew how to say but wanted to.