The Clock Doctor

Cat-ch 22 - A Poem about Cats and the Internet

  I was thinking about cats, the domestic pet How much space is devoted to these dolls through their odd relationship with the Internet And how they've come to have the prefix, "lol"s

Every Tom, Quick and Furry Every Tab Key leading to a Tabby The whole wide web is in such a hurry We even had a cat known for just being crabby Over them the whole world has flipped Even when kind or when vicious I guess it can be traced back to Ancient Egypt. All the way back to the black cat smugly superstitious. The timeline of the felined The whole kitten and kaboodle From the feral to the sterile kind (Have you ever heard Cat sex? it's brutal) Their retractable claws giving me practical pause and leaving marks on my arms And of their rational cause in stalking distractible jackdaws I could spin you many yarns. I wonder of their nine lives Which one really counts? Purring and scurrying Waiting for the moment to pounce After the climbing of trees, and scaling some fences They'd catch a scent in the breeze Just one of their heightened senses. Landing on their feet however one falls Grooming themselves and their young No wonder they pick up hairballs with a sandpaper like tongue They slink through the night with unique vertebrae Only when they are gone do mice come out to play But the Queens are Glaring at their prey This is the same all over from Housecat to stray. So when I see my thousandth cat picture, I think of songs, cartoons and ancient scripture And it seems no suprise their stance in pop culture Falling for something so adorable is human nature So felis catus would love to be seen as Royal But Dogs should make a big on-line come back Cause the audience would be canine-like , so loyal To challenge this current monopoly of Cat Writers note: I've written plenty of poems about forbidden love. This one is for-kitten love.

Bonded Universe

The Aston Martin was bigger on the inside as James Bond was crawling towards it. The door was stiff but a quick flash of his Sonic Q-driver was enough and it dutifully popped open. His whole body glowed in a mass of swirling energy.  He was regenerating. This wasn't the first time. In fact he had been through this twice before. The bland and stilted features of the second Agent, Lazenby morphed into the debonair figure of the 3rd Spy. He was James Bond once again. There were still so many mysteries to solve from his last adventure, like the origin of the oldest game in the universe, 'I-Spy'. He felt the top of his head.  "Hair? Check." He placed a hand on his throat, "Suave, urbane voice?" Check. He raised his eyebrow knowingly with a distinct hint of camp. "Eyebrow? Check. I can raise my eyebrow now. Eyebrows are cool."

MoneyPondy was still amazed at the dimensional impossibility of the vehicle. "An amazing car, this!" She rasped in her Scottish accent, scowling a little as she always did. James sighed. "It's pronounced Cardis, Pond." "What? Are we in Cardiff...again?!" she asked.   James shooed away the question.  "Hardly, we can go anywhere on the planet which has a secret underground base or nefarious organisations. But that's most places as you can see." James' movement became erratic as further regeneration energy was still being expelled. "Woah, something is definitely off with this one. I haven't had this difficult a change, in what feels like an EON." He looked at his watch which caused him further pain. He lunged forward and balanced himself on his Cardis steering wheel. Another huge flash of energy started to build up but this was the start of  an even more unusual effect. James began to scream in pain as a distinct figure seemed to splinter off from his own. Bond slumped down again as this new being got its bearings. It was a man whose face was not that dissimilar to an Easter Island statue. There stood the more traditional 11th Doctor.  "Hello everyone!". He looked at MoneyPondy. "Is that you Amy? You're dressed like a secretary. You're not a kissogram again are you?" James Bond thumbed his Walter PPK, eyeing up the intruder. "And you are old sport?" "I'm the Doctor. Call me 0011 if it makes you more comfortable. I'm guessing you're...." Mondypondy laughed. "Hush, he lives to say it." "Bond, James Bond. You can trust me. I'm the Spy. But how did you...come out of..well..me?" "A-ha! I'm the Doctor. I'm bigger than any story. Actually I'm just being facetious. When I realised what was going on and that I would be subsumed into your being, I took a Rolex and fashioned it  into a crude Fob watch.  I used it to store my personality and in a feat of extraordinary metaphysical engineering I tied it directly into the Tardis or Cardis data core to rematerialise me at a certain point. Like an alarm. The next time you checked your watch, the core would pull me apart from you and restore my memories. I'm like the radio that turns on with the alarm." The Doctor trudged around the room in a panic. "Fusion! Franchise Fusion. Of course! The Tardis is trying to import or graft itself on to something else.." Noting Bonds tuxedo attire he paused for a second, "Nice bowtie." "What are you going on about 11?" Bond was confused while the Doctor was in one of his trademark frantic rants. "Usually I'm good with explanations. No, wait. Scratch that. I'm terrible. My two hearts aren't in it when I'm explaining stuff for too long. I'm from another universe. Well, not exactly. Parts of my universe are here." He pointed to his left. "Like I definitely recognise that chair." MoneyPondy grimaced further. "Can you slow down? You're not giving me a chance to insert the right amount of innuendo." James chimed it. "You can always insert my.." The Doctor was exasperated. "Right, right. Ok. You two want to be all humanly with each other. That's great. Put up a balloon. We have bigger things to worry about. Like the end of our two universes." Bond adjusted his cuff links. "To be honest I don't know what to make of any of this. The last time the universe was in danger, I dealt with it, with no small amount of style it must be said. Ernst Davros Blofeld had a giant infinity bomb and..." The Doctor interrupted him. "Look back where I'm from. This girl called River has done a thing and that's caused another thing and basically that whole universe is dying.  So the Tardis has tried to plug the holes of the universe with anything it could find. Every adventure we ever had, as separate beings are being forced together in a total event collage." "An event collage?" MoneyPondy sneered. "Why would that happen?" "Isn't it obvious? Well to anyone 900 years plus, it should be. The Tardis scanned any nearby stimuli to find elements to incorporate into the broken universe. Rory had a James Bond Box Set. In a multi-verse of infinite possibilities a universe where this piece of fiction actually exists must be out there. The Tardis would automatically seek out some sort of commonality. Although we're not that alike are we Mr.Bond?" "Well from what I know Doctor. We both have impeccable style. We are both British Institutions, we go through many female...ahem...assistants and we both..." "Regenerate. We become new people but remain constant! YES! That's it. Oh I am going to bloody kill River..." Bond dropped his wry tone for a moment. "River? I know a River. I mean I knew her. She...passed away. River Lynd. My first great passion." The Doctor smirked and slyly remarked. "First great passion huh? She'd love that..." Suddenly another woman walked into the Cardis front seat room. "James my love...?" MoneyPondy was incensed. "WHO IS THAT?" "That's Ms. Moans. A Ms. Martha Moans." This caused the Doctor to spin off into another tizzy. "NO! No! No! Can't you see what's happening? The deterioration is already beginning. Martha Moans?! That's not even a clever innuendo name!" Bond replied. "I assure you Doctor. Her name is entirely apt." The Doctor exhaled. "Oh Bond. I'm a fan of you as an idea but I can't say I agree with everything about your character. I met your creator once actually. Ian Fleming. Nice fella. Stubborn though. Got angry with me when I told him he shouldn't name that story 'Quantum of Solace'.." "Doctor, we'll head back to M(offat) Branch and await our orders. Brigadier Boothroyd Lethbridge Quebert could be a great asset here..."

Pond mumbled. "That name is quite a mouthful." Bond couldn't resist adding. "I'll tell you what else is a mouthful.." The Doctor was starting to get frustrated at the repartee. "STOP IT! We need to find a way to disentangle our universes. The internal logic of this place isn't strong enough to handle such an awkward amalgamation. Any slight unbalance and we could lose it all." The crackle of a vortex manipulator was heard and Martha was joined  by a shadowy figure. She addressed the visitor. "You're right. They're BOTH here." A maniacal laughter began to sound and the figure stepped slowly into the light. "GoldMaster!" exclaimed Bond. "Oh yes. Fun! Fun! The Doctor and the Spy. From Gallifrey to Skyfall. It's all been leading us to this moment. I've retained my memories of both universes and I have to say this awkward fusion is my kind of world." He held a key with a central locking control and pressed it. The door of the Aston Martin slid open and two Gold-plated Daleks entered the Cardis. The Doctor looked at Martha. "Why are you working for him?" Bond interjected. "It's classic for my universe old chap. There's always a good girl and a bad one. No use in "moan"-ing about it now." Martha taunted her ex lover. "Bet you haven't been this disappointed since Bad Jaws Bay." What happened there?" The Doctor asked. "My..wife Tracy Tyler got trapped in an alternate universe with my Connery incarnation. These things happen." The Doctor nodded knowingly. "Enough of this talk. Doctor, you are going to steer this Cardis back to the creation of the universe. I mean this universe is fine.." He looked around as he continued. "But I think it could use...a Midas touch." "You expect me to do that?" 11 snapped back. "No Doctor I expect you to die! Oh and keep coming back and dying again. I never get tired of that. Now come on. You know what they say 'No guts, no McClory!'" A Gold Dalek fired a beam that knocked MoneyPondy back towards the wall.  "Now drive this Cardis for me or the next time...I'll give her a proper Gold Star." The Spy cradled the wounded MoneyPondy. "You'll be ok." She could barely speak but whispered. "Promise me, I'll be ok. Promise me on something that matters." Bond thought for a second. "I promise on Albert Broccoli and Custard." She gave little smile before falling into unconsciousness. Angered Bond whipped out his gun and aimed it at GoldMaster. "Now there are two things I never miss. A golden opportunity or what I target with this gun. In this case they're the same thing." A serious expression appeared on GoldMaster's face. "None of you understand it. What I go through every day. The music. I hear it all the time. This cacophony of brass and drums. Over and Over again. 'Ba-da ba-da ba ba da dahhh bahhh ba-da bum..' It haunts me." "Welcome to the 'Theme'" came another unseen voice behind GoldMaster and Martha They were were both struck with a sonic lipstick blast.  "Solitaire Jane Smith, to the rescue!" She stood there confident with a robotic dog next to her. The markings on him read MI-6.  He blasted the two daleks. Delighted to see her Bond quipped. "You always were a master of the 'kiss off'." She approached Bond. "Solitaire is tired of playing a lonely game..." "Well Ms. Smith I always did find you...dalek-table." They embraced and began to kiss passionately.  The Doctor ran over to the Cardis controls. "Ok. I have an idea of how to dislodge us but...it's risky." Bond and Solitaire joined him at the controls. "The mistake my Tardis made..,"The Doctor explained, "is that she tried to mix the elements in such a way that they made a bit of sense. And now she's stirring it all in a big pot of narrative nonsense. Our only hope is to drive this Cardis back into our first moments. The opening adventures. The nexus point from where our legends began." He pushed a number of buttons and pulled on several levers. "We're going back to 'An Unearthly Casino'. The shock of us landing right back where it all started should be enough to shake us loose." "So what you're saying Doctor is that this shared universe of ours is a bit like a martini. It must be..." The Doctor and Bond spoke in unison. "SHAKEN NOT STIRRED!!" Bond and the Doctor smiled at one another.  "Geronimo!", they both said at the same time. And with that a flash of light and The Doctor awoke back on the Tardis. He could overhear Amy and Rory arguing about James Bond. "C'mon Amy, we'll just watch one. 'The Spy who Loved me.' It's a good one! Moore is fantastic in it" "Rory, we are in a spaceship that can go anywhere in space and time. Isn't that enough escapism for you? Do we really have to watch Bond?" "You're Scottish. You should love it." The Doctor appeared. "Alright Kids. I'm dropping you guys home for a bit. I have something I have to do." "Can't we help?" Amy inquired.  "Afraid not Pond."  Rory spoke up. "You're saying No, to us Doctor?" "Indeed. you should call me Doctor No!" ****************************************************************************************** River was lying on a bed in her cell at Stormcage when the familiar sound of the Tardis stirred her. "Hello Professor Song." "Doctor," she beamed back at him. "What would you say River, if I called you 'dalek-table'?" River was unimpressed. "What are you on about?" "Ha." The Doctor walked towards her. "I saved the universe again. You messed it up but you don't remember." "I'll take your word for it sweetie. So where are we off to tonight?" He took Rivers hand in his own. "I was thinking we'd stay in tonight." "You realise this is a cell right? I'm not much of a hostess." "Ha yes, but after saving the universe, paying my respects to an iconic character and having to put up with many groan inducing double entendres I was thinking...Isn't it about time I, just to cool off now...I...dove into my nearest River?" He took her in his arms. "Ohhh Doctor..." The Doctor and James Bond will return in... "From Rassilon, With Love"

An Illuminating Encounter

Sam was sick of waiting. The woman on the phone said the Electrician could arrive at any time on the Monday between the hours of 9am and 5pm. That was his whole day gone. He had to book some time off work, which hurt him more in principle than anything. He couldn't have gone in any way, not with this hanging over him. He felt very unfulfilled at his job and it was the one place his ideas were never heard or nurtured. So Sam killed some time, reading, watching TV but in all his pursuits he was distracted. Afraid he would lose it, if some part of his mind wasn't constantly dwelling on it. At 1.43, there was a knock on his door. Cursing the low door ways of his house he carefully ducked as he walked through them into the hallway. "Hello Sir, "came a cheery voice from the Electrician as he entered the house. "I'd ask what's the problem...but I have eyes. I can see it quite clearly!" Sam didn't need to point it out. Over his head, a few feet up, hung a light bulb floating in the air but totally dead and dark, as if someone had turned it off. "I've had this all weekend. Couldn't leave the house and there was no-one on call til Monday, "Sam fumed, leading the Electrician into his kitchen. They both sat at the table. "Thanks for coming out though." The Electrician replied. "Thank you for being here! You have no idea how often I go out to someones house and there's no-one to let me in." "So like a false alarm?" "Oh yeah, I have to remove false alarms from people psyches all the time!" Sam poured a drink for his guest. "Alright Buddy," the Electrician bellowed, "Talk me through it." "Ok, last Friday night, I came up with this ridiculously good idea. We're talking a game changer. Well maybe. I'm a sort of a part time inventor and well I was really excited but then...well this happened. The light bulb appeared over my head but it was switched off. Is this common?" "Sure, happens all the time. You see people are...y'know...tentative with ideas. On like a subconscious level. They worry it mightn't be thought out enough, or sometimes folk are afraid that their idea has been done before. It all depends on how you're wired man." Sam was anxious. "I'm afraid to take a shower! I don't want to get electrocuted!" The Electrician looked in his bag. Rifling through it, it was obvious he was trying to find some thing. He removed various forms of pliers, voltage indicators and insulation. Sam's eyes widened at each new tool that was laid on the table. It looked like it was going to be a physically taxing job. Finally the tradesman found what he was looking for. "There she is, at fucking last." He placed a messy notebook on the table along with a chewed on pen. Noticing Sam taking in all the hardware he laughed. "Oh no. No! This isn't for your job Lad. My next job is a husband and wife. Their relationship needs a little bit of a spark after all these years! For you ,all I need is a notebook." Sam was unsure about this. "For real?" The Electrician began to put away the miscellaneous equipment before testing that the pen could write. He looked up at the poorly illuminated Sam. "Basically we have got to work through your idea a bit more. Flesh it out. And boom, let there be light!" Sam shifted nervously in his chair. "Um...well....I'm not so sure about going through my idea..." "Jesus man, I'm not going to steal your idea. I'm happy with my lot in life and plus I've been privy to far more lucrative jobs than this. I think I'll beat temptation here." For the next hour Sam outlined his great idea. The Electrician was taking notes. As a seasoned worker, he asked the questions that needed to be discussed to ensure the ideas viability. Despite his initial hesitation Sam enjoyed the process and even indulged in a little give and take about the concept. 

Success! The light bulb over his head flickered to life and while it still remained that bit dim, it was nonetheless a nice soft light. "Ha, I wouldn't read by it, "The Electrician joked. "But as ideas go, it gets my volt!" Sam waved off the helpful Electrician, telling him he would have to be credited, should the plan come to fruition. "I'll just take the bill kid. It's my job!" Getting back into his van, he was dismayed to learn it would not start. "Fucks sake," he exhaled. "This is a state of the art vehicle here. It's meant to run on fumes!" A few more tries of the ignition proved fruitless. He took out his mobile and made a call. He was informed that it might take an hour or two for what he asked to be done. "Great, I'll just have to sit here then." He sank back into the drivers seat. "And wait for that damn Fumigator."

Emmet O'Brien takes on Superman.

Here is my review of Man of Steel. I've made it pretty much spoiler free but still approach with caution if you're trying to stay uninformed before the film is released!

All-Seeing

An evening mask or a pretty

pattern drawn

on the sky of your back

ready for nights waiting hand

the skeletal bottles collect

on the porch

ready for the warm house invite

and the patter of the confident booms strong

I can not wait til the calm

when all the violence is gone

but the walls as thin as whispers

and it reaches the sleeping mind

the inquisitive part

the seas are receding

faster than the beaches are formed.

We are still all the way put together

the slip of years warming the bones of youth

the body is a temple, on a Holy River

and no one descends from the mountains

to hear my truth

when the figures brush against me

and the naked boast they are all seeing

I can not remember for my life, anything

past the point of my own body, that the

light is now catching.

M

the ghostly air between the cars

i checked the moon obsessively like a watch

legs like trees caught in a typhoon

my exhale hoped it would brush against your breath

my head never pounded, in fact it sang

something old, the thing that falls behind

cabinets

the letters that become too tangled

to ever write

the dreams that rise to be the debris

of the heavens

these things re-discovered through you 

I felt like the lonely soul embraced 

back into a fold

the most simple paradox

of returning but still arriving for 

that first time

you leaned back with your legs coiled

hair swirled, words tumbled,

it was as if my iris stretched to breaking point

by the light of a thousand houses

but instead it was just a lazy gaze

my direction

amongst some greying figures

tiny stones that are strewn around

I dreamt I knew what to say

I dreamt your heart purred in reply

Unhooked

Peter Pan soared off once again into the sky of Neverland, Tinker-Bell  was by his side and she left a trail of fairy dust in her wake. The nefarious Hook waved his grotesque left hand at the sky cursing the young adventurers name. It was a typical day in the ever fanciful realm and Peter's last minute defeat of his nemesis was something you could set your crocodile-swallowed-watch by. But as soon as the heroes disappeared from view something had changed. Captain Hook had long been accustomed to being thwarted but in this instance he took it more to heart. Over the next few days the crew noted a change in his demeanour, his florid speech's conspicuous by their absence and he had holed up in his cabin. Those that peered in, saw the once indomitable scoundrel seem depressed and despondent. Needless to say they were  concerned. "Why do I have to go and talk to him?" Starkey rasped dreading the chore. "Because aint you a 'gentleman' Starks? That's what we'se calls you anyway."  Starkey knew he was being wrangled into doing what no-one else wanted to do. He was as much a "gentleman" as Peter Pan was an old timer. "Awright, awright. If I'm not back by the cock crow, tell that parlour wench, of which I'm fond, Ol' Starkey luvs her." He knocked hesitantly at Hooks door. Silence. After a few seconds he decided to take the risk and he crept in. The opening of the door allowed some faint light to spool in and it startled the slumped over pirate. "Who dares...?" Hook bellowed, rising from the ale soaked stupor he had drank himself into. "Awright Cap'n, the lads and me, we've been worried Guv. Seems you're not yourself since ol' Pan took flight, that way 'e does." "Starkey, continue this egress and there's a plank with not only your name on it but I will varnish it with your blood, you thug." Starkey gulped in fear. Hook peered at him, his eyes adjusting to the new light and after a moment of pregnant pause, his exterior seemed to thaw ever so slightly. He sighed. "Very well, enter my chamber. We will converse. I doubt your mewling demeanour could make my mood any worse than it already is".  With a little more confidence Starkey took up a chair at the small table, that Hook was at. "We don' want to pry or be seen to be botherin' you Cap'n but we are worried." Hook gave a short hearty laugh at this. "Ha, well I can't fault the crew for that. It is true that as your superior officer I am to set a tone and I have been re-miss these last few evenings." "You always give good tone Sir. A plundering wicked tone. Best ship I've ever been on." "Forgive me Starkey, but isn't my ship the only ship you've served on that hasn't sank or been blown out of the water? Of course it's the best ship. The greatest ship in all of Neverland..." He put out his arms expansively as he said this. He paused and repeated the word Neverland twice more, with a wistful tone. Shaking himself out of his contemplation he poured another drink for himself and slid the bottle over to his visitor. Starkey promptly, if a little nervously, poured himself a tipple.  "I know what you sea dogs are thinking. Why has the latest fight with that rapscallion so upset our noble leader?!" "Well Sir, I know it's not the best thing to always be...um...losing.." Hook eyed Starkey with a vicious stare. "Losing? Losing? Is that how you perceive these events? God..." He stood up and went over to his nearby book case. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, he had just needed to move from the gaze of his underling.  "Do you like riddles Starks?" "Um...I can't rightly say I do Guv." "Well I'm in the mood for giving you one. So pay attention. When does a man face both defeat and triumph in a single struggle?" Starkey was stumped. "Em..I think I'm going to be a-needin' some more details Cap..." Without warning, Hook slashed his book case with his mighty claw knocking over several volumes before facing Starkey once more. "People think that eternal boy bests me at every turn. But they understand nothing. It's not about victory or loss with that one. No he and I share a greater destiny." Starkey was shaken by the outburst and was struggling to keep his composure. Hook was ruthless and dangerous certainly but there was a honour to his dastardly deeds. He had never seen such an outburst of anger before. Well without there haven been a crocodile or a Lost boy nearby. He stuttered. "It's about the hunt is it then? The fight." "No..no. You don't understand. Nobody, save one, does. I wasn't always like this Starkey. The Cultured and bitter scoundrel you see before you. In my youthful days I plundered. I pillaged. But I enjoyed it.  Sailing the seas, sacking ships. Witnessing wonders and sights even Neverland couldn't match. I may have been less than virtuous but I had a sense of beauty and appreciation for this now wretched world." He slumped back down into his chair and tapped his glass with his hook. "I thrilled to the new and to discovery. Until...I stole a treasure from a powerful witch that was." Starkey mumbled. "A witch. Like a real life witch." Hook replied. "Well she didn't have warts Starks but yes she and her cursed coven placed a spell on me following some thievery." "Cap'n, what did they do?" Hook hesitated. "Oh you silly man. Don't you get it? Peter Pan...is me!" Starkey was stunned and deeply confused. "Peter Pan is Smee? But that makes nooo sense..." Hook snarled in frustration. "NOT SMEE, YOU DAFT HALF WIT!  ME! Pan is me." The drinks had been knocked over but neither had noticed. "The spell the Witches cast, it took something from me. Deep down. My inner child. The part that experiences wonder and immaturity and keeps more youthful reactions ticking over in a persons mind. It sliced off a part of my soul and moulded it into that youthful and mischievous thorn in my side." "You're Peter Pan?? He is you? You are he?" Starkey was dumbfounded. "Why do you think he never grows up? He is a manifestation of infernal and eternal optimism and roguishness. Without my inner child anchoring my soul, I became this. A bitter and cynical pirate. Wealthy but never happy." "Does he know Sir?" "I doubt it. Even though all the clues are there. It's why he loses his shadow so often. Haven't you ever wondered about that? Why It's barely connected? It is what remains of my wickedness, a part that merely skims the surface of his brash exterior." "But then you can never..." "Win, Starkey? True. I can never win and the fight will continue for all eternity." Hook walked over to a window that peered out to sea. "On my stronger days I almost cheer for him. There must be something so wonderful about never having to face the tangled world of adulthood. You know...I was the one who named this realm...Neverland." "Flamin' eck," Starkey exclaimed. "I thought it was because of the magic here." "No, it's my own private little joke. it's because I want him to always be flying above such petty problems and grown up troubles If he ever "lands" then it means his magical existence is over. Kaput. Philosophers say good versus evil is the never-ending struggle. I face a stranger battle. Wonder versus Worldliness. Cynicism versus Optimism. I have been sad these last few days, not because of him escaping, certainly not bu because of how close I came to actually defeating him..." A heavy silence followed. Starkey's worried breathing had become quite audible and he wasn't sure what to say following the Captains confession. "Just go, you cur." Hook muttered, his tone resigned and broken. Starkey got up to leave, still reeling from the secret he had become privy to. He began realis what a precarious position he was now in. Would the dreaded Captain Hook allow an subordinate to walk around knowing this secret? He nervously looked back to make sure Hook was not planning a swift attack to silence him forever.  The Captain remained at the window staring aimlessly out into the ocean. Relaxing a little, Starkey once more turned to the door. It was then a sharp sudden pain went through his entire being and he looked down to see a dark hook plunged into his chest. It was black and featureless. He had been stabbed by Hooks shadow. In his last moments he realised the truth. Just as it was for Peter Pan, Hooks shadow was too a playful sprite, albeit a far deadlier creature. Starkey slumped to the floor, dead. His body was quietly thrown over board by the rest of the crew. They spoke nothing of it, all assuming he had angered the Captain and had been dutifully punished.  Hook marched onto the deck of the ship and was asked by the Helmsman if they needed to change course. After a second of consideration he whispered softly "Second to the right and straight on til morning..."

"Excuse me Cap'n?" The Helmsman hadn't heard the order properly. Hook responded.  "Oh no. No new bearing. We are on this heading. We can't change course now."

Love On Trial

Love waltzed up to the witness stand

He had nothing to hide, he was a legitimate

business man,

in a dapper suit, looking like a real beaut,

he took an oath on the bible, crossed his heart,

after a sip of water the cross examination could start.

The lawyer paused, his mind filled with thoughts

of old flames burning, nostalgia out of its box "Mr. Love" he stood as he began,

his tone the biased one of the celibate man,

"Tell the court what it is you,

as the embodiment of Love actually do?"

"Well," replied Love, with a strong baritone,

" try and make sure no one ends up alone".

"That dance in your stomach when you notice someone

Those days that look bright even in the absence of Sun

When you notice special people,

the ones that spin in a circle

inside your head.

The Chills, that's what I give you, it pays the bills

and keeps me well fed."

"So, you're a humanitarian, can turn the bookish boy

into a barbarian,

you inspire poets and the don't know its,

the dreamers, you give truth to believers,

Well Mr. Love you're caught out, if that's even your

real name which I very much doubt.

I propose you're a fraud, a money grubbing toad

who was making a living, of sucking people in

and you feel you'd sweeten the deal

by allying yourself with that man!

Let the record show, that I did and know-

­lingly point to the month of February not Jan!

That both of you started to hope,

that if you schemed, you could be teamed

up and take, the money people make

with a dirty trick of telling folks,

to be romantic on this day more than most!"

Defence counsel objects, "This is a terrible outburst

it makes no diference, he hasn't the evidence

to back up his claims, alibis check out, I don't see any names

of people to support or refute, but I guess it doesn't hurt to dispute

but his argument is to his cases detriment

it makes him look witless,

your honour, please use your power,

he's badgering the witness!

and Romance isn't dead,

the bullet only grazed his head.

He's in a bad way, I think he's in a coma,

We'll have to wait see if the police locate

that blue Toyota.

There's no case here, they're in denial

I say we move to a mis-­trial!" The Judge stony faced and taciturn

remarked "When it comes to love

even the scholarly have much to learn.

I don't know if Mr. Love is indeed

a co-conspirator in this act of greed.

If he and Feb got together,

to see if they could help one another,

but Love has made mistakes in the past

the crimes committed in his name are vast.

Then again the man has made such beauty

that even a old warhorse such as I am forced

to concede.

Romance was the first victim

but this isn't just about him

I say this to you Prosecutor.

Where was the defendant on the night

of the Valentines Massacre?!

Oh I've been a judge a long long time

but even I think this a heinous crime

and the case is a mess,

Let me consider the evidence presented,

is Mr. Love a good man or is he demented

I'll make my ruling after a short recess!" While I hate to end on something of a stiff clanger All questions of Love must invariably end on a cliffhanger...

Chilly

The smile in the dark Of the potential dangers the safe shores framed by your beacon glow the sun gilded sheen And your rhythm  chimed like the heartbeat of stones along that country walk The blue of the sky softening to something chilly above us . Some narratives I would never cling to, ghost stories in the teeth of fiction The touch of a hand in that false night grants an audience to such things. Shoo away the onset of heavy dusk til the song of morning sounds.

Review: The Stone Roses: Made of Stone (dir Shane Meadows) - Noise

Review of Shane Meadows' film The Stone Roses: Made of Stone.

A piece I wrote for wearenoise.com on the Shane Meadows music documentary Made of Stone.