one

I can't decide if the Land Rover Defender will be navy blue or camouflaged or decked out in Daktari livery.



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What I do know is that it will be basic and definitely needed on the multi acre property… it will have vinyl seats (of course) because that will make it easier to wash down when the dog jumps up onto the front seat …one dog (maybe more than one) and a goat or a sheep or perhaps a goat and a sheep I don't know whether a goat needs a name.

Gary the goat



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I suppose that means that the sheep has to be called Shaun. I think the sheep in Father Ted was called Chris (probably the least sheep-like name imaginable), and one of the rooms will house my train set and another will be my Bedouin room with carpets and hangings and cushions and another will be the music room with a turntable…



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Apart from that I don't really care.

And of course outside there will be a Japanese garden with a dry zone and a wet zone with a bridge, and Koi Carp and stuff like that

I want to hear the sounds of life of distant piano I want to smell baking while sitting beside the burbling kettle bubbling away on the range while drinking tea and eating bacon sandwiches.

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Women and girls rule my World

Insouciance


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Ramshackle!

Decrepit? Like me?

My incept date is 20th June 2029

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A rare shot of me looking for my Father.

Soon, Peter, soon

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Some images of cafe life in Paris…á la prochaine fois…



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There is hardly enough room for the chairs on the pavement and the tables and the pedestrians… but it doesn't seem to matter does it?


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Looks like it's Christmas doesn't it?

Can you see the wreath on the chalkboard and the candles on the tables, mmmm, candles…



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For some reason there's no car in this shot, not really sure why.



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I think we can say with some certainty that the person with the red rucksack is a tourist. No sense of style!



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Deux monsieurs…



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The plants, the chalkboards, the empty tables…



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three
The wrong thing to do

I bought my overnight bag
Does that shock you?
I hope I'm not too forward
But I want to spend the night with you

I had wanted to kiss her but not too soon
And not too late
I didn't want to disappoint her or to make her wait

When we left the restaurant I guided her to the right
Down the lane into the shadows
And the kiss felt so right

Her tears changed the shirt
From light blue to dark blue
Only then, did we both know
That it was the wrong thing to do



The naming of parts

I wonder if there is a shortage of thoughts?
Am I being unrealistic or too demanding?
Perhaps I've lost perspective and lost the plot
Expecting my own children to show understanding
-which in their case, they have not got

I wonder if there's a shortage of feelings?
How else do I explain being treated as if I have leprosy?
Perhaps living as a pariah is to be my lot?
Maybe this explains the lack of empathy
-which in their case, they have not got

I wonder why it's so hard to engage in reconciliation?
Perhaps they started once but it's now unfinished business
We're all human, we all have a blind spot which might explain the lack of forgiveness
-which in your case, you have not got

I wonder if there's a shortage of love, so scarce it has to be doled out in a ration?
Creating a schism between those who have and those who have not?
Maybe the same has happened to your compassion
-which in your case, you have not got



The man in the mirror

“That Tommy Chatterton
he’s always in the pub
He’s a terrible alcoholic!”
-but there’s the rub

How would my Dad know?
He too was in The Royal Oak!
The drunk in the pub mirror
Was indeed an old soak

It wasn’t Tommy Chatterton
Visible in the reflection
My father couldn’t see
He was engaged in projection

Of course I am likely guilty
I can almost guarantee
That the faults I see in others
Are actually present in me



Never put it back on

There is a word to describe what I felt 'dissociation'
But I didn't know that at the time
I thought it was a simple way of numbing the sensation
But the pain has stayed with me a lifetime

I took off my ring and left it on the dresser
And one day I decided not to put it back on
She pretended that she was not the aggressor
"I'm protecting my kids!" But one day I was gone

I walked out without a goodbye or a sendoff
And as far as you being the victim...come on!
That wasn't so much that I took the ring off
But that I never put it back on



A lasting testament

A zephyr blew me through the cemetery
Past neatly tended graves in symmetry
I saw my own likeness in a sepulchre
I gasped "It cannot be!" but I did not err

"Here lies Paul Eugene Rogers born in 1959
A decent man who coloured inside the line
Despised by his daughter, hated by his son
Demonised for something he'd never done"



A hole in my life

There are tears on this page
Shed just for you
Though you left me long ago
I still ache for you in old age

There is a hole in my life
Shaped just like you
Torn out of my flesh
Not excised with a knife.

I miss you more with every breath
Yearning to be with you
But I won't have to wait too long
Until we are reunited, in death



We spend a third of our lives asleep

I banged my head on the bed base
And my tears still flow
You could tell by the look on my face
The pain lingers from 50 years ago

I banged my head on the bed base
You thought it was the mattress
I could tell by the look on your face
Your laughter was replaced by sadness

I banged my head on the bed base
I've learned to forgive you
It wasn't the worst thing to take place
That was being taught to hate you



The seventh wave

The incoming tide taunts me "Where has your life gone?
Swept out to sea on the seventh wave?"
"I have my daughter!" I protested, "I have my son!"
At least I have something left to save!"


Of course it is my fault, it is me standing in the dock
It is my choices that have brought me here
So I can't say the verdict was much of a shock
But the sentence made me shed a silent tear


My life is a story of failure, of unfulfilled promise
I threw it all away, I listened to the siren's call
Seduced onto the rocks, betrayed by a kiss
But there's no doubt; I am to blame for it all


"You journeyed far but you have no place to call home!"
"Debt rich and asset poor, you never savoured the intimacy you say you crave!"
The incessant tide whispers over the grey waves' wind-blown foam;
"You left no footprint, your 'legacy' washed away by the very next wave!"





The boy behind the glass

We walked to the zoo three abreast
Naming all the animals we hoped to see
Lions, tigers and snakes and all the rest
-but that day did not end quite so happily

We saw tigers in a cage
And we saw snakes in a tank
We saw seals in a pool
We saw the lions behind a fence

As the two of us left through the gate
We spoke of freedom and civilisation
We left the animals to their fate
Trapped in a prison of our creation

We saw spiders behind glass
And we saw locusts behind glass
We saw lizards behind glass
We saw crabs trapped behind glass

Suddenly, we both looked at each other
Silence fell, even the snakes stopped hissing
“Si
ân!", I said, "where is your brother?"
I was then that we knew Jackson was missing

No one had seen him, no one had a clue
"He's thin and fair and gentle and kind!"
But everyone was busy and had things to do
"Try lost property, you might find... "

"He's here!" cried Si
ân, pointing to a door
He was crouched there, sitting all alone
I think it was Jackson, I couldn't be sure
I couldn't see his face, just his iPhone

We tapped on the glass, called out his name
But he couldn't hear us, he played with his phone
We tried everything, but it was all the same
He ignored us, and just played with his phone

And so people tap on the glass, he plays with his phone
Girls offer him their number, he plays with his phone
Sian starts a conversation, he plays with his phone
I wrote him poems, he plays with his phone

And so as the story has unfurled
The tale of the loveliest boy I have ever known
People come from all over the World
To tap on the glass of the boy and his iPhone





Song for my boy

The birds were roosted and the last party goers already snoring
sodium yellow streets carried no traffic, not a single car or truck
dutifully observed the speed limit lest pairs of eyes were watching
save for one lone blinking red light, pedalling through the resting
streets as if he had no soft pillow to rest on, or no Mother to tuck
him under enveloping warmth, instead the lonely figure is racing
noiselessly through pools of green, beckoning him past nesting
birds dozing unaware of the night-stalker’s joyous outpouring



This is my time

It’s simply not true is it that time flies
well not for me waiting for my imminent demise
no vacuous platitudes will save my sorry ass
so I welcome the inevitability that I too will pass
no bells will ring no alarm will chime
but when it comes I will know that it is my time


Of course I’m full of regrets so many ”why’s?”
but I expect no answer before my unlamented demise
no revelations that are not in the looking Glass
just a lingering sadness at the moment that I pass
That I have been judged for who knows what crime
no matter I will know that this is my time


I’m not downcast instead I look up to the skies
and smile at the prospect of a blessed demise
I’m not maudlin or melancholy that would be crass
I’m rather relaxed about the fact that we all pass
and I’m getting old I’ll well passed my prime
so when it comes I’ll be glad that this was my time



About time

Once upon a time
I had a whole lifetime
I could do it anytime
Perhaps In the Spring time
Maybe the Summer time
But now its Winter time
And I've run out of time



What's do funny about peace love and understanding?

The pillow moist with tears
until the first rays of sunshine
Cause my sadness to cease
“Let it shine!” so I can feel some peace

Is this how I’ll spend my final years?
Replaying the past, thinking of you?
I wish it was something we could rise above
“I want you to” choose love, love

Night’s shadows shelter my fears
What did I do? What crime did I commit?
I’ll plead guilty, say it was all a misunderstanding
“You’ve got to feel it”, feel some understanding



The man in me

At first I didn't recognise him
I stared at him as if he was a stranger
He looks back at me with a grin

I felt no fear. I was excited as a pup
Going on a walk with no sense of danger
At no stage did I realise that my time was up

His face shared the same features as my own
This was no imposter. Not even a doppelgänger
"Grab your things, I've come to take you home"



Sunshine of my life

Do they just give up? Autumn's falling leaves?
Watching their last journey make me melancholy
Not even the weak rays of the setting sun deceives
the birds flocking to escape their inevitable destiny

I'm envious of their aerial dance but I cant escape
my fate, no point in pretence, deception or lying
Like the leaves I will become part of the landscape
The sun is setting on my life and I'm slowly dying



Stewed Apple

Stewed apple on his face, stewed apple in his hair
Not much left in the jar, but stewed apple everywhere!

The last spoonful carried aboard an aeroplane
Looping the loop and asked to go around again

"Big blue eyes followed the spoon's flight path..."
-that's what I said in the aftermath

He suddenly jammed the spoon into my eye
The pain was sickening I just wanted to die

"You were never a father to me you were never there"
"Whenever I needed you you were elsewhere"

What was nurtured over decades is now finished
I am condemned and I must be punished

When I occasionally allow myself to reminisce
It always ends the same; I do not deserve this



I knew straight away it was broken

It was never the same
The monster truck. I mean
My son didn't mean it, of course
He was just excited with his present
But I knew straight away it was broken
My heart

Everything was twisted and bent
The monster truck I mean
I forgave him at once, of course
I'm not the sort to bear a grudge
But I knew straight away it was broken
My heart



Forever in my debt

There's no need to know the facts
When you have right on your side
Who cares about detail that your story lacks?
Not you, you wear your certainty with pride.

Right and wrong. True or false, good and bad
You make up your own mind straight away
You do not hesitate to condemn your own dad,
He did wrong, and must be made to pay and pay

The fact that he did pay and pay and pay
is something that you conveniently forget
His sacrifices made you the person you are today
You have rich experience, and he was left in debt

No doubt there is something that you lacked
Love, respect, time whether true or not
Your certainty, makes it an undeniable fact
As for his denials, they count for naught.

I wonder if you have any self doubt
and worry, if you are judgmental or self righteous
Is that something you ever think about
And reflect, if you're being smug, or sanctimonious

Perhaps there are some things that you don't know
But no doubt, you do not want to hear about that
“Oh no, please tell me that it isn't so!”
But it is. You smug, self-righteous judgemental twat



A field guide to self-pity #43

I have tried to save everyone
But myself
Many have listened to my advice
But myself
Everyone seems so content
But myself

No sex, no love, no house
For me
The phone gets more attention
Than me
I feel so empty, lost and sad
For me

I should call her on her phone
"Hello! I'm lying next to you
Feeling so lost, feeling so alone"
But my calls never get through
What's the point?



Don't open the box

Her knees ached as she tended to the grave
Watering memories and rearranging flowers
Deciding which to forget and which to save
She thinks about the box in the long dark hours
But the box does not contain her fears

Death hasn't stopped her communicating
But my kids don't speak to me any more
Although I am not yet dead just waiting
Does the box help? I'm not really sure
I haven't opened the box in years

Why pretend that I don't even exist?
Maybe I've been bad and this is karma
My needs, wishes and hopes all dismissed
The box offers no protection.
It's not armour. It's not some talisman taken to extremes.

It's not a magic box, but it's not what it seems
I only realized this when I stopped being carefree
If it held regrets it would be bursting at the seams
When I'm gone, maybe I'll leave you the key?
What's in it? The box contains my dreams.



Well, well, well

Well, what on earth am I supposed to think?
I popped the question and the answer was not "yes!"
Put it down to 'experience' and not let my heart sink?
What I'm supposed to do next is anyone's guess

Well, what on earth am I supposed to feel?
I popped the question and the answer was not "yes!"
Just 'build a bridge' and 'start to heal'?
My emotions are all over the place. I'm a mess

Well, what on earth am I supposed to do?
I built a bridge and suggested engagement
But 'no go' that was brushed away too
Maybe it isn't me who has the problem with commitment?



What I wouldn't do

Oh Peter, oh Peter, why did you have to go?
What I wouldn't give to spend an hour with you
Time would pass in an instant. I know
But what I wouldn't do

Oh, Father, oh father. I wish you were here
You could tell me your stories. Your triumphs too
I could share my sadness and cry into my beer.
What I wouldn't do

Oh Father. oh father. I miss you more every day
Unless I'm grieving for me not being a father too?
And I've displaced my grief. Who can say?
Maybe I'm weeping for what I can't do?

Oh Jackson and Siân you have crushed my soul.
Given the choice of Peter, or you I know I'd rather
Spend time with you and play the role
That has been denied to me; Paul Rogers, father.



No smoke without fire

When I said "She hits me!" they didn't call me a liar
'C'mon!" they said "She is hardly an Amazon!
And anyway, there's no smoke without fire!"
What next? "Where have all the good men gone?"



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