Bookies share festival fears

'Who do we fear? Put simply, the Irish'

a similar 'greenwash' again this year.

Mullins shuffles his powerful pack

it could be the last race of his career.

Do not mind where the winners are trained,

multiple mayhem causing most sleepless nights.

All the ingredients are in place

which sets the handicaps alight.

There will be the plunge horses – as yet unknown

these short ones costly if they all oblige.

Two classy rivals go head-to-head,

handicap horses who come alive.

(from The Racing Post, Friday 11 March 2022)

in Deer Head Nation style!

Black Hole

(A 'Terminal' poem based on 'Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art' by John Keats)

Black hole, how destructive thou art

unseen, yet consuming the night.

Tearing planets and stars apart

not for you the life of Eremite.

Annihilation your only task,

nothing escapes your distant shores,

What evil lives behind your mask

that would crush valleys, towns and moors?

Your violent ways unchangeable,

no compassion found within your breast,

your greed intent to make your boundaries swell

continually toiling in unrest.

But one day you will take a final breath,

Your appetite will bring your death.

About poetry

So,

how do we show

that poetry is more than words in a row?

Sympathy, poverty

the depths of despair

poetry can take us there.

Putting a twist on the daily grind

Helping to explain what's on our mind.

A beautiful view, terrible weather

Being alone, being together.

A valentine's card

The horrors of war

examples of what poetry's for.

It might not always be appealing

And on the surface, unrevealing

But poetry provokes a feeling.

The Village Centre

A stained satellite dish looks down

On a shorts day, mustard trousers join a queue
The blind Westie in a red collar hesitates at the sound of traffic
The 'g' and 'e' are missing
A Maserati looks out of place
I don't know the names of trees.

Russell Hobbs: My Secret History

The storm reaches fever pitch
Blink
Wild flowers, rocks and minerals

Let's make a plan
Play I-Spy
Sing a soviet song

Touch me, Sparklebright
Drink chai with me you happy egg
While I'm basking in your six perfections

I'm sorry, I love you.

The Microscope

One Christmas, many years ago
(I think that I was nine or so)
my biggest Christmas present hope
came true. I had a microscope!

We set it up. My dad and I'd
put a hair under the slide
I focused in and what was there?
It was a slightly bigger hair.

I looked again and I could see
the microscope was not for me.

Have I been good?

I've brushed my teeth, the way I should
For the last six months. Have I been good?

Do I need a filling or extraction
which would provoke a sad reaction

The dentist prods, there is no pain
Have I managed to escape again?

But then she finally says, with gravity
"Upper left six, occlusal cavity."