Street Philosopher

 

Hey, dude! Get over yourself.

Sure, you never asked to be,

but here you are.

It’s just the way it is.

Anyway, it’s only a gig.

You know, play a few tunes.

Tell a couple of jokes.

Make a bit of money.

Money’s good. Right?

It pays for the bus ride,

and when you get to your stop,  

end of journey. Right?

Sure, the bus goes on,

but you ain’t on it.

If you get my drift.

John Walter Taylor

© All rights reserved

31 December 2024

Under Siege by Science

 

Celestial Selene,

basking in reflected glory

as you shape-shift in the dark

to mark the passing months.

Once a bright-haired goddess

with a crown of crescent moon.

Queen of the night in a gleaming chariot,

but innocent of who controlled the reins

that fixed you to a horse-mill’s track,

and redefined your role as Gaia’s bitch,

brought to heel by the pull of her choke chain.

 

John Walter Taylor

© All rights reserved

12 December 2024

HANOVER STREET

 

Moss between the cobblestones.

The only green to be seen

beneath the chimney-pot pall.

Sleeves rolled up,

brownstoning the front step.

Don't want the neighbours talking.

Skipping rope rhymes.

One end tied to the lamppost.

Knee socks round the ankles.

Stood in a doorway,

fleshy arms folded across a flowery pinny.

'Mind the cart-road', she shouts.

Net curtains twitching.

'Doesn't miss a bleedin' thing.

Nosey old sod!'

Queuing at the corner shop

for two ounces of boiled ham,

dolly blue and ten Woodbines.

Coal dust and a damp cap.

Hundred-weight sack on his back.

'That's Ten and six, Mrs.'

Rush to stroke the dray horse.

'Oi! Clear off, you lot.'

Run like hell, laughing.

Friday night, chip shop, cod

wrapped in News of the World,

advertising vinegar.

Old man Jenkins singing

We'll Meet Again. Fortissimo.

Arrangement by best bitter. 

Next door again!

'Have you got a shilling for the meter?'

'Sorry, love, I've only a few coppers.'

Nothing left now.

Gone from Google Maps.

Damnatio memoriae.

John Walter Taylor

© All rights reserved

6 December 2024

Bridgewater Street

 

On a canvas of slate-grey flagstones

lie the treasures of an October leaf fall,

cut-outs of a collage,

fixed by a light rain,

and boasting a palette of subtle hues

redolent of pumpkins, plums and a dash of mustard.

Siennas, ochres, and apple jades juxtaposed.

A self-assembled masterpiece,

wrought from windy chaos,

and too lovely to walk on.

John Walter Taylor

© All rights reserved

3 December 2024