Wednesday, 15 November 2017

Come The Hour...

Come the hour

When this world sees fit

To remove my tired shape

From the confines

Of this mortal coil

May the universe allow

That I should journey onwards

To forever dwell

Amongst the words of masters

In that great library in the sky

Poem Only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard 

Tuesday, 31 October 2017

Teddy & Me...

Teddy and me

Wanted beans for tea

'Cos beans for tea

We adore

If Teddy and me

Had had beans for tea

Mummy wouldn't have been

On the floor

Poem only ©  Copyright Lynn Gerrard 

Thursday, 26 October 2017

Heaven & Hell...


Born not of Heaven

But of Hell

For surely

Only the Devil himself

Could so cruelly appoint

That which would tear us apart

Where monsters fail

Poem only  © Copyright Lynn Gerrard




Onward goes

Our Death-day clock

Poem only  © Copyright Lynn Gerrard


Each day is but

A mirror of the last

A doleful tribute

To the misery

Of the past

© Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Bread, Buns an' Bacteria...

Despite my propensity to embrace all things gross and disturbing, I find the open bakery counter in supermarkets quite gut-churning. You know the ones I mean, the ones where the public are encouraged to pluck their own pastries from the exposed counter display before them.

And here's where my problem lies. Science tells us that every minute of the day we lose about 30,000 - 40,000 dead skin cells off the surface of our skin. That's almost 4 kilograms a year!

Consequently, wherever we go we're leaving a trail of shed skin behind us...and it has to land somewhere, doesn't it? Can you see where I'm going with this?

And yes, I know the same principle of plummeting-dead-flesh-flakes could be applied to other exposed foodstuffs in supermarkets and the like BUT most of that stuff, such as fruit and veg, can either be washed before use or is cleansed during the cooking process.

You can't do that with a baguette or a Danish pastry, can you? 

And then, of course, there's other bodily projectile residue to consider.

Take sneezes, for example.

One sneeze can ejaculate 40,000 snot droplets at a speed of 200 miles an hour over a distance of 8 metres carrying with it around 100,000 germs.

Yep...and if you happen to be passing the bakery counter at that very moment when your nose explodes, well, there we have another interesting ingredient to add to our expelled epidermis as it speedily journeys to rest upon the croissants and the floury bread rolls.

Oh, and let's not forget the dietary accompaniment a cough can provide when one's bronchial tubes are secreting a medley of mucous. Actually, I think I'll leave that one right there 'cos my knee-jerk reaction to all things spittoon is about to kick in with a series of dry heaves that'll send me over the edge!

I mean, ok, some places try to reduce the possibility of a flurry of flesh-flakes and other bodily detritus coating our buns an' stuff by placing them behind a perspex screen and by providing tongs but not all retail outlets do that.

Oh yes, most DO provide the tongs but few people use them, preferring instead to grab and fondle the food with their bare hands...and do we really want to contemplate where those hands might have been!!!

Only the other day I witnessed a middle-aged guy, at the kind of open counter I'm rambling on about, use his genitals as a fidget toy before applying the same hand to a batch of crusty cobs, fondling each with the same enquiring enthusiasm he had his nethers.


And don't forget, every time we touch a something minute particles of that something accumulates beneath out fingernails so gawd only knows what kind of adventurous microorganisms could be transferring themselves from grubby mitts to the doughy landscape of our barms an' baps an' beyond!

Anyway, that's me finished...I just thought I'd share a bugbear of mine with you before leaving you with this thought...

 © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Wednesday, 25 October 2017

His Lips...

His lips told her

He loved her

His eyes told her

He lied

Her heart told him


Her tears told him


Poem only  © Copyright Lynn Gerrard


The world is just

A carousel

Where baffled souls

Revolve until

Their ride is over

Then off they fly

Too old to live

Too young to die

Poem only  © Copyright Lynn Gerrard



As you pass me by

Know where you walk

So once walked I

Where I am now

You could be too

Wondering would a stranger

Stop and talk to you

Poem only  © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Thursday, 31 August 2017


Attics full of mystery

And other people's history

Dark, dank corners

Hiding long dead shapes

Poem only  © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Sunday, 20 August 2017

Let Us Prey...

The parish priest

Peddles through town

Preying on sinners

'Fore the sun goes down

Poem only  © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Saturday, 12 August 2017

Moments Spent...

Oh, the ache

Of moments spent

How swiftly

The years unfold

And fade away

Poem only  © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Monday, 5 June 2017

Holiday Cat An' Me....

A little while ago, whilst holidaying on the idyllic island of Majorca, an unlikely friendship was formed between myself and a rather beautiful, calico feline after she sashayed into the grounds of the villa one day and instantly made herself at home.

Here are our own separate diary entries each documenting the tender evolution of our wonderful palship...
I have arrived....
prepare to adore me, human....

Day 1, Me:

Cat appeared from nowhere...very friendly...decided to give her treats. Have called her 'Holiday Cat' aka 'Meow-Meow'.

Day 1, Cat:

Another human arrived from 'Who gives a shit'...particularly malleable...decided to purr for her to acquire treats. Have called her 'Sucker' aka 'Sucker'.

Day 2, Me:

Wonderful to be greeted on terrace this morning by Meow-Meow...her affectionate rubbing around my legs brought even more joy to an already glorious day.

Day 2, Cat:

Wonderful to rid self of build-up of evening's shite by rubbing fur on legs of Sucker...brought much relief to an already itchy day.

Day 3, Me:

Relaxing here by the pool in the brilliant sunshine, I cannot help but gaze and ponder upon the graceful dexterity of Meow-Meow as, through a series of well-practiced licks, she scrupulously tends to her personal hygiene regimen. Nature truly is a wonderful thing.

Day 3, Cat:

Sprawled here in the blinding sunshine, I cannot help but wonder why Sucker persists to stare at me so intensely and at length as I lick my arse...voyeurism truly is a worrying thing.

Day 4, Me:

This morning, opened balcony door...Meow-Meow deposited mouse by feet...screamed...found courage to grab slice of ham to distract her...rescued mouse and placed in box to recover.

Day 4, Cat:

Gift well received...Sucker squealed with what can only be interpreted as delight...took offering away obviously to devour in private. Slice of ham reward for my generosity. Hm...more rodent gifts to follow methinks.

Day 5, Me:

Does this LOOK like
my happy face???
Arrived back from sightseeing jaunt later than expected...good to be welcomed by harmonious mewling of a very patient Meow-Meow endearingly unperturbed by the lateness of the evening meal I always prepare for her.

Day 5, Cat:

Where the f**k has she been all day and where the f**k is my food!

Day 6, Me:

Thunder and lightning raging across sky...despite my fear of it I cannot leave Meow-Meow to endure it outside alone...I shall sit with her, stroke her and bring her comfort.

Day 6, Cat:

Whole evenings ratting ruined by my having to babysit soft-shite, Sucker.

Mmm...sardines...whoopie f*****g  woo!!!

Day 7, Me:

My last day at the villa...dreading saying goodbye to Meow-Meow tomorrow...tonight will be her last treat of the tinned sardines she so adores.

Day 7, Cat:

For God's sake, when will Sucker and her sardine obsession sod off back home! breath reeks and my oily farts are knocking me sick!

Day 8, Me:

Never expected to get so attached to Meow-Meow...will miss her morning greetings...will miss the company of her gentle softness...will miss the soothing hum of her purring...will miss her...

Day 8, Cat:

Never expected to get so attached to Sucker...will miss her morning greetings...will miss the  company of her gentle strokings...will miss the soothing hum of her noises....will miss.......hold on...are those new people arriving???......Sucker?...Who the hell is Sucker???...

MEOW-MEOW looking after SUCKER during the storm

© Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Saturday, 11 February 2017



Who have


Would give me


Yet I

Who have little

Would give you


Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Saturday, 14 January 2017

Another's Shoes...

A day spent

In another's shoes

May expose a weary trail

Spend but a moment

In their head

To truly witness pain.

 © Copyright Lynn Gerrard


As for the children

There was a deadness

In their eyes

And a darkness

In their souls

For they 

Had been burdened

With the sins of 

Their forefathers

And would be

Forever blighted.

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Fragile Heart...

A heart so fragile

Made of glass

Holding teardrops

From the past

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard