London TODAY

Yellow construction flashing lights. Flashing lights of blue.

Traffic poles on every corner glaring red at you.

Engines revving, fumes a spewing, screaming voices down a phone.

Nowadays there’s no place where one can truly be alone.

Atrocious parking, no one caring! Poisons pollute the air.

Ugly selfishness surrounding me everyday and everywhere!

London in chaos with bureaucrats holding each other’s hand.

What fools are we to think that City Hall might understand.

Politicians pockets bulging by spreading misery,

Londoners abandoned to wallow in agony.

Big Ben chimes in rhythm to the ever swallowing greed

Of people who have everything by ignoring those in need!

© 2016, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.

Posted in Author/Writer, Raconteur | 8 Comments

Time To Come

Time To Come

From the earnest, solemn whispers of promises to come

To the whispering slap of the bullet from the gun

There were few records of that which had changed

That innocent child to a madman deranged.

If words could speak louder and reverse the shape

Of the acceptance of the inevitable without escape

From the decimating power that fires from a gun

Then promises could be kept in the time that’s to come.

© 2016, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.

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Puddles of reflection are like mirrors to the mind.
Images left behind you with their view redefined.
A canopy of cover, a buffer to the pain.
Puddles of reflection rippling in the rain.

© 2016, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved

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Heart or Head?

If I were to compare the things that I’ve done right

To the things where I’ve failed

Then the failures would come out on top,

But there has been more that I’ve attempted when the chances arose

Than those I ignored and did not.

To look back, to assess, to judge what was I

Is an impossible task to attempt.

As decisions were based on only what I knew

Not prejudiced by future contempt.

To have seen the future from that present eye

Demanded wisdom beyond my grasp,

But I tell you true as stand here today

It would still be my heart that I would I clasp.

© 2016, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.

Posted in Author/Writer, Raconteur | 3 Comments

The Semi-Colon Who Wanted To Be Laid


The little semi-colon sat with a conscience heavily weighed.
In the corner, he waited patiently with the hope of getting laid
(don’t jump to conclusions)
On a page not written but gasping to get out,
From the writer’s mind as he struggled with the form
Of emphatic emphasis beyond the common norm!

The colon had its list of one, two, three and four,
But as of yet the semi had not found an open door.
Full stops and commas were splattered across the page,
Whilst little semi waited patiently for his chance to be laid!

Could you aid his deliverance and answer his call?
Would you be his partner at the local grammar ball?
Could a dot above a comma be the thing that rocks your boat?
Or, does his old-fashioned usage still stick in your throat?
Some achieve greatness, some have it made,
But what fate awaits the semi-colon who wants to be laid?

© 2016, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.

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What Would I See?


If death was to paint its picture what colour would it be?

Set in non-reflective black, or would your face I see?

Would it shine brightly etched in marble,

Or hide in the shadows like a thief?

Where is the honour in denial?

Where is the virtue in grief?

I hope your face holds a smile

And devoid of tears at your side

When we meet and share a handshake

As unlike life never once have you lied!

© 2016, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.

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A Damocles Tear

The sun disappeared in a distance sky

As a woman walked home with a tear in her eye.

A laugh shared at work, but there’s no one at home

Few understand what it’s like to be on your own.

Home to thoughts of weakness and fear.

The only consolation lies within that tear.

Regrets and confusion with things that have past.

What should have been forever failed to last.

Loneliness lives in a troubled mind

Nowhere to hide, no safety to find.

Alone at night without a helping hand.

Life is suspended by the merest strand

The room’s in darkness, the blinds pulled down.

Her screams are in silence, not making a sound!

© 2016, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.

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Do You Know?

I hear you!

Your voice is silent, but it invades the air.

You deny hope to the living,

Leaving bodies to rot in despair.

I sense you!

I feel, I smell you. I taste,

Your lavish scent of greed

As you condemned all to waste.

You live!

Born without taking breath,

Without love, without thought

Of a life beyond death!

You died!

You existed, but why?

No heartbeat, no pulse,

You only wished to die!

Did you have colour?

Did you have grace?

Did you please others?

Did you leave a trace?

As I asked the questions,

Then to all, I say no!

If you knew this person,

Then you too would know!

© 2016, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.

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If You Have Feelings Then Mad You Definitely Ain’t!


If last week you carpeted the ceiling and today you’re painting the floor
Then remember the first rule of decorating; always work towards the door.
I once knew a man who never knew this, and he worked in the opposite way.
He went mad and was locked in an asylum and is still locked in today!
He was found wearing short trousers, gloves on his ears in case of rain.
He told the truth of his predilections and was sectioned as being insane.

If you think you’re insane but don’t know it here’s a test you can try when alone:
Do a crossword when laying in bed then eat the newspaper when sitting on the throne.
If twelve across gets stuck in your gullet and fourteen down is too hard to do,
Then ask a passing policeman if there’s anything he can do for you.
When he hits you on his head with his truncheon and you scream, yell and faint
Then I must tell you that if you have feelings then mad you definitely ain’t!

© 2016, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.

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So What!

To enjoy that which convention dictates is wrong is not to demonstrate that society is wrong, it is simply to enjoy that which society would like to enjoy if only it knew how!
Danny Kemp 2016

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