These are the days when I feel the most

The time is right for a most

Timeous intervention on me

Anyone called Mari would

Understand I am in an

Unhappiness buzz right now

So don’t tell me to sort it out

Mail me a note that I might explain

How the loss of my mother still

Affects me since she drowned in the sea

And I won’t swim anymore.

The whole colour of life has changed

And no structure has introduced the noose

To the onstage performance.

These shadowless days – I run away

But I can’t escape.

Copyright B E Saunders

A single man isn’t some form of greek

Associate of the new army of life

It is a man who is not the forebear of secrets

But the forthright known assassin of the love-

Hate relationship of the nurse and son

Who does not care for the new way of being like a child

In the arms of a mother with time to shout

For love

But a new one for the one who cares the most

The most is indeed the more and the morer

Of all

For the way in which we all do the same thing

That is open and close the eyes for the world to see

That it is the need for the sun that opens them and the lack

Who shouts for them to close.  It

Is not going to be the final care assessment that makes us all like new

And therefore it is the end of the scene.  It is not going to be the first time

I have said this but it is not the less true for all that

I need to know what it’s the right way to live when without a wife

For it is encroaching upon me to see that it

It the wrong thing to be the right and wrong together.

To be the single and the loved one together is not the right nor is it the wrong

It is in between and therefore not the right but the wrong and so it goes

To show that it is not the one who gets it in the end first but the ones who

Come second and third and fourth place.

So it comes to be that there is a new time for all that

does not give the right to give bum rushes to the needy

It is not a greek one it is a weak, that does this.

No knight but no sleight either.  It does not get any further from the truth

To be the one who gives it all for the rest to get with their own piece of pie.

Copyright 2016 Bruce E Saunders

As she told me of her retirement age

And reclining days before the seat-shore of the tennis

Match she planned to watch one day

At Wimbledon…she wasted no time getting out the rest

Of her tea, for she endeavoured to always eat well

And soon she was done and the

Wimbledon season was over of another year.

Copyright 2016 Bruce E Saunders

Sent to the University of Bath

Mech Eng Department

I suggest that you watch my blog – Roughtrade Gibson.

Hazel Turner is Jewish, am I correct?
And I was assualted and nearly murdered on my way home from a Leftism gig in Bath supporting the PLO.
“I’m a backstabber” she said.
I didn’t know at the time that this is racist slang for a Jew in the UK.
Tony Miles – stand up.
Bruce Saunders

The criminally insane and I

Have never been called Pablo Picasso

“You act like insanity is catching”

I do not fight to preserve my sanity

But to defeat the psychiatrist

To stay out of hospital

I have a distinguishing mark

Do you – should I ever meat you in a dark alley?

We are violent which is why you carry a gun

These are slender things, strength and control versus


Copyright B E Saunders 2016

Journalists and drug dealers and set-ups by the cops.

And Blue Giro’s.

Drugs raids posed as Mental Health Assessments.

Notes of complaint about ketamine dealers to the press and police.  The Chronic.

What a mess.

Notebooks that disappear with details of complaints and collar numbers and times of calls and dates.  And solicior’s telephone numbers.

Spare keys going missing.

Bionics papers to be published.  They have all sorts of applications

Like for drugs mules to have a way to attach a plastic sac in their gizzard for long periods of time using attachment devices in the surafec of the siilicone to attach to the soft moist surface of the throat or gullet  or stomach, prefeably painlessly.

Copyright B E Saunders 2016

I have a sister who stepped in at a time when my own had abandoned me.  Her love and support saved me from homelessness as she kept a wary eye upon the Health Workers who insisted on depriving me of my independence.

It is the truth that they the health workers manipulated the system on my behalf so I find myself in a strange position of being half resentful and half grateful.  Without their diagnosis and form filling I am confident I would have been homeless by now, for several years.  Instead I am housed with enough state support that I have time to do what I want to do which is write to my heart’s content.  But I know in my heart of hearts in tougher societies I would be foundering.

I am spoilt by the British state as others struggle with the get ahead notion and participate in the sprint for the line – I am not even in the race, on the track, at the meet.  I’m at home chillin’.  I’m just sorry I have no cat.

No cat to make fat no cat to be me in an altered form to transgress and go solo like an evil wan…but things cannot be perfect.

No cat to sly my by

To sleep with me at night

To hold me to her tang and

Know it is I that feeds her

I know I shall be that cat

When the time comes to find someone

Who wants a stray without measure

For their art of self sacrifice

It is no’ the one who is the first

Who wins it is the one who comes second

And last who makes it to the end

Of the game without pause for

Water or oil to slide

Down the cause of the port of even steady motion

For it is without the need for all this

That makes for the best time and life

The need is too much for the rest to follow

But I can.  I can.

Copyright B E Saunders 2016