Watch me fly - Callum Lee Doherty

It’s quite simple from here,
Absentee, candidly,
Scream in rhythm; scream in glee,
Free from prisms bound of me.

This nigh wisdom, my Dear,
Can you see? Shall we breathe?
Gleaming victims; thieving leaves,
Dreams of visions, hounding me.

Watch me fly, watch me fly.
Oh, brother, watch me fly.


Watch that hand forever slow,
Weightless Kings forever float.
Nameless crystals, taint my wings,
but through my wrists, they’ll never know.

I demand to see the scriptures;
Reprimand me as I go,
Enslave the guards who pray forgiveness
Whilst enlists of xenophobes.

Watch me fly, watch me fly.
Oh, lover, watch me fly.


I’ve gone without your jurisdiction,
Fled from timeous control.
I’ve reached the plain through which my fiction
Lifts the stain we call our Home.

I feel the breath within my fingers,
See the blessed expanse below;
Within my depths, I’ll re-consider
But on my terms, all alone.

Watch me fly, watch me fly.
Oh, mother, watch me fly.
Do not sorrow; in my judgement,
I’m resolved, and so I die.

Callum Lee Doherty

Walking My Shoes - Lyndon Queripel

I’ve walked in your wake
I’ve seen the life you live
I’ve had all I can take
Of what it’s got to give
But killing time is such a crime
Be a rebel without a pause
Before the young get strong enough
To change the laws

I’ve walked the crooked mile
Stopping here and there
Just to enjoy the view
And a breath of fresh air
For the smog and smoke starts to choke
And will crown a dead diesel town
When the waste spreads to the waterbeds
All the fish will drown

I’ve walked the line on parade
To advance or retreat
Now I’m stepping out of the shade
To the sunny side of the street
The traffic crawls between the walls
Don’t dare to stop and stare
At dividing lines and broken signs
That only lead nowhere

I’ve walked increasing circles
Turning inside and turning out
Now I've seen the light that shines
Without your shadow of doubt
Don’t be found losing ground
And passed by everyone
Feeling lonely you’re only walking
But you’ve yet to run.

Lyndon Queripel

For x - Sarah Alexander

When did I become a shade?
A figment of your imagination passing by
So engrossed in your conflicting self
That you did not see my smile

When did you dreams fragment into splinters in your soul
And the light dim inside your mind ?
When did the darkness become all encompassing
So much so that your heart went blind

You did not see me clearly
Your perception was your all
And that to you was your reality
To my detriment and yours

Sarah Alexander

Stories - Trudie Shannon

The lads on the ferry are raucous, loud
Laughing, talking, shouting
Strings of ‘friendly’ obscenities about
Cars, women, drink
Hang-overs, conquests and pile-ups
Wearing the clothes they slept in
The same that saw them all spruced up
Smelling of aftershave and exuding pheromones
Out on the pull last night.
They dominate the space
Rude, coarse and harmless
Bouncing stories between themselves
Each one racing to out-do the others.
Other passengers, sigh and look heavenward
Saying nothing but oozing disapproval
Features contorted into frowns until …
One lad says
I can’t wait to get home, sleep in my own bed,
Mum’s cooking tea
There’s a pause and a universal sigh of assent.
The other passengers turn to each other
And share a covert smile.

Trudie Shannon

There, Be The Jam - Tony Bradley

Being a Janner, that’s from Plymouth
I was well brought up, proper job
but I realised them Cornish was diffrent
a few penniees short, of a bob.

They’s not so bright, over the Tamar
their afternoon tea, got a simler scone
but changing the order they’m decorates it
they shoud’ve left well alone.

Is sacred West Country Tradition, innit
since ancient histree of cream teas began
but them Cornish buggers put the cream on top
is always bin bleddy cream, then jam.

Tony Bradley