Mark Curtis

For you a poem, verse or even riddle,
To play your heart strings like a fiddle.
Increase the rate of rhythmic beats,
Will be the greatest of all feats.
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I write about things, i find funny,
an overdraft and still no money,

On old man on his mobile phone,
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A thing that’s always puzzled me,
how strict a teacher would you be?
I think i have a good idea,
read on below, would i be near?
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My memories of you, are never sad,
I'd like to share some with you Dad.

You never ceased to make me laugh,
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A follower of sport i claim to be,
apart from this, it’s so dreary.

Charging, screening illegal blocking,
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My dearest darling Olive Oil, I hope this don't make your blood boil.
Spare me some you time, that I can spend, to prove I am aa actual friend?
I want to win back all your trust, don't make me wait until I rust.
I know I need just one more chance; this time won't be a merry dance.
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I like to lose myself in your eyes,
I like the ones that shine not cries.
I like it when you hold my hand,
I like it when you say “that’s grand”.
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Work is over for the day,
the Boxing Club I make my way.
Smell of sweat in lights so dim,
welcome to my home sweet gym.
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Phone calls you no longer return,
your mind made up i can not turn.
Email and texts assume rejected,
i suffer much, you’re unaffected.
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Time measured in ten ways,
Measure one, is in full days
Measure two, a moment’s gaze
Measure three, a passing phase,
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The consequence of a TV nation,
We lost the art of conversation.

Sit there glued TV all rooms,
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Who was it that prescribed the notion,
Not what you sea but just an ocean.

By “deep blue” known a common name,
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Stare out at a the lonely tree,
My mind it forms a memory.
Gentle breeze moves left then right,
Reminds me of a once fought plight.
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At the venue arrive in time,
to hit someone and not a crime.
Cold corridor you walk at pace,
the time to switch to poker face.
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Never change, be who you are, if this believe you won't go far.
We all must flex to some degree, or ones you love will set you free.
Set you free, if will not budge, your conscience you now have to judge.
A Chamelelon you must now appear, change to suit to hold all dear.
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God, forgive me for my sins,
can’t stop thinking of her pins.

long and smooth, two pronged attack,
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Confidence can come from many sources,
something you do, your own resources.
A single word, can but inspire,
an inner glow, that raging fire.
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This poem is a bout a friend's mother who beat breast cancer and separation:

Take no offence, don’t call me dumb,
this poem I write, is about your mum.
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Where we’re born we have no say,
Conveyor starts you’re on the way.

Infancy years the belts slow pace,
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This girl is hard to satisfy,
just take a look and you’ll see why?
What make of man, wins this queen of Hearts?
It’s simple, a man of seven parts.
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