Brotherly Love

Ken Flood lived a quiet life with his wife and two daughters in Plymouth, working as a lecturer in the University, minding his own business and relatively happy and content. Out of loyalty to his brother he enters a world for which he has no experience. On the run from enemies he does not know, fearful and scared out of his mind. Running, moving, never staying in one place, not knowing to whom to turn for help. Never sure which men or women are on his side or against him. Not even sure of which side his brother is on. Wondering whether his brother his using him for purposes he has no control over. In the end, doubting his brother's motives.It is a story of fear, of somebody out of their depth in a world made strange, of chance encounters with people willing to help, of finding hidden depths behind a placid exterior and of the extent which loyalty to ones family can led on down paths best left unexplored.

Read it by downloading to your iPad, Kimble or computer etc. from:

 www.smashwords.com 

for the bargain price of $1.99.

The dream

Running down a corridor

Green walls, varnished doors

I need to run and run

Boots sounding the beat

On wooden floor

To reach the end, any end

I dash blindly forward

Into the misty distance.

Doors open as I pass

Ghostly heads appear calling

“ Are you ready?”

What do they mean?

Mist thickens, I see nothing

It clears and I halt breathless.

Tall doors arched at the top

Guarded by two cats with hats

They bow and the doors open

Light streams out on green walls.

Into the light I shuffle

Into a room like a court.

A man with a crumpled face 

Wearing a curly wig and specs

Sits high on a bench frowning.

“ Are you ready?” he asks

“ Ready for what?” I reply

“ That is not the answer!”he snarls

“ Take him away!” he orders.

Two cats grab me by my arms

And push me through a varnished door.

I am falling, falling out of control.

There is nothing but rushing air.

I land in a field in the bright sunlight

Girls in floral dresses dancing round a pole

In unison they sing “ Are you ready?”

There is a bright light

Flashing in sequences

Closer and closer

I cannot see!

I am sitting in bed

Sweaty and shaking

A pad by my side is covered 

In dots and dashes

Underneath is written

Are you ready?

The exam is today.

The Docks

Water glistens below the bright flower beds

Tall white buildings reflected shapes shimmering

In sepia coloured liquid lapping redundant quays

Rope fenders still clinging to the concrete walls

Iron rails sunk into the tarmac beside the quay edge

Unnoticed now by all but a handful of men.

Voices echo through the abandonned cranes

Laughing, shouting, crying, arguing

As children play in the shadows of their homes

Unmindful of the history close by.

Once, years before in this very place

Deeper voices shouted, swore, laughed and moaned

Broad backs and strong arms pushed and heaved

Cranes banged, whined, moved and whirled

Cargo loading for distant exotic unkown places

Names on the case and the checkers’ sheets

Bales, boxes, bundles, cases and casks

Discharged for the market down the road.

Dynamic energy spilt for the demands of trade.

Now faded into folk lore, remembered by few.

Flats gardens and living people in their place.

In the sky above, a lone seagull cries 

Reminded of the sounds of the docks and

Shades of long lost ships tied to bollards and

The ghostly wail of a ships whistle in the mist 

Never to return.

An Ordinary Life

My novel An Ordinary Life has now been posted as an ebook on Kindle. It can be downloaded for $2.99 from Amazon with apps for iPad and other platforms.

The story explores the manner in which most people regard themselves as honest and law abiding although there are times and circumstances when they ignore the rules of behaviour or of some moral code. These people justify their actions by ignoring their conscience or making excuses for their behaviour. In extreme cases they give the impression that morality is not an issue in their case.The novel follows the life of Tom Houseman. From his early childhood on the edge of a hard council estate to eminent Professor with a worldwide reputation and great wealth. Tom Houseman has a boyhood friend called Derek from the council estate and, though their paths diverge after junior school, he stays loyal to his friend. During his life, he accepts opportunities presented by his friends and his brother. These enhance both his standing in society and his wealth. All the time, he ignores and denies the moral and legal implications of taking advantage of these offers.As time passes, he has to face the implications of his choices. Will he finally have to face these hard decisions or will he sail serenely on living, to him, this ordinary life?

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Galway Bay

We sing

Watch the sun go down on Galway Bay

But the rain poured down

The clouds raced across the sky

Waves beat on the shore.

A Rainbow arches over the water

We race to find the end

But the rain poured down. 

Never reached the end of the rainbow

Or found the crock of gold

And the rain poured down

Huddled in the car

Watching the fishing boats

Red Blue Green

Appear out of the grey mist

Fighting the white foam

To return to harbour

And the rain poured down.

We never saw the sun

Go down on Galway Bay.

The Sailor’s Mistress

When the cargo is loaded and all falls quiet

The sea itself is calling, 

Beckoning the sailor out there beyond the dock. 

His mistress is waiting 

Where the river meets the sea. 

He has no real knowledge of what her reaction will be

When he sails out to meet her. 

She may greet him in a calm, balmy mood,

Like a gentle lover entwining him in her arms, 

Leaving him refreshed and happy when they part. 

It might be that she is angry 

And will meet him with unmatched violence 

A violence which beats upon the senses 

And leaves the lovers drained and exhausted, 

Ready to rush apart , 

Ready to find a place of peace and quiet 

Not the feeling of complete satisfaction. 

Like all lovers, the sea and the sailor

Will never quite know what moods will greet them when they meet

Or how the mood can change very quickly.  

This is the excitement of the sea.  

Every time a ship leaves port,

The sailor approaches that love 

With a mixture of exhilaration and apprehension. 

Will they together make beautiful love under a clear blue sky 

Or will they fight? 

It is not for the sailor to subdue the sea 

But to live with her moods 

In the hope that he can survive.

The sea is calling, always calling 

As a lover calls.

A Ceremony Of Innocence

NOW AVAILABLE 0N KINDLE 
AS A 
DOWNLOADABLE EBOOK!!!


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A Ceremony Of Innocence


\by

Edmund Gubbins

Set against the political and industrial strife of the 1980's, this is a story  follows the lives of one family during one summer in 1981. 

Joan Brookes, the mother, is excited because her two sons will be back home together for the holidays, something that has not happened for what seems to her an age. All she wants for the holiday is her house filled with laughter, conversation and joy. In anticipation of the holiday she is happy.

Her husband Charlie is a shop steward at the Brents shipyard and at the same time as her boys are arriving home, there are redundancies announced at the shipyard. The workers led by Charlie vote to strike at the same time as his sons arrive home on holiday.

Jim, her youngest son is to graduate that summer from university with a first class honours degree making her feel proud and happy.  Left wing and loyal to his friends, Jim wants only to help his father in what he sees as the struggle for justice. Jim thinks of his brother as left wing and shy from the little he remembers of him when they were together at school ten years before. From this stand point Jim thinks his brother will help with the strike.

Mark, her oldest son, wants a quiet life while on leave from his travels as an officer in the merchant navy. He is skeptical about the strike and its effects on the community although he supports his father. Mark feels that because time is short while he is at home, he has to grab any opportunity for gain or happiness that comes his way. He is not prepared to subordinate his pleasure for the sake of the family over something that he sees as none of his business.

Against the background of the strike, Jim painfully finds out what his brother is like and is annoyed that Mark has enough friends to help Jim out of a brush with the law when the rest of the family were helpless.

What will be the climax, reconciliation or a final fractured relationship.

The book is available through Amazon in paperback.
It is also available on Kindle, iPad, Sony Reader etc.

The Golden Age?

There used to be pubs on Market Square

Named after heroes

The Lord Nelson, King George or Prince William,

Or mythical beings 

The Griffin, Green Man or Unicorn.

With a snug, a lounge and a bar.

Where smoke curled and swirled, round dark oak beams,

Like the smog in Bleak House.

Men in dull grey jackets and  shiny ties,

Lounged on wooden benches, 

By tables scarred with stubbed out fags

Topped out with over flowing ashtrays.

Drinking mild, bitter or boilermakers,

The consistency of the silt laden stream 

Which flowed at the bottom of the yard.

The drink went down to the thud of darts

Or the clack of dominoes on a board.

Ladies sit with their men in the lounge

Drinking port and lemon the colour of blood.

Or in the snug

Gossiping about the pregnant teenager from down the road,

Or Mrs. Smith and her brood and her men.

The barmaid wobbled her large breasts

As she pulls the pints for indifferent drinkers,

Thinking of rich men and sun kissed beaches.

A dyed blond night lady pulls up her skirt

Revieling nylon clad legs and smiling,

Hoping that some man would talk and take her home.

The other women turn up their noses, shake their heads,

Making plain that she was an outcast.

Now the pubs have gone.

Turned into banks and shops.

New theme pubs have been designed,

All chrome and leather,

With flashing screens and loud music,

Where drinkers guard their bottles of larger 

Which come from God knows where.

The girls prance around, Salome without the veils,

Attracting the boys in only their shirt sleeves,

Even when the ice is on the ground and breath freezes on the nose.

Once at ten thirty, people would stagger home,

Now they spill out onto the square,

Falling, vomiting, shouting, laughing, growling and fighting

Before staggering towards the night club

Where Mrs. Bennet's dancing school once stood, 

Teaching the young to twirl and prance 

To the beat of a dance band.

Now lights flash, mist spreads from hidden blowers

Bodies gyrate and grind.

Times change.

I’m All Right

I phone 

“ How are you?”

“ I’m all right, 

How's your family?”

There you go 

Onto someone else.

Even though

Pain wracks your body

“ I’m all right 

How are you?”

You never complained, 

Even near the end.

Wracked by pain, 

Short of breath

Unable to walk far, 

But still it was

“ How are you?” we ask

“ I’m all right 

How’s the family?”

Now you are gone 

I will miss your

“ I’m all right,  

How are you?”

The Teacher of the Rombuli

My fantasy novel 

The Teacher of The Rombuli 

BOOK 1 of the trilogy Rombuli Saga 

is now published on Kindle.

The Teacher of the Rombuli

by

Eddie Gubbins

Edward Eastland lives in an obscure country of the Parison Empire son of the most powerful man in Alskar Province, Idris Eastland. For over a century, the small nation of the Rombuli has been bowed down under the yoke of the Parison Empire and the Imperial Army,. The Emperor and the Imperial High families are maintained in power by the mysterious group of magicians called the Covenent. 

Soon after Edward meets Kitty the daughter of the Imperial Army Commander, the Emperor plans a visit to this distant Province of his Empire. In Alskar Town Square he confronts a Covenenter using his power but has to back down.

Edward is taken to Nimmar the capital of Rombuli and is forced to confront the dichotomy of his hate for the Empire but his love and friendship for some of the Imperial servants? 

Follow Edward as he learns more of the secrets of the Rombuli, attempts to confront the Covenent as he learns more of his power and searches for the ancient Teacher of the Rombuli, Nelvask, who has not been seen for over one hundred years. 

There are Apps available for this book to be downloaded on iPad and other devise

The Chieftain

Blue flowers, dark stone, on some wind swept moor.

As I look, the wind carries the sound of sadness. 

The stones fade, in their place a grave

Gaping dark in the early morning light.

Lights of torches approach up the hill

Lines of people, men and women, all silent.

Around the grave men in chain mail standing

Sword points in ground, hands clasped on hilts 

Heads bowed low.

Four men carry a body on a stretcher

Leather stretched between two spears.

A long forgotten chieftain, golden circlet on head

Golden cloaked, sword grasped in hands.

They lay the body in the grave to silence

Except the whine of the wind in the gorse.

Dark stones are piled one on another, higher and higher.

When they are finished, a woman steps forward,

Kneels and plants some blue flowers among the stones.

The men in chain mail lift their swords above their heads 

In salute to their departed chief, turn and march away

To some other war.

Blue flowers bloom each year, the dark stones washed clean 

By the falling rain.

The Call

The sea is calling, always calling 

Even when the sailor has long left voyaging behind. 

The sea calls, ever calls,

Over the noise of this sometimes dreadful life. 

To sail away , to leave this life behind,

But to where? 

That is what adds to the thrill. 

Let the voyage be long or short, 

Let the oceans be calm or fierce, 

In the urge to sail away, 

Lies man's eternal quest 

For something new. 

Why oh why does man always strive after the new 

When accepting the present would save a lot of heart ache. 

It has long been a mystery to me but, 

More than in any other profession, 

The sea  offers a greater chance to satisfy this need. 

The sailor never arrives 

Because each new port is a stepping stone to the next 

And on to the next 

Until the nomadic lifestyle grows too much. 

It maybe that the sailor observes other people 

Settling into a pattern of life which brings rewards 

Such things as family and home, 

Anchored to other views of living 

Rather than constantly on the move. 

So the sailor leaves the sea 

And puts down roots.

Or does he? 

The sound of a seagull screaming , 

The wind moaning around the roof of his house  

The sound of waves lapping on the shore 

Will awaken in the hidden recesses of his mind 

The longing to feel the excitement once more 

As the ship goes silent, 

Ready to leave for the sea. 

Running after Maria

In addition to my poetry, lets not forget My Romance Novel : 

Running after Maria 

Published as an ebook for downloading at: www.smashwords.com

This is the story of one man’s descent into depression after tragedy strikes, his anger at other people trying to help and his redemption in the arms of somebody who admired the dedication of other people who try to help. It explores the question of whether a person can really be saved after a devastating loss especially of somebody that person loves deeply? Does not their world and the will to live end?

If you like it tell all your friends about it.

A Cry for a Lost Love

In the cold light of a damp day

I sit in my chair and think of you,

So young, so innocent and full of joy.

I loved you then and love you now

But your love was not true and went away.

The silence from you is breaking my heart

All I have left is some memories but no word.

Are you still out there love of my life?

Do you still think of me ever at all?

Or have I faded from your life 

Like the night into day?

Do you still remember the touch of my hands

Or my kisses so bold on your wonderful lips. 

All I have left is the dream of you now

So warm and so loving 

But I let you depart never to see you again. 

Will you ever again come to see me?

Will I ever again feel the warmth of your body?

Will you ever again tell me you love me? 

It is only a dream but a dream so real

That I will see you again.

Come back my love, I cry

To the walls of my room

But all I have left is the memory

And my dreams.

THE OLD MAN BY THE SEA

Soporific sounds

Slap, swish, slap, swish

Sea on sandy beach.

Elbow on knee, fist under chin

Pen knife and apple on lap

Breeze stirring grey hair

Man sits thinking.

Of life and Liberty?

Of philosophy?

Or daydreaming

Of times gone by.

Memories of missed hopes

Wondering at lost dreams.

Life’s a bugger

When we get old.