Friday, 26 July 2013
The world at ease
A snake bit me
Wednesday, 3 July 2013
Freedom
Tuesday, 2 July 2013
Simon
Monday, 17 June 2013
The door of opportunity
Monday, 10 June 2013
Webb of Ivy
Wednesday, 15 May 2013
The Third World Country Called England
an open trade with European policy
Friends with many countries; could we
learn from the past and right wing history
fascism comes at a deathly cost
a third world country is where we will be
Sunday, 17 March 2013
Looking beneath the gilded edge
Merely dictatory fascist media, spreading news of a white hope
Telling stories of another new pope, asking how are we gonna cope
Blaming the blacks, indians,polish, Jews for all of our bad news
The country in poor equity, unemployed are a drain on society
Disabilities are inabilities, say those with high deity
Saddened by the press allowed to confuse the mess
Governments are the culprits, selling off councils stock of houses
Treating the lower class with contempt, like diseased mouses
Shutting down industry, shipbuilders, mines, aerospace and cars
Where's all the money gone, in a rocket to mars ?
Upperclass trash that's what they are,
A damn fool nation that believe all they read, living on credit in order to feed
Concerned in a country living a fate, not asking questions, never irate
Keep blaming the meek but its the politicians they must seek
Corruption in every chamber, parliaments the danger
Making money the ultimate power, thieving within the law
After all what's all that power for
Tramping us down in another corrupt game
Believe what you believe, now that's the real shame.
Friday, 15 March 2013
Seasoned
woods do sound weary with damp at their feet, creaking and groaning till may
The wild wind doth blow with a hail to and fro while the sun sets away in a glow
Thunder and lightening attacking and frightening the branches fall off in a sway
Hedgehogs bed down into a slumber with a collection of grubs by their side
All kinds of animals tucked in for the winter, away in the forests they hide
Winter comes along to close another year, tis sad for all when it ends
though we melt away all the bad times with a drink in a glass and a friend
Lame
Gold Cup, Cheltenham, Aintree races of splendour
Wednesday, 13 March 2013
A heart that cares
no I cannot forgive sin
I can't do anything
about the state we are in
Neither can I feed the poor
Or stop the bloodshed from the war
I cannot answer all the prayers
The mess that you find yourself in when no one cares
Least of all, I cannot heal the sick
or stop you drowning very quick
I only have a heart that cares
eyes to see your heartfelt thoughts
Ears to listen and judge you not
a prayer to mention you to god
to do all the things that I cannot.
Fight People
those torn apart by war
Worn down by the urge to survive
Struggling to keep out
the vicious wolves
Who keep knocking at the door
Saddened by the righteous
Right yet always wrong
It's not the strong that need your prayer
the weak cannot carry on
Had enough of living
Ready to give up on life
Nothing appears to go right for them
Not daughters, sons or wives.
The harder people work
the less they can afford
government keep on rising tax
blaming them for being poor
a drain on society
for not being dealt a hand
If not only the sorrow
Had lots of wealth
We all could feed the poor
If everyone reversed the trend
and give them what the bloody hell for!!
Monday, 11 March 2013
Paying now
Steal from the poor, give to the rich
Stop your whining you voted for them
Thought you'd be better off!!
Imagined yourself a Toff
Well your working class
There is no middle
Just those with money and those without
No point moaning, not even shout
Get it right next time, vote the right out
Friday, 8 March 2013
Spit Rain Spit
Misery is here again
I prayed a prayer for it to go away
To come back another day
But it just won't quit
Fed up of being wet
I'm really mad at it
spit, rain, spit
A warm day of sunshine would be nice
a warm day of sunshine would be nice
Such a lovely thought
I had to say it twice
But it keeps on raining
It just won't quit
Just like my life
Spit, rain, spit
A year and a day
The rain has come each day
it's never gonna stop
I never feel on top
Plants have stopped growing
No sunshine
It,s not worth sowing
Lets be honest
We're in the #¥€$
Don't know what to do to get out of it
The only thing we see is
Spit, rain and spit
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
Conviction
that brought you howling with delight
The ghostly shadow of the moon
It lift you out the ground too soon
The webs of spiders that trapped the flies,
the grave diggers and the spies
I knew that things were wrong tonight
the night I saw a bat in flight
Compare the sheep with the wolf
The difference between us & the mighty dwarf
The ukulele and his kin
Piglet throat cut for his skin
A man trapped inside his mind
Servants quarters a treasured kind
The night I witnessed lovers blind
Take away my feverish danger
Freeze my heart within its chamber
Remove my spleen I've never seen
Write on my grave 'always too keen'
Yet leave behind me some of your will
Put it on the windowsill
Place it under the oak tree there
To grow and wither another year.
In the future when long once said
The Lord will raise us from the dead
Heavens descend upon our earth
From north to south around the girth
Evil sent away so far
Banished to a lake that melts as tar
Peace will reign on this land so green
Families together forever seen
Sunday, 24 February 2013
The little Boy
Somewhere in Somerset where wild yellow and white flowers blossom in the tall grass, that is growing shoulder height to an eight year old boy with short brown hair running through the meadow by the side of his lifetime friend, a golden retriever with the most splendid shiny fur, both of them running at a pace as if in a long and arduous race.
Stone lay everywhere in that meadow, good purpose stone for building walls surrounding the lovely picturesque farms of nearby hills, on they ran with the wind whispering around the boys ears, the long grass dampening all sounds of sheep baaing in the next meadow and the boys proud and beautiful mother calling him for tea, today was shepherds pie with a gorgeous onion gravy and creamy mashed potato with peas, ready and waiting on the strong pine country table within an artistic built Cotswold stone cottage.
The cottage Strongly raised with the rocks that lay scattered about the wonderfully pictured meadow, the rocks this well behaved loving boy had not noticed underfoot when he tripped and fell, rocks the handsome boy had hit his head on, rocks that caused him to lay still, blood pouring from the deep cut on his forehead, the golden retriever continued on running at first, unaware the boy had fallen, then in an instant as if feeling the presence of the boy no more, he span around, running to where the boy lay, he began licking the boy on his sweet sleeping, yet silent face.
The boy did not move, the dog began for home, he ran and ran until he reached where the boys mother waited, the golden retriever barked and yelped continuously until the boys mother had realised something was wrong, the mother ran after the loving dog, anxiously concerned for her son, when she arrived at where he lay, the desperately forlorn mother waited with her little boy, she called the emergency services, they were on the way. On arrival in no time at all, airlifting the boy to a place where all help could be given if possible. If possible are the only words I now have.
From that moment, everyday the meadow lay quiet with a slight breeze blowing across the long grass with beautiful yellow and white flowers, they were holding a secret unknown to anyone except the brave golden retriever that frequented the meadow running around feeling the joy of living, everyday he play where the little boy lay, the meadow whispering 'please come another day'.
Tuesday, 12 February 2013
Eyes Fade
Changing life, looking back again
My glasses get stronger, my eyes get weaker
Foggier with each passing day
A little less courageous, a little more afraid
An unperfected book in a timeless way
Turning each day as if turning a page
My eyes fade with my life's age
Driving home in the hail and snow
It's misty too, then I groan!
'I can't see a thing, my wipers broke' ?
No it's just the eyes of a middle age bloke
Spectacles on now, it's not so bad
I can see clearly, yet now I'm sad
My eyes, like my life with a strong teenage phase
Is passing by and I'm at that age
My eyes are fading with my life's faze
When I'm really old and have lost my teeth
I'll look rather peculiar but feel like a thief
Living life on borrowed time
Probably won't have a pound, nickel or dime
You'll come home to find me in the dark
Take my hand to lead me through the park
No need for glasses when I'm blind
The television off, radio loud and unkind
I'll want it's pass, when I'm at them days
My eyes will be weak and my life will fade
Friday, 25 January 2013
Complicated
Responsibility of earning puts our relationship in last
to show emotion openly is frowned upon by friends
With my mobile phone to you, a message I will send
my love for you is special, not for the world to see
A little kiss as you pass by, is more than enough for me
When we are together at the end of the day
We show our feelings openly, complete and un afraid
I will always love you deeply, whatever, come what may
That's why I stand alongside you "I Do" are the words I say.
Thursday, 10 January 2013
Memories
We would struggle up, right to the top
Higher and higher, scraping our knees
Until We reached the uppermost part
resting a branch under our thigh
Seeing across the land so high,
the broccoli woods reaching for the sky
The houses in the streets looked so small
How grand we felt, so proud, so tall
a happy feeling, joyously tranquil
Like Spurs beating Arsenal Five to nil
We'd cherish those days to return once more
the best in life from the top drawer
Warmer summers, sparkly springs
wonderful presents that Santa would bring
Mum and Dad with a precious kiss
Among the greatest memories
once cherished that I now miss
Just Living
Existing on this land of more and plenty
Refusing to fall or follow ways
of those with ill and gentry
Days pass without notice, people do too
Traffic flowing going who knows where
Concentrating on a meaningless cause
Staring from many windows at not much at all
A Sparrow of hope flies out of a tree
Little wings with a high pitched shrill
Raising my heart for a tiny glimmer
Then splats on the hair of a woeful sinner.
Sinking so low back to the beginning
It's not my life, I'm just living
What a commotion
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Deep as an arrow, wounded by thy words of bitter resentment, cut in throes of ecstasy, same toxicity, hurt on the right, tr...