Devil Child

A shadow of a fox, sly though he

contaminated by his smug triviality

devious to the chore and willful

to the soul he be

Merciless killing, slaughter of the lamb

abundantly clear yet hidden beneath

decieving through his unimbiguousness

hell to you or thee

The mind of Oxford where the rich boy doth play,

true to nature inconceivable sway

inequality for the helpless

a soothsayer way

Oh foolish nation opened the mind

to the cruelest mean of potent unkind

hell be damned a place to be

Sordid, wicked, irrationality

kindness, a revolutionary way 

the struggle onwards will see

I’m not the same, or am I ?

Life's like a dungeon as far as I recall from a very young age to the moment we are tall, trapped by the rules and wants and despised as a fool.

The medicine was a spanking in the very first week, only five years old some warmth I would seek,  it taught me not to cry for mum, to be silent and meek.

Alone in my childhood life I craved to be liked, do anything for friends even steal a bike, rub mud on the walls for someone called Mike but never really had friends 

Never knew what it was like.

Secondary years came along I would often feel sick every day was hell to get a lot of stick bullied for being quiet and often afraid, the cane and the children felt the bloody same. 

I remembered junior school with a fondness now, I learnt quite well though I did not know how.

secondary school interestingly fun for a lark, two years of hell from a boy called mark, at 13 years old after a fight it lit a fuse so to create a spark I would often bunk off and go to the park.

If your the kind of person that doesn't fit in, believe in me when I say it's not a sin

a burden you'll feel forever and a day

At least you'll have independent thoughts and be happy that way.

I'll not follow a crowd, not be one of the pack, I'll take a lot of hardship but eventually fight back, I'm caught in the web of deception, not afraid of hard work but then there's not a day goes by where responsibility will I shirk.

One hope that I wish to leave behind, is that I love my children, was considerate and kind, if you cannot be good then at least not be blind. 

The Tennessee Waltz

The guitar in her cupboard, a song in her head tells of a time and now it is dead

Shut away sadly fifteen years gone, all with the music of a Nashville song.

Someday She'll return to her Grand Ole Opry home, sing some old Country, a musical throng, for the near future she's all out of salts,

maybe soon Tomi Fujiyama will sing the Tennessee waltz 

Ai Wei Wei

Ai Wei Wei is a creative man

Artistically skilled without the blue

Sensitive, creative, imaginative, true

A mind observing the writing on the wall

A futuristic sight he is warning all

Inanimate objects shown without life

Electric empty, colourful spice

Trees of wood, perhaps a glint

the future of the world maybe a hint

He came here to show the Trees

he saw the passion,noticed the greed.

To show contempt would be out of place, 

he left old England with a smile on his face

JOHN 3:16

Do you need to be advised where you should go?

to free your live and be eternally whole

I've shown you already you must be blind

Observe it below and you might find.

The Sculptor

She was taken in by his deceivable charm

richly dressed ingratiating smarm

contaminated with a sourceful skill

honeyed voice, physique to kill

If the premonition were perceived at word

the corruptible girl should have heard 

Her body found in the woods of old

statuesquely silent, ungraciously cold

no noticeable bruises, no reason or rhyme

perfectly still as a moment in time 

white as a dove, artistically lay

Surrounded by flowers found wild in May 

Ostentatiously thwart, a clinical mind

bloodless statues of feminine devine

seven pretty women beguiled by a killer        perfected form from an artistic thriller

representational of a Renaissance art

ageless beauty that could never depart.

Deaths dealt quickly by a calculating hand

legacy of a father, a controlling man,

mother crudely hurt from a tortured beat 

 a man trodden woman that gave back heat.        

he was only a boy with too much to take

He wept every night the pain in his wake

an art gallery near, his only true friends,

were statues in the museums of Londons West End

A Friend ##

If you are all alone and feeling low,

no one cares or nobody knows,

Just call on me and I'll help if I can,

I've always been a sincere kind of man

 

you're hurt real bad don't know what to do 

  in a bad way and some kind of stew 

She broke your heart and left it in two

So call on me friend, I'll listen to you

feelings of love eat away at your heart 

no way for a man to make a new start

  you cannot end it all with a fight

So call on me we'll help it go right

Suicide thoughts may rush through your mind

There's no way out and no forward sight

look to the possible things you could be

just give it some time well then wait and you'll see

If your tempted to see her then give her a call

meet her just once and play it real cool

If she responds with an answer of 'don't give a heck!'

then leave the cafe and pay the damn cheque

There's plenty of goodness deep on your side

Just let it shine and don't let it hide

Try not to wear your heart on your sleeve

Look for strength that you need in me

I'll promise I'll be there to help you see

A friend is a friend for eternity.

 

Machines that go to war

A world market collapses 

Offices and factories shut their doors

Thousands lose jobs through redundancy clause

Although there's still enough money left for the machines that go to war.

World hunger escalates while adults play games taking gambles on the stock exchange 

Families struggle to survive

it leaves the population sore

But There's still enough money left for the machines that go to war.

Countries suffer,through after war neglect

civil unrest, killing in the streets

each faction greedier than the one before

How would you like this on your back door?

There is still enough money left for the machines that go to war

Greed of world power wanting sustainable oil

murdered Leaders for the excuse of atrocity

countries perished by the score

Grandparents, Fathers, Mothers and babies escaping homes destroyed for more

refused entry to stay alive the poor die poor

Still, there is enough money left for the machines that go to war.

England in an economical downturn , borrowing through the roof

Blame the jobless and the poor  

Cut the the funding for the NHS and benefits of the disabled In the name of austerity to stop the financial draw.

Spend billions of the countries wealth renewing the Trident missile and what for ?,

Is there a need to spend more money on the machines that go to war.

Wealth

Is happiness an illusion brought on by drugs and alcohol?

Is freedom an illusion only known by the richest people in this world?

Are we all controlled by laws,police and taxes?

We need money to live, we need money for food, we need money for a house

In short. We need money. 

We are controlled by the amount of time we have. Forty to sixty hours in a working week wherever that may be; makes sure of that and the residue of our hard work is money.

Yes money, we can buy all the things we want and have all the freedom we need with money, first we have to pay tax, pay the Mortgage, electric, gas, water, phone and for the menial piece of leisure we have, Satellite television. 

For sure the government know how to control 90% of the nation with just these few things, most people are too exhausted to notice or care what the supposed people in charge are up to.

Corruption holds no bounds when you have the power but of course it goes unnoticed by the population.

It's easy to sit in your armchairs and watch the news. Blame the poor for spending your hard earned taxes, blame immigrants for wanting to stay alive and have the same freedom and money that most people have not really got. 

Millions of us believe in our own so called power and wealth, in truth most people's worlds can crumble overnight leaving them in extreme and catastrophic debt. they (the government )seem so smug cutting the benefits of disabled people all in the name of austerity, yet they spend billions of pounds setting the system up to save the money they are spending. 

So to bring us back are we really happy?

 Real happiness is being with the people we love, lovers, wives, husbands, children and grandchildren.

So we could be.

Are we free?

We are free in our minds, we are free in our thoughts, we are free to make change if we have the courage and strength to do so in our own private worlds. I have met many people in my  unimportant life from all genders, races and so called classes, only the very richest (which is less than 1%)  have happiness and freedom the rest of us live under an illusion built up by how wealthy they have become by how much debt they can afford.

Rich people commit suicide and destroy their lives too, why is that? 

The proof that money cannot bring happiness but the illusion of it can is the justification by which the right wing gains power.  

The people I've met, (I can include myself in this at one or two times in my life) that seem truly happy are those people that have nothing and have accepted it, they only have the clothes they are standing in and accept people for whoever or whatever they are. They have nothing but a loving family and no one person could take that away of course those with a nice car, nice house and designer clothes would judge those people as peasants completely forgetting that it is only by the grace of God that they have a decent job and enough debt to wear designer clothes in the first place. There are those people that are clever, they went to university, became professionals and live a very simple life's  saving for whatever they would like to have, however you will find that even those people have a mortgage up to the hilt and a car loan sometimes.

We have happiness and freedom in our faith whatever that faith may be a spiritual being that forgives us for our sins, most normal sins are of course forgiven by a loving God like Jesus or whatever God that you may believe in. Although most normal sins are brought about by frustration from being in debt or trying to stay sane by not falling apart as a person or going to pieces. God forgives. 

If there is anything I'm trying to say here it is- whatever goes around comes around so be good, kind and care for people if you ever want to get close to being free and happy. Only one man that ever lived knew the meaning of real happiness and freedom and his name was Jesus Christ.

He was condemned and executed for bringing the good news and outing the truth.

If there is a good politician it is one that has not let wealth corrupt him. 

Has not agreed to passing laws that knowingly let others suffer.

Has not been selfish when in a position of power to pass such things as austerity.

I believe that as a nation we have to invest to boost the economy not cut, even the poorest people spend money, business turns a full cycle when there is spending, creates jobs and give wages that creates more money.

Eye of the needle

People that suffer through no fault of their own, disabled through illness or some tragedy struck.

People not wealthy, refuse to be slaves to rich men or snobs, gentlemen or knaves

People that suffered in the countries we destroyed, their wish is to not die so they climb under a plane and pray to survive.

People judged by the propagandist news

Evil hearts through a nation that once fought fascist blues. 

I cannot bear the way people are cold, heartless and selfish for one ounce of gold

Greediness is ugliness cannot have what's mine, that's why you sit back to watch children die.

If you have a heart feel my plea

Judgment is sooner than you know

Just wait and see.

Change needs to come ballot your say

Do your thinking the righteous way

Keep on going, keep it in sight,

 always remember to Fight the good fight.

The Worm

I bit an apple and it bit me back

there was a little worm inside

his name was Jack

"Oih! Watch it" he proclaimed

"You almost bit me in half"

"I don't think it's funny"

"there's no need to laugh"

I did not hear it's mouth from the middle

It seemed to be stuck, in a bit of a pickle

I looked at the apple and saw the worm wriggle

it appeared rather funny so I began to giggle

I opened the bin and I threw it in

I swear I could hear the little thing sing.

Mary

He was the bringer of her light

the only thing in her live that was right, 

when she had given up on her daily fight

a time when she survived each drunken night going home forever alone 

Mary sat still by her silent phone.

She was overjoyed, completely in love

God had given her a good man to love

Planning a wedding did not take long

Married at Fifty Seven to a cherished song

The wedded bliss a joyous throng

happiness like this did not belong

Mary had not known a life such as this

they started the day with a gentle kiss

John took the Jag for its yearly check

It passed without fault and was on its last trek, the brakes failed at fifty the car was a wreck, Johns car was crushed and now he is dead.

They telephoned Mary who was expecting Johns call instead there was a policeman who introduced himself as Paul 

He broke the news that Mary  would not hear 

What she heard cut her deep as she crumbled round into an  emotional sphere

gone was her moment, her love, her world, gone were the dreams of a little girl. 

Mary died the day he was killed.

A walk in the Woods

It was a fleeting moment when I first saw you, confident in life though I thought I knew

Memories made with a fleeting wind 

time retracts the years do rescind 

fortune bursts open a freedom begins

A walk in the woods taught me how

to relax, to be calm when I am at a crossroad with a choice somewhat shallow, enjoy the peace and quiet of the rain drenched meadow 

darkened ghosts trail the way of my will, holding me back to pass my shadow still  

talons tear at my shoulder with the light of the moonlit shrill

An eruption has begun run and hide from the ashes or stay behind to suffer the lashes, burnt from an ambush of moltened rock fire, lay down a life for a wanton desire

forgive my confusion, where from I came? 

It is not  important to the wicked seed It's always the bloody same

for the Devils need to feed on a tattered remain, the Devils need to feed is what keeps them all sane.

The Barn

Playing in the barn having fun with straw

Open the old chest look in the drawer

What an amazing treasure for a seven year old to find, to leave it unlocked was ever so kind.

Found some wool lift it out, look underneath an excitable fright

Incredible, fantastic, shining like new a handle a trigger, some bullets too, open the barrel and take a look in, better than reading or having to sing.

Play cops and robbers put on a mask

Dress as a cowboy run away fast

Better hide it, his secret to find

If mum found out she wouldn't be kind

In the chest for next day's joy bring some friends and next doors little boy.

Sunday morning the sun shining warm

Out to play early with Jimmy and Shaun

Into the barn show them the treasure

Shaun wants a go to take up the measure, "it's rather heavy" Shaun says with an aim, the first little boy did not speak again

A chancing exchange

Never had I witnessed such pure beauty looking across the room at you I saw.

A spiritual awareness of love my heart it doth flutter lightly, a choir of people in a large hall disintegrate into insignificance, 

the wall shrank to become a narrow corridor of you and I breaching the exceptional audible volume of loud chattering and music, we became lovers in an instant, I could feel you breathe touching you as if by magic, 

blissfully unaware of any sound or movement left in our spaced time capsule, feeling faint as you return a smile with eyes of green, a passionate affair directly to me, then suddenly at an abrupt end as a friend asks in a loud tone over the music

"Oih there's plenty of birds here, 

dyou want a pint or what?"

RETURNETH HE

Hello my friend where have you gone?

Put scripture down without a song

Can't tell you where I'll come along

You sing the words to fear alone

Am lifting you up upon the throne

So hey why did you turn your back

A voice in mind a heart attack

You left me here with vicious claws

A wooden cart along a dirt track

The hill steeped in blood like river flows

Towards the Nile with bandaged toes

I climb on high where else I'll go

Your fortune smiles a stone you throw

Death destruction marks your way

Darkness follow on this day

Forgiveness may your will he be

Dispatch the green from Tuscany 

Two thousand years may be he reign

No soul be sent or will he save

 a blinding flash will come again

Spirits home release the slave

Fortune fears the weak or brave

Evil through relativity

Poison through the veins of the weak

Retaliation in the souls of the meek

Laugh as you hurt friends for strength

Cut the throat of those that you seek

To me you always seemed a freak

Never forget to stop and look

See the destruction left in your desire

People dead and your house on fire

Plant that image in your brain

Life will never be the same again

Protective custody until the trial

What you've done is seen as vile

People shouting in the streets

Kill him quick and make it neat

A guilty call heard far and wide

Even from your long lost bride

Your death decided on death row

Pay for what you reap and sow

Not long now to the fateful day

Strap you to the chair and take you away

Once forgotten twice the sin

pay for the history of your kin

Modern poetry in Pilgrims Progress

Whatever path you choose to take 

May it be a righteous wake

For danger lurks each and everyday

be sure to use the careful way

tread the road short and smooth

Downhill the way to the lost souls groove

Into the pit once flames are gray

Death awaits oh come now pray.

listen to the fallen angels say.

"Follow now, along this way"

Loose gowned women call share my bed

chastise men, desecrate their head. 

the old man wants to play cards 

A fiver a game to gamble away

some drugs will take you into the nest 

of a demons den with the Devils crest

Seventy five years of a tainted life

Relationship problems for a cash strapped wife, don't give up yet

be it your choosing

suicide is an eternal losing.

Pain in a body, scrambled mind

eyes so poor, irrepareably blind

How can there be a god 

when you suffer so? 

what people say 

when they just don't know

the beauty of it all is far and long

Keep going my friend 

Over the hills Far away

Suffer to the end and always be strong.

eternity waits with a beautiful song.

Death of a Butterfly

It was a fear that held you so near

so petrified to not be with you 

an aching heart that needed your love so

You were a butterfly trapped whole. between the pages of a pressed book

dying quickly with no glancing look

Soft to the touch a delicate silkiness of your skin, beautiful by chance a pride of your kin, our eyes met a hypnotic trance caught in a whirlwind trapped in a dance.

breathing at last a heart beating fast. energy drained, shattered like glass.

Precious memories to last forever 

of moments passing in the wind

recurring thoughts fleeting through history 

at once became a bitter end

long lost love with no message to say

despise the fool who's  not even a friend.

The Grey man

A grey man in a grey suit crossing London Bridge. 

A grey man in a grey suit a national pride

Umbrella that's black by his left side

A document on the right a secret to hide

wrapped up by a rubber band that's on his right hand

A termination of the poor an army to disband

Taxing the middle class servants to the cause

believing the lies of a co-existence 

Into the river no documents to send

corruption has drowned no laws to amend

A grey man in a grey suit crossing London Bridge hit by a bus now at an end.