Grand old Oak

The story is strange to a town in the mist

I felt a thud, my head I did kiss

Stepping slowly 123,  

bumping into a massive tree, 

I hardly had time to feel or see

While laying beneath, the grand old Oak

Or so I thought until it spoke

“What were you doing?” It enquired cheaply

’I was rushing home quickly, til I hit a tree’

“I’m not a tree, I’m rather big you see, you bumping like that took the wind out of me”

I made excuses then quickly left, 

I could not help feeling so sad and Bereft

Turning around to say goodbye to that bloke

All I could see was a grand old Oak.

You have the right to fight

I’ll give you a million, what will you do? Buy tons  of make up and the most expensive shoes, blow it on marijuana , Caviar at a steal, champagne on ice, hallucinating pills, I’ll give you twenty, you’d be dead in a month, with all the alcohol, expensive food for lunch, pay high taxes to even whats due, there’s a few in government that will say “that’ll do”, the majority have struggled on a measly wage, isn’t it time to turn the page?, forget the debt, position in the world, there’s people dying while you stuff yourselves. Homelessness, rotten teeth, the uks in trouble, you’ll never smell the stench, while in your bubble, your whole world could crumble if you lose your health, let’s hope you can afford it, keep storing your wealth, the surplus population will be dealt with by the score, disease by the masses, a glorious war, never be forlorn, just put up a fight, as a free voter you have every right, continue to be brave, Change what’s bad to good, then punch the air and enjoy some freedom…….just like you should! 

Imagine that!!

A Lark or a laugh, a web of deceit, 

creature creep while you lay asleep 

It lurks under the bed, it’s in your head

be very careful, you could wind up dead,

Sky be rain, shadows fall

heads will roll if you stand too tall. 

Slice or slither, cut like butter 

wings flap away with a little flutter

Telling lies, so the story flies

a bitter widow rarely cries

Guns of sponge, bullets of plastic

bounce then blind as if shooting elastic

Dreams of reality, they could be true

Black and white, vicious dogs chew

Eat your heart, bite your leg

grind your bones, break your neck.

Is it true?, wildly free, 

fantasyland or in your dreams?

Is it real, is it fake?

is there a sword in the lake?.

A journeys end

Incarcerated within a moveable cell, years of pain and debauchered hell, prodded endlessly tortured with words, encouragement to work to purchase gruel, feeding fat in a burger grill, drugs galore, endless punishment until you can bare no more, age cripples, throbbing ripples, aching entity, remembering loss, isn’t it a pity, moving to the country from a cruel city, time has a limit, a sell by date, death of a prison, the end of hate, loosened becomes from a solid mass, fly to freedom whatever the class, be free for a thousand years or score, until your burden is not felt anymore. 

Anubis

Alhuriya, as the shadows fall, swirling fog touching ones blistered skin, death all around without a single shot, another hero dead on the ground, no living anywhere, rising up then dying down.

The corrupted gathering of souls, a ghoulish host, wiping clean a slate of many holes, smearing blood and flesh in one, an action of zealous fun, decision of treacherous greed that cannot be undone. 

Earth begotten planet of birth, humanity dispersed across its girth, corrupt implosion, poor begging to exist, stop the wailing with a sword and a kiss, wash clean history, with time, power gone, but not missed

Volcanic anger, violent shaking of land, a gigantic fault line slides, buildings crumble, dissipating power, infection from disease, depression is at hand, locust eat the grain, city crumble in pain, again. 

Once more the world is at rest, be it beyond the measure of best, rivers running, ice caps freeze, no human begging on knees, population zero, structures crumble as dust, soon mankind be forgotten the greed and lust. Warning is simple, Change or bust 

One Grave night

Walking through a shadow, hidden in the night, moondust sparkle, a gleaming, glowing Light, my heartbeat fastened, with heightened fearful plight, a darkened frame behind the gravestone shuddering with the fright, I ran through the graveyard there flew a screeching owl, he looked at me with reddened eyes, in its mouth something fowl, I in a panic, then tripped, into a pit, crashing through some broken bones, landing deep in ..............Sawdust and wigs, felt like something strange, I scrambled out of my ratted hole and never went there again. 

Memories of my Dad

Sixpence a tooth, a penny for seeds,  pigeons at Trafalgar Square hungry to feed off my shoulder, I thought Nelson was a brave soldier, Walking along the Embankment in a Sailor hat, salute H.M.S. Belfast and Naval Crew part, family trip on the Greenwich ferry, excited to depart, Battersea Fun Fair, eyes at the Big Dipper we’d hide, Carousel Horses on a circular ride, Houses of Parliament, Big Ben what a clock, Little Ben on the corner gave us all such a shock, the monument stairs were too far to climb, St Paul’s to the roof, with holes to the top, I would cry, it was high, on other occasions we see the pictures in Leicester Square, sometimes a Wimpy we’d have a Burger and A milkshake, Dad would pull out his hair and jump and stare, the cost was such, he’d tell us how much, then rant and rave, scare us to behave, what treasured memories to have from a child, sometimes wild and sometimes mild, my father has been gone for many a year, I wish that I had time with him again, just one more year, I’d watch him jump on the spot, red in the face and rather hot!.generous to a fault, love from the top 

Earths reel

Cut wire from a turtles neck, a penguin ring grip, why the thoughtlessness? narf makes yer sick, recycle is what?, it’s isn’t what it’s not, grip on an ocean, a broken rock, a reef of perpetual beauty, colours of a calcium crescendo, there’s no clown in anemone, no plankton for feed, no swarm of fish due to human greed, rest the seas they will reseed. Cleaner wrasse, Parrotfish sand, enjoy the moment with a helping hand, dolphin safe nets from a considerate brand. 

No gas to bake a cake

Glance at the phone, contacting no-one, letters unopened, see bygones be gone, lie in a darkened room while not wanting to venture outside, destruction all around, the death of a young bride

Loving, hugging, kissing, adventuring, a new beginning, a fresh breeze in life, taking a long honeymoon in a place afar from Fife, not long before it sours for the gullible young wife.

A debt to the national need, gambling addiction within the seed, the house is riddled with pests, cockroaches desperate to feed, woodworm will eat at the skirting, damp rots the eves, happiness never meant to last, it withered away fast.

dare not to open the door, unsure of the final score, wolves bang with sticks, men with tractors and picks, fear of facing the rain, he’d taken the gun and run, too surreal for what started as fun, unforeseeing what was to come, hidden within her shadow, the only reminder left is ache, no gas to bake a cake. 

A marriage blessed with Love

The blessings of god are with you now, to wipe the sweat away from your brow, the promise of love shall not withhold , the dove of peace, the gift of gold, an ancestral bond, a bloodline of wealth, a thousand years of living health, a marriage to sanctify the true feeling of hope, blessed by the lord admonished by a truth more powerful than the pope. 

Be true in your heart, love honestly for good, thank god for the richness of thy living proof, be free with each other, know each ones heart, soft as can be, so no poison flees at you from a poisonous dart. 

Bear children if given, call them names of good faith, teach them right from the start and how to behave, be joyous and spend, yet carefully save, give your life to follow good, die with each other as ye both eventually should, yet if one of you must leave the other first, set a righteous path to follow. 

Never let there be a thirst. 

Lola

Acrostic Poem About Lola

L is for Love, the way we feel for you, 

O is for Outrageous, you’re just so fun. 

L is for Love, the way we feel for you, 

A is for Alive, that’s how you make me feel.

Harry Potter or a Jotter.

Do you live in a cupboard under the stairs? Do you wake up unaware, darkness around your day, do not despair, joggle away, look for the miracles no more, a cloak, a magic book, a powerful wand, a place to go to like Hogwarts to abscond, the mystery is in your fingertips, imagination at your very core, if it’s exciting to read, it cannot be a bore, put it on paper, write it with a pen, if your feeling sad, place it on an IPad, it’s in your eyes mind to see, tap it down on your PC, be it in the future or in history,  do not wait until may, write down your frustrations. Do it today.  

A normal day

Walking along a gasp of wind blew dust, blinded by the obscene, I swore and cussed, walking up a hilly road, without much luck, I recall a manhole ahead broken by the dustbin truck, proud upright smelly men with their pungent trash the thought occurs, ‘they should be paid more cash’, I struggled on up the unpleasant hill, with sight of a mole, stumbling upon this unknown hole, could be a crazy individual looking for coal, hitting my head I fell forlong into an eight foot chamber, not seeing the danger, waking some hours later, wet from the soiling of a sewerage stream, noticing blood drip from my eye, I gave a little sigh; ‘what mess had I gotten into this time’ if it wasn’t ridiculous it would be sublime, feeling a little sad, thinking; ‘being a dustbin worker doesn’t seem that bad’ I struggled to my feet, what a memory to keep, reaching for my phone only to realise the battery had gone, I shouted for some help, I screamed for a passer by, but who would walk up that silly hill when they sensibly drive, besides it was getting late at perhaps nine o’clock at night, well, there was nothing for it but the pipe ahead right, climbing through getting even more wet, I wondered if the long narrow road to paradise would be as rough as this as my trousered knees ripped?, feeling humbled with the bliss, I longed to get home to the people I missed, ahead lay the sight of a pool of browny yellow piss yet the sight of a ladder on the other side could not be missed, so I swam for dear life with thoughts of my wife, at last I could climb to get out of this strife, to dream of a nice shower and get on with my life, when at last reached I struggled on up, there was an opening; oh what luck!, I stood up tall in the road and punched the air, even though I was covered in muck, I now write this from my hospital bed, ‘so blessed that I’m not dead,  ‘what happened”? I said to the Doc, he replied wryly without a bedside touch “surely you remember you daft old duck, you were standing in the middle of the road, said the driver of the Dustbin Truck!”. 

What a pain in my ass

Bowel Cancer - What a pain in my ass...

By Andrew Drake on diagnosis of bowel cancer

Came home one day, went to the toilet, shouldn’t feel this way,

Went to the hospital to have some tests, ‘cos there was blood I thought it was best,

Was told I had cancer, that wasn’t fun,

Who knew I’d get cancer up my bum?

 

Had chemo and radio, it’s all gone so well,

But these next 3 months are going to be hell!

Colon and asshole, it all gets cut out,

Into a bag I will shit, out of a spout!

For the rest of my life it’s gonna be fun, but think of the trees I will save,

From not using paper to wipe my bum!!!

 Ducks & Drakes Cancer Trust please google.

Raising awareness for young cancer sufferers, like all cancer early diagnosis is essential 

Rest peacefully- Andrew Drake

28th January 1985 to 30th September 2015

Reactional haste

Slow reactions, let the dust settle, respond in a week, first let your heart seek, traumatic moments are like mountains to climb, reactionary actions are decisions of time. darkness enters an open door. 

Coping with a problem while anxious of the cause, immediate response to weaken the plause, bid your weather, let it past, the taste of anger is not going to last, hate will eat your soul to death especially if you are wreckless at rest, wait a day wander on, consider which type of road you are on.

The next day is brighter than the last, a moment of war extraordinaire, in a heated battle, stop!, exchange a friendly hug, chuckle or chug, make excuses, apologies galore, that moment in time victoriously yours, be kind of heart that’ll make a good start, subtlety is hard yet an important part.

Friendship is built on kindness, deceit is poison. 

Handsome Young

As I grow old enough to recoil I can barely walk across this land of dreams with golden soil, country with meat aplenty, a cut of beef for the cost of twenty, simplicity past before my wake, Walking through I see them guffaw, then shake.

Not a pretty picture to look at man grown old, forgetting the moment he was tall and bold, good looking, skin of bronze, white toothed smile that lingered a while, each passing day takes away youth and sway, gone is the man, welcome the aged. 

On my cross! bear witness to thy good, take me home from a life in the hood, spectacular tale irrelevant now, maybe it’s a curse, I cannot understand how,  Rap’ is for the young, ill leave it at that, worn and old, it is a song, so I’m told. 

The trumpet calls,I do not care for the sound, a violin screeches in a hall that is round, the dog barks at the tv again, I stare at dust and wonder where I’ve been, how I got here?, what I have seen?, butterfly of beauty take me away, don’t leave me here for another day

I dance on Ice, waltz to Tchaikovsky, later I might visit Holby City, then I’m off into space exploring the galaxy visiting worlds that are ever so pretty, space stations scattered, welcome me in, then sleep has a hold and I’m away again, so scatter my bones, let them blow in the wind, mourn the memory of a lost friend, then get on with whatever life throws your way it will almost soon be your day. 

Recall of fear.

You stand tall on a chair, blue shirt, nappy on, only three, shining coconut hair, wirey curls, eyes that stare at a ghostly figure, yet no one is there, looking out from deep golden eyes, with your short young life, a horrific recall of fear enters here

you are away for a minute, some times of the day, a surreal distant moment, that only you can create, screaming for a while, until settled with pepper pig and a drink, taking a step back to have a think, what horrors might you have seen from that bottle of pink, rolled up paper smoke, a horrific recall of fear is here

Silent for what seemed like ages , I glanced as you froze, a statue at irregular moments, that soft gentle face, shaken, hit the wall, bruises after a pinch of anger, left dirty, alone, hungry, a burn on the skin from a drop of ash, one of these days you will forget all, with no horrific recall of fear that enters here. 

WoodBerry Down generation

Why?, oh please answer, why? 

You threatened, abuse in my direction 

Was I so different to you? 

Yes being a little coy, I was a Teddy Boy

There was never rascist tone, I was almost alone,

I never spouted hate, 

one look at the way I dressed made you irate

Winston Reeves, I loved the Rock ‘n’ Roll suits

The Music to boot, I loved Bob Marley too

Though you’d never have guessed

You just reacted to the fashion that I dressed

You weren’t guilty of the way you felt

There could be tough times in 1974 

Difficult for the Windrush core

Never knowing what kind of day you would have

The way you were treated could be hurtful for sure

I wonder what ever happened to you

Were you successful ? 

Like You deserved to be?, 

talented, clever, too skilled for a factory

Probably became a lawyer 

Fighting the cause in history

Or a drug dealer like everyone expected you to be 

Except Me.

Wavering

One never can tell, when they fall into the pit of hell, a mere matter of stress with a combination of duress, a loss of feeling alive, I pray it’s not contrive, not a position of restful strive, a bee without a hive.

Wonderful colour of Tulips, Golden bells galore, Bluebells of plenty, Amethyst are small. Pretty rabbits are out of bed, crocoideae Iris, whisper to Hyacinth, she may not tell, incredible to smell.

 Now where was I in story part or told, lost in thoughts, a transitional movement of the strangest kind, cannot travel beyond what I can see leading forward into the darkest caverns, being lead by the blind, don’t worry my dear, I’m very close behind. 

Roses of red, inconceivable to believe that they have grown up on gruel, Oliver the boy, matchstick girl, would make a great pair, Shoreditch church rings the bell,  the children desired love and food, wonderful stories in the Dickensian world, I slept soundly in a comfy little shell, pray before sleep

For fear of hell!. 

I never did find it

Walking along the pavement after crossing the road, there was a mysterious thing happening, a step for the bold, reaching the corner of a nunnery ahead, I heard the sound of a screeching thud, one step further, I could be 

Woken up on the corner from a hard slap to my face, unsure of the happening or the strange place. “Are you okay son?” a peculiar man asked,  not a Face that I had known from the past “yes, I think so I replied”, then nervously laughed. “What happened?”

Well the man exclaimed “a bus hit a car, the driver lost control, mounted the pavement then landed on you, the whole story sounded so bazaar, on the pavement run over by a car, seemed so cruel,  that it must be true, an ambulance came took me to hospital for a thorough check, when my mum arrived I was sobbing through, “what’s wrong”, she asked softly, “Why so blue?” I’m upset mum because I’ve lost my shoe.