Alone

A sunny day, one or two, none so many, but there’s  been a few, 

I’ve never felt the warmth or joy, of holding near a loved ones ploy, 

the secret wish to be close with me, just holding hands in the rain, 

Gently kissing below the willow tree

I’ve never known what life is about, an unwanted feeling of fear and doubt

is it an illusion, a deep desire?

I’ve only known a disasters mire, bullying into submission, burning with fire.

A long hard trip

Intellectually astute, renowned for thinking, clever to the task, intuitively clinking, quickened logic formerly slick, emotional collapse when his brain went click.

Thoughts of the world, bridges built, towers of glass raised up from silt, mountains climbed, tunnels channeled, children hungry, politicians flannel

Disastrous read more bad luck news, a heart of flickers continual blues, he placed a rope on his neck then jumped from the bridge, said “what the heck”

Soul searching for peace, no peace found, regressing back to a torturous past, doomed throughout fading fast, nothing good would ever last. 

Closing eyes, until feeling fine then flew like a bird for a moment in time, sparkling stars, tightening grip, was this real, or just a blip, a cup of coffee, with one last sip, tragic end to a long hard trip

My Dad

My dad told me a story of forty years before, when he was young and there was a World war, I thought ‘he is old, well; what does he know anyway’?

the petulance of youth never seems to fade, ignorance is everything when you know it all,

Life has been difficult, if only I could hear him once more, to really listen, intent to learn, I would have had less bridges to burn, my father was a hero, a young voluntary fireman, a royal airforce cadet, saving Saturdays for a little shilling bet, Harold, Red & Pat, a short tempered rat with a heart of gold, a maniac cat he owned, it would always attack, confused and alone now though surrounded by friends, most times I think my life would end, I’ve no more to give, burned to the ground, to rest a buzzing mind from an abnormal sound, no, stay quiet, not be found. 

Do not look for me in the flowers

Do not Look for me in the flowers, the sky up above

A warm caress of love to your little girl pup

a Red breast Robin, comes quite near

gives a knowing look without any fear

I will not be a ghost wandering around

In the house there, I will not be found

I am not the the touch on your shoulder

the sound you heard jumping on the bed

I will not switch on the tv or open the shed

For god loved the world, he gave his only son

That whoever believes in him will be in heaven 

Do not look for my reflection in the glass  

I will be in heaven, probably sitting on my arse

do not cry for me for long,  you will see me again Do not look for me for long, an angel I will send  I’m not here on earth, I am gone. 

I will see you in heaven, home in the sky

If you believe in Jesus, I will be by his side 

I will look for you in the morrow’ 

I will search always, for you

somewhere over the rainbow

In the garden of Eden below the clouds too. 

Complete part.

Miles apart, Close together, 

Cliffs of chalk, mountains of heather,

awareness of presence, close to my heart

feeding a hunger, a feinted non-start.

Afraid of fear, dangers unknown,

wherever in the world, sadness alone,

contend to do right, a fiery red setter,

challenging rise of a future that is better

Don a cloud of grey and mist,

heavy heart, a mental twist,

Overcasting rain, well it gently falls

Overzealous thoughts, who knows or cares at all.

Who is your Judge?

One day, could be soon, there will be no choice…only one question to ask… 

who  is going to judge you for what you do now? 

Odious youth

Suffering youth a continual hurt 

alone in the playground expelled as if dirt

wanting to feel wanted extradited out

wondering on earth what existence is about

Misunderstood throughout life

giving it the best to struggle and strife

hoping for a pain to end his misery 

a sharp pointed knife in a whisky distillery 

Dapple grey with powerful eyes

a horse in a field blinkered blind

Petra standing on the right side 

his best friends nearby to confide

walking home alone the moon will follow

tipsy from drink sorrowfully hollow

photographs of children they have grown

beloved dog joyously chewing a bone

Tomorrow his birthday they all will come home