Our Dogs

Our best friends are our dogs, they love to go out, waiting in anticipation and looking at us intently; which is their talk, waiting for their favourite word ‘walk’

When we go to work people left are disgruntled showing it upon our return, they rarely learn, our dogs no matter how long alone, are excited to see us, wanting nothing more than to give us a fuss, they don’t hiss and cuss; ‘not our dogs’ they love our hugs and cuddles then to sleep off their hard days sleep. Feeding them are no hard joys, eating food that is pre-baked then now and again having steak

When we go to bed they lay on the end, no trouble to mend except the extra leg room to stretch, then slowly slip up the bed, resting behind our knees then nearer our head, waking up with a kiss to check if we’re dead.

We will only have them for a few short years and when that day comes we will cry tears and tears, why do we go through it against all odds, because we love nothing better but to love our dogs. 

 

No Daddy’s rich girl #

I grew old but I did not see, the last time since you desired me

I remember my dad he told me ‘no’

You don’t go messing with any old hoe

no daddy’s rich gal from head to toe

No, No, Nooo daddy’s rich girl that can’t say ‘no’

Son, find a nice lady that you can love

a pretty little girl that won’t be shoved

I tell you this now coz I have paid

for loving everyone I have laid

they left me empty with nothing but bone

while talking to guys on the phone

so don’t go messing with any young hoe 

no daddy’s rich gal from head to toe

No, No, Nooo daddy’s rich girl that can’t say no

Swee—et as a cherry and nice as a pie

blond haired beauty from eye to eye

ve—ry tasty and a cute hello 

Great kissing lips you dare not go

So I say don’t go messing with any hoe

No spoiled rich girl from head to toe

No, No, Nooo daddy’s rich girl that can’t say no

Love & care

Enter the heart of a man alive

existentially focused on a will to survive

ministerial grimace, dreadful low fights 

struggled for always, or forever will strive 

War aimed at the poor a Thatcherism trait

unemployment is not welcome at the working gate

yet wealthy side stepping taxes is an acceptable fate

cash in the pocket of anyone’s mate

I believe in a socialist utopia 

where people can be in peace

not struggle to survive

thank not the rich for being alive

Everyone deserves peace and happiness forever

wealthy, poor or lying in the gutter

so be kind to all,  place feeling in your gut 

capitalisms  a way of living 

if you don’t mind being stuck in a rut

The fall

A Rocky Mountain, a long way to walk

desperate and alone 

it’s not worth the talk

a friend takes you under his wing

a moment in time hearing him sing 

rock is the toughest commodity on earth 

yet even rock tarnishes over fire

live honest, with a heart of truth

or grow soulless coz you are a liar

when your tired lay, down and rest

live tomorrow, get it of your chest

away awash when the rain doth fall

you will never grow old 

within the mountain call

The Price

The true cost of death is the loss of a soul

floating around houses with nowhere to go

tapping on windows, bouncing on beds

what a waste of time for someone that’s dead

Seventy years alive not achieving ought

then thrashing around dead wandering about

no reflection in a mirror, no smelling of scent

reminder in the garage is a car with a dent

spirit in a bottle, drink in hand

swallow it down then sing with the band

stumble from the pub fall into the car

crash through the tavern with the ornate bar

Mentioned as a person with a good heart

only unlucky the car had to start

a moment of joy, a will to drive home

taking a risk in the vehicle alone

Whisky to stay alive, a minute to die

randomly surprised by a fly in the eye

free to roam in absent abiss 

not a goodbye and no one to kiss

Heavens a gift for those who love life

a passionate faith and loving wife

respect for the living, prayer for the dead

choices were made so lay in your bed.

only a person, fool to be right

sleeping a long way, way into the night

take a prayer for a journey so rough

a road of hell without any love

Night Terror

How serene to be seen, walking in the park

yet not when it is dark, that is when

the monsters come out to play 

they carry you away, to where you dare not stay

Hidden in the shadows unseen

where they have always been 

In the under-grove ready; to tear at your spleen

you will for the last time, ever be seen

The wicked ghouls will first eat your heart

that is where they will start, then open your head 

making sure you are dead, kind of insane 

they will feast on your brain

A rapture of squeals, enjoying their meals 

you were walking alone with a mobile phone 

the last sound heard is gnawing your bone 

never should you have taken that walk alone

Remember that day waking up in sweat 

the blanket tightly round you, the bed soaking wet 

with heart pulsating, a dread in fear 

two thousand and twenty, that was the year! 

Do you remember?

Do you remember when

Days were at peace, feel good about the world?

Do you remember

Waking up thinking ‘this is a great place to be

I love everything especially the trees?

Do you remember 

First love, holding hands, spring flowers, summer sun

Days of rapturous fun? 

Do you remember 

Your children being born, love being torn

miracles of life were the look on your baby’s face

do you remember

much of it or snippets of pieces, why does it go?

I haemorrhage all that I am, no more do I know.