Keeping Fit

Running round, he must keep fit, going to the gym three times a week.

Sit ups, leg ups, bicycles too, swimming in his local baths where the water looks so blue.

he got up at six, ran fifteen miles, observed by the ladies with plenty of smiles.

building up muscles, arms, legs and torso, then ran another ten miles, bum and thighs also.

Georgie played football for his local club, always started was never a sub

mental exercise, challenging games, he competed to heights, putting athletes to shame.

different targets every day, always high and never the same

keeping fit, waging war on the fat

until that day, enough was enough, he fell to the floor and collapsed on the mat

ten minutes later they pronounced him dead, Georgie was gone,.. .. that's the end of that.

Joshua

His hair is long and fair, a delightful child, if just, a tiny bit wild
Intelligent and creative, definitely blessed, he can and does play a fair game of chess
Only small for his age, he'll probably grow, we will see, what does one expect with his family tree
Yet he is the cutest boy he ever could be, quick with he answers if you push him you'll see
He will always give people the time of day, if something else doesn't get in the way.
Love and thoughtfulness makes him so special, So happy to give and share all he's got
one day he'll grow to be a Pilot, a Copper or a Programming Techno or maybe not.
whatever he is, it doesn't matter to his dad, mum or me, so long as he grows to be happy

I hope that I'm around when that time comes, to join in the praise of my lovely grandson.

monster

Monsters all around

Giants are all around, it was frightening the first time I went outside

my Father said "don't fear, just stay to the side and  keep well clear" 

yet they are so big, and have killed so many, although in my family they haven't killed any

for we are as wise as they come, I soon learnt not to walk in the middle of the thundering hum. 

a noise so loud, so scary too, ugly great beasts marching together

some with machines, making a sound so powerful. going on forever
killing millions as they go, crushing all in their path, friend and foe

we are a working race, we work quickly without any haste
not disturbing a single thing, we just work hard and quietly sing
carrying and fetching to pay tax to the queen, hardly heard and hardly seen
so why is it these beasts go killing?, our population must be dwindling
they stomp along in their things called shah - hoo's
well that's what my mother calls them, she said "it's in the news"

if only we could be big, like some great beasts
awful monsters, we would have a feast
crunching and munching and lunching on their bones
we wouldn't even hear the sound of their moans
because we'd be to large hearing their cries
their noise, their grumble or their sighs
oh, i wish I was as big as an ele - f - fant
instead of being a tiny little ant.

Fascism has no passion ism

Isolated in subsequent division
Departed from a torturous history
Guilty of a murderous past
The whole world knew, it could not last
A perfect earth is what they sought
A spotless race speaking Flemish
Without any blemish.
White hair with sky blue eyes
Hearts as cold as the clearest ice
No colour, no race,
no creed could exceed
No homosexuals, no Jews
No religion that one could choose
Almighty power, Germanic scripture
National socialism was its picture
Not the socialism of sharing wealth
Neither a socialism good for your health.
Hitlers youth, brain washed swallowers, not joyous, loyal loving followers
SS soldiers spiteful, violent officers
Murderous thieves, a fearful nation
Scared to display signs of passion
Togetherness should be display of love,
bringing people in with a gentle hug
Supporting the poor feeding the needy
Not murdering right wing and seedy
Love every woman and man
be as happy as you can
Jew' Muslim or Greek
Search for god in all you seek.
Love your children, go and show it, Hold them near, try not to blow it.
Away with hate, crush evil pride
Jesus loves you no need to boast
Spread the love from city to coast.
Help those in need and give them your time.
A gentle push not a forceful line.
master or servant, worker or boss
Jew or Christian, atheist or black
Share with thought and not turn your back. let it happen again at your peril
No striped pyjamas for an old lady named beryl.

Lucie Lou

He was beaten black and blue and didn't know what to do
He wandered everyday his mind was split in two
The next move to make is a mystery to a few
to walk round the park again and forget about Lucie Lou
At home was a father, drunk and in a rage
in Boston was a beautiful girl of a similar age
To leave all his friends, the life he'd grown up with
or to be with his love in town, at a place called Mist
Birds in the air flying all around just like his mind that was spinning in a cloud
He walked way into night, an owl hooted above, so scared of going home to a father that could not love
That was fifty years ago to this very day
Peter started wandering and wandering he'd stay.
People often ask the wardens what's that old man do.
They say he just wanders round the park searching for Lucie Lou.

TROUBLED YOUTH

HE WAS LOST, WHEN A SMALL LAD,
HE DELVED INTO POETRY THAT'S ALL HE  HAD
A LARGE FAMILY BUT STILL ALONE,
YET ALL THAT CHANGED WHEN HE HAD GROWN,
ELEVEN YEARS OF TORTUROUS HELL
SOMETIMES HE WOULD WANT TO SCREAM AND YELL
UNTIL ONE DAY, A FIGHT HE FOUGHT, A FIST IN THE FACE
AN ARGUMENT OVER NAUGHT, A RELEASE OF RAGE
A LONG AWAITED COMING OF AGE, A FEELING OF OPPRESSION
UNBINDING OF CHAINS
NEVER NEEDING TO FACE IT AGAIN.
ALTHOUGH MEEKLY HE WOULD TRAVEL THROUGH LIFE WITH GOOD FRIENDS AND AN ADORING WIFE.
NOT EVEN ONCE WOULD HE FORGET THAT DAY
HE WOULD BOW ON HIS KNEES TO THANK GOD AND PRAY
THEN IT CAME AROUND, HE WAS GIVEN THE SACK BY HIS CONTROLLING BOSS BECAUSE HE WAS BLACK.
"WHY?" HE ASKED IN DISMAY .
 HIS BOSS SAID "COZ I'M SICK OF LOOKING AT YOU, FROM JANUARY TILL MAY.
NOW GET OUT OF MY PREMISES AND JOIN THE CHAIN GANG
ANGER TOOK OVER FOR HE SEE RED
ONE PUNCH IN THE FACE HIS BOSS FELL DOWN DEAD
THE JUDGE ASKED WHY HAD HE COMMITTED THIS CRIME
THEN ORDERED HIM TO JAIL FOR A VERY LONG TIME
HE HUNG HIS HEAD IN SORROW FOR THIS SIN
HE WENT TO PRISON AND POETRY WOULD BEGIN
VERSE AFTER VERSE HE WOULD WRITE SOFT WORDS
OF LOVE AND DESPAIR AND THREE LITTLE BIRDS
UNTIL ONE DAY HE COULD TAKE NO MORE
HE PUT THE ROPE UP AND SLAMMED SHUT THE DRAWER
A SMALL POEM HE HAD WROTE ON THIS DAY
MAY GOD FORGIVE ME AND ALSO MARY MAE.
LAID IN A GRAVE BY A SMALL CROSS
SWEET WORDS ON A PLATE
GOD FORGIVES SINNERS AND THOSE WHO ARE LOST

JIM

I LIKED JIM, WAS A HELL OF A DAD,
SOMETIMES FUNNY AND SOMETIMES MAD
SALT OF THE EARTH THEY WOULD SAY,
WAS GLAD TO HAVE A PINT WITH HIM, ON THAT DAY
CONTINUOUSLY WORRIED WITH A TROUBLED LIFE,
WASN'T HER FAULT, HIS TROUBLED WIFE
STILL ALL THE SAME, I FELT FOR JIM
OFTEN ALONE, NOT PANICKING
WHAT A GREAT MAN I LOOKED UP TO.
SHOULDERS FIT TO CARRY,
A RHINO FROM A ZOO
ALONG CAME THE TIME, UNEXPECTED FOR HIM
A BROKEN HIP, AN ORSE-PITAL TRIP
THE INEVITABLE HAPPENED A WHILE AFTER THAT
TOODLE-PIP, HAD TO SEE YOU GO
TO THE BIG CIRCUS, A WONDROUS SHOW
I'VE MISSED YOUR LAUGH, YOUR FRIENDSHIP TOO
WHEN UNDER PRESSURE, I  THINK OF YOU
I'M SURE I'LL SEE YOU WITH HIM JIM
WHEN MY TIME'S AROUND, TO BE THROWN  IN THE BIN.

WISHFUL THINKING!

Where did you come from?, where did you go?

away to south Africa?, nobody knows

What would it be like, to be swathe like you?

tall, good looking in Italian shoes

to be great at everything, must be so grand,
have lots of money banking the rand.

attractive to women, strong, muscular arms, very nice house everyone in-charmed.

surely it's better than being short and round,
Hush Puppy shoes,

not a lot money, only ten pounds

Spectacles are crooked, worn out old clothes,
belly's so large, can't see me toes

best friends are mice, eating the cheese, left in a trap to free as they please

small rented house, news papered walls, even the crossword is far too tall.

went to the dogs Friday night,
there were beautiful women, to trouble with fright,, never got far,
travel by bus it's less attractive than a car and far more fuss.

Oh well that's life, each to their own, away I go home to chew on me chicken bone

it's rather sad to not be that man, to not have it all and not have a plan

yet if one should ask, would he swap his life,
to not be trusted and not be shy, forge ahead, not live in a pig sty?..,

I would answer, of course I would, if I could,I think I should.
then after some thought as one to do ought. 

considered the change, what it would mean,
not be alone and not be so keen,

to have everything, without a any dream,
be bold and brash, not scared to be seen

without any doubt me old brums, I'd take everything the jag and false chums.

A rich man I'd be until there were none left, I'd sell everything and train as a chef.

Lost now, your gone

The futures bleak, the outlooks grim
I search my heart, yet cannot sing. feelings left by grieving's hand
Concrete foundations turned to sand
Worst is the sorrow since we've grown
Loss and doubt, on one's own. remorse, no reason yet fully blown
sadness like none has known.
but away with it the tides of life
away and gone the hand does lead
in thoughts of selfish wanton greed
No more will I hold you, see you laugh and share our words of heartfelt love
In assurance a life of unbearable pain until we are there with you again