Below the Surface

If I scratch the surface,

would I find an itch?

or would I find a chasm

corroded by a bitch

either them be true 

my conscience it doth say

just stick a plaster on it

we'll look another day

It ends when it comes

A weakened soul replicates an owl 

concerned this delicate branch will fail

lay still, perturbed to retrace

today's shift a far off place

eventually will arrive in its own time 

if one awakens to save face

A constant sorrow known too well

frequently isolated constant spell

not to mention that fateful word

down in the dungeon unheard

way down where the brave men go

sleep will come, when?, they hear you so

don't be ridiculous, no man will know

Memories trace back, looking forward

A piece in the middle, a quizzical walrus

cutting through ice a piece at a piece

life's not forever it's only on lease

a day past an hour, aquire some sleep

everything ends in black 

Magnus

                          

                        Saw it

                    all in one day

             a vibrant view at noon     

        fifteen revolutions of New York 

     one hundred and thirty three days 

     alone on a deserted space station   

 Sahara dessert craves attentive yelloW

   the stars come out at night to sparkle

    relevantly radical and awe inspiring 

       electrical engineer remarkable

           sts -112, 2002, neemo 11

                  specialist system

                      sts - 119

                        

Damn Garden

Autumn is here,

once again my garden is covered in leaves, you see it's surrounded by trees,

every November I pick them up,

every November I pick them up, 

every November I pick them up,

I could have been a singer, a roofer, I could have been the man fixing your computer, but that damn garden is covered in leaves, so I better pick them up, while I'm down on my luck.

Ghosts in the past

Curb your enthusiasm 

how dull is a wrench

silver sparkle within the black

relieve the pressure off his back

rusty cart requires oil, a ponies last trek

closed yet spirits remain on the track

Curb your enthusiasm

how dark a town be

kept alive with death, no returning muscle

white skin, a shower put in 

vegetable soup, you're off the grisle

a monument built of steel to last 

the ghosts are far off in the past

Curb your enthusiasm 

Robin of sherwood, oh Nottingham sigh

it was inevitable!, treacherous scum cry

the day must end, so doth the year

so scatter wide, thy noise round fire 

open a tin, settle in and have a beer

the rich have Christmas

our spirit died here.

Loved but Hated

I wish no harm, an unbearable pain 

tearing at my sanity, emotionally inept

overwrought with compassion

holding normality together 

tragically silent in suffering

while the world suffers hate

weeping without showing

shut the fucking gate

Please shut the fucking gate

Plea's screaming unheard

my heart suffers deep

I cannot change the circumstance 

in which action that I weep

the mind overuneth,

the cup hath no chance

torture oneself cruely 

then have another dance 

do not be seen

have another dance

Continue without showing

I cannot bare life anymore

continue but not giving

a hint of what's in store

a paradoxical torture 

ironical so it seems

honest in a weakness 

hate me for loves sake

not meant to be a bore

so shut the fucking door

Please shut the fucking door

I hear the Woodpecker

Hear the sound of a baby crying

the baaing of a sheep

a gentle sound of wheezing while

you lay asleep

A rustle in the treetops

thundering of the rain

whistle in the chillin' wind

tears through a sorrowed brain

Darkness is a torture

as if we are but blind

exhilarating journey 

of a hazardous kind

The hooting of an owl tells the

screeching of a bat 

"hear that captured rabbit scream,

he's caught in a foxes trap"

wonderous sounds of life

delightful adrenalin fright

fills the world with peaceful joy

through shattered sleep at night

tired in the evening

exhausted in the day

depression grips the dead inside,

he has a peculiar way. 

Love is peace

individual terrorists kill

pathologically, abnormal 

aim at will

theologically twisted 

pour tuer l'innocence

evil bastards do not feel

peace loving Muslims, Christians too

should stand together to deny you

group of devilry have no place 

upon this earth for the human race

les emmener a' l'enfer

evil disgrace

lavage de cerveau par le mal

save the world with love

use it as a power

from the Lord above

they shall not win 

with a Kalashnikov 

Man

Virtual command incorporates artificial intelligence, play a game, score a win,

artistic imaginations locked in, 

then begin.

Organic computers reading books, correct Childrens future spelling, mathematical logarithms, "you should know this your five years old!" 

round fat futuristic race, humanity lazy, keep up with the pace, "please lift your feet" the robot will ask with a smile on its face, networked killing machines linked to control the human waste. 

Control biorythms, great machines, mental reasoning to program likewise hand it over to trilobites of microbiological technicality, write the program for eventuality, leave it to them, then 

forget the ability. 

technologicaly advances beyond the plan

Authorise computers to reason with man

Hand them birthright, Citizenship main

give permission to control the game

humanity over joyous, pursue to be gods

hypocritically arrogant, 

self righteous sods

"bright endeavour from where did you come?", "I came from the place, a birthright of son, they seek perfection

but none they will find, the human race 

is far too unkind". "oh bright endeavour what shall we do?", "let the light have its pleasure to see the work through","microwave the planet be rid of its host, peace reign on Earth",

"when man is a ghost".

Wear a poppy?

Though I forget not, the least I can give

succumbed to the moment of loved ones distress, I weep with heart fullness address.

Every son blindly into war, courageous at a score, death doth not become a pure boys heart, he never so young was meant to depart.

Adorn a poppy not for the pleasure of conflict, nor for the conflict of pleasure, nor for the worth of having a measure. Adorn a poppy if one must for the innocence of a youthful gust.

If one must die, a necessary cause or just, not a decision of a greedy must

fight against repression of soulful will

Not the chance of a financial kill

we have enough ornaments,

on a window sill.

This day gives for a child who blindly gave his life, for the husband of a grieving wife, for the soldier who lived and died by the knife, one cannot repair a heart with mournful blight.

Same year, worlds apart!

1935 when you were born,

like a fall from grace, you captured us all.

you loved everyone, everyone loved you,

precious as a child, sensitive and brave, Doodle bugs dropping wave after wave, you got me through when I heard King Creole, I had a clean home not a shit hole.

The Angels were singing 'Love me tender' when you went with God to his big wide home, you could be peaceful in the valley and quite unknown.

judgement day would not come for you that day, for you were welcome in heaven anytime, come what may.

you were generous, caring, without fault, you sang as though you were an angel 

I heard as your biggest fan, I have always felt 'Lost', even more now your not here, now I am a man, I find it hard to stand

yet I will!, If it is gods plan, I will stay here till' my end to meet with you again

an Elvis fan and a loving son, most wonderful woman that lived in my eyes, 'My Mum'.

The November Line

Witness the intensity of planets this week

perception of a highway into heaven

Path to the earth, distant from the moon

destination to the stars, elapse too soon

"step up, step up" each person see

a serendipitous shift in ones destiny

Blackness' o'er the land and wide 

ubiquitous, far-reaching, sound

content to shred the fear to hide

bloodened be the stain abound

inception be an eerie place

birthright of the Satan race

grace' take us fast in our sleep

deliver us swiftly from the world

Oh'liberate us from the Devils keep

as lambs we follow into hell

the teacher knows his pupils well.

I write coz

I write to the moonlight, I write to the stars,                   
I write about sorrow, I write about scars,                
I write when I'm happy, I write when I'm sad,

I write about feelings that drive me half mad,

most of all I write to be me, 

to travel to places, set my life free

I write to Christians, aethiests and Jews,

Consistently write the wrong words to you

the featureless face hides a mannequins grin, 

the soulless echo of words deep within,

I write of the teenagers in romantic sin

party animal people pissed up with gin

mostly I write for the gluttonous bin

now look at the fucking state I am in

Troubled Sleep

I live, work, breathe, go through the motions, unnequivocally unchanging 

on the narrow path tiresomely steep

yet I'm  always asleep when I weep

rattled by the things I see and hear

almost an inclusion, a sight 

a narrow corridor, a peep

most people are confoundly irritated when I am around, perhaps that's why I'm always asleep when I weep

I've heard it before absorbed from generations of ancient stories given to us by centuries past through the ground

I'm far too stupid to be profound

Grandad died with a knowledge 

he has taken it with him to keep

Yet to me it's a repetitive sound

maybe that's why I'm always asleep when I weep, too tired to carry on

I always sleep then I weep

Pine table

Nostrils saviour the smell of pine

turn, cut, smoothen out

craft of a hand steady

skill is detail

a bowl

fruit

table

Inanimate 

collecting dust

thirty years a tree

thirty years for me

rotten sweet fruit

mouldy apple

soft plum

sandpaper 

return to wood

senses are mine

the faint smell of pine

polish with antique wax

put it on the big brown table

fruit in a bowl sit down and relax

Innocent smiles😌

Soggy vegetables, worn out shoes

detestable conditions the air is dry,

cockroaches;crunching sound on polystyrene tiles, 

damp squalid walls

hear the joy of innocent smiles

draconian blue, poppy red,

dust in the lungs of a perpetual youth,

moulded rice cakes,

mucused slime of trailed slugs suggesting a pattern, 

concrete cancer in towers, 

high rise fall from sloth

ignorant minds, innocent smiles

smoothed green fur surrounding metal windowed frames,

condensational graffitied glass

a nose resting all eyes seeing 

view of a spectacular city

gun goes "bang bang", innocent smiles

wheezing, sneezing, depressed,

bronchial pneumonia 

tear stained tshirt,smell of death consumed stale oxygen for the last time

a new born baby, an innocent smile

Have you ever?

"Aah bless them they are so lovely, look at them sitting quietly in the corner, turn the music up Dave, let's enjoy this rave"

"Aaah, are you alright loveys?, have you got a drink?", "what would you like?", "a lager and a sherry, Aaah alright", "DAVE GET THE OLD COUPLE IN THE CORNER A LAGER AND A SHERRY" AND HURRY UP COZ IM FEELING MERRY"

"that was good what a laugh, now I'm gonna have a bath!, watch that old couple don't fall asleep, I'm sure he's had too many whiskys, oih don't you get frisky!"

"Aaah have you had fun?, perhaps you should go home now, it's getting late! 

there you go, don't forget to shut the front gate, now they've gone we can party great"

"it was a bit young for them oldies, who invited them Dave?, they should be in bed by ten!. you did you daft aper, come and give me a hug then" and listen to the New year by the bells of Big Ben

Trials and tribulations of a narcissist

An awkward end a deliberate lie

forcing a bid to ask the question...why?

tattered, shred, a worn out bed

Obliviously blind

must be soft in the head!

The cheese has turned a revolting smell

inside the corpse holds a rotting shell 

half a bottle of corked valpollicella 

fragments on the carpet,

I could not tell her

shattered, whimsical to the end

a broken glass that could not mend

Relativity holds the key

it must be something withinside of he

a damaged chromosome

mutilated gene

something so hidden

that cannot be seen

A flowers strength, veins up the stem

neatly ironed trousers, a damaged hem

trod on by shoes covered in shit

a narrow point of view, steep sided pit

On the edge of a mountain

through snow covered hills

a blizzard forecast

photographs are stills

Movement described by an artists hand

the chills moved on to the pleasant land

seven archangels a musical theme

welcome once more

to the promised dream

Northern Line

Observing the tunnel, from a midnight view, contemplating his dinner a mighty beef stew

The angel ahead seen as a light, signals are good, green shows alright, platform edge clear, passengers move back, except for one man looking down on the track, he did not respond to the hoot of the horn, unknown to the driver he wished he weren't born

brakes screeching hard stop with a thud, one carriage past, on the screen there is blood

"stay in the cab" the controller advised

driver distraught,  reacting quite brave, somewhat contrived

a selfish act if they have their say,    

that inconsiderate person destroyed our day

try to see it the other side, a family destroyed, a heartbreak for a bride

sad loss for a girl as beautiful as the sky

deserves more contemplation than a whimper and sigh

 a tragedy for many, a soul gone wrong

life is so precious live it for long

The Carpenters Arms

Truman light ale methodically pumped into a glass, whisky at 1/6th of a Gill always politely passed,

Yet this quaint little pub on the corner had a secret in its past

Painted deep blue colour on the window pane, sign above the door that says please come again

Mum counting change backwards with a smile on her face, Bill has one more whisky chaser almost a disgrace

The Landlady would ask for help in the small dark cellar, Mum would nod approval, if i had the chance to tell her

Bottles down the chute stacked into crates, 'enjoyed life then' working at eight, remarking happily to my mates.

Childhood recollections of good times, at a last, such a shame those days have gone along with the working class. 

life is Cruel, uncaring, obtuse, somehow crass

Yet this quaint little pub on the corner had a secret in its past.

Suffering

The will to aquire strength lacking the ability to persevere evades an aching  heart that beats irratically within oneself,

a mind so disturbed  causing irrational depression, paranoia beyond any radical reasoning although it is true to be a victim without any convincing gain, a continual burden, repetitiveness in pain 

Perceptional hatred of an unjust society creating ruptured social skills requiring one to feel as if to kill, however turning in on oneself, a loathing of a pessimistic kind, raging internal destruction

a death within ones mind

depreciative national pride for the foolishly deceived, baying angrily at the suffering of unjustly treated 

if heaven will, dying would serve thee well

Forgiven for a mortal sin released from hell.

Just like James Dean

Dear Cousin Vinnie desired to be mean

hard as nails, run with the gang

die very young just like James Dean

Yet to me he was the kindest person that's ever been seen

Dear Cousin Vinnie in with the scene

one look with silence all it would need, pretty girls attracted to the dream

hard as nails and twice as mean

Yet to me he was the kindest person that's ever been seen

Dear cousin Vinnie always too keen

to be in hell,

take some drugs to go and sell

fit in with the sort of scum there could be                       die very young just like James Dean

Yet to me he was the kindest person that's ever been seen

Dear Cousin Vinnie the most intelligent at school 

robbed a bank with a gun to be seen as cool 

seven years incarcerated in a cell painted green

Yet to me he was the kindest person that's ever been seen

Dear Cousin Vinnie convinced by his own zeal injected some drugs, from his girlfriend would steal 

lost lots of weight forgot his last meal

wished to die young just like James Dean

Yet to me he was the kindest person that's ever been seen

Dear Cousin Vinnie on the edge of blame

living in a fantasy, thought he knew the game, eloquently exaggerated his own fame, smartly dressed to pristine 

loved by my mum Doreen 

Yet to me he was the kindest person that's ever been seen

Dear Cousin Vinnie was alone

In his room, on his bedside lay some fine white powder and liquid on a spoon 

unable to comprehend, before' he was so clean although he wanted to die young just like James Dean

to me he was the kindest person that ever was seen.

A witty remark

A witty remark spoken with haste

deeply insensitive irrational waste

where it came from was evil bespoke

for the speaker was usually a very nice bloke, thoughtful of others never unkind

weeps at the news, feels for the blind

so where did it come from it certainly was steep to say such a horrible thing from the deep, apologies made forgiven at once,  though conscience will punish for being a dunce, never again will he speak with such farce, balance will come and have the last laugh.

?

Harsh as a blistered wind

frozen to a natural blue

It is times like this 

When I think of you 

Drawn in deeply 

protective stance

wish you were here 

for one more dance

Solitude with loneliness

Loneliness in a crowd

crossing over the line 

covered in a shroud

Feel like shouting 

"look I am here"

it's easier to sleek down in a chair

Ignore the world

as if it's not here

Everything's heavenly

contradiction yet true

It will never be the same here

until I am with you. 

The Poet

performance without an audience

written with a broken heart

words of love that may have gone

though never meant to part

gregarious in his nature

with a Hidden depth 

articulated feelings, from a soul inept

humility as a warning

sentences on a page

conceptual with the detail

affectation into rage

so scribe the written pasture

the beauty of the beast

place it on a page of hell

for whoever cares the least.

Oppressed regression

content to suffer, no person has known

Contempt is all that has ever been shown

persecuted in execution, defeatist in life

beat with a chain, cut with a knife. 

fear is the bravest strength in ones sight

Pleasure in pain to howl with delight

Love Lost

How fragile life is

irreversible enough to live it free

freedom is a condition 

not everyone can see

whether in your heart 

your minds eye be

I missed the moment, 

for you are no longer here

you filled my life 

with warmth and cheer

forevermore on and on

Brobdingnagian world  

with pockets of space 

darkened by the missing

presence in your grace

I remember every detail

of a beautiful face

burdened not to show love

a gift given from the Lord above,

unpleasantly some find it a task

hidden rather within a mask

not appear to be seen weak

they do not know it is a gift

given to the celestial meek.

Pretence knows not why

they fear to begin

hence unhappy features

are saddened within

accepting love be ya tortured sin

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