Thursday, 28 December 2017

Norman

He’s big, He’s old, He’s rather bold, on his arms his muscles have dropped instead of being up on top. His scars are there for all to see, marks of hardship in his history.
His children see dad,  his grandchildren see nothing, a bald headed old man that once was something, he stood on one whilst swinging at another, back to back with his hard arsed brother.
 One day on a dark winter night, a shot in the dark through a gangsters sight. Blood ran fast from his temple down, he fell in the river and almost drowned, surviving a hit, his brother did not, stabbed in the chest from a criminal yob, a big part of him died that day, his brother lost, gone...away.
Sat in his chair now, quiet, in thoughts, memories of times he could have bought, a flash suit, Italian shoes, a Ford Cortina, he met a beautiful woman, you should have seen her, wife of ten years until she was not, he remembered her mostly until he forgot.
Retirement leaves him quite alone, surrounded by family wishing him gone, forty years a special in the force, the police were his closest family of course, long hours, long years, lots of joy and lots of tears, a Medal for the times he done his best, a fairly good pension for years of fight, it does not help him sleep at night.
The nights are dark and woefully long, so much time left to continue on, grand children look at him and say “old man”, give us thirty quid I’m in a jam, really to buy 1/4 of a gram.






Alarm

alarm... ‘get up’... Doze
alarm alarm.... ‘get up!’.... Doze
Alarm alarm alarm... ‘get up get up!’.... Doze
ALARM ALARM....’GET UP!’..... Doze, have wee
ALARM! ALARM! ALARM! ALARM!
wife.... “WILL YOU TURN OFF THAT BLOODY ALARM, AND GET UP!!”
get up... “Sorry”
Panic



Wednesday, 27 December 2017

Rana Plaza

United Colours or the monsoon, they met death all too soon, over a thousand I hear the score, dare not forget a hundred and thirty four more. Joe Fresh with the Mango, Pri their Mark make enough profit to keep a whale size shark. Quiet though they be free, seven dollars, thirty a worker  is a complete travesty.
The building heard a rumble with weight too much and most of it on top it began to crumble, generators on the highest level, the floors were at a bevel. Workers were panicky and frightened  “go back to work or your pay will be tightened”, threatened with the sack, too scared not to go back, each one walked in too soon, their fate sealed their doom, there was death in every room.
Floor by floor the building collapsed, while others worked hard, for fear not to, go back. Most tried to run, the night met the sun, the devils hand at work once more has gained victory with his plan.
Lessons were learnt that fateful day, a domestic building not to be used that way, fire safety, sprinklers and all, generator on top is a forbidden new rule, workers lines have been set up for most of complaints, the workers are treated better, but not as good as saints, pay has improved a few dollars a week, more work, tighter schedule their owners do seek, exonerated, nor blameworthy their fashionable house , one dollar more cost for the conscientious louse. Crumble the concrete or pay the bill, there’s profit to be made if your prepared to kill.


Tuesday, 26 December 2017

Out of the darkness

The slippery slope of hell, I could not tell. Gradually slipping down shrouded for my miserable existence, I questioned everything, everything replied with anger, viciousness, gnarled teeth from angry black dogs grabbing at my mind tearing at my sanity until I became withdrawn from all of mankind, hurt by the way they mistreat each other, anything to cause pain in a cowardly malicious way so as to protect themselves from their own stupidity and fiery spitefullness, beckoning to challenge those weaker than themselves for sickening joy.
 I whom continually am surrounded by people, yet alone pondering troublesome thoughts for whatever cause over many years, entering a blacker tunnel as I begin each day, year, realm of sadness, never finding the worthiness of life on this Earth, burdened by more than debt could afford, going on until the end when suicide is the only answer left before me, then you were born from one of the dreadful mistakes I have become. Overwhelmingly mesmerised by your sight, light shone from your eyes, your wonderfulness pulled me from the brink of death and desperation, out of the darkness into the light it was there at that last gasp that I found life and began to live.






Tuesday, 21 March 2017

The Milestone

A stone marks the location where the highwayman waited, where the fisherman baited, where the lost man found his way from lost and exasperated Grass grew on its quiet country lane, a horse drawing a cart slowly up a hill start, 1 mile from where a lover feels the need to depart, from a beautiful lady that broke his heart A marathon was won, joy on all the people's faces then there were none left for the races, a motorway can be seen in the far off distance, yet it lies there still, quiet at the bottom of that hill, there's Buttercups and daffodils, the spring is here, goodbye at last to winters chill, dust spread far and wide from the old windmill Sat navs and gadgets packed lunches with faggots, 70 miles per hour, bread from the flour, it lies there still and for a thousand years will, a secret to tell forever more keep, tears from my eyes where I once did weep, you passed from us mother, my memories still hold, the wonderful things and the stories you told, a lock of your hair is under the throne of the little white rock called a 'Milestone'




Friday, 17 February 2017

Normal/Insanity

Are we a person who is inward looking out, other people around moving at a pace while we consider it's just another race, perceiving that insane normality could be on the sharp point of a blade, maybe the slanted edged absorbing disciplines to be normal, the other sliding down into the depth of hellfire losing the will to be strong, evidence of any emotional adjustment regressed to a former self of loathing and fragility, anger & paranoia pursues a weakness buried deep within humbling broken spirits, one predicament left to decide, hopefully for not too long is 'which side are we presently on?, are we going to slip to reveal a deep wound for others to pick at opening to a sizeable crater, the poor will of an exposed crumbling nothing for all to see or the strength of an ox with plasticised skin?.

Saturday, 28 January 2017

When the darkness fell

The months were warm, the sun shone bright, a picturesque few weeks that were quite serene, the greatest times in life were shortened by that scene, as the dark cloud ascended from who knows where, into a life of confusion wrought with despair, destruction and chaos had found a new friend  that's when i knew, it became the new end.

 Unexpected, imaginary life times of trial for man had become the weakness in himself, that killed with a smile
Limbs torn from flesh, bodies lay still, blood on the kitchen floor, thick and congealed, flies lay the eggs for their own chosen meal, tortured in mass dying and ill, the future of man silent and still.
The corruption of the makers were the only takers, allowing that wretched horror to be brought,the national health weakened by greed, the filthy rich had grown their own seed, poorest of all died long ago, left in the mess they were allowed to sow. Poor health, hunger and disease had killed, all in its path all weakened until still.
The months were warm, sunny and serene when the darkness fell it was quite a scene, the dark cloud grew larger in the sky, no one had time to stop and ask why,
In a moment we were there, then no more, when the darkness fell at our front door....

Friday, 27 January 2017

It fell


It fell a long way into the depth of an upturned spire, a cross of Christ the lord crucified upside on.
Falling and falling, flowing downwards around the shape of barley twist, begging to catch a barb on the way, yet missed. forgotten memories, names long gone even the one with the consideration of a song. The chemicals not working, barbiturates all the same, forgotten the tune, word as a name, tumbling on into darkness lay asleep or dead?, it's all going on inside of the head, only one can tell for the thoughts still trouble, treasured history among the rubble, lights long fading in to dark of night 
love to be saddened the lessened to share
But what's the bother now, not a soul alive cares.

What a commotion

Blink, irreversible ripple wave, sleep irrevocably saved fall on a hardened floor, destroying foundations at war caution be the sign, if req...