Pictures of our own

Every memory for some a reminder of once lost

 triggers a a time of joyful emotional cost

pray for the moment your soul is at rest

an extra vacation of forgiveness 

away the anxiety be it a hardened crest

then be still lost, with no caress

The feeling long past can restart justifiable pain

yet, maybe a reminder to never return there again.

No way off

Each day fades and is done, 

retrieval of memory from the previous one,

Tired, so tired of the following to come

not knowing where this roundabout begun

there is no way off until the trial is gone

Hateful Heart

Gone are the strays and waifs that walk the streets 

Gone are the right wing thugs that steal your beets

Away goes the truth, the friendly face, no disgrace

In the past are the fascist tellers of whitened hate

Lift your arm you encourage hate

wearing a swastika at the garden gate

do not come around here with your rascist spate

the dance will not die, freedom is fate

Wealth is the knowledge of a brothers love 

different nations and a protective glove 

Open barriers and borders too 

Share our food, our wealth, a collective stew

Learn with knowledge, grow together 

give each nation a hand, welcome all those  

from another land, most of all find peace  

let go of the hate with a thousand year lease

Look from glass

You look at the world without a smile 

Moving inadvertently for a little while 

Catch your breath then begin to choke 

Shouting inappropriately beyond bespoke 

For a tiny moment you fall asleep 

Eyelids flutter as if to peep 

Some speak of kindness to 

Relinquish life, Stop the pain 

Never let you be born, again and again 

Pure births for a righteous stake 

Perfect people for for perfect sake 

Accept the reason for a clinical race 

Without a blemish, no mark or trace 

I Listen to your awesome sound  

The youthful joy, a colour found 

No judgement on your face of hate 

No anger when I come home late 

Your imperfections are perfect to me 

The love I hold for you is free 

You bring joy if only for a while 

Unique the way you live in style 

To lose you soon would break my heart 

But understand,  I would try to start 

you will not be able to stay too long 

Yet to be with you now fills my heart with song!  

you will be with me always, even when your gone 

Release

A surprise capture, release in the wild 

Fear on his face as a little child 

Into the field, through the woods 

Away he goes, like I hoped he would 

Put off the way

where the cold wind blows 

Snow covered hilltops  

Icy covered roads 

Slipped on the slate 

Metro has a crash 

The little red car 

A fix cost too much cash 

Out in the sticks  

Wondering what to do  

On the way to Kent  

for it’s there I flew 

live in a house though I owe my due 

couldn’t tell you why  

thrown to the wind 

What else could I do 

Kent the garden of England

Not sure that’s true 

at least I’m not an animal

in a Wild West Cotswold Zoo

Injustice

Impervious to the blood stained Nile 

A hypocrite walking a mile 

arriving in his Mercedes’ Benz  

at the end of the race

puffing with egg on his face

Redundancy leaves her without a home 

interest through the roof 

Politicians putting on a brave face 

while rubbing hands together  

saving cash on higher rates 

What a disgrace!  

The old gentleman dies from a weakened immune 

his friends felt he died too soon 

Well no one cares in that place 

Treating the elderly without any grace 

taking all the beds!  

The homelessness are not fed 

Pleased to be sleeping in a tent or a shed 

Still, I’m still okay Jack 

got the sack on my back  

On my own and on the right track  

reaching the tip of a mountain swoon 

Jumping from way up in the sky  

Hoping to fly into the clouds up high 

Not even that, at the end I would  

Know I’m free from this life…if be..I could

A.C. Milan

Go right, drift from the left 

feet crossed, warning from the ref 

flick & turn, move upfield 

One more challenge, his fate is sealed 

slide in measure, ode to pleasure 

towards the corner, offsets the pressure 

goalie dived backward down 

then climbs up with a wayward frown 

upset pride, feeling like a clown 

the losing side are 1-0 down 

production falls, towards the ground

 in this peculiarly sad Italian town

"Saremo una squadra di diavoli. I nostri colori saranno il rosso come il fuoco e il nero come la paura che incuteremo agli avversari."

— 1899, Herbert Kilpin^[17][18]