Proud of Colour

The day I got a crow bar in my face

Is the day I felt a real disgrace

looking straight at fifteen Skinheads

standing in my drape coat red

Aldgate East Station the chosen sight

surrounded by foe and ready to fight

shouting “come on you scum”

full of mouth, ready for fun

turned to friends behind but there were none

they all ran off and left me as one

running at the thugs, what a mug

tooled up ‘meathead’ done his job

whacked me hard the sluggish slob

broken jaw for a loud mouthed yob

 

See not!

The highest mountain is ravenous for thirst 

Clambering warm air above the sky

Melting snow upon its peak,

Mumbling clouds stretch out to speak

Wrath of god in thunderstorm 

Swords  of lightning in artistic form

Crying tears as water falls

Millenniums of years grand and tall

Lands of beauty, spendourously lush

Stood silent forever, never in a rush

Rivers flow to lakes out to the sea

Where in the universe would we rather be

The lords greatest moment is moulding mankind

A gift of sight blessed, why are we so blind?

 

When ?

When is the time to be caring ?

When is the time to be kind ?

When is the time to be honest ?

When is the time to love ?

When is the time to stop caring ?

When is the time to stop being Kind ?

When is the time to lie ?

When is the time to stop loving ?

When is the time to be hellacious ?

when is it time to be ferocious ?

When is it time to be controlling ?

When is it time to condemn ?

When is it time to relax and let go ?

All the time, sometimes, never!…will we know ?

Red and White Straw-Sail

Perspiring thy ugliness, sweat on the brow

from good to evil, not knowing how

perfidious in growth with torture around

Machiavellian severity, death will be found.

Slice through veins, cut with will

destroy thy enemy from a view on a hill

run as one, swords in hand

axes ready, a raid on this land

Spoils of thunder, wrath of Thor

bid ye’ no rest from the gods of war

water reigns over mountainside

cloud thee over the mist o’er bride

Gently settle, onwards flow

into lands cleansed with snow

red stained fields, towns of fire

one must recover with rested respire

Graceful gods, a thousand years pass

the only raid now is crystal in glass 

countries of peace or so they say

until the judged devil doth have his day

The futuristic person will feign dismay

at that time humanity will pass away

comfort in wealth, oh have the last shout

watch out, watch out ‘there’s a Humphrey about!’.

No gas to bake a cake

Glance at the phone, contacting no-one,

letters unopened, see bygones be gone, 

lie in a darkened room, 

while not wanting to venture outside, 

destruction all around, the death of a young bride

Loving, hugging, kissing, adventuring, 

a new beginning, a fresh breeze in life, 

taking a long honeymoon in a place afar from Fife, 

not long before it sours for the gullible young wife.

A debt to the national need, 

gambling addiction within the seed, 

the house is riddled with pests, 

cockroaches desperate to feed, 

woodworm will eat at the skirting, 

damp rots the eves, 

happiness never meant to last, 

it withered away fast.

dare not to open the door, 

unsure of the final score

wolves bang with sticks, 

men with tractors and picks, 

fear of facing the rain, 

he’d taken the gun and run, 

too surreal for what started as fun, 

unforeseeing what was to come, 

hidden within her shadow, 

the only reminder left is ache, 

no gas to bake a cake. 

Rise of the New Dawn

The whirly wonder of a wintery storm

Ancient weather to devour the norm

Rotating hurricane, ice cold snow

Trudging on with no place to go

Close to spring, a flower on show

A bud of yellow says “here I go”

Many more are sprouting now

A new year begins, little kittens meow

Beginning life all over the land 

Cows in shed, lambs that were planned

Rising of the sun, warming old England

Wearing nice clothes with our new wedding theme

Washing the windows, a pretty spring clean

Looking more beautiful than I’ve ever seen.                     

        

           ————————————

‘Luscious landscapes picturesquely serene’

💌

I will not whimper away from love

even if they; are afraid to show it

I will not cower away from caring

although they; may despise it

I am an emotional man

doing the most I can to be as strong as I am

so judge me or accept me for showing

I will not change; I am as, open as a book

walk away and laugh,  my world may be shook

do not glance back to take another look. 

At my end

When the end has come

I will be forgotten  

One or two will mourn for a week

others may relinquish speech

most will not cry when I die

Continue on without wondering; why? 

So, forget my life without a stutter

don’t think of me, I do not matter

only one thing, I have to ask

a very small useful task

it will not help me but can help you

open the New Testament, a page will do

read a small verse of scripture song

pray the Lord’s Prayer & follow on.

Vikings

A Viking with an axe cutting through skin

killing for gold, even one’s own kin

invading lands in shallow low boats

sails of red and white from the blood of goats

strength in their core, vicious in war

excited by death from blood and gore

one may be asked ‘what did you come here for ?’

he answers -

- “to plough your fields and take some more”.

Swim an ocean

A wonderful human with so much to give

friendly face finds a reason to live

helpful and kind to the very core

inspirational gift, what others go there for

if they were half of what she is today

they’d sleep through winter 

then wake up in may

Dream

I dream of a Tesla; diamonds and pearls

holding of love with clothing furled

to be a king with the power to kill

or choose to live without the thrill

I dream of a day when slaves are free

live in a hut cut from a tree

thousands in a hive as little bees

not a worry so long as we are free

don’t be afraid of the knock at your door 

open it up to give them what for

don’t get up to be a bore

Jump out of bed, shout out …….. I’m fucked! 

to the Core! 

Deep in Passion

Thy heart festers for her to be my bride

A testimony of thou sour lives in one

We devour everything that ist’ good

Rain doth not wash away the stench

There is beauty in the tears of love

Wicked are the ways to steal a mind

Crying tears from a bleeding heart

Gathering imagination in a crystal vase

Beautifully capturing all in a maze - meant

Keeping the love that has not been sent

A soft prayer to answer secret dreams

Let us entwine in a passionate embrace

surely we need not open anymore wine

Can we not lay together to feast? one more time.

The Discovery

The need to forgive the child in me, cast

trouble and blame, the reason I was last

my struggle with Kak-handed ways

non-ability to learn and play; in a band

feckless or thick, people would say

unable to join in a team to play

thought; no one wanted me in, every day 

low in esteem, useless though keen

never realising what could have been

having inner intellect 

openly stupid; what others saw

under a cloud of dark misty swirls of war

no one likes a boy; quiet and meak 

softly gentle, who appears very weak

yet, an internal strength, that could not speak

wishing to be dead for so many years

a thousand hurts with too many tears

yet, many reasons to happily cheer

children for one, grandchildren too

a wish to unravel a mind to chew

concoction of worries in a blended stew

it’s a little too late, discovery is found

a confident twit, whose mind is not sound

have to keep going with feet on the ground

cannot promise much but to be around

until a cure comes late, yet somehow found