Short day, longest love
Short love long on time
How can we be above
Tropic of Capricorn
Hold tight to the northern light
Spirit fire burning in the night
Hold tight to the good times coming
Hold tight, hold tight, hold tight
Shortest day, longest love
Don't leave us now Sun in glove
Swapped somehow for the silver torch
That shines on now on the diver porch
Hold tight young moon to the earth
Hold tight to your sling around mother's birth
Shortest day, longest love
The winter comes straddling a white mare
Like the tides that rise on the spring bore
Hold tight, the river to the floor
Running in rails rolling in flood
Hold tight to your pails, to your earth's blood
Tuesday 31 December 2019
The shortest day
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Story of the man in the middle
It came upon the moral code
Of what should be done
To abode
The right from wrong
The leftist song
In the hymn book of the south
No reason in the whole wide world
A million in gold, diamonds and pearls
Just feel the plight of the poor child
Oh what has happened to me?
The one who is left on the shore
The one who kept walking
Through the open door
When he should have stepped up
To settle the score
Oh what has happened to me?!
You are so poor in spirit young man
Don't you understand the plan
There is nothing left
But to kill it and you can
Oh what has happened to me?
Its the story of the man in the middle
Who couldn't decide on the night
It was left till the morning
But he ignored the warning
Of the brewing of some kind of fight
Oh what has happened to me Mama
Am I fair, am I a man in the right?
I used to bring my judgement to bear
So easy, now its like flying a kite
I keep it up in the air
By tacking in the wind
I keep it flying by changing my mind
And each time I think I might lose then I win
All through tactics of a similar kind
Oh what has happened to me mama?
Am I the son that you would have liked?
Have I done you proud
Or stood out from the crowd?
Am I one alone or just a clone of the paths well hiked?
I've been round and round like in a circle
Like a wheel turning with light
But am I a Catherine wheel on fire
Or a ring of desire
That burns a border for what I reach for
Each night?
Oh what has become of me Mama?
Can you bring my ship back around?
Can you steer me to the clear horizon
Where no more clouds are to be found ?
Of what should be done
To abode
The right from wrong
The leftist song
In the hymn book of the south
No reason in the whole wide world
A million in gold, diamonds and pearls
Just feel the plight of the poor child
Oh what has happened to me?
The one who is left on the shore
The one who kept walking
Through the open door
When he should have stepped up
To settle the score
Oh what has happened to me?!
You are so poor in spirit young man
Don't you understand the plan
There is nothing left
But to kill it and you can
Oh what has happened to me?
Its the story of the man in the middle
Who couldn't decide on the night
It was left till the morning
But he ignored the warning
Of the brewing of some kind of fight
Oh what has happened to me Mama
Am I fair, am I a man in the right?
I used to bring my judgement to bear
So easy, now its like flying a kite
I keep it up in the air
By tacking in the wind
I keep it flying by changing my mind
And each time I think I might lose then I win
All through tactics of a similar kind
Oh what has happened to me mama?
Am I the son that you would have liked?
Have I done you proud
Or stood out from the crowd?
Am I one alone or just a clone of the paths well hiked?
I've been round and round like in a circle
Like a wheel turning with light
But am I a Catherine wheel on fire
Or a ring of desire
That burns a border for what I reach for
Each night?
Oh what has become of me Mama?
Can you bring my ship back around?
Can you steer me to the clear horizon
Where no more clouds are to be found ?
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
The closest thing
The needle in the thread
The thought of someone dead
That was the closest thing
The fire engine red
The burning book unread
That was the closest thing
The lives that we once led
Like kites in a sky of lead
That was the closest thing
The knowledge of things unsaid
That was the closest thing
The arms of a thousand wed
That was the closest thing
The prayers from the book that shed
Like the skin of the snake that bled
That was the closest thing
The forks in the road we sped
That was the closest thing
The way in which you bed
That was the closest thing
All the senses in my head
That was the closest thing
They made me feel fed
That was the closest thing
By the love of a woman wed
To the ideas of undying instead
That was the closest thing
The thought of someone dead
That was the closest thing
The fire engine red
The burning book unread
That was the closest thing
The lives that we once led
Like kites in a sky of lead
That was the closest thing
The knowledge of things unsaid
That was the closest thing
The arms of a thousand wed
That was the closest thing
The prayers from the book that shed
Like the skin of the snake that bled
That was the closest thing
The forks in the road we sped
That was the closest thing
The way in which you bed
That was the closest thing
All the senses in my head
That was the closest thing
They made me feel fed
That was the closest thing
By the love of a woman wed
To the ideas of undying instead
That was the closest thing
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Sunday 29 December 2019
Tell me what would you like to know about me?
Interrogate me, track or trace me
Unknit the stitch that make me tick?
Trick or pick me apart at the seams?
This is what it takes to discover my dreams
Tell me what do want to know about me?
Let's get down to the brass tacks
The bare bones of the facts
Let's knock out all the lies and schemes
The truth is now known
Lets reveal what it means
There are no two homes for the son
Of the damned
One a castle of stone
The other a river dam
Beavering away at a busy type writer
But who shines the torch of truth
Will shine it the brighter
In the darkest spots, in the corners of the room
Where fairies scare at the discovered doom
But what if there, it is only bare
Then whom, would share their stories
Of the dark side of the moon?
Tell me what do you want to know about me?
I am opposed to narcissism
Yet find I've lied, as there is a crack in the mirror
And I can't stand the imperfection
There is hyprocrisy in my own reflection
And recrimination in the look
One gives to the other, eye to eye
Caught on the same hook
Two fishermen casting, in the stream of consciousness
But what neither wants to discover
Is the bait the other
Used to catch the fish
It is his own business
Now he has walked away to live a separate life,
While others in the ether
Have called to marry a wife
Why can't the two be reconciled there need
Be no more switch of loom
Carry on the same silver thread
All the way round the moon
Unknit the stitch that make me tick?
Trick or pick me apart at the seams?
This is what it takes to discover my dreams
Tell me what do want to know about me?
Let's get down to the brass tacks
The bare bones of the facts
Let's knock out all the lies and schemes
The truth is now known
Lets reveal what it means
There are no two homes for the son
Of the damned
One a castle of stone
The other a river dam
Beavering away at a busy type writer
But who shines the torch of truth
Will shine it the brighter
In the darkest spots, in the corners of the room
Where fairies scare at the discovered doom
But what if there, it is only bare
Then whom, would share their stories
Of the dark side of the moon?
Tell me what do you want to know about me?
I am opposed to narcissism
Yet find I've lied, as there is a crack in the mirror
And I can't stand the imperfection
There is hyprocrisy in my own reflection
And recrimination in the look
One gives to the other, eye to eye
Caught on the same hook
Two fishermen casting, in the stream of consciousness
But what neither wants to discover
Is the bait the other
Used to catch the fish
It is his own business
Now he has walked away to live a separate life,
While others in the ether
Have called to marry a wife
Why can't the two be reconciled there need
Be no more switch of loom
Carry on the same silver thread
All the way round the moon
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
We need to talk this over
We need to blow off the stream
The pressure has been rising in here
If you know what I mean
There are kilts and skins
And silks hanging in the air
There are souks with washed out faces draped in the air
you know we need to talk this over
Before the bats get in your hair
There a robbers in the road at night
And rollers on the sea
And dragons patrol the cliffs in flight
Around the head land of destiny
But our ship is sailing through the fog
And we can hardly see
Now we need to talk this over
Before we crash in to the lee
I've seen you in the post room
Mailing all kind of letters
Off to your ancestors
Whom you think are your betters
But it ain't like they've been looking out for you
No not in these stormy weathers
Now we need to talk this over because
We're both at the end of our tethers
The pressure has been rising in here
If you know what I mean
There are kilts and skins
And silks hanging in the air
There are souks with washed out faces draped in the air
you know we need to talk this over
Before the bats get in your hair
There a robbers in the road at night
And rollers on the sea
And dragons patrol the cliffs in flight
Around the head land of destiny
But our ship is sailing through the fog
And we can hardly see
Now we need to talk this over
Before we crash in to the lee
I've seen you in the post room
Mailing all kind of letters
Off to your ancestors
Whom you think are your betters
But it ain't like they've been looking out for you
No not in these stormy weathers
Now we need to talk this over because
We're both at the end of our tethers
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Saturday 28 December 2019
2020
I went to the opticians the other day and said I want my eyesight to improve,he said come back next year, it will be 2020
Looking back its been a hard year and many things I could have done better, but that is just with the benefit of 2020 hindsight
If I see you next, it will be with the benefit of hindsight. Looking ahead it is important to have 2020 vision.
With the benefit of Hindsight the year 2020 could have gone more smoothly. With a 2020 vision they would have done.
2020 year of the Eye
The year 2020 a blindspot for hindsight
Looking back its been a hard year and many things I could have done better, but that is just with the benefit of 2020 hindsight
If I see you next, it will be with the benefit of hindsight. Looking ahead it is important to have 2020 vision.
With the benefit of Hindsight the year 2020 could have gone more smoothly. With a 2020 vision they would have done.
2020 year of the Eye
The year 2020 a blindspot for hindsight
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Your words mean nothing at all
Well the house where we did live
Starts to feel too small
And the home that you give
Its walls are about to fall
Because words don't mean nothing at all
And the wind blows
Through your windows
And the holes in your shawl
And it leaves you a cold shoulder
And a hole in your soul
And rumours say everyone knows
Your words mean nothing at all
Well the sand stays in the shadows
Of the leaves that fall
Casualities of the cold days
When your wind does call
And they hear it on the radios
And across the cities that sprawl
Well your words are like skyways
They don't mean nothing at all
If you had one thing worth to say
You should have said it then
But the words they, just didn't come did they?
No matter how or when
Just lines that you wrote in the letters
That like the leaves that fall
I should have known better
Your words don't mean nothing at all
Starts to feel too small
And the home that you give
Its walls are about to fall
Because words don't mean nothing at all
And the wind blows
Through your windows
And the holes in your shawl
And it leaves you a cold shoulder
And a hole in your soul
And rumours say everyone knows
Your words mean nothing at all
Well the sand stays in the shadows
Of the leaves that fall
Casualities of the cold days
When your wind does call
And they hear it on the radios
And across the cities that sprawl
Well your words are like skyways
They don't mean nothing at all
If you had one thing worth to say
You should have said it then
But the words they, just didn't come did they?
No matter how or when
Just lines that you wrote in the letters
That like the leaves that fall
I should have known better
Your words don't mean nothing at all
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Why do we always want what we don't have?
She took me to the mountain
And showed me the sea
And I got in a boat and
I thought now I'm free
But suddenly the sinking
Got me swimming for the shore
Oh tell me why when we have enough
Do we always want some more?
She locked me in her loving arms
But I kept searching for the key
Just to break the spell of charms
That had enchanted me
Well why can't I steer clear of harm
And why still fight for liberty?
Tell me why when there are no alarms
Does drama always find me?
Well I walked along the winding road
To a town of poverty
Where many people armed themselves
With ignorance and greed
Just to protect the rich from
What they didn't want to see
While the poor go blind and bearfoot
Begging for charity
Tell me why when we can't bear ourselves
Don't we yet consider all men equal and free
Its the wanting in the soul
Its the need and greed
Its the empty heart with love to sell
That's not full enough to bleed
And they can kill themselves
Before all the slaves are freed
Because its always wanting more and more
Of what we don't need
And showed me the sea
And I got in a boat and
I thought now I'm free
But suddenly the sinking
Got me swimming for the shore
Oh tell me why when we have enough
Do we always want some more?
She locked me in her loving arms
But I kept searching for the key
Just to break the spell of charms
That had enchanted me
Well why can't I steer clear of harm
And why still fight for liberty?
Tell me why when there are no alarms
Does drama always find me?
Well I walked along the winding road
To a town of poverty
Where many people armed themselves
With ignorance and greed
Just to protect the rich from
What they didn't want to see
While the poor go blind and bearfoot
Begging for charity
Tell me why when we can't bear ourselves
Don't we yet consider all men equal and free
Its the wanting in the soul
Its the need and greed
Its the empty heart with love to sell
That's not full enough to bleed
And they can kill themselves
Before all the slaves are freed
Because its always wanting more and more
Of what we don't need
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Friday 27 December 2019
I could do worse
I could do worse than try to live
I could do worse than try to steal
The heart that you don't give
Or the soul that keeps things real
I could do worse, so stop putting me down
I could do worse than lift the world
From off the shoulders of colosus
I could do worse than move the mountains
From the places of the molluscs
So if I could do worse, stop putting me down
I could do worse than write a song
About where I do belong
I could do worse than sing a hymn
About how we will begin
I could do worse, so stop putting me down
You know there is a persecutor,
Who will rob you of your pride
There is a prosecutor who will accuse you
Before you've been tried
And they will want to put your soul in jail
And throw away the key
But I could do worse, so why do you keep
Spitting on me?
I fill my cup up daily with the spirit of the lord
And you want to tip it slowly along the blade of the sword
But your words are cutting no ice
In fact they're dull and bland
There must be a paradise in which they understand
If I could do worse, why do you keep putting me down?
I could do worse than try to steal
The heart that you don't give
Or the soul that keeps things real
I could do worse, so stop putting me down
I could do worse than lift the world
From off the shoulders of colosus
I could do worse than move the mountains
From the places of the molluscs
So if I could do worse, stop putting me down
I could do worse than write a song
About where I do belong
I could do worse than sing a hymn
About how we will begin
I could do worse, so stop putting me down
You know there is a persecutor,
Who will rob you of your pride
There is a prosecutor who will accuse you
Before you've been tried
And they will want to put your soul in jail
And throw away the key
But I could do worse, so why do you keep
Spitting on me?
I fill my cup up daily with the spirit of the lord
And you want to tip it slowly along the blade of the sword
But your words are cutting no ice
In fact they're dull and bland
There must be a paradise in which they understand
If I could do worse, why do you keep putting me down?
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Winter Sun
Wintersun in my window
Winter sun, winter sun
Arise
Winter sun on the horizon
Winter sun that gets in your eyes
Winter sun like hope in a dark time
Winter sun like a wedding bell's chime
Heralding a new year of freedom
Winter Sun through the sky it does climb
Winter Sun in the news
In the factory shoes
Wintersun on hands that bleed with need
Wintersun through the land
Warming the hand
Frozen as if stuck in time
Winter sun give hope to the children
Give hope to those alone and bereft
Winter sun give life to the old ones
For whom there is nobody left
Winter sun like a white mare riding
Across the pastures of blue
Winter Sun I'll wager my last breath
That you can pull us through
Winter sun, winter sun
Arise
Winter sun on the horizon
Winter sun that gets in your eyes
Winter sun like hope in a dark time
Winter sun like a wedding bell's chime
Heralding a new year of freedom
Winter Sun through the sky it does climb
Winter Sun in the news
In the factory shoes
Wintersun on hands that bleed with need
Wintersun through the land
Warming the hand
Frozen as if stuck in time
Winter sun give hope to the children
Give hope to those alone and bereft
Winter sun give life to the old ones
For whom there is nobody left
Winter sun like a white mare riding
Across the pastures of blue
Winter Sun I'll wager my last breath
That you can pull us through
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Tuesday 24 December 2019
Close to nothing
Close to nothing
Got nothing left
Close to nothing
Hanging on the ledge
I am close to nothing
But your pledge
To be close to nothing but me
Close to nothing but a razor's edge
Close to nothing just a hair's breadth
Leave it up to me in the hour of the dawn
Close shave, too close I am shorn
Close to you, be close to me
I've got the ghost of you
That I can't see
Close to nothing but the breeze
Come bring yourself close to me
There's too much sky
So much I can't see
The how and the why
The wood from the trees
We're on the edge of forever
And for that won't you be
Close to nothing but me?
I've got too much to live for
Not enough sky
On the ladder I climb for
Until I die
The stars are so near, and yet so far
I am close to nothing
But the moon and mars
Close to nothing but your love
Close to nothing
Up here hanging on
Close to nothing
Nothing but this song
Walk with me, talk with me along
The shore
Close to nothing but you
Like never before
Our foot steps leave two trails
In the sand
Sometimes together
At others, alone we stand
Close to nothing but what we understand
One gives the other
Hand in hand
Close to nothing but infinity
Close to nothing but the wild raging sea
I'll be close to you, if you'll be close to me
Got nothing left
Close to nothing
Hanging on the ledge
I am close to nothing
But your pledge
To be close to nothing but me
Close to nothing but a razor's edge
Close to nothing just a hair's breadth
Leave it up to me in the hour of the dawn
Close shave, too close I am shorn
Close to you, be close to me
I've got the ghost of you
That I can't see
Close to nothing but the breeze
Come bring yourself close to me
There's too much sky
So much I can't see
The how and the why
The wood from the trees
We're on the edge of forever
And for that won't you be
Close to nothing but me?
I've got too much to live for
Not enough sky
On the ladder I climb for
Until I die
The stars are so near, and yet so far
I am close to nothing
But the moon and mars
Close to nothing but your love
Close to nothing
Up here hanging on
Close to nothing
Nothing but this song
Walk with me, talk with me along
The shore
Close to nothing but you
Like never before
Our foot steps leave two trails
In the sand
Sometimes together
At others, alone we stand
Close to nothing but what we understand
One gives the other
Hand in hand
Close to nothing but infinity
Close to nothing but the wild raging sea
I'll be close to you, if you'll be close to me
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Are you alright?
I heard something in the night
I heard crying in the morning
Over the pots you were stirring
But what I want to know from you is
Are you alright?
Are you alright?
When the wind begins to bite?
Are you alright, as the geese begin their flight?
Are you alright, with his words
They cut just like swords
I must prise from your arms
Your ugly plight
Oh darling, are you alright?
Are you alright?
Can the world continue tonight?
Are you alright?
I know you won't go down without a fight?
Well in the early morn, before the oaths been sworn
Can you tell me, though inspite
Honey are you alright?
I heard crying in the morning
Over the pots you were stirring
But what I want to know from you is
Are you alright?
Are you alright?
When the wind begins to bite?
Are you alright, as the geese begin their flight?
Are you alright, with his words
They cut just like swords
I must prise from your arms
Your ugly plight
Oh darling, are you alright?
Are you alright?
Can the world continue tonight?
Are you alright?
I know you won't go down without a fight?
Well in the early morn, before the oaths been sworn
Can you tell me, though inspite
Honey are you alright?
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Monday 23 December 2019
Spend time with me
Spend time with me
For the sake of the past
Spend time with me for our words will never last
Spend time with me
Spend time with me
Spend time with me
Before it is too late
Before they shut the gate
Spend time with me
Outside the garden wall
Watch as the sands do fall
And blow free
Can't you spend some time with me
Spend time with me
For our letters of the past
As the rain falls down my window pane
Like tears of frozen glass
Spend time with me in this world
And girl you know
We'll have a blast
Spend time with me
We'll go walking on the moon
Spend time with me
Through these days of doom
When everything's forgotten
But I can remember it so soon
Spend time with me
Spend time with me
We'll see what we shall see
Spend time with me
And what will be, will be
And if you haven't got used to me
By some future date and time
Well I can be forgiven for asking
For asking is no crime
So spend some of your time with me
For the sake of the past
Spend time with me for our words will never last
Spend time with me
Spend time with me
Spend time with me
Before it is too late
Before they shut the gate
Spend time with me
Outside the garden wall
Watch as the sands do fall
And blow free
Can't you spend some time with me
Spend time with me
For our letters of the past
As the rain falls down my window pane
Like tears of frozen glass
Spend time with me in this world
And girl you know
We'll have a blast
Spend time with me
We'll go walking on the moon
Spend time with me
Through these days of doom
When everything's forgotten
But I can remember it so soon
Spend time with me
Spend time with me
We'll see what we shall see
Spend time with me
And what will be, will be
And if you haven't got used to me
By some future date and time
Well I can be forgiven for asking
For asking is no crime
So spend some of your time with me
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Sunday 22 December 2019
Laugh Kookaburra laugh
I can see the shadows on the wall
But I don't know how to make that funny
I can see the rain drops fall
But I don't know how to make that funny
I can see the winter hall, the creatures crawl
The peasants shawl
But I don't know how to make that funny at all
I can see the window ledge
But I don't know how to make that funny
I can see the children's sledge
But I don't know how to make that funny
I can make the strongest pledge
But I don't know how to make that funny
No I don't know how to make that funny at all
Somethings are so serious
They cannot be fooled
And some people are so humourous
They simply cannot be schooled
What is there in the winter pledge
That makes good bonfire fuel?
Perhaps just our vanities
But I don't find them funny at all
It is sad not to see the funny side of life
Sadder still to laugh at it all
There must be some value in a bride becoming a wife
The must be evolution from a clown to a fool
There must be restraint or else the unexpected is too cruel
But balance that and regulate with surprise
That is the comedian's tool
To be funny, I must put on my disguise
I must not write from the heart, I must write
To trick, treat and rule
Because the jester has his cane,
That he twizzles in his hand
And he can command with his rod
The vagaries of man
Or he can highlight to them
Their very foolish natures, their ineptitudes
Their solitudes, their cruelties in God's pastures
What he misses in pathos, he makes up for
In buckets of bathos,
And it is in these anti-climaxes that he reveals
His true psychosis
That neurotic need to be loved not for who he is
But for what he wants to be
Always the illusionist
The comedian up on stage is more a kind of magician
And he puts his brothers into the shade
When he refuses their admission
For there is a kind of magic circle
A kind of comedy ring
And when you are in that arena
The jester is always the king
But I see nothing funny in that kind of play
Always smoke and mirrors
No daggers nothing to slay
Too many ghosts already
Are rising from their grave
It is a black comedy
And we are the comedian's slave
I sit and laugh like a kookaburra
But I do not know at what
Just the audience in the canopy
Laughing at a pale blue spot
While all around me smoke
Rises to the skies
The Bush fires have a monopoly
Can't be quenched by the tears in my eyes
I am just another Kookaburra
Laughing in an old gum tree
Wise and old as a salamander
Shedding another skin to break free
But I don't know how to make that funny
I can see the rain drops fall
But I don't know how to make that funny
I can see the winter hall, the creatures crawl
The peasants shawl
But I don't know how to make that funny at all
I can see the window ledge
But I don't know how to make that funny
I can see the children's sledge
But I don't know how to make that funny
I can make the strongest pledge
But I don't know how to make that funny
No I don't know how to make that funny at all
Somethings are so serious
They cannot be fooled
And some people are so humourous
They simply cannot be schooled
What is there in the winter pledge
That makes good bonfire fuel?
Perhaps just our vanities
But I don't find them funny at all
It is sad not to see the funny side of life
Sadder still to laugh at it all
There must be some value in a bride becoming a wife
The must be evolution from a clown to a fool
There must be restraint or else the unexpected is too cruel
But balance that and regulate with surprise
That is the comedian's tool
To be funny, I must put on my disguise
I must not write from the heart, I must write
To trick, treat and rule
Because the jester has his cane,
That he twizzles in his hand
And he can command with his rod
The vagaries of man
Or he can highlight to them
Their very foolish natures, their ineptitudes
Their solitudes, their cruelties in God's pastures
What he misses in pathos, he makes up for
In buckets of bathos,
And it is in these anti-climaxes that he reveals
His true psychosis
That neurotic need to be loved not for who he is
But for what he wants to be
Always the illusionist
The comedian up on stage is more a kind of magician
And he puts his brothers into the shade
When he refuses their admission
For there is a kind of magic circle
A kind of comedy ring
And when you are in that arena
The jester is always the king
But I see nothing funny in that kind of play
Always smoke and mirrors
No daggers nothing to slay
Too many ghosts already
Are rising from their grave
It is a black comedy
And we are the comedian's slave
I sit and laugh like a kookaburra
But I do not know at what
Just the audience in the canopy
Laughing at a pale blue spot
While all around me smoke
Rises to the skies
The Bush fires have a monopoly
Can't be quenched by the tears in my eyes
I am just another Kookaburra
Laughing in an old gum tree
Wise and old as a salamander
Shedding another skin to break free
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
I'll begin with you
Well you find when its all shaken down
There is just yourself
Left in the town
And only ghosts rest their heads in your arms
And I wouldn't mind but if
I could have one wish
I would wish it all back to where it began
Oh, what to begin again
Begin as we mean to carry on
Begin with me
And together we’ll continue
Begin with me, I’ll begin with you
Starting is the best place to do
The things you always wanted to in the end
But you get tied down
You get tied up
In the thorny crown or the broken cup
Feeding the weary people from your soul
You get knocked down
Or you get blown up
By nobody around but everybody is sus
Pected of giving false information
Begin with me, I’ll begin with you
We’re on square one
Where are we going to?
Its up to us both
When one comes down to two
Darling if you begin with meI'll begin with you
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Better late than never
I walked on past
When you said the good don't last
But what's rotten must fade away
Well I never asked, and you don't say
So its better late than never anyway
The strange weather warning
In the sky tonight
Clouds are rolling like an ocean
Way out of sight
And by the morning, these things will
Be alright
Its better late than never anyway
They held up the flag of liberty
Like a white flag of surrender
Then someone took their standard from them
And buried it in forever
They said we'll get there sooner or later
Its better late than never anyway
They came and took my soul
And buried it in the north pole
But the ice caps melt
Let it out and I felt
Relieved
But when it was warming up no one
Believed, what their eyes perceived
Still now they see, feel and hear what
Mother nature says
Its better late than never anyway
When you said the good don't last
But what's rotten must fade away
Well I never asked, and you don't say
So its better late than never anyway
The strange weather warning
In the sky tonight
Clouds are rolling like an ocean
Way out of sight
And by the morning, these things will
Be alright
Its better late than never anyway
They held up the flag of liberty
Like a white flag of surrender
Then someone took their standard from them
And buried it in forever
They said we'll get there sooner or later
Its better late than never anyway
They came and took my soul
And buried it in the north pole
But the ice caps melt
Let it out and I felt
Relieved
But when it was warming up no one
Believed, what their eyes perceived
Still now they see, feel and hear what
Mother nature says
Its better late than never anyway
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Saturday 21 December 2019
No one else is waiting here
Look around you are all alone
The ship has left you the beach to comb
But you can't find hide nor hair of them
The precious stone or priceless gem
Stand up right and face your fear
No one else is waiting here
The dogs of war have bayed at last
Another shots poured in your glass
But ask at the bar for the movie star
They'll give you a stare like you are
The only one there without eyes or ears
For no one else is waiting here
You walk in the city of the crusted queens
Only they can tell you the things they've seen
The castle spires and the Windows gleam
But it's always like someone else's dream
Look around people look back at you queer
You are the only one waiting here
Everyone's in a rush to be somewhere it's clear
From the city crush to the countryside peer
They deal you in but you have to be quick
Or you'll be knocked out with the yard stick
No one ever stands in line to cheer
You are the only one waiting around here
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Friday 20 December 2019
River alone
I live by the river
And she takes away my dreams
I live by the river
She ties up my seams
Well we all need a river
Sometimes to take us
Through our reams
It has been so long since
I touched her skin
It has been so long since
I don't know where to begin
It has been so long
And I fall between
Two chairs and the air
And nobody wins
Well I came to the river
With its bed of stones
I came to the river with
Its bed of stones
And who knew a quiver
Or a man could atone
When he knelt by the river
And lay down his bones
Just he and the river alone
And she takes away my dreams
I live by the river
She ties up my seams
Well we all need a river
Sometimes to take us
Through our reams
It has been so long since
I touched her skin
It has been so long since
I don't know where to begin
It has been so long
And I fall between
Two chairs and the air
And nobody wins
Well I came to the river
With its bed of stones
I came to the river with
Its bed of stones
And who knew a quiver
Or a man could atone
When he knelt by the river
And lay down his bones
Just he and the river alone
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
On the hill
She lives on the hill
Her father's gonna kill
Me
She lives on the hill
And her father's gonna kill
Me
Its no bloody thrill
But I'd die to see her
Through good times and the ill
I'm going to see her
The times I hold my glass
Up to the heavens
I see with a crystal glance
Everyone one of them chilling
Like pieces of ice
Hanging in a cave ceiling
When I look up to the stars
I know somebody is watching
We are so young
They are are so old
We are so young
and
They are so old
They are mysteries and histories
And stories yet untold
Because we are so young
And they are so old
I came dow to the river
And listened to the things
She told
I came down to the river
And listened to the things she told
I came down to the river and listened to
The things she told
She said you are so young and
I am so old
Her father's gonna kill
Me
She lives on the hill
And her father's gonna kill
Me
Its no bloody thrill
But I'd die to see her
Through good times and the ill
I'm going to see her
The times I hold my glass
Up to the heavens
I see with a crystal glance
Everyone one of them chilling
Like pieces of ice
Hanging in a cave ceiling
When I look up to the stars
I know somebody is watching
We are so young
They are are so old
We are so young
and
They are so old
They are mysteries and histories
And stories yet untold
Because we are so young
And they are so old
I came dow to the river
And listened to the things
She told
I came down to the river
And listened to the things she told
I came down to the river and listened to
The things she told
She said you are so young and
I am so old
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
The night that we thought was a day
That night was the night
The night like a day
When everything became bright
And I could say What I wanted
To say
That clear moon
Like a sun on the river it lay
That song that we sung
The night that we thought was a day
Every shadow that moved
In the garden
Like children at play
Every bird in the tree
Was a little more happy
That night that we thought was a day
Even streams through the meadow
Did flow hard
In that cardinal way
Like a bullet through the heart
It did turned over its card
On the night that we thought was a day
The night like a day
When everything became bright
And I could say What I wanted
To say
That clear moon
Like a sun on the river it lay
That song that we sung
The night that we thought was a day
Every shadow that moved
In the garden
Like children at play
Every bird in the tree
Was a little more happy
That night that we thought was a day
Even streams through the meadow
Did flow hard
In that cardinal way
Like a bullet through the heart
It did turned over its card
On the night that we thought was a day
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Look what the cat dragged in
You come here looking like that
With your head a square, and your hair not flat
Just look, listen, purr at that
Look what the cat dragged in
Oh pussy cat purr in the dark garden air
Walking about with that 50 yard stare
Eyes like yellow diamonds twinkling bright
Calling out for a taxi to take you through the night
Look what the cat dragged in
You stalk the streets with your pussy cat airs
Gracing the pavements with your hippy flares
Tucked under your arm
There's a broadsheet there
Exclaiming the charm of your male heirs
Look what the cat dragged in
Dog like a lady, Cat like a tramp
Pissing on the sidewalk, turned into a vamp
Bite the necks of strangers then order a stamp
Posting off your letters to the royal ramp
And look what the cat dragged in
What do you have to dismiss about you
Your shoulder is colder, your lips turning blue
Pull in your stomach, suck in the cool air
Nothings getting older, except your grey hair
But look what the cat dragged in
Fall back in line, like tomorrows spine
Is broken on the back of today
We all cross the line, but this time it was fine
Just don't let the habit stay, check in the mirror ok?
Look what the cat dragged in
With your head a square, and your hair not flat
Just look, listen, purr at that
Look what the cat dragged in
Oh pussy cat purr in the dark garden air
Walking about with that 50 yard stare
Eyes like yellow diamonds twinkling bright
Calling out for a taxi to take you through the night
Look what the cat dragged in
You stalk the streets with your pussy cat airs
Gracing the pavements with your hippy flares
Tucked under your arm
There's a broadsheet there
Exclaiming the charm of your male heirs
Look what the cat dragged in
Dog like a lady, Cat like a tramp
Pissing on the sidewalk, turned into a vamp
Bite the necks of strangers then order a stamp
Posting off your letters to the royal ramp
And look what the cat dragged in
What do you have to dismiss about you
Your shoulder is colder, your lips turning blue
Pull in your stomach, suck in the cool air
Nothings getting older, except your grey hair
But look what the cat dragged in
Fall back in line, like tomorrows spine
Is broken on the back of today
We all cross the line, but this time it was fine
Just don't let the habit stay, check in the mirror ok?
Look what the cat dragged in
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Monday 16 December 2019
I've been longing for the girl back home
Out into the world I roam
No matter where I've been bound
I can't escape that sound
That little bell
When I'm alone
Rings all around
I've been longing for the girl back home
When I think of all the wrong turns I made
The times I left when I should have stayed
But no matter where or how, I'm returning to her now
How I've been longing for the girl back home
They say all roads lead to Rome
And the further you are apart the stronger the longing in your heart
And some nights I feel so alone
I can atone, I can atone, I can atone
How I've been longing for the girl back home
Well I've been so lonesome, longing for a woman so wholesome
In my house full of skeletons and tombes
If one catacomb could open, I'm sure the spell would be broken
But as it is this castle crypt just ain't no home
I've asked for forgiveness, for all of my sinful business
Now I'm longing for the girl back home
No matter where I've been bound
I can't escape that sound
That little bell
When I'm alone
Rings all around
I've been longing for the girl back home
When I think of all the wrong turns I made
The times I left when I should have stayed
But no matter where or how, I'm returning to her now
How I've been longing for the girl back home
They say all roads lead to Rome
And the further you are apart the stronger the longing in your heart
And some nights I feel so alone
I can atone, I can atone, I can atone
How I've been longing for the girl back home
Well I've been so lonesome, longing for a woman so wholesome
In my house full of skeletons and tombes
If one catacomb could open, I'm sure the spell would be broken
But as it is this castle crypt just ain't no home
I've asked for forgiveness, for all of my sinful business
Now I'm longing for the girl back home
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
A little too far
I went a little too far over the line
Trying to make them see my point of view
I went a little too far over the line
Honey now I think so are you
You stepped a little too far over the edge
Now you're trying to cling onto the ledge
Your gripping onto the railing
Still trying to continue your hailing
You stepped a little too far over the line
I went a little too far over the line
Just trying to define the space, between
Your heart and mine
Trying a little too hard to make dreams come true
Trying to make the grey skies blue
I went a little too far over the line
And honey now I think so are you
Trying to make them see my point of view
I went a little too far over the line
Honey now I think so are you
You stepped a little too far over the edge
Now you're trying to cling onto the ledge
Your gripping onto the railing
Still trying to continue your hailing
You stepped a little too far over the line
I went a little too far over the line
Just trying to define the space, between
Your heart and mine
Trying a little too hard to make dreams come true
Trying to make the grey skies blue
I went a little too far over the line
And honey now I think so are you
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Sunday 15 December 2019
The clown only has two faces
The faces of the clubs
Are in and out,
Like the faces of the pubs that you scout
Some faces never seem to fit the fold
Other faces too close to your breast you hold
But the clown only has two faces
One is up the other is down
Yes the clown only has two faces
With it he raises the cup
With it he breaks the crown
The faces of the spade
Are of the spaces that you made
I dug whatever plot I was told
When you called me those many names
Well I just went down in flames
Like the Zepplin in the sky waylaid
But the clown only has two faces
One is up the other is down
Yes the clown only has two faces
With it he raises the cup
With it he breaks the crown
The faces of the diamonds
I searched hard to find them
Down the mineshaft Shining
Or in the sparkling bay
But the many faces smiling
Of the chandelier diamonds
The black face suited you best that day
But the clown only has two faces
One is up the other is down
Yes the clown only has two faces
With it he raises the cup
With it he breaks the crown
The faces of the heart
Like a mirror broken apart
Showed bleeding
Showed bruising
One heart split in two
My face looks at you
My face using
Your face needing
The Face of hearts
But the clown only has two faces
One is up the other is down
Yes the clown only has two faces
With it he raises the cup
With it he breaks the crown
The face of the Ace
Is always ready
The faces of King and Queen rules the throne
But there will always be a joker to set the tone
Because the clown only has two faces
One is up, the other is down
Yes the clown only has two faces
With it he raises the cup
With it he breaks the crown
Are in and out,
Like the faces of the pubs that you scout
Some faces never seem to fit the fold
Other faces too close to your breast you hold
But the clown only has two faces
One is up the other is down
Yes the clown only has two faces
With it he raises the cup
With it he breaks the crown
The faces of the spade
Are of the spaces that you made
I dug whatever plot I was told
When you called me those many names
Well I just went down in flames
Like the Zepplin in the sky waylaid
But the clown only has two faces
One is up the other is down
Yes the clown only has two faces
With it he raises the cup
With it he breaks the crown
The faces of the diamonds
I searched hard to find them
Down the mineshaft Shining
Or in the sparkling bay
But the many faces smiling
Of the chandelier diamonds
The black face suited you best that day
But the clown only has two faces
One is up the other is down
Yes the clown only has two faces
With it he raises the cup
With it he breaks the crown
The faces of the heart
Like a mirror broken apart
Showed bleeding
Showed bruising
One heart split in two
My face looks at you
My face using
Your face needing
The Face of hearts
But the clown only has two faces
One is up the other is down
Yes the clown only has two faces
With it he raises the cup
With it he breaks the crown
The face of the Ace
Is always ready
The faces of King and Queen rules the throne
But there will always be a joker to set the tone
Because the clown only has two faces
One is up, the other is down
Yes the clown only has two faces
With it he raises the cup
With it he breaks the crown
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Wednesday 11 December 2019
Dying was the last thing I wanted to do
Well when you're dead you're dead
They can't kill you anymore
Still I wish I had had some warning
Before I opened the garage door
How was I to know about the giant anvil overhead
Hanging by a horses hair, the thinnest of threads?
Well what would you have done, I ask you
Dying was the last thing I wanted to do
It was the first thing on my mind in the morning
And I thought about it all the previous night
I could have done with some kind of warning
Would have been nice to have seen a head light
But I suppose it serves me right, walking along the railway tracks
With my ear phones plugged in, but no train in front in sight
How was I meant to know, they come from behind as well, I ask you!
Dying was the last thing I wanted to do
You know its something you can't explain
Like a bullet in your brain
Or swallowing razor blades
Why do some people do these things while seeming so sane
While on the inside they must turning crazy blue shades
I thought I'd go and see a pschotherapist
But instead I saw a psychopathic hypnotist
Who put me in a trance then proceeded to dance
Me off the nearest cliff, well I didn't see that one coming, did you?
Dying was the last thing I wanted to do
But luckily my phone still had signal so I whatsapped my old dear
She said "Talk about jumping the gun! That's just like you!"
They can't kill you anymore
Still I wish I had had some warning
Before I opened the garage door
How was I to know about the giant anvil overhead
Hanging by a horses hair, the thinnest of threads?
Well what would you have done, I ask you
Dying was the last thing I wanted to do
It was the first thing on my mind in the morning
And I thought about it all the previous night
I could have done with some kind of warning
Would have been nice to have seen a head light
But I suppose it serves me right, walking along the railway tracks
With my ear phones plugged in, but no train in front in sight
How was I meant to know, they come from behind as well, I ask you!
Dying was the last thing I wanted to do
You know its something you can't explain
Like a bullet in your brain
Or swallowing razor blades
Why do some people do these things while seeming so sane
While on the inside they must turning crazy blue shades
I thought I'd go and see a pschotherapist
But instead I saw a psychopathic hypnotist
Who put me in a trance then proceeded to dance
Me off the nearest cliff, well I didn't see that one coming, did you?
Dying was the last thing I wanted to do
I went into the undertakers to see about a coffin
It was pretty cold that day and the guy couldn’t keep from
coughin’
So, when he took himself off for a little R n R
I undertook myself to try out a coffin as like it was a sports car
So, I lay myself down inside it and folded all my limbs in
When to my surprise snap down the lid came just like a pedal bin
Well I thought if its going to happen it might as well be here
I only wish that it wasn't so sound proof and that guy could hearBut luckily my phone still had signal so I whatsapped my old dear
She said "Talk about jumping the gun! That's just like you!"
And I said: "Until my dying day, dying was the last thing I wanted to do"
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Christmas on the moon
I want to spend Christmas on the moon
Far away from
All this gloom
Give me oceans of rolling sand
Stand me upright, tell me who I am
Kick me sideways
And watch me roll
Always myways but a big dark soul
Going into shadow
Eclipsing and soon
I'll be spending Christmas on the moon
When I am up, the earth is down
Give me no chalice cup in which to drown
Its cold up here but hey women swoon
For a man who lives his days
Up on the moon
I used to wish for witches to burn
But then I read books
And learned that switches can turn
Sometimes they are in phase
And sometimes they yearn
But that's only on Saturdays
By Monday courts adjurn
I have two faces
Two sides to know
One comes when I'm full
The other when I'm low
But feed me Christmas dinner
And I'm yours although
I need some moonshine with it
Or else a worm that glows
Far away from
All this gloom
Give me oceans of rolling sand
Stand me upright, tell me who I am
Kick me sideways
And watch me roll
Always myways but a big dark soul
Going into shadow
Eclipsing and soon
I'll be spending Christmas on the moon
When I am up, the earth is down
Give me no chalice cup in which to drown
Its cold up here but hey women swoon
For a man who lives his days
Up on the moon
I used to wish for witches to burn
But then I read books
And learned that switches can turn
Sometimes they are in phase
And sometimes they yearn
But that's only on Saturdays
By Monday courts adjurn
I have two faces
Two sides to know
One comes when I'm full
The other when I'm low
But feed me Christmas dinner
And I'm yours although
I need some moonshine with it
Or else a worm that glows
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Monday 9 December 2019
Bring it back home
Don't bring it through the fog
Don't bring it through the listless trees crying
Bring it on the back of the frog
Bring it from the prince that's dying
Don't bring it on your knees
Bring it on the carpet that is flying
Don't bring it in Ash keys
Bring it in the lockets of love sighing
I saw you in the stream
With water fairies about you pining
For the river logs
That passed them by so stream-lining
Come check with me again
Bounce your cheques off Big Ben
The balance of the city is sky-lining
I've seen about a friend
In the silouhetted end
Who is crossing off his list all those whining
So four score years and ten
That is what we will have then
By the time all words are down in-lining
The writer and his pen
As the cockrel and his hen
Will walk about the farmyard rhyming
Don't bring it through the listless trees crying
Bring it on the back of the frog
Bring it from the prince that's dying
Don't bring it on your knees
Bring it on the carpet that is flying
Don't bring it in Ash keys
Bring it in the lockets of love sighing
I saw you in the stream
With water fairies about you pining
For the river logs
That passed them by so stream-lining
Come check with me again
Bounce your cheques off Big Ben
The balance of the city is sky-lining
I've seen about a friend
In the silouhetted end
Who is crossing off his list all those whining
So four score years and ten
That is what we will have then
By the time all words are down in-lining
The writer and his pen
As the cockrel and his hen
Will walk about the farmyard rhyming
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Two Truths, one lie
Somethings are true in the morning
That at night seemed lost in a haze
Like the night is meant for our lies
And the truth is only good for our days
Well I show you these things as a warning
In case you walk down or follow my ways
The night time is meant for lying
And the truth is only good for our days
I saw two shoots grow in the garden
The rain fell the sun shone its rays
But at night one shoot's new leaves did harden
And for the other it flowered in the shades
Now I ask for no excuses or pardons
But I loved the latter in more ways
For it showed its beauty in my night garden
While the other only showed its beauty in its days
I can love someone for their truths betold
But I can love them more for the lies they hold
For in each is a kind of beauty in parade
As I can love both flowers in my garden
One who lies like the lady of shade
And another who bows her head and begs my pardon
But raises it with the sun when a new day is made
That at night seemed lost in a haze
Like the night is meant for our lies
And the truth is only good for our days
Well I show you these things as a warning
In case you walk down or follow my ways
The night time is meant for lying
And the truth is only good for our days
I saw two shoots grow in the garden
The rain fell the sun shone its rays
But at night one shoot's new leaves did harden
And for the other it flowered in the shades
Now I ask for no excuses or pardons
But I loved the latter in more ways
For it showed its beauty in my night garden
While the other only showed its beauty in its days
I can love someone for their truths betold
But I can love them more for the lies they hold
For in each is a kind of beauty in parade
As I can love both flowers in my garden
One who lies like the lady of shade
And another who bows her head and begs my pardon
But raises it with the sun when a new day is made
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Never Meet Your Heroes
Never meet your heroes or at least that's what they say
On the hour that you meet them they might not save your day
It was in a pub one Tuesday, and I was yet to pay
When Nicholas Cage came in and I felt compelled to say Hey
Hey I said, Hey I know who you are!
You walk the boards, you tread the stage
You're are that famous star
Indeed I am said Cage, Cage by name
Not Cagey by nature, ready for any adventure
There's just one thing left to write on the page
But I could not say it, for I was too dazzled by fame
Star struck they say, the cat got my tongue
I was all dried up, I could not think of someone
Or something to say except, this great actor of our age
Was standing before me Nicholas Cage
Well he reached out his hand and I reached mine out too
Our palms embraced, like a joining of two
I can't say kindred spirits, but I felt my own soar
Like an Eagle's nest with an egg in it, that I wanted to adore
But the reality of the situation was hatching
And my dumb wordlessness was catching
And I just knew that soon he'd walk away
Never meet your heroes at least that's what they say
For if you do they may not be the ones to save your day
So soon the silence passed, I began to look down in my glass
It was only a thought away, why could I not have grabbed the moment
Took the bull by the horns and owned it? But alas
I let the lion out its cage, that was the day I let him get away
Now I'm no match for a cage fighter, more athletic perhaps not lighter
But stronger in a sinewy sort of way,
And he was powerfully built, like highlander in a kilt
I thought he could toss the caber clean away
So there was no use in doing with swords
What I could not do with my words
Try to fight to make him stay
And yet I'm glad that I delayed him
But unlike St George's dragon I never slayed him
For he is too much man or beast to even play
Just like a ship he passed,
Into the night of the everlast
And perhaps will never cross again my way
They say never meet your heroes in case they turn out to be zeroes
But for me Nicholas Cage still saved my day
On the hour that you meet them they might not save your day
It was in a pub one Tuesday, and I was yet to pay
When Nicholas Cage came in and I felt compelled to say Hey
Hey I said, Hey I know who you are!
You walk the boards, you tread the stage
You're are that famous star
Indeed I am said Cage, Cage by name
Not Cagey by nature, ready for any adventure
There's just one thing left to write on the page
But I could not say it, for I was too dazzled by fame
Star struck they say, the cat got my tongue
I was all dried up, I could not think of someone
Or something to say except, this great actor of our age
Was standing before me Nicholas Cage
Well he reached out his hand and I reached mine out too
Our palms embraced, like a joining of two
I can't say kindred spirits, but I felt my own soar
Like an Eagle's nest with an egg in it, that I wanted to adore
But the reality of the situation was hatching
And my dumb wordlessness was catching
And I just knew that soon he'd walk away
Never meet your heroes at least that's what they say
For if you do they may not be the ones to save your day
So soon the silence passed, I began to look down in my glass
It was only a thought away, why could I not have grabbed the moment
Took the bull by the horns and owned it? But alas
I let the lion out its cage, that was the day I let him get away
Now I'm no match for a cage fighter, more athletic perhaps not lighter
But stronger in a sinewy sort of way,
And he was powerfully built, like highlander in a kilt
I thought he could toss the caber clean away
So there was no use in doing with swords
What I could not do with my words
Try to fight to make him stay
And yet I'm glad that I delayed him
But unlike St George's dragon I never slayed him
For he is too much man or beast to even play
Just like a ship he passed,
Into the night of the everlast
And perhaps will never cross again my way
They say never meet your heroes in case they turn out to be zeroes
But for me Nicholas Cage still saved my day
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Sunday 8 December 2019
Nobody ever wins that war
Well they say that time kills
And it is about time
There seems no point in waiting anymore
When the enemy is on the hills
And the bells begin to chime
Nobody ever wins that war
You can walk away today
To fight again tomorrow
You can even get your own back
And even the score
But to battle on this way
Will bring you only sorrow
Nobody ever wins that war
I was walking out one hour
About the time of noon
And the sun was riding high like law
But the only bounty in my power
Was to put a noose around the moon
Which I pulled down for you
But you pushed it back again
Because it just caused us too much pain
Nobody ever wins that war
And it is about time
There seems no point in waiting anymore
When the enemy is on the hills
And the bells begin to chime
Nobody ever wins that war
You can walk away today
To fight again tomorrow
You can even get your own back
And even the score
But to battle on this way
Will bring you only sorrow
Nobody ever wins that war
I was walking out one hour
About the time of noon
And the sun was riding high like law
But the only bounty in my power
Was to put a noose around the moon
Which I pulled down for you
But you pushed it back again
Because it just caused us too much pain
Nobody ever wins that war
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
The tree of love
I am just a leaf
Hanging on the tree of love
I am just a leaf
Hanging on the tree of love
I am just a leaf
Hanging on the tree of love
And one day I'm gonna fall down
She is just a branch
Growing on the tree of love
She is just a branch
Growing on the tree of love
She is just a branch
Growing on the tree of love
And one day she's gonna fall down
Well the apples and the fruit are
Hooked on the tree of love
The Fruit and the seeds are
Hooked on the tree of love
The fruit and the seeds are
Hooked on the tree of love
And one day they're gonna fall down
Now the wind blows roughly
All through the tree of love
The wind blows so roughly
All through the tree of love
The wind it blows so softly
All through the tree of love
And one day the bough will have enough
Now the baby it is crying
Up high in the tree of love
The baby it is crying
Up high in the tree of love
The baby it cries softly
High in the tree of love
And one day the bough is gonna break
Now we all are apples
Hanging in the bough
We all are apples
Hanging on the bough
We all are apples
Hanging on the bough
And one day we're gonna fall out of love
Hanging on the tree of love
I am just a leaf
Hanging on the tree of love
I am just a leaf
Hanging on the tree of love
And one day I'm gonna fall down
She is just a branch
Growing on the tree of love
She is just a branch
Growing on the tree of love
She is just a branch
Growing on the tree of love
And one day she's gonna fall down
Well the apples and the fruit are
Hooked on the tree of love
The Fruit and the seeds are
Hooked on the tree of love
The fruit and the seeds are
Hooked on the tree of love
And one day they're gonna fall down
Now the wind blows roughly
All through the tree of love
The wind blows so roughly
All through the tree of love
The wind it blows so softly
All through the tree of love
And one day the bough will have enough
Now the baby it is crying
Up high in the tree of love
The baby it is crying
Up high in the tree of love
The baby it cries softly
High in the tree of love
And one day the bough is gonna break
Now we all are apples
Hanging in the bough
We all are apples
Hanging on the bough
We all are apples
Hanging on the bough
And one day we're gonna fall out of love
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
The Hurricane
What can I do for you
Tell me
How Blue are your mountains?
How Blue are your shoes?
The sea scolds me roughly
For forgetting about you
Tell me what can I do for you?
The hurricane is insane
Its all the same to me
Thoughts and words
Whistle through my brain
But I just want to be free
I only want to be free
The anarchist with the ball and chain
Wants to tie down democracy
The Monarchist with the crown and cane
Is not a dint on me
I've got trouble on my brain
When the bubble bursts you'll see
I just want to break free
I only want to be free
The terrorist on his perch
The isolationist in me
Sitting on his desert island
Planning on planting a tree
The archivist, the archaeologist
Are all digging up artifacts of ancient history
But there's no use in getting upset
I only want to be free
Of course the hurricane is insane
Of course the wild wind blows
Of course the palms on the beach sway
But for how much longer who knows?
The black raven crows in the morning
The eagle flies over the land
Some dark clouds gather in warning
Of the dice that are thrown by God's hand
Tell me
How Blue are your mountains?
How Blue are your shoes?
The sea scolds me roughly
For forgetting about you
Tell me what can I do for you?
The hurricane is insane
Its all the same to me
Thoughts and words
Whistle through my brain
But I just want to be free
I only want to be free
The anarchist with the ball and chain
Wants to tie down democracy
The Monarchist with the crown and cane
Is not a dint on me
I've got trouble on my brain
When the bubble bursts you'll see
I just want to break free
I only want to be free
The terrorist on his perch
The isolationist in me
Sitting on his desert island
Planning on planting a tree
The archivist, the archaeologist
Are all digging up artifacts of ancient history
But there's no use in getting upset
I only want to be free
Of course the hurricane is insane
Of course the wild wind blows
Of course the palms on the beach sway
But for how much longer who knows?
The black raven crows in the morning
The eagle flies over the land
Some dark clouds gather in warning
Of the dice that are thrown by God's hand
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Saturday 7 December 2019
Reach out and touch the past
They say the good die young
And time flies by so fast
While the criminals in power
Never seem to let the good times last
Well I know someone in the mirror
And someone trapped in an hour glass
It just seems to me that some days
I could reach out and touch the past
I remember those times in the garden
Climbing fir trees, the smell of the pine
Or when the sap gets sticky then hardens
On your clothes and your mother
hangs them on the washing line
Well that time is so like a lake
Into which a fisherman casts
Underwater memories the fish he makes
Look so close as if
I could reach out and touch the past
Oh but what would I do if I were back there?
How would I have changed or danced
Like a captain on time's ship
I have sailed the seas, blown along
By the winds I chanced
Yet still I would have done the things I did
Still I'd nail my colours to the same mast
But just sometimes there are things I'd wish undid
If I could reach out and touch the past
And time flies by so fast
While the criminals in power
Never seem to let the good times last
Well I know someone in the mirror
And someone trapped in an hour glass
It just seems to me that some days
I could reach out and touch the past
I remember those times in the garden
Climbing fir trees, the smell of the pine
Or when the sap gets sticky then hardens
On your clothes and your mother
hangs them on the washing line
Well that time is so like a lake
Into which a fisherman casts
Underwater memories the fish he makes
Look so close as if
I could reach out and touch the past
Oh but what would I do if I were back there?
How would I have changed or danced
Like a captain on time's ship
I have sailed the seas, blown along
By the winds I chanced
Yet still I would have done the things I did
Still I'd nail my colours to the same mast
But just sometimes there are things I'd wish undid
If I could reach out and touch the past
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Friday 6 December 2019
Surplus to requirements
Well I came to you and I pleaded
Like a spanner in the works
Or like a stone I bleeded
In a series of jerks
But in the end, my friend I was just
Surplus to requirements
Well I walked upon the Great Wall
Like a dragon breathing fire
Defending to the end
My purpose and my my Ire
But in the end my friend I was just
Surplus to requirements
No Let's not make a scene
There's no reason to discuss
The season and its end
Or how far to throw the discus
Its just that in the end, my friend I was
Surplus to requirements
I leant upon your garden fence
To talk about the law
But you just threw back in my face
What you had claimed before
Now I do not intend to contend
These articles no more
Let it be enough, there's no more fuss
For more I can't endure
In the end, my friend I was just
Surplus to requirements
No don't get me worng
I'm just as strong as the next guy to defend
My rights to liberty and justice
Even to offend
But if you mention freedom
Then that's one thing I abhor
Put me in a box, I've had enough
Don't discuss it anymore more
Because in the end, my friend I am just
Surplus to requirements
No the cardinals in Rome
Light their secret fire
But if its green or if its red
It can't get much higher
Because there's a glass ceiling
It can't rise above
Just like there's this kind of feeling
And some might call it love
But you know in the end, my friend I am just
Surplus to requirements
Like a spanner in the works
Or like a stone I bleeded
In a series of jerks
But in the end, my friend I was just
Surplus to requirements
Well I walked upon the Great Wall
Like a dragon breathing fire
Defending to the end
My purpose and my my Ire
But in the end my friend I was just
Surplus to requirements
No Let's not make a scene
There's no reason to discuss
The season and its end
Or how far to throw the discus
Its just that in the end, my friend I was
Surplus to requirements
I leant upon your garden fence
To talk about the law
But you just threw back in my face
What you had claimed before
Now I do not intend to contend
These articles no more
Let it be enough, there's no more fuss
For more I can't endure
In the end, my friend I was just
Surplus to requirements
No don't get me worng
I'm just as strong as the next guy to defend
My rights to liberty and justice
Even to offend
But if you mention freedom
Then that's one thing I abhor
Put me in a box, I've had enough
Don't discuss it anymore more
Because in the end, my friend I am just
Surplus to requirements
No the cardinals in Rome
Light their secret fire
But if its green or if its red
It can't get much higher
Because there's a glass ceiling
It can't rise above
Just like there's this kind of feeling
And some might call it love
But you know in the end, my friend I am just
Surplus to requirements
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
I got just what I deserved
Well you never would have thought
I'd have made it this far
No with my feet down in the gutter
I was staring up at the stars
But I did somebody wrong
And now I'm out on reserve
Well I know it's strong but in the long run
I got what I deserved
You know they should have locked me up
And thrown away the key
But instead they brought me the cup
And told me I was free
Well I don't know about justice
Or the pursuit of Liberty
But I guess my just deserts were served
Yes I got just what I deserved
Well we all are prisoners of nature's
Whims and follies
Whose to say a man can't reform
Even if he'd just go on his hollies
Yet there must be some accounting
So Mother Nature tests your nerve
Yes I can say the feelings mounting
I got just what I deserved
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
It took you to tell me I was wrong
There I was, just a head full of fuzz
Every move turned out bad
But I was blind in my mind
I couldn't see what I had
It took you to tell me I was wrong
There you were, always open and sure
Always knew the right thing to do
But I only wanted to endure
Its true I wanted to be like you
It took you to tell me I was wrong
There are somethings can't be changed
Like water down my drain
Good things come and soon they pass
But of all these things I've re-arranged
I've just been causing too much pain
I've felt the winds bend me like I was a blade of grass
Oh baby it took you to tell me I was wrong
There's more to this life I'm sure
Than running round a revolving door
When I'm not out I'm in
And its without doubt a sin
To be so lost and without direction
I just have to decide, and so in you I confide
It took you to tell me I was wrong
Every move turned out bad
But I was blind in my mind
I couldn't see what I had
It took you to tell me I was wrong
There you were, always open and sure
Always knew the right thing to do
But I only wanted to endure
Its true I wanted to be like you
It took you to tell me I was wrong
There are somethings can't be changed
Like water down my drain
Good things come and soon they pass
But of all these things I've re-arranged
I've just been causing too much pain
I've felt the winds bend me like I was a blade of grass
Oh baby it took you to tell me I was wrong
There's more to this life I'm sure
Than running round a revolving door
When I'm not out I'm in
And its without doubt a sin
To be so lost and without direction
I just have to decide, and so in you I confide
It took you to tell me I was wrong
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Wednesday 4 December 2019
Only the tip of the iceberg
Well they thought it would break
They thought it would shake
They even thought that they could make it
But as they turn up the heat
There's a roll of thunder in the deep
And that's only the tip of the iceberg
Now they were shouting in the street
They were love and life complete
And they thought it would last forever
But with the rising of the sun
Oh the dark days they soon would come
And that's only the tip of the iceberg
Now the countries they tried some
Glue to fix or to plug with gum
The holes in the ship that they'd been making
But as the ocean rise rolled on
And on the sinking ship the Captain's sum
Told him
That's only the tip of the iceberg
So come back from roads that roam
Down country lanes far from home
Our rambling days soon will be ending
There are bridges we have burnt
That need fixing with what we've learnt
And that's only the tip of the iceberg
They say good things come to those who wait
But now's not the time to hesitate
Grab your hammer and nails, fix your sails
Repair the mast and gunwhales
The ship will pass through narrow straits
To freedom
And a new day will be born
When the young world will give a yawn
And that's only the tip of the iceberg
They thought it would shake
They even thought that they could make it
But as they turn up the heat
There's a roll of thunder in the deep
And that's only the tip of the iceberg
Now they were shouting in the street
They were love and life complete
And they thought it would last forever
But with the rising of the sun
Oh the dark days they soon would come
And that's only the tip of the iceberg
Now the countries they tried some
Glue to fix or to plug with gum
The holes in the ship that they'd been making
But as the ocean rise rolled on
And on the sinking ship the Captain's sum
Told him
That's only the tip of the iceberg
So come back from roads that roam
Down country lanes far from home
Our rambling days soon will be ending
There are bridges we have burnt
That need fixing with what we've learnt
And that's only the tip of the iceberg
They say good things come to those who wait
But now's not the time to hesitate
Grab your hammer and nails, fix your sails
Repair the mast and gunwhales
The ship will pass through narrow straits
To freedom
And a new day will be born
When the young world will give a yawn
And that's only the tip of the iceberg
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
I never thought it would happen to me
Well I've been to the bottom
And I've been to the top
And I've been forgotten
And I've been high enough to pop
But all of these things I can be
I never thought it would have happened to me
I've seen women grow weak
And men grow frail
And the voices of the meek
Call for the holy grail
But of all these things that I could see
I never thought any of them would happen to me
When I was young, it was like the world was trust
Everything new under the sun, love and lust
But now I am older the ideas begin to rust
I look over my shoulder at the empires of dust
Still all these things that once made me feel free
I never once thought it would happen to me
When she left me there on the silver aisle
I saw her swear I saw her smile
But never once did I start to conceive
The little idea that she might deceive
But that was long before I found the key
I never once thought it would have happened to me
And I've been to the top
And I've been forgotten
And I've been high enough to pop
But all of these things I can be
I never thought it would have happened to me
I've seen women grow weak
And men grow frail
And the voices of the meek
Call for the holy grail
But of all these things that I could see
I never thought any of them would happen to me
When I was young, it was like the world was trust
Everything new under the sun, love and lust
But now I am older the ideas begin to rust
I look over my shoulder at the empires of dust
Still all these things that once made me feel free
I never once thought it would happen to me
When she left me there on the silver aisle
I saw her swear I saw her smile
But never once did I start to conceive
The little idea that she might deceive
But that was long before I found the key
I never once thought it would have happened to me
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Sunday 1 December 2019
Ronda
Each time I see those round eyes
Ronda you are my moonchild
Rolling in the valley
Of the Spanish wolf
Howling around my door
Ronda how your eyes get so big
Like moon beams shining
Out
And still the wolf roams
Round and round my door
Ronda there are bulls fighting on your flag
And Ronda they see red
Each time they hear your rag
But don't you ever surrender
To the slave ship where time does lag
The bulls are running down your streets
And its time to trap it in your bag
But the wolf still roams around my door
The moon still rolls above your hills
And down your valleys the wind blows chill
While the prison of your love
Stands atop your cliffs
Ronda you are my moonchild
Rolling in the valley
Of the Spanish wolf
Howling around my door
Ronda how your eyes get so big
Like moon beams shining
Out
And still the wolf roams
Round and round my door
Ronda there are bulls fighting on your flag
And Ronda they see red
Each time they hear your rag
But don't you ever surrender
To the slave ship where time does lag
The bulls are running down your streets
And its time to trap it in your bag
But the wolf still roams around my door
The moon still rolls above your hills
And down your valleys the wind blows chill
While the prison of your love
Stands atop your cliffs
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Down the garden path
In the sense that I love you
There can be no denying
Like the jet trails in the sky
Or the song of starling dying
There are gem stones in the garden
Hidden in the grass
And the children are treasure hunting
But I know their time won't last
For finding what you look for
Can be a curse its true
And losing what you hoped to keep
Can be the making of you
There are wrong steps in the garden
There are stepping stone come loose
And the worms are wriggling on the top soil
Like a prisoner in a noose
And the starling is waiting yonder
On the fence beside the hedge
As the Hawthorn branches shield him
Like a spy on a castle ledge
And he's listening for the winter
He's hearing the nightingale's song
The writhing worm is his fodder
And soon down he'll swoop upon
Because everything in the garden
Is a meal for somebody else
Be it a carrot in the vegetable patch
Or beetle on the green house shelf
There can be no denying
Like the jet trails in the sky
Or the song of starling dying
There are gem stones in the garden
Hidden in the grass
And the children are treasure hunting
But I know their time won't last
For finding what you look for
Can be a curse its true
And losing what you hoped to keep
Can be the making of you
There are wrong steps in the garden
There are stepping stone come loose
And the worms are wriggling on the top soil
Like a prisoner in a noose
And the starling is waiting yonder
On the fence beside the hedge
As the Hawthorn branches shield him
Like a spy on a castle ledge
And he's listening for the winter
He's hearing the nightingale's song
The writhing worm is his fodder
And soon down he'll swoop upon
Because everything in the garden
Is a meal for somebody else
Be it a carrot in the vegetable patch
Or beetle on the green house shelf
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Beautiful elf
Beautiful elf
With another self
Who knows I'm too young to die
Break from the norm
Come keep yourself warm
Just lay down by my side
Wonderous thing
With a grace unseen
Like an angel from the sky
Come spread your wings
Enveloping sings
Just lay down by my side
There's a world unknown
Outside made of stone
But we don't need to think of it inside
I'll be with you till the end
My elven friend
Just lay down by my side
All the places I've been
I've never seen
One of your fine ilk or like
If I knew you as silk
A spider thread like milk
Just lay down by my side
With another self
Who knows I'm too young to die
Break from the norm
Come keep yourself warm
Just lay down by my side
Wonderous thing
With a grace unseen
Like an angel from the sky
Come spread your wings
Enveloping sings
Just lay down by my side
There's a world unknown
Outside made of stone
But we don't need to think of it inside
I'll be with you till the end
My elven friend
Just lay down by my side
All the places I've been
I've never seen
One of your fine ilk or like
If I knew you as silk
A spider thread like milk
Just lay down by my side
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Friday 29 November 2019
Every leaf that falls
There is a reason in the soaring bird
There's reason in the clouds
There is sense in each and every call
Of the dove above the crowd
There is method in the madness
Of the writer in his word
And for every up there is a down
For every leaf that falls
There will be time enough for progress
And relegation to the trees
There will be judgement in the congress
Before we can be free
And every shadow traces an outline
Of each object in the hall
There is a name on every bullet
And in every leaf that falls
In the hour of the circumstance
That rounds the era's drawl
The women with kalashnikovs
The snakes on the ground still crawl
And Eve is walking with Adam
Down groves paradisiacal
Their relection in every apple
And in every leaf that falls
I have seen them in the aftermath
Of the world's uncertainy
In the face of the clown that laughs
In the honour of bravery
And any time you hear sound of an Angel's call
Be sure you lay down the gun once and for all
For there is innocense in the flower
And deep knowledge in dark night
And a nameless sorrow in its power
And in every leaf that falls
There's reason in the clouds
There is sense in each and every call
Of the dove above the crowd
There is method in the madness
Of the writer in his word
And for every up there is a down
For every leaf that falls
There will be time enough for progress
And relegation to the trees
There will be judgement in the congress
Before we can be free
And every shadow traces an outline
Of each object in the hall
There is a name on every bullet
And in every leaf that falls
In the hour of the circumstance
That rounds the era's drawl
The women with kalashnikovs
The snakes on the ground still crawl
And Eve is walking with Adam
Down groves paradisiacal
Their relection in every apple
And in every leaf that falls
I have seen them in the aftermath
Of the world's uncertainy
In the face of the clown that laughs
In the honour of bravery
And any time you hear sound of an Angel's call
Be sure you lay down the gun once and for all
For there is innocense in the flower
And deep knowledge in dark night
And a nameless sorrow in its power
And in every leaf that falls
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Thursday 28 November 2019
In the rain
I don't wanna paint my house no more
Go inside and lock the door
In the rain, in the rain
I don't wanna clean the balcony
I don't wanna dust the floor
Go inside and lock the door
In the rain, in the rain
I've got no time to mop the Windows
I've no time to sweep the walls
The leaves will fall in autumn
Even the crows will crow
Just take a stand for freedom
Soon her light won't show
In the rain, in the rain
I don't wanna fly my country's flag
I don't wanna flock the sheep
I've got two pence that's worth stealing
But what they steal is my sleep
I don't wanna shake the drain pipe
I don't wanna sniff the tree
Everything worth fighting for
Is worth the weight of freedom's key
Let me alone this day I stay inside
And lock the door
In the rain, in the rain
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
I don't know nobody around
I don't know nobody around
The dogs are in the ball park
But they lost their baow wow
I don't know nobody around
The man at the bus stop says
How do you do!
The man at the bus stop says how do you do
But I say just what's up? and I walk on through
Cos I don't know nobody around
The lady in the shop says
Say what's up boys
The lady in the shop says
Say what's up boys?
But I pick up my groceries and say
What's that noise?
Because I don't know nobody around
The baby in the pram says
A wha, wha wha
The baby in the pram says
A Wha, wha Wha
Well I say hey mother
why not put a lid on that jar!
Because I don't know nobody around
The moon is like a prison
For the good and the bad
The moon is like a prison for the good and the bad
But I'm like a warden who is feeling sad
No I don't know nobody around
The dogs are in the ball park
But they lost their baow wow
I don't know nobody around
The man at the bus stop says
How do you do!
The man at the bus stop says how do you do
But I say just what's up? and I walk on through
Cos I don't know nobody around
The lady in the shop says
Say what's up boys
The lady in the shop says
Say what's up boys?
But I pick up my groceries and say
What's that noise?
Because I don't know nobody around
The baby in the pram says
A wha, wha wha
The baby in the pram says
A Wha, wha Wha
Well I say hey mother
why not put a lid on that jar!
Because I don't know nobody around
The moon is like a prison
For the good and the bad
The moon is like a prison for the good and the bad
But I'm like a warden who is feeling sad
No I don't know nobody around
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
A train named devil
Well its all over the news
The devils riding that train
Yes its all over the news
Like we've got him on the brain
Well I don't know about sunrise
But he'll be coming back again
There was a train named devil
Way on another level
And he crowed his lonesome whistle
As he drew into the the platform
And many men got on
To ride on the devil's song
And the Devil's riding that train
And he'll be back again
Well I caught up to him on horse back
Somewhere further down the track
And he cried to me all aboard
I thanked him then and shunned the lord
And as I looked out the window
I could see all the world in shadow
Well the Devil's riding that train
And he turned my head back again
There's a man named devil talking on another level
Watch on over the table
Tryin to make Cain kill Able
There's an empty bucket
Someone drilled a hole in it
The bosun said well fuck it
We might as well drink it
The ship named Surprise was sinking
As from the bucket they went drinking
All about the deck hands thinking
Why's the bosun blinking
Sun through the hole came glinting
Flint in the lock went flashing
Now the crew they all went splashing
Over the in Jim Crows ocean gnashing
Sharks like sparks were dashing
In the milieu lashing
Hearts and tails slashing
All for the Captain's ration
Now there's a train named Devil
Running on over the bridge
Steel rails cold as a fridge
Until the red wheels slid
The devils riding that train
Yes its all over the news
Like we've got him on the brain
Well I don't know about sunrise
But he'll be coming back again
There was a train named devil
Way on another level
And he crowed his lonesome whistle
As he drew into the the platform
And many men got on
To ride on the devil's song
And the Devil's riding that train
And he'll be back again
Well I caught up to him on horse back
Somewhere further down the track
And he cried to me all aboard
I thanked him then and shunned the lord
And as I looked out the window
I could see all the world in shadow
Well the Devil's riding that train
And he turned my head back again
There's a man named devil talking on another level
Watch on over the table
Tryin to make Cain kill Able
There's an empty bucket
Someone drilled a hole in it
The bosun said well fuck it
We might as well drink it
The ship named Surprise was sinking
As from the bucket they went drinking
All about the deck hands thinking
Why's the bosun blinking
Sun through the hole came glinting
Flint in the lock went flashing
Now the crew they all went splashing
Over the in Jim Crows ocean gnashing
Sharks like sparks were dashing
In the milieu lashing
Hearts and tails slashing
All for the Captain's ration
Now there's a train named Devil
Running on over the bridge
Steel rails cold as a fridge
Until the red wheels slid
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Happy is the man who knows he's not alone
In all the ways that I am broken
I have spoken, I have spoken
I am just like she,
Only were were given different tokens
Different tickets to the show
Some are on the front seats
Others the back row
But we're all sitting
In front of the silver screen
While the actors are getting ready to go
In all the ways that I am broken I can count
Like the vertebrae of my spine
Like a column with a block out of place
Like a row of beans out of line
The tree trunk got damaged in the storm
From then on it never grew straight no more
No matter all the pins and nails, or rubberbands they tried
It was always blowing in the gales
Its roots went down into the ground
Deep like a miner for gold or oil
Deeper still but for the echo found
No living man could count the toil
If all the pillars of Rome have stood
Then why can't my own column stand for some good?
No matter if no hero is perched on its plinth
There is instead a migrant
Who won't move an inch
They blew up the fortune factory,
But the joke was on them
When the cookies crumbled
And they found all the chinese had invaded
The uninvited guest, the uninvited guest
Now we stare into the future
Of all these Christmases past
And remember ever suture
Of every promise sewn to last
And every man who put me here
In this never ending hour glass
Still in Rome
The ruined columns are still standing
or resting in the wild grass
I have spoken, I have spoken
I am just like she,
Only were were given different tokens
Different tickets to the show
Some are on the front seats
Others the back row
But we're all sitting
In front of the silver screen
While the actors are getting ready to go
In all the ways that I am broken I can count
Like the vertebrae of my spine
Like a column with a block out of place
Like a row of beans out of line
The tree trunk got damaged in the storm
From then on it never grew straight no more
No matter all the pins and nails, or rubberbands they tried
It was always blowing in the gales
Its roots went down into the ground
Deep like a miner for gold or oil
Deeper still but for the echo found
No living man could count the toil
If all the pillars of Rome have stood
Then why can't my own column stand for some good?
No matter if no hero is perched on its plinth
There is instead a migrant
Who won't move an inch
They blew up the fortune factory,
But the joke was on them
When the cookies crumbled
And they found all the chinese had invaded
The uninvited guest, the uninvited guest
Now we stare into the future
Of all these Christmases past
And remember ever suture
Of every promise sewn to last
And every man who put me here
In this never ending hour glass
Still in Rome
The ruined columns are still standing
or resting in the wild grass
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Time is running out and so are my words
We are so glad you could make it
It is well understood
That your coming to us this moment
Is an unprecedented good
We need more of your kind in the fray
So don't just doff your cap
Say hello, walk away
The tides like our fingers have been crossed
For a while
The slim odds of the winners
Have grown thinner with each passing
mile
And if you ask me to repeat what I've said
I will smile
Because when something is spoken
It can't be replaced like a tile
The rain came down one day in a deluge
The Gods were too proud
And threw down their crowns in a rage
The writer with the crowd
Could not write the next page
And so with feet stepping loud
He walked onto the stage
The only thing that bothers him
About this new adventure
Is who will pay for his insurance
Should the plan reach its investiture?
There are few who would follow him
Out into the fray
But less in the meantime will give
him his pay
Your coming here gladdens us
And brings a tear to the eye
The way that it saddens us
Is that all good things must die
But that has ever been the case with the world
All sweet things must pass
Be they boy or be they girl
It is well understood
That your coming to us this moment
Is an unprecedented good
We need more of your kind in the fray
So don't just doff your cap
Say hello, walk away
The tides like our fingers have been crossed
For a while
The slim odds of the winners
Have grown thinner with each passing
mile
And if you ask me to repeat what I've said
I will smile
Because when something is spoken
It can't be replaced like a tile
The rain came down one day in a deluge
The Gods were too proud
And threw down their crowns in a rage
The writer with the crowd
Could not write the next page
And so with feet stepping loud
He walked onto the stage
The only thing that bothers him
About this new adventure
Is who will pay for his insurance
Should the plan reach its investiture?
There are few who would follow him
Out into the fray
But less in the meantime will give
him his pay
Your coming here gladdens us
And brings a tear to the eye
The way that it saddens us
Is that all good things must die
But that has ever been the case with the world
All sweet things must pass
Be they boy or be they girl
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Wednesday 27 November 2019
No comment
It has been eleven months of hardship
And of toil
And I've been the only one to trip
Up on spilt oil
That I left there the night before
When I was frying bread
But these are all burnt offerings
That I've kept inside my head
The druggist sold me cures
For sleeping without my soul
She said it looks like you've left it somewhere
Stuck up a tree or out on a midnight stroll?
But I said
I've been nowhere
Just around the city of the dead
And she said perhaps you should try to enjoy
Yourself more
Why not try the tree of life instead?
Then I walked to the doctor he said
Take no notice of her,
What you need is a good lawyer
To tell about the laws and lore
He said you need more stories my son
About how the good die young
And how the old are dressed as mutton
And how the lion lies down with the lamb
I left him then in the morning as the sun it began to shine
And she had said good luck to you
Before she said your place or mine
And after several Bloody Maries
And a few Save Our Souls
I retired to the prairies where
The lipgloss took control
She was only speaking of a certain
Weakness in a man
When I heard her preaching service
To the rolling caravan
A rolling stone gathers no moss
Or else that what I think I heard her say
The dust that gathered around the microphone
Was like desert sand across a long highway
In some places it is thicker
In others it's just blown away
By the wind that warms the hitchhikers
And moves them on their way
And of toil
And I've been the only one to trip
Up on spilt oil
That I left there the night before
When I was frying bread
But these are all burnt offerings
That I've kept inside my head
The druggist sold me cures
For sleeping without my soul
She said it looks like you've left it somewhere
Stuck up a tree or out on a midnight stroll?
But I said
I've been nowhere
Just around the city of the dead
And she said perhaps you should try to enjoy
Yourself more
Why not try the tree of life instead?
Then I walked to the doctor he said
Take no notice of her,
What you need is a good lawyer
To tell about the laws and lore
He said you need more stories my son
About how the good die young
And how the old are dressed as mutton
And how the lion lies down with the lamb
I left him then in the morning as the sun it began to shine
And she had said good luck to you
Before she said your place or mine
And after several Bloody Maries
And a few Save Our Souls
I retired to the prairies where
The lipgloss took control
She was only speaking of a certain
Weakness in a man
When I heard her preaching service
To the rolling caravan
A rolling stone gathers no moss
Or else that what I think I heard her say
The dust that gathered around the microphone
Was like desert sand across a long highway
In some places it is thicker
In others it's just blown away
By the wind that warms the hitchhikers
And moves them on their way
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Saturday 23 November 2019
Mountains of Can
Well there's a mountain of can
Than we all must climb
And down in the valley
Is the man
Down in the river of rust
That river just rolls like a steamer
It takes all of the can from the dreamer
And it rusts it in him
Like an old dirty tin
Oh better believe he's a dreamer
Now back up the mountain of can he climbs
Never noticing the recycling van
Parked on the incline
He takes from his pocket
A stop watch full of time
But the can runs out too
Like a can -do in his prime
Now down to the valley of rust he might slip
If it wasn't for the clown
Who's watching his trips
And he lends him a hand
(Not the first time) but the second
And this stops him rolling all the way down
What a kind clown, the can clown kind
Than we all must climb
And down in the valley
Is the man
Down in the river of rust
That river just rolls like a steamer
It takes all of the can from the dreamer
And it rusts it in him
Like an old dirty tin
Oh better believe he's a dreamer
Now back up the mountain of can he climbs
Never noticing the recycling van
Parked on the incline
He takes from his pocket
A stop watch full of time
But the can runs out too
Like a can -do in his prime
Now down to the valley of rust he might slip
If it wasn't for the clown
Who's watching his trips
And he lends him a hand
(Not the first time) but the second
And this stops him rolling all the way down
What a kind clown, the can clown kind
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
My Grand father's feet
I never did know about my grandfathers feet
Well they trudged through the snow
Now buried six feet deep
Well I never did know about my grandfathers feet
Well he had six wives, and made six women weep
I never did know about my grandfather's feet
They say he left them somewhere where down
In Mexico,
Well with the poisonous Ivy and the Indian way
I still hear them stepping in a southern comfort sway
Dancing the Tango like a chimney sweep
Well I never did know about my grandfathers feet
I never did know about my grandfather's feet
Some are like the railroad line
They just want to repeat
And others are like the stoned crows sitting on
a tree top seat
Well who ever should where he did go
On his grandfatherly feet?
Well they trudged through the snow
Now buried six feet deep
Well I never did know about my grandfathers feet
Well he had six wives, and made six women weep
I never did know about my grandfather's feet
They say he left them somewhere where down
In Mexico,
Well with the poisonous Ivy and the Indian way
I still hear them stepping in a southern comfort sway
Dancing the Tango like a chimney sweep
Well I never did know about my grandfathers feet
I never did know about my grandfather's feet
Some are like the railroad line
They just want to repeat
And others are like the stoned crows sitting on
a tree top seat
Well who ever should where he did go
On his grandfatherly feet?
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Every corner of the city
In every corner of the city
There's something going down
Round every bend
Somebody is painting the town
Someone's making a friend
What they have in common
That's how the story ends
In another corner of the city
The mourners parade
Someone is fishing casting his line
Someone is cycling the tunes doing fine
In every corner another person
Is calling a friend
But nobody knows how the story
Will end
There's a corner of this city
Where the gargoyles glare
Down from their posts
At the hell down there
And on another roof top
An Angel's hand to a man extends
But nobody knows how the story
Ends
Another side of the wall
the graffiti artists call
Their tags spread over an older
Picture
They scrape it off into dust
Layers of paint like imaginations rust
And attempts to say what they need to express
Nobody shouting or trying to impress
Like giving a little as a branch that bends
This how the story ends
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Once in a blue moon
I saw you out on the blue moon
You came and went
and were gone too soon
Don't invent a reason for your absensence
Just put it down to too much scotch
vermouth or absinth
Nothing going on here,
nothing to see
For a time I was feeling queer
But of that feeling I am free
Lost again as if
As if I had some golden globe
That I could hold and keep near
Like adoration sold
Then I saw you smile like a missile
Through the room
It burst in a candle light
A wicker wax gloom
But the globe kept spinning around
As if a ball on a loom
And each Silver thread was spun
Turned into another moon
Blue was the colour
Then blood red
Then green
And from that I knew an absinth fairy near
Or else a Goblin queen
And she kept up her calling
Her temptation dream
And you were still there smiling
Like the cat who got the cream
You came and went
and were gone too soon
Don't invent a reason for your absensence
Just put it down to too much scotch
vermouth or absinth
Nothing going on here,
nothing to see
For a time I was feeling queer
But of that feeling I am free
Lost again as if
As if I had some golden globe
That I could hold and keep near
Like adoration sold
Then I saw you smile like a missile
Through the room
It burst in a candle light
A wicker wax gloom
But the globe kept spinning around
As if a ball on a loom
And each Silver thread was spun
Turned into another moon
Blue was the colour
Then blood red
Then green
And from that I knew an absinth fairy near
Or else a Goblin queen
And she kept up her calling
Her temptation dream
And you were still there smiling
Like the cat who got the cream
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Dandelion kiss
Everything felt like childhood
The stinging night does sing
About times that I have lost
And about songs that I did sing
The rocks are by the lily
And the stream flows to the sea
And each and every butterfly
Beats its wings to be free
Now the day is like a cumbersome
Toad that I must roll
All along the footpath that is made of gold
And she is like a flower
Growing by the road
I pick her for an hour
Before I blow away her soul
There are headlights in the evening
The foglights shining bright
And I stand up from the ceiling
To the morning's drowning light
French windows are blowing open
And the wind begins to call
These memories into being
From a world outside so cold
I hold her in my pocket
This flower of memory
And I will not forget her
Nor shall she forget me
The day is growing brighter
And the sun begins to shout
About the doors that we left open
When I decided to walk out
Ah but these slides are frozen
And the reel has turned on
And all the vases are broken
And now my flower is gone
Just one final word
Before I do pass on
The singing of the bird
In the lyrics of a song
She was like a Dandelion
Waving her crazy head
And I kissed her in the morning
Until I left her bed
So blow away my kisses
Like the seeds of a Dandelion head
The wind will take my thought dreams
To another land instead
The stinging night does sing
About times that I have lost
And about songs that I did sing
The rocks are by the lily
And the stream flows to the sea
And each and every butterfly
Beats its wings to be free
Now the day is like a cumbersome
Toad that I must roll
All along the footpath that is made of gold
And she is like a flower
Growing by the road
I pick her for an hour
Before I blow away her soul
There are headlights in the evening
The foglights shining bright
And I stand up from the ceiling
To the morning's drowning light
French windows are blowing open
And the wind begins to call
These memories into being
From a world outside so cold
I hold her in my pocket
This flower of memory
And I will not forget her
Nor shall she forget me
The day is growing brighter
And the sun begins to shout
About the doors that we left open
When I decided to walk out
Ah but these slides are frozen
And the reel has turned on
And all the vases are broken
And now my flower is gone
Just one final word
Before I do pass on
The singing of the bird
In the lyrics of a song
She was like a Dandelion
Waving her crazy head
And I kissed her in the morning
Until I left her bed
So blow away my kisses
Like the seeds of a Dandelion head
The wind will take my thought dreams
To another land instead
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Wednesday 20 November 2019
Truly Deeply
I'm fed up with trying to be deep
I'm really sick of it
There's nothing else I need but sleep
But I can't get a stick of it
It's the dripping of the drain pipe
Or the falling of the rain
Call it the windows that need a wipe
Or any other name
The shame of it is maddening
The curse is just the same
And if you try to tell your dad
He just speaks his words in vain
Yes I'm fed up with being deep
I'm not afraid to admit it
It takes a deep man to say he's shallow
And I'm in such low waters
That I could paddle
In fact I could wade to the shore
And remain on dry land
There's nothing much to search for anymore
There's no hidden treasure
In the ocean bed's sand
Perhaps there once was a ship of Victory
But she's long been sunk and salvaged
Her cargo's been reclaimed
No I'm sick to the back teeth of being deep
I want all my poetry renamed
It should be named the pill
Or the heavy eye-lidder
The drowsy smell of flowers
That makes the driver veer off course
On a skidder
And the car crash wreck is a double decker
Like the Ship that sunk in the sleep
Oh yes I've had it up to the neck
Like the drumming wood pecker
I'm so sick of trying to be deep
I'm really sick of it
There's nothing else I need but sleep
But I can't get a stick of it
It's the dripping of the drain pipe
Or the falling of the rain
Call it the windows that need a wipe
Or any other name
The shame of it is maddening
The curse is just the same
And if you try to tell your dad
He just speaks his words in vain
Yes I'm fed up with being deep
I'm not afraid to admit it
It takes a deep man to say he's shallow
And I'm in such low waters
That I could paddle
In fact I could wade to the shore
And remain on dry land
There's nothing much to search for anymore
There's no hidden treasure
In the ocean bed's sand
Perhaps there once was a ship of Victory
But she's long been sunk and salvaged
Her cargo's been reclaimed
No I'm sick to the back teeth of being deep
I want all my poetry renamed
It should be named the pill
Or the heavy eye-lidder
The drowsy smell of flowers
That makes the driver veer off course
On a skidder
And the car crash wreck is a double decker
Like the Ship that sunk in the sleep
Oh yes I've had it up to the neck
Like the drumming wood pecker
I'm so sick of trying to be deep
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Ocean's eleven -or Rhyme of the ancient mariner Revisited
I set off for eleven oceans
After I'd sailed seven seas
Four more I could not fail
I thought it would be a breeze
I was a lonesome vagabond
in search of riches, tourism and drink
But on that eleventh ocean
was where my ship did sink
A-drowning I was ship-wrecked
my raft it was marooned
upon the shore of a far off Isle
by a whale I had Harpooned
For where is this poor countree
that ye have towed me to?
He said well lonesome vagabond
I've towed ye to Peru
Peru I said and startled up
Where canst a man walk home?
Neigh dear lonesome Mariner
For too far have ye now roamed
But Lo what Majestic sky turned out
When I did turn me Head
For Heaven displayed a plethora of stars
One if followed must home me led
To orient I fixed the whale
Again out on the ocean
And told him hence to beat his tail
And thus from this dark Isle we shall give motion
And so on the crew of one did wend
It's starlit toiling passion
For the sea was as green as a wild monster
Calling my heart's courage to ration
Never a boat had thus put sail
Upon these treacherous seas
Nor chart or map to orient
Our pathless way to ease
We journeyed on without rainfall,
Our mouths were parched as sands
And the rats which fled from my raft
The searing heat they could not stand
Then to me appeared a visage of a friend
One I had known but now long lost
A man I had betrayed in love
And now before me visited his ghost
Accusing eyes they pierced me
And cut me to the quick
That I should live, while he had died
No candle burns a faster wick
Then flames in cohorts filled the scene
And seemed to set a light the timber
And in each flame a visage appeared
Of a man who was my crew member
They called to me and cried still worse
Why have you forsaken your brothers?
Because your life and his were tied together
Now his death will be your curse
So, on I fled, crying “take me away from this guilt”
And soon from the air came a wandering dove
The evil which gave voice to these spirits
Had been dissolved by a face of love
The mermaid (dove?) joined my vessel and led the
Whale towards dark cliffs,
“It is land “I cried
And so grateful was I
That no line written could tell of my bliss
Thank you said I, but then down had he died
Exhausted upon the deck
My future still lay in the balance, so for luck
I wore the bird around my neck
The Island was old and grey from a distance
But with speed became more familiar
It was the very spot I had sailed from
In June fifteen long years past clear
The wedding guests had arrived and there
I went with upmost haste
Now to you I regale my tale
Of eleven ocean's to which I lay waste
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Meet me on the island
Meet me on the island
I'm drowning, I'm drowning
Meet me on the island
Of a thousand crownings
A thousand brown hens
Crowing the morning
A thousand cockrels
Cock adoodling a warning
Meet me on the island
Of sacrifice
Meet me on the island
Called paradise
I've been over the cold iron bridge
And I've been stuck on
a hot fiery ridge
Been too close to the sun
On my midnight run
Been down to the brook
To read a book
And lay down by the stream
To take sometime to dream
Now meet me on the island
We live in the promised land
We'll row over there one night
Under cover, out of sight
And draw our bows from the withies
And we'll stretch our strings
From twine that bark brings
And make a harp that sings
In the starlight
And you'll brood in the rude rushes
In a hood where you stood under crushes
Of the night when it fell
When we heard the tolling bell
Ring out like a warning through the reeds
So meet me on the island
Where all of it bleeds
And it mixes in the river
And its carried in the flood
I can see your eyes full of water too
Like you could cry by the riverbank
But darling can't you tell
The island is ours as well
So let's keep it a secret
And give thanks
To keep it
Kick out the kites
And Deliver the doves
The gulls are so bright
Silouhetted crosses above
Where the crows crowd in a parliament
And parle about the world outside their branches
They sit on the wires,
like old men around fires
Discussing the government
Like cowboys on ranches
I'm drowning, I'm drowning
Meet me on the island
Of a thousand crownings
A thousand brown hens
Crowing the morning
A thousand cockrels
Cock adoodling a warning
Meet me on the island
Of sacrifice
Meet me on the island
Called paradise
I've been over the cold iron bridge
And I've been stuck on
a hot fiery ridge
Been too close to the sun
On my midnight run
Been down to the brook
To read a book
And lay down by the stream
To take sometime to dream
Now meet me on the island
We live in the promised land
We'll row over there one night
Under cover, out of sight
And draw our bows from the withies
And we'll stretch our strings
From twine that bark brings
And make a harp that sings
In the starlight
And you'll brood in the rude rushes
In a hood where you stood under crushes
Of the night when it fell
When we heard the tolling bell
Ring out like a warning through the reeds
So meet me on the island
Where all of it bleeds
And it mixes in the river
And its carried in the flood
I can see your eyes full of water too
Like you could cry by the riverbank
But darling can't you tell
The island is ours as well
So let's keep it a secret
And give thanks
To keep it
Kick out the kites
And Deliver the doves
The gulls are so bright
Silouhetted crosses above
Where the crows crowd in a parliament
And parle about the world outside their branches
They sit on the wires,
like old men around fires
Discussing the government
Like cowboys on ranches
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Double Crossed
What can I do for you?
Sitting in the park
Watching the people go by
Waiting for the dark
Where are they going?
Are they happy with their lives
Are they filled with sorrow or joy?
And what can I do for you or am I just your toy?
I am often a watcher of life
On the carousel
It goes round and round
And I stand in the middle and yell
Can anybody hear me
Do I make a sound
And what can I do for you?
Am I making any ground?
You see I'm incognito
I'm the master spy
There are thieves like me
Everywhere
Just in the act of stealing
They die
And every double agent
Has heart that's double crossed
Its just you can no longer steal it
When it already has been lost
The world is made of instances
Much like a film you see
And if you slow it down a notch
Then life suddenly is free
We don't have to rush, we don't have to fight
There is no final bell
We just hope we'll make it back home tonight
Sitting in the park
Watching the people go by
Waiting for the dark
Where are they going?
Are they happy with their lives
Are they filled with sorrow or joy?
And what can I do for you or am I just your toy?
I am often a watcher of life
On the carousel
It goes round and round
And I stand in the middle and yell
Can anybody hear me
Do I make a sound
And what can I do for you?
Am I making any ground?
You see I'm incognito
I'm the master spy
There are thieves like me
Everywhere
Just in the act of stealing
They die
And every double agent
Has heart that's double crossed
Its just you can no longer steal it
When it already has been lost
The world is made of instances
Much like a film you see
And if you slow it down a notch
Then life suddenly is free
We don't have to rush, we don't have to fight
There is no final bell
We just hope we'll make it back home tonight
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Just a man
The world is black but I am white
The angels sing
But not tonight
Who am I, but what I am
The world is heavy
I'm just a man
In the ashes of my final hour
I see the seeds of hope's bright flower
And while I lie
An Angel stands
But who am I
I'm just a man
In a world that's grey
I am cold
In a world that's worn
I am old
And as I walk round
Disaster's castle
The walls crumble down
Like Saint Stephen's tower
And while I lie
An Angel stands
But who am I
I am just a man
The clock strikes one
I am all alone
The feelings come
But of none I own
In a desert sand
My foot prints clear
Some times I walk
No one is near
Sometimes I struggle
Sometimes I fall
My eyes see double
My ears hear call
And while I lie
An Angel stands
But what am I
I am just a man
The angels sing
But not tonight
Who am I, but what I am
The world is heavy
I'm just a man
In the ashes of my final hour
I see the seeds of hope's bright flower
And while I lie
An Angel stands
But who am I
I'm just a man
In a world that's grey
I am cold
In a world that's worn
I am old
And as I walk round
Disaster's castle
The walls crumble down
Like Saint Stephen's tower
And while I lie
An Angel stands
But who am I
I am just a man
The clock strikes one
I am all alone
The feelings come
But of none I own
In a desert sand
My foot prints clear
Some times I walk
No one is near
Sometimes I struggle
Sometimes I fall
My eyes see double
My ears hear call
And while I lie
An Angel stands
But what am I
I am just a man
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
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