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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)