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
Wednesday, 4 December 2019
Only the tip of the iceberg
Labels:
environmental
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
Labels:
climate change,
progress,
trees
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
Labels:
rain
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)