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5d · 22
Untitled
She waited for Dennis ,
what could I say ,
I wanted to love her on this romantic da y .

She would rather be inside with the tele ,
with the wind and the rain battering her window Paine ,
and spend time with Dennis than me.

For she loves the rain when lightning strikes ,
and the moon is full she finds delight .

When thunder rolls and the lightning strikes ,
and O the fires burn with pure delight ,
upon her harth ashes burn ,
as Dennis knocks on her front door ,
she sits before an open fire ,
sees those evil flames lift higher and higher ,

goes to bed turns off the tele ,
and as for Dennis who lost his menace ,
it’s storm clouds and windy gust ,
turned to a patter ,
and I came in ,
out of the rain
5d · 34
Side by side.
I came to you my love as the clouds parted ,
and the suns rays ,
as if without a care ,
lit up you’re eyes ,
and brought a cherry blossom to you’re hair .

Though it need not dare ,
it did find nothing but love there .

And if by chance my horse should race without even seeing you’re
beautiful face ,
when every tear you shed was thine ,
then you shall be forever mine .

So then my love I shall take you’re hand ,
and you as mine
ride side by side ,
gallently riding barefoot through the sands of time .

And  as the seas might foam and rise ,
and make wet you’re white silk dress and thighs ,
just then as tenderly you would hold you’re delicate hands around my waste

For I in innocence not turn to see you smile .
to  kiss you’re wet lips as we embrace ,
jump in side by side ,
and caress you’re face ,
untill the waters sweep our bodies back onto the shore ,
side by side ,
soaked to the skin but in love once more ,
our two hearts beating as one as if for evermore .
Feb 9 · 20
Uncle Joe .
Let me tell you a story of uncle Joe ,
he died one night with his wife in bed ,
she held his hand as his ghost departed.

Before we laid Joe to rest ,
one last photo of the family we thought best ,
all dressed in black ,
we knew Joe won’t be back .
We propped up Uncle Joe on a chair ,
the family all around had gathered there .
My sister even combed her hair ,
all for Uncle Joe .
Our faces grim for it wasn’t the thing ,
to laugh and joke for the camera .
as still we stood ,
like a block of wood,
one last shot of Joe for the camera .

At least the sun did not shine ,
oh blessed be thine ,
to rest Uncle Joe with Jesus ,
for that is best ,
for in heaven he now rests ,
with his beloved saviour .
Feb 2 · 35
Dying sands .
Into shallow waters we shall wade ,
side by side our serenade ,
two lovers hand in hand ,
Kicking out sandels off in the sand .

Oh turtle love won’t you come to ?
and the shell fish two by two ,
follow us to deeper waters splashing our hips and upper quarters.

Where is the crab ,
the star fish too ,
Caught in plastic oh are you ?
Another can of Coca Cola ,
Seaweed drowning not in salty water ,
but what man throws disguarded by day ,
what the winds just blew away ,
what the rain clouds will claim some day ,
our ever dying sands .
Jan 28 · 32
The shadows of grief
I walked in the shadows of my grief,
alone ,
for no gravestone could speak of what we had known .
For you who had hung so radiantly amugst the stars for a while , now ,
crash landed through space and time .
No rescue boat could keep us afloat ,
I saw it as you’re stars went dim .
so I could be by your side .
Is there nothing in this life that’s mine ?
for it all reminds me of you.


So here I stand to what an end ,
for my best friend has gone ,
and even death dare not claim me still ,

defeated by Christ ,it dare not draw me in.
And sleep my only refuge ,
to which I must awake .
Oh for pity’s sake .
You walked away many moons ago ,
please come back or tell me which way to go .
Jan 26 · 48
Heaven .
I returned home from work one day ,
went to bed and here I lay ,
in my own room without a friend ,
to say good night ,
when will it ever end ?
And so to the bad ,
the great and the good ,

the whispering of the years ,
the misunderstood .
For the black bird still sings it’s merry tunes before dawn,
as i lie alone in my bed ,
thankful for all the years ..
They captivate me still ,
the snow drop yet to bud ,
the red ant who keeps a home for the stomaphis beneath the bark of an old oak tree ,
as my saviour keeps a place for me .
No woman have I held dear ,
her gentle touch when death is near ,
no whispers in my ear .

But I have seen luminous lights light up the beach as if it were day ,
and monsters of iron ,
giving out their steam ,
acuducts and tunnels built by mans own dream ,
Yet I have lived and has it not been grand ?

Still pity the man who has no hope ,
nothing to cling to when life becomes a joke ,
Who works and dies to what a cost ,
he has never seen Gods promises ,
and it is in them do I have my hope ..
Jan 26 · 28
Two old friends .
Please don’t go ,
for were once friends a long time ago ,
Spoke everyday with laughter and a joke ,
don’t you know .

Oh there you are you still have that smile ,
it’s just a picture on my wats app all the while .
That face book picture hasn’t changed ,
and the like you gave me ,
just wasn’t the same .

Now we don’t talk like others do we just wats app  say ,
how do you do ?
And so I have turned into a bitter old shrew ,
who dos’nt have any friends the way I knew you .
Yore a tale of two old friends ,
who now don’t talk ,
just like and make amends .
Jan 20 · 16
Jack the nine tails .
Jack Rann was a simple man ,
as the rich got richer he found a simple plan .
To bleed money from the rich the best he could

In the market place a pick pocket be ,
but even that wasn’t enough for he.
For the wealthy walked by with their heads in the air ,
they didn’t look down ,
and never saw him there .

So to the stage coach he rode both  day and night ,
with hardly a wink he rode through the night ,
on hay did he lay with his steed at his side .

All the money his clients spent on good food every night ,
and where did he lay his head ?
by his horse by his bed .

Each night he heard them in laughter and joke ,
drinking and singing telling a ***** joke !

All that money did he watch going from hand to fist ,
and he had it not ,
not a dime not a stitch .

So to his faithful horse he took ,
Jack the nine tails around his silk breeches .

rode this land with a grin and a smile ,
a pistol and a cunning plan to charm the ladies and gentleman of
their wealth as they passed by ,
was Jack the nine tales scoundrel .


Then one day to such bad luck ,
the Duke was like a sitting duck .

In chains he faced the gallows there ,
the flowers he wore  when he was there ,
around his silk breeches .
Jiggled a jig as the noose pulled tight ,
at tyburn the gin ran over that night .

But who could forget this lad with a wink ,
who hung by a noose by the dance of a jig ?
hung at Tyborn tree .
I know when it’s time to write ,
for when the starlings murumting rise and fall ,
and rise ,
then fall ,
then fall ,
and fall ,
their light skeletons frail ,
In many numbers they never found their wings ,
found dead upon the gravel.
So the bird who has no shame swooped for his prey all the same ,
for down down did it lay ,
then up to a blue yonder .

As for us the sun will rise as we fly to bluer skies than sapplings wither and more will die ,
as we as birds must rise and fall ,
then rise ,
and find Gods rest as we retreat from the worlds thistle and worm.

So as the rabbit must flee from his Michelin chef ,
so must we from his rabbit stew ,
and burrow our way to pastures new ,
to a greener yonder .
In silence we mourn,
for it is in darkness we awake ,
and peek through holes as the daylight appears ,
in the light of the gate ,
that  snuffs out the wick in the march of the years .

Then slowly and quiet.y our coffins await to be drawn out in trains ,
out of the Nectropolices gate.

For as the bush fires burn ,
and scorch the land ,
and the war Lords gather to map out their plans .
For even if the Netropolics  train is running late ,
and we play hopscotch by the stations gate ,
but it’s to late the carriages move ever on .

But the preacher waits there is a cure ,
and the trains wagons will stop im. Sure .

So tell the sick Christ’s work is done ,
the cross ,
new life in Gods only son .
There  is a way past Brookwood crem,
and deaths train is not the end at all ,
for them .
Dec 2019 · 35
Her
Her
She hid herself from my sight ,
Of which i could not embrace ,
the beauty of her loving touch .

The crystal waters of the seas ,
reflected gently on her breeze ,
all of which were not mine ,
but borrowed from her wings of time .

Yet before do I now tremble in fear ,
for the crystal waters becon me near ,
never to look upon her face stretching out towards the mountains .


There the shallows of dark waters where ,
caught like moonlight in the air ,
she pulled me under ,
Without a care ,
as if I would ever follow her there ?


And there she stood in crystal white ,
her eyes beamed ,
though they hid not light,
and I was able to see her face ,
it shone as if it were white .
My lungs were full ,
I could not breath ,
and slowly ,
slowly ,
I sank to my knees ,
then .
All  went black ,
Indeed .

Light filled my blackened gaze ,
all was lost
untill I heard her say ,
‘ take my hand ‘ .
and so light entered by moonlight ,
my soul I surrendered to thee .
Dec 2019 · 45
Carolin
she looked at me from where she stood her grave yard eyes were ,
misunderstood ,
she left her heart in a net   ,
catching fireflies in my back garden.

The broken sun now lies low ,
for off to ambiguity she would go ,
and pierce my heart where ever
we  went  ,my forever  
toxic lady.
For I remember to this day ,
her eyes upon me was her prey ,
she sat upon me as I lay ,
my forever Carolina.
For pheasants with crowns pruned
their feathers all around ,
as we first met on the merry go round,
with candy floss lips ,
amongst the punch n Judy.

She span me around until  I dropped ,
my life had become a spinning top ,
then before the coconut shys  ,
she won first prize ,
my ever previous lady .

How I would love to steal her heart ,
go back to the merry go round from the start ,
and her sticky pink candy floss lips ,
of my sugar baby .
Dec 2019 · 35
Untitled
Wishing my supporters a very warm
Christmas    
special thanks to Fawn and crazy D,
and Dragos !
Dec 2019 · 147
the little sapling !
There was once a small sapling living in a wood,  
man cut him down ,
dressed him in  balbuls and lights,
the best he could.And so the  birds that didnt give out song ,
or move ,
just perched ,
or sometimes fell from his branches,
were forgotten a long long time ago .

His new family made him feel special,
with gifts around his trunk ,
and for a season ,
for that is all it was ,
seemed nice.         çvvvvvv       v   v  
His  new family ,happy  
until they got drunk !

But late at night when left all alone , when his lights were off ,
and everything was dark  ,
and cold.
He looked out of his window  ,
brought a tear to his eye .
For tall and elegant trees ,
did he see all waving to him in the breeze ,
as if to say goodbye.

Cut down ,
not fully grown,
away from his saplings ,
all alone .
He pined  for the days before man came ,
torn down ,
dumped he lay  ,
awaiting the council trash cart ,
for today was dumpsvillie  day .
Dec 2019 · 48
Begin
There was no love in their eyes ,
no hope for mans .
Curdled in death ,
there is nowhere for mankind to begin.

No love or kindly thoughts ,
no sacrament for sin ,
not even a burnt offering so we could begin .

And we would all  if our eyes blinded by the snow ,
the peasant found nowhere to go ,
The thief who starving and cold stole a carcus of beef for his wife ,
yet  did not find sanctuary from the church in broad day light .

So we work to pay our debtors for what we have built ,
and drink ,
and drink ,
and drink .
To fill our nights with  rude drunken songs ,
and tell ourselves that’s where we belong .
For if man is evil than God is love ,
for he doth not look on man from above ,
and pity our souls before opening the bin ,
but sent Christ Jesus ,
as a babe just so we could begin.
Dec 2019 · 49
The waiting
Beware the flight of the black gull ,
It’s wings are not broken ,
it hasn’t food to eat ,
yet lies in far reaches of our mind could ever reach .

It’s shadows await me ,
It’s beak is strong ,
It hunts when I am tired of being alone so long .

It sees my indifference no thoughts of its own ,
if evil awaits me I shudder then sleep .
A thought for the dying ,
life is better than hell .

Seen through blinding sorrow ,
don’t pity my pain ,
for I sort it and craved it for tomorrow,
for now it’s going to rain .

For the black gull swoops to pluck eyes from its prey ,
a prayer for the dying it will never go away .

So when I am good ,
It still looks down ,
when I am away from it’s shadows ,
It’s always around .
i Look up one slip ,
and I’m gone !
Dec 2019 · 114
A Christmas carol .
One light at Christmas ,
the Christ child is born ,
one light at Christmas herolds a new dawn .
When all our petty slobbles are forgotten in a trice ,
all the different colours that dazzle ,
found in neon and angel lights .
The  cold nights of a stranger ,
who puts up with cardboard boxes for the night.
For he sleeps in shop doorways ,
and is killed by frost bite .

But yet this baby Christ Jesus without a home was he ,
spoke words for man to hear ,
by the shores of Galilee ,
fed the hungry,  fish by the sea .

The drunkard man fills his belly finds himself
brawling in the streets,
anything for a good time ,
for life is always bitter ,
and never sweet .

One light at Christmas man stops to take a look ,
a minute before dying ,
one light is all it took .
a crib a manger one holy babe ,
One saviour  for the dead ,
so man might believe and be saved ,
One holy. Night free from demons and death .
A holy Christ Jesus ,
that rose from Calvery ,
One holy Christ Jesus ,
the same that hung naked on a tree ,
One Holy Christ Jesus ,
died and rose for me .
Dec 2019 · 86
Thank you
I’m in on my I pad ,
What a Glorious day ,
Thanks to h p tech ,
My plea wasn’t in vain .
Today is a happy day .
Dec 2019 · 67
song for the earth
This winter came without due care ,
and said to Autumn " now I am here
spread your wings youre work is done  , for now I must seek out the sun ,
I must blow iceicles upon his breath ,
arrange the heavens  until cold winds
are all you feel .
My cold winds will reshape you're skies  ,
deceive your eyes into believing sunny skies .
For what Autumn has started I will end .
Strip leaves from their trees ,
snap the branch until it won't bend ,
leave the finch without a home ,
disturb the field mouse all curled up
for spring  ."

So man gathered his wood ,
and built a fire ,
his green house gassess lifted higher ,
then chimneys to burn his coal ,
factory's steel mills and iron ore .
Man manufactured cars of petroleum,
then shaked his fist at winter and said
"  can I build any higher " ?

So winter frowned and breathed its last his frozen nights were now a
thing of the past  ,
for man was happy with his warm
January nights
held parties that went into the night  ,
filled with plastic dust lifted high
into the night .

And so the earth warmed as floods ***** his lands ,
and children turned over bins the
only way they can .
Their mothers and Fathers threw cans
from vans as they didnt give a dam ,
and the green house gasses filled
the earth again .

epilogue
A boy kicked a can of Coke   ,
to the feet of an elderly lady with a
grinless smile  ,
who played an ***** grinder for a shilling and a joke  ,
played rock n rolling Christmas until
they all went up in smoke !
Dec 2019 · 25
YOU HID THE MOON
You hid the moon ,
you took away the stars ,
a table for two ?
You had all night to say I was leaving you.
The quill of your pen was all dripping
and wet  ,
a life time of sorrows I would live to regret .
Youre eyes as wide as saucers,
smoke from you're cigar turned my eyes a bleary red .
Youre hair as wild as the forest ,
you're eyes a crystal blue ,
a tapestry of colour,
you always hid from.my view ,
you had all night to tell me ,
how that didn't bother you?

A table of blue you set before me ,
" we can live amongst the stars ,
I will be Jupiter you can be Mars !"

And so you left without me   ,
what will you ever do ?
how could you live without me  ?
Now you're lifes a constant blue .

The moon left the night you left me ,
the stars in hot pursuit,
you had all night to say you were leaving I guess the rose in your glass was misunderstood!

I awoke this fine morning ,
threw open the curtains,
the morning sun caught my eye ,
was that you with that stranger ,
who was just passing by ?
Now my days seem weary
I guess it's hard to understand .

My friend tells me " there is a beauty
with eyes of crystal blue ,
hair like a wild forest should I introduce you ?"
Dec 2019 · 65
Black Friday.
I  have walked for miles through distant shores,
past eroding cliffs that would be seen no more ,
Past temples of stone swept away by the seas ,
seen war Lords brought to their knees . Tanks have rolled past towns  ,
mowed children and their mothers down .
For a slithering tongue is never up to any good   ,
and evil passes by in a blink of an eye ,
and is never understood.

Two dreamers hope for a new day  ,
as time goes by .
Angel's can only dream of paradise ,
as man  digs for gold.

Yet in Christ Jesus we live and are given the rewards of heaven   ,
as the profits told .

So as Christs tomb stone rolled  ,
they came with clay and stone ,
to seal up the holes of the Captains wifes dove tower .

Built so birds could nest in peace  ,
cement the darkness  ,
let light retreat  ,
and the feathers flew when all turned black  .
Then silence reigned when none turned back .

A dove found a sod  ,
above the flooded ground ,
a day when no light or love could be found ,
brought it to an Angel's arms did lay ,
and watched over man unto this day .

One day they turned to stone out of love  ,
they keep their watch as time moves on ,
a sovereign reminder Gods work is not done ,
his judgement is yet to come.
sadly this is a grim tale of old ,
I am unable to log in from my I pad
( error 522
dare my poems grow cold .
By these means thus i write thee,
from a twinkling of my eye  ,
no alas it is from my mobile ,
as the months go on slowly by .

So hp I beseech thee bring back
my harp of gold  ,
give access to my I pad ,
alas the traveller should be locked,
forever in this mobile  ,
the land which time forgot.
I stand alone at my watch ,
amugst the howling winds and seas,
that have raged against this land .
Curupt this anchor held fast ,
for no autumble tide shall keep this watch ,
or seagulls in search of prey ,
circle  ancient mariners lost out at sea .



she whispers “ come “ .
I can hear her amid the seagulls call and the crashing of the waves .              
Is there  no lantern for me to burn so she might rescue me ?

And the rain it falls like sharpened iceicles that whip against my face ,
doth it sting my eyes and bring manacles for me to embrace ?


Yet in days I have waited ,
and the years have gone by ,
do I now stand here alone without hope ,
or a final goodbye?

This ship I await brings only hope to this land ,
of truth my fair maiden ,
out of loyalty grand .
It shall bring peace to this nation if not joy to my heart .
And when it’s anchor hits water should my soul ever depart ?
shortly not for though this waiting brings only sorrow to my eye ,
she still holds up a lantern to my sight ,
as the days have gone by .


My feet are not steady ,
should I stumble and fall ,
and yet I grow weary ,
should the reaper ever call ?


If these waves that are before me should ,
Swollow me hole ,
then my heart on wings must fly out to her
carried on a sceptre of gold .




how the swallow sings so sweetly ,
they pass me by in numbers as my fire burns cold .
For I ...

(. * waves and seagulls. can be heard *)

“. My darling my love “
she cradles me against the seas
“;a kiss as I lay dying ,
her dress ,
abandoned to the seas ,
her  heart cries out ,
as I lay dying .

My flower ,
my little crumb has sailed this stormy sea ,
and now I’m sad to say ,
she has to bury me.
Nov 2019 · 67
Epitaph for the fallen .
I looked on from where we stood ,
beyond the cross and our sense of brother hood .
Beyond the suns rays  that shone on down ,
past mans diety it’s earthly crown .

On to fields so far away ,
where poppies lie still today .
Where brave men fell unto their knees ,
no pomp there is at this dark hour ,
alone our thoughts should mortal dwell .?

Or of Christ Jesus death upon a cross ,
for never was there such a greater loss ,
the sacrifice he gave so man might live beyond our days .

So as the green grass turned to black ,
then red ,
the suns bright glow left a golden bed ,
and a golden stairs on which to climb ,
Up the stairs for the final time .
Close the gate tight shut ,
for Daddy’s come home for lunch .
They came in their droves to remember their  dead ,
the fallen ,
the lives they had lead .
Taken away by a shell to what the cost ?
Innocent lives on their way to hell !

The battle field ,

the mortal dead ,
to live forever in our heads .

To what the cost where freedom lives ,
Our right to walk when we dared not live !

Bereft our watch at the garden gate ,
Daddy’s only running late ,
he’s gone to war ,
be back for tea ,
Bereft the watch that dos’nt bother me !

So the skies darkened clouds stayed away today ,
as if to salute those that had fallen some sunny day ,
where poppies lay ,
In green fields far away .
Those who limbs were blown to kingdom come ,
for the children they will never see ,
before them lies immortality .

For those who did not make it back ,
Who won’t stand in terraces to chear their team ,
to roll cigarette papers and tell their ***** jokes ,
for them the mortal screams .

And now her letters lie forgotten not read ,
forever in a draw underneath her bed .

But Daddy will be home soon she still says to her kids ,
he’s gone to war ,
he will be back for tea ,
You just wait and see .

Ashford s crowds who had gathered to wait two minutes to remember the brave ,
walked their dogs ,
drank plenty of tea ,
and paused their busy lives to Remember thee .
Returned home ,
Shut the gate ,
to remember Joe who just ,
came home late .
Nov 2019 · 63
Ghost love songs .
I had fallen for you ,
but you’re demons got in the way ,
I gave my heart to you ,
but somehow you passed it on by .

So the swollows sang like nightingales in the summer of our love ,
and every eye watched in wonderment from Gods heavens above . .

Then the demons took a sinister look ,
to cast a spell that left a ****** hook .
For feelings danced for a little while ,
and brought to me such a happy a smile .

It was as if a fish hook flew from out of the demons eye  to scewer you as time went by .
You’re heart ran as if I had said ,
I love you let’s make love instead !

And I’m sorry our friendship found such a bitter end,
and the nightingales began to sing so sweetly
and the cockroaches took up their song ,
but that didn’t last very long .

So the flies tried to sing along ,
but their song failed to hit a happy tune .
The rats didn’t want to sing ,
for they couldn’t think of a dafter thing .
And yes I’m sorry it came to this bitter end .

But at least the ghosts came out to play ,
and their songs won’t go away ,
and it’s their songs I sing to this day ,
Ghost love songs of you .
Nov 2019 · 81
How dark the sun
How dark is the sun when you hide you’re smile ,
and the leaves have turned yellow ,
and fall in you’re path as you walk on by .
The  grave yard stones have all shifted not to get in you’re way ,
for even they have seen a happier day .

The seas are all angry their boats tossed like toys ,
Persidens. arms are lifted as a child in his bath tub ,
finds soap in his eyes .

My heart trembles within me and seeks only rest ,
as dark clouds gather and rain falls on you’re breast .

Even the stars i named when the clouds had all gone ,
have left the heavens ,
for even they know something is wrong .
  For even King Johns smile when counting his gold ,
has nothing to you’re frown when all is told !

But when you smile ,
like crimson the stars ,
the sun beams out on sunflower meadows and brings light to you’re
charms .
The trees find their colours all green not turning red ,
and the grave yards lay empty as no one lies dead .
The seas are as quiet as a mill pond in spring ,
for no one has ever seen such a daintier thing .
And my heart now rejoices for you’re tears have all gone .
How lovely the millar who burst out in song .

And yes I still love you what ever you’re refrain ,
and if that grave yard should ever find a happier soul ,
I would gladly join you ,
so you will never feel old again .
I awoke on a cold November’s day ,
where I found a mouse on my bed did it lay .
All snug underneath my quilt ,
asleep .
Did I Nudge or push it to awake from it’s day ?
Did I scream to my mother to take it away ?
For the floor boards were creaking ,
there was a crack where carpet used to lay,
shorly it would be better off under the carpet ,
beneath the floor boards on this cold Autumble day ?
Oh so peaceful did it not rise ?
The cat hasn’t awoken ,
The birds have yet to sing ,
and there was i alone with this mouse under my quilt ! .
Yet in peace did it lay .
l hope the cat dos’nt awake ,
for in its death it may partake ?

It’s now mid day and my Mother’s walked in ,.
to wash my Sheets .
In one fail swoop It flys ,
off from my bed ,
on to the floor boards it now lies
and yes I do now  believe ,
It is now dead !
Oct 2019 · 108
Chicken run
Thursday night is chicken night ,
when all is dark ,
you’re telephone rings at nine .
It rings and rings and rings .
You’re thoughts are kind ,
a helpful heart

For kindness is what it feeds on .
and spits you out like chicken bones ,
untill it’s feathers and blood are all you can see ,
how plesant the poultry!

It stalks the streets as daylight retreats ,
and neon lights are all aglow .

You’re phone rings again ,
then again ,
You pick it up,
You ask who’s there ?
It’s the chicken run that’s all .

You await a knock on you’re door ,
as you lie in you’re bed ,
In silence the clock strikes thee ,
then four .
For you’re heart thumps hard ,
you’re chest explodes ,
You’re blankets stinks in sweat .
For there is a knock on you’re door ,
You’re dreaming once more ,
You can’t tell night from day .


It’s Thursday night ,
It’s chicken night ,
don’t answer you’re phone,
don’t answer the door ,
It’s the chicken run once more.
O rise in me this font of love ,
that I should dwell with thee above ,
that in his name my dwelling place ,
to find his kindness and his grace.

Never to wander or pick a fruit thou asked me not such ill repute .
So I be tempted but by nought ,
or face the Roth such bitter a thought .

O Lord who helpest from above ,
find all in me nothing but love .
Quench the serpents deceitful hand ,
the ace of spades ,
the jack of clubs .

The hood that masks his evil eye ,
that sayes all must perish ,
all must die !

That love is just a falling card ,
with hate on the other side ,
falls fast .
And where it lands our future holds .
All of Satan’s lies .

Hush be still my beating heart ,
for the one I love is home ,
She keeps within her breast a fruit for me picked from a tree ,
it was meant to be ,
fruit from my lovers heart .

A fire is lit ,
a most favourable chair ,do I sit .
My lover knees before me ,
her eyes look into mine ,
this fruit I see before me ,
Is either pure evil ,
or Devine. ?

Yet all this can wait I shall leave a knife by my plate ,
put breath to my candle ,
and find rest in her come to bed eyes .
Oct 2019 · 92
A Deeper Blue .
Pink lipstick you painted on you’re lips today ,
and a smile that never quite went away .
And so you called me by name ,
the least of my prize ,
for what was once dear to me ,
was broken inside .
In my dream we walked as lanterns gave way ,
to the sun by day ,
who no longer had time to play ,
only hide and seek with the moon .

Now the sun gave way to a deeper blue ,
of which only reminded me of you .
You're kiss under a deeper sky ,
on a moonless night that some how never bothered you .

Yet here you are staring into space ,
like you had almost forgotten my face !
and all I wanted was a deeper blue ,
one that could only remind me of ,
you
Oct 2019 · 152
Ghost riders and Angels .
There will be days when the darkness will claim the right ,
of the day ,
to refuse it’s light ,
for in these times when our dying embers burn,
hold fast to love .

There will be days when our bodies ache with all the strains of worldly pain and dark days with all their pleasures are but nought ,
but for now ,
as for now ,
hold fast to love .

Then there are the darkest days in the battle fields the Spectors lies
Seem oh so real ,
you fall once again for his slithery hook ,
but still the cavelry marches on

And we play with sin with cupid  ***** like babies play
with rattlesnakes.

for us this cavalry marches on .
yet we see only ghost riders near when their horses nostrils flair ,
and a frost covers the icey air ,
hold fast to love .

for daylight is oh so near ,
beyond the black clouds that we hold so dear ,
our Cavelry marches on .

For you can’t see what has happened here ,
and all is black and filled with fear ,
you can see no sun ,
or silvey clouds above you’re hill ,
the sun moves ever on .
In your mind all you seek is rest ,
from the ghosts and Spectors you once called guests ,
run .
And so you hear the Cavelry charge ,
the clink of armour ,
the sword ,
the steel ,
50 ,000 angels near ,
In light the sun rises like a King ,
Sword held high ,
the spectors flee but only find light ,
Valor and entegrity rise above their defeated foe .
So as the sun rises to Colours that stretch out the land ,
to crimson blues and golds ,
Gods love marches ever on .
There once lied a sleeping town ,
were no hens layed their eggs on the ground.
There were no carts filled with grain ,
off to the market on this harvest day .

No barking dogs ,
or crying child ,
or cockerels with a **** a doodle dooo !

Just the sound of the church bells ring ,
thankful to God for their harvest of wheat and corn .

Now the.men wore hats ,
the ladies pritty ribbons and bows .
The paster dressed in black ,
a long Cassock with piercing eye.

The congregation had the eyes of lambs ,
cought on every word ,
as nought could be heard .

The sermon was of sobering thought ,
that without Gods help we are but nought .
That angels might open dungeon cells
and the strange old lady down the road ,
dos’nt really consort with the dead ,
or so I’m told !

Now the preacher in black who was so brave ,
closed the Bible with a smile ,
which turned to a frown ,
for there were many souls to save .
“ Go in peace I wish you well ,
for there are many this day bound for hell .

The tins for the needy and the poor were simply stacked ,
with a ribbon and wreath ,
and delivered to open doors ,
even to the lady who didn’t smile ,
who fed the cat remains of ,
what ever lied in the dregs of the soup !

So when the last hymn was sung of poems of old of storms to come ,
and title waves ,
that lead the dead to run back to their graves ,
tea and cake was served to the ladies with ribbons and bows ,
and the gents with hats smoked and rubbed their chins .

Meanwhile an elderly gent waited by the gate ,
he had no friends ,
he didn’t go in ,
but waited for the wind to arrive .

He smiled as the first gust arrived ,
holding onto his hat just the same ,
he turned then walked home again.
Oct 2019 · 117
Untitled
There were no carts with all their merchandise,
no barking dogs ,
or children’s screams ,
for now the village was lost in a sleeping dream .

Just the church bells toll that could be heard for the harvest of souls ,
to thank God for their crops to yeald .
The ladies bonnets ,
the men wore ties ,
the preacher wore black well betide .

The sermon was of sobering thought ,
that without Gods help we are but nought !

That Angels may open dungeon cells ,
and the strange old lady down the road ,
who nobody speaks of ,
Is not as mad as all were told .

Now  the  preacher man who was so brave ,
Who dressed in black with souls to save ,
closed his Bible with a grimise ,
then a smile ,
there are many on their way to hell ,
there is no time to wait ,
I wish you well .

For the tins are stacked all neatly in a pile ,
for the poor and needy ,
and the strange old lady ,
down the road who has a cat ,
or so I’m told .

And so the sweet melodies of heavens songs rendered to thee ,
of storms to come ,
thunder and rain ,
for nothing will be the same again .
For when everything is gathered in only then the storms begin ,
if I may borrow a poem or fable or so I’m told !

An old man waits for the service to end ,
he never goes in ,
he has no friends ,
but loves the hymns and awaits the winds ,
the leaves rustle ,
as  rain drops fall .

He smiles as a gust of wind nearly blows his hat off .
So as autumns leaves start to fall ,
on golden carpets with reddish glow ,
Cold  winds and rains fall
beckon us one and all .
The hosts of God in their heavenly gaze ,
look forever down on Gods earthly parade ,
of expectant souls so close ,
so dear await their heavenly bodies ....

For it was into life you bore me ,
Into earths sun you draw me ,
ever to you’re gardens of delight.

For it was in the gardens of pleasure we roamed ,
amid the Crystal fountains and pillars of marbel and gold .

You gave me love ,
you gave me light ,
You gave me every pleasure my heart could hold ,

warm was the day ,
cool was the night ,
yet you’re simple pleasures were too much for me to behold .

For I cried out for the cool of the night in the heat of the day ,
yet craved for the warmth of the sun ,
when the moon went away .

So like Satan I fell on insergent wings took flight ,
down down I fell much to Satan’s pure delight,
further and further away from the sun ,
to the dust of the earth .
My insurgent wings that once gave flight ,
are now my only shelter to the beating rains ,
on this God forsaken night .


The only food I have found ,
are the bones of man left in this hole in the ground ,
for there are creatures here bereft of skin ,
for here lies the remains of every man here within .

There is no light ,
no love just fear ,
for I have no idea what has happened here ?
Here i am hungry,
naked and cold
In the light of the sun my dreams have turned old .

Then a light from the sun I saw from afar ,
It’s beam ,
brought warmth to my skin ,
gave flesh to my bones ,
and on the wings of Christ Jesus alone ,
brought me back home ,
as love and light took to flight ,
Light and love went home .
Oct 2019 · 245
Untitled
I. Am back wahoooooh thank you h p x
Sep 2019 · 137
Devils bones .
The devil came a knocking ,
he just won’t go away ,
I told him it’s past bedtime,
and a prayer is on its way .

Yet still  he rattles his bones at my door ,
of souls he once cought  ,

and doesn't bother anymore.

Yet here am I all alone ,
with an eye for all the ladies and pritty young girls .

With their chandlers they bring ,
to ply me with drink .
For in their music halls they sing .
Sordid songs for a shilling and six ,
and dance on the tables champagne in one hand ,
conducting the choir ( with the other ) .

Now mr Charrington a Godly sacred man preaching the Lord ,
the best he can .
Yet the devils bones have still much more to say ,
about the ladies charms that seem here to stay .

So the moral be ( if there be one to tell )
follow the devils bones ,
one way to hell !
But if virtue I hold how honoured I might be ,
to know the king of love Christ Jesus ,
eternally .
And bless the ones that to this day ,
find virtue ,
and goodness be ,
with Christ Jesus eternally .

And O that old devil may rattle his bones across the gate of his grave
yard all on his own ,
just one thing I pray ,
you won’t turn the light off ,
and leave me alone .
.
Sep 2019 · 53
The Dance .
In a field of pure delight I watched the leaves ,
lifted by the wind ,
dance !
Like girls with daisies in their hair ,
held hands without due care ,
run around their play ground ,
laughing and shouting.
Faster they run ,
round and around ,
untill like leaves they fell to the ground .
As the wind died ,
then picked up again ,
the leaves took to flight and the girls danced again .
Untill scattered to all corners of a field ,
whistling,
howling
chased by boys ,
who stole their dolls away ,
like dogs in a field let off their leash ,
in the middle of the day .
Then  just like leaves ,
to the tolling of a bell ,
were swept inside ,
never ,
to be seen again .
Sep 2019 · 76
Stories for bed time
On this  bed I lay ,
as my loved ones weep ,
I wait for what use is my body now for ,
God has my very soul .

Two doors await ,
one where Ivy creeps ,
and no handel can be found ,
the other warm and inviting and bells to charm the sound .

Yet here am I stripped of my soul ,
awaiting a body ,
or so I am told .

My soul wrenched as if it were Gods will ,
that I should wait in judgement as the sun burns still .

and the. Skies turn purple and yellow and gold ,
and slips silently beyond the earth or,
so I am told .

There are no fluffy clouds for me ,
no mystery of cosmic space ,
lost in reality ,

this is life ,
and death ensue ,
heaven and hell ,
the preacher stands ,
the fallen truth of modern man.

Earthly shadows wait  ,
for at last this world with all its jazz ,
falls silent as only it can ,
and God who sees the mortal soul stands before us one and all .

O the one they mock you say ,
In fairy stories on children’s knees ,
has a key ,
to all those who believe.

For that son now in glory found ,
with gates to heaven abound ,
and all that’s left is without Christ ,
no hope ,
or love ,
or sacrifice.
Sep 2019 · 151
The Moth .
The moth without a sound ,
fell unmercifully to the ground ,
Slayed by giants his fate ,
for all he did was to irritate !

Like King Kong did he fall ,
looked upon by man who stood tall ,
the hand of. whome  like from helicopters bullets

did he fall ,
one of God’s finest creatures laid low ,
the eco systems weeps here below .

They looked at him an insect dead on the ground ,
Mocked and scorned ,
Swotted and death resound  ,
it never made it to a butterfly!
Alas it’s tiny wings will never fly ,
or polonate the flowers of earth ,
or eat the leaves ,
or rest in dark places no man could ever find ,
or dance before the light ,
the moths one and only pure delight .

Only thanks to man ,
who was so unkind .
So God realises the moth from his
earthly domain to replenish the earth again ,
all thanks  to man who smothered
the flame .
For death resides in freielty ,
a fallen world man bends the knee ,
In somber remedy cometh to thee .
Sep 2019 · 246
9The Ivy Tower .
When I were Just a lad ,
my uncle used to say ,
as we all walked in the grounds of the gnoll ,
on any hot summers day .
“;there beyond the trees ,
above that starry mount ,
far above an ivy tower you must reach to find you’re love .”

So far that tower seems ,
even to this day ,
past a rabbits foot that lied alone our way ,
how steep was our climb to that tower far away ,

O ld ruins filled with moss and ivy where only
couples lay ,
where the moons and suns that lit up the night ,
seem so far away .

Where lovers lost and without due care find their abandonment ,
only there .
Where parties of guests once ate to great delight ,
In honour of their lords who summoned the night .

So as we approached so near was the sound ,
of people laughing all around ,
for what was once a burnt out shell ,
now found lights and happiness to dwell .
Where fine wine was drunk in copious amounts ,
and the ladies Flornted their wares to any passing gentleman around.

Yet as soon as the sun rose to touch those ivy hills ,
the lights grew dim ,
a morning chill snuffed out the lights ,
untill all was still .
The  people left without a sound ,
like a ghosts of love I find all around dim and distant ,
there is no doubt .
As I looked back amugst the braken and Brooke’s ,
to ruins above me ,
a woman waves to me with smiling cheeks ,
‘ goodbye ‘ said she ,” it’s been fun “
My uncle turned to and said , “ What were you looking at “ ?
“ Nothing said I for love is just for dreamers who just
happen to walk by “ .
Now amugst the crashing of the waves ,
and the calls of seagulls true and brave ,
Iying in the sea ,
about to take a nap ,
lies a sea turtle enjoying the tankards sailing by ,
as the afternoon sun rises to meet its cloudless blue ,

all of a sudden without due thought ,
or care ,
or a tidderly doo   ,
for if he had ,
would not have bothered you .
A brown ***** who had flown off course looked for direction,
from the shell of a sea turtles back .

.” Excuse me my friend I’m taking a nap ,
Please be so kind not to sit on my back “

The ***** bird said nothing in reply ,
not a swork ,
or an eek or a  “ soon ile be back “

For the rain forests are burning ,
and the skies are filled with smoke ,
and the seas are filled with plastic ,
and I’m ready to croak “
To be honest dear turtle I don’t give a dam ,
I’m looking for trees that form some dry land ,”
for all I can see ,
are tankards filled with oil ,
and cans and plastic in the sea  man can’t destroy “

Look said the turtle whom just wanted to rest ,
The Greta fleet are sailing to harbours to save ,
whist world leaders shut parliament,
ready to dig out our graves .
Oh look there goes a wet wipe ,
a can of empty coke ,  
takeaway cartons ,
an empty bottle with a note ,
* please if found return to shore ,
the ***** bird picked it up ,
then threw it back once more ,
said “ romance is dead “
for the little girl waiting won’t ever write back .


For at the end of the night  ,
when all have gone home in search of a better day ,
Fly tippers leave their waste on toxic land to decay ,
and we breath in their fumes as best we can .
Aug 2019 · 138
Posies and poses .
Would you even notice the quietus in my heart ?
It forms an empty shell that’ longs to depart .
A dinner guest who’s eyes are dead
who’s memories are but a floral death in you’re bed .
for all you’re sweet poses ,
and eyes that twinkle ,
brought nothing but lies .
For inside i have died
like you’re words are lost
In caves in my mind
their echoes of thoughts still run dear .

The door quietly closes ,
my clock strikes on the hour ,
and sweet are you’re posies ,
curtsys and smiles,
for. Youre  bed of lavender ,
holds sinister smiles .
Yet I’m alone with all these thoughts inside my head .
for you aren’t around to sweeten the blow ,
since you left an hour ago .

For blessed is the night when sleeps shadows awake ,
and take my minds away from this place .

Set a place you’re dinner guest is here,
a ghost in a shell empty and cold draw near .
For I will go to hell in this burnt out shell ,
and laugh so friends can hear ,
then turn off the light ,
and sleep untill you are near .
There’s bird poo on my window ,
It’s been there a while ,
I’m wondering what the bird was thinking ,
was it personal?
Did it smile ?
Was it a gift a reminder I’ll be back ?
Could he not wait .
Were his feathers singed and black ?
Did he fly up to
those blue skies soaring ,
unto the sun to find love ?
Was he hungry at the time ,
or had he just  eaten ?
for my tea is at the table ,
I fear it’s too late ?
Did the cruel winds just blow it off track ?
Was he fighting for freedom against the magpie or the jay ?
Did it see it’s reflection in my window ,
then fly away ?
For what ever reason ,
that bird still sings it’s song ,
first thing in the morning,
before the blackbird can sing along .
Before tea is set in my front room ,
I’ll still leave a knife and fork for thee ,
so he can sit along beside me and keep me company.

Then i heard a soft thud on my window ,
again again and again ,
the noise just would not stop .
I drew the curtain to one side ,
to see my bird against the Paine .
I opened my window,
and in it flew ,
for it was hungry just the same ,
pulled up a napkin and there we were ,
going insane.!
Aug 2019 · 129
Time for tea ll
This evening as i sat down for tea ,
a fly uninvited ,
followed me .
On my chips it sat ,
but not for very long ,
for in a twinkle of my eye ,
it had gone !

Was I too harsh ?  
Or was I just too up tight ?
For if it had eaten my salad ,
I would have wondered all night .

Only without a further thought ,
or a twiddly doo ,
the fly brought a friend ,
now there were two .

“ Just in time for tea said I ,
for if the spider can’t catch you why should I ?

I didn’t expect any more at my table ,
but as his friend sat on my peas as more as able ,
a third
then a forth ,
then too many to count ,
all flying and buzzing ,
around ,
like I was their best friend in the house .
Aug 2019 · 237
Time for tea .
Butter scotch ,
Candy floss ,
the girls make jam tarts then eat them .

They feast on cream cakes ,
or what ever mother bakes ,
and pray the devil bird won’t eat them .
For Janet swings and sings ,
as the seat creeks and groans ,
all alone ,
before bed and home ,
she prays the devil bird won’t eat them .

So along comes Johnny who lost his lolly ,
he  always cries before tea ,
and loves to give Janet a push ,
so gently .
“ Harder Johnny harder ,
Push me up towards the skies “
“ I can’t push you any harder Janet ,
you might fall and graze you’re knee ?

“ Jam tarts floss butterscotch candy ,
Cream scones and chocolate cake ,
trifle and jelly ,
Come children time for tea “ .


Now Johnny went to look for his lolly which he had dropped upon the floor,
The sun heard a squawk ,
and flapping ,
afraid he hid behind a cloud .
Afraid to look ,
above all other things ,
the sun asked the cloud ,
who just couldn’t contain his sorrow ,
bursting dam ,
cracked open ,
like a skin fit to burst ,
came feeding time for the bird !

A swinging chair ,
alone in the air ,
creeped and swung less slowly ,
then stopped .
for tea time was over ,
and the children went out to play again .
Aug 2019 · 671
The Black Lotus flower ll
Faster and faster we ride ,
past the woods and firn and pine ,
untill a tree of rings of love ,
bound us together ,
their branches with a crackle and thud .
Down we fell
further down ,
entwined entangled unexplainable love ,
like a whirl pool our two bodies entwined ,
wrapped together for eternity ,
untill beatle fungi , or man ,
Shall choose to **** us ,
or let us be

And so the years of winter ,
Summer , spring ,
our tree dies and gives us birth again ,
Saplings have grown as we grow old ,
birds have nested in our branches ,
ants, bees , flies flees , and butterflies,
have Passed us by ,
without a hoot or a cry ,
and yet ,
the gull rust passes us by .
O  my lady O  ,
can you see the white carnations all coiled for spring ,
for they remind me ,
You are the  most beautiful thing .
O lady o ,
my rides of late hath seemed lonely out there ,
amugst the tall pines ,
the firn and the breeze ,
untill I saw you’re face ,
you brought love to me .

You smiled once as I rode near ,
I waved back ,
you were so dear ,
and if it wasn’t God in all his glory that placed you there ,
was it Satan came to temp me ,
to draw blood from my very sight ?

For I have rode in evenings light past forests as dark as the night ,
through fern and pine tree tall and dark ,
You called me out as a champagne bottle just past me by .
For now I have seen the colours of evening as vast as youre breast ,
you’re turrets are tall and fair ,
you’re battlements of burning  red ,
You’re cannons linstock lit .
You’re hair as black as the Lotus flower ,
which poison fills the air this very hour
and grow in you’re grounds beautiful and rare .

I will blow a kiss to you this night ,
even if the winds that howl ,
let their spirits deceive,
for this night shall you’re turrets will tumble ,
you’re battlements breached without due care
You’re cannons with no flint to fire ,
you’re broken bottle held tight to my chest ,

For this night through firn and flower ,
dainty white carnations shall I pick for you ,
as we ride two by two .

This night I shall ride faster than any knight ,
to chase the sun untill there is no light ,
to gaze upon ,

...
yet you have left,
I lift my eyes to where you stood ,
with a bottle of champagne,
I drink ,
to you my dear ,
My ever ,
Beating,
Heart .
Jul 2019 · 1.1k
The Black Lotus flower
O lady o ,
When I first saw you ,
you’re beauty was it not plucked like a carnation Gods gardens of delight ?
Or had the snake who saw you stand there ,
so to draw blood from my very sight ?
For I have ridden in dark forests by day ,
past pine ,
and firn
for even they could never draw out the love in you’re eyes ,
or the tender way you’re White carnations flew on by .

The sunset with its colours as vast as you’re breast ,
I have awaited every hour of every day ,
and there you are ,
You’re turrets tall and fair  youre  battlements  boast  of ore and steel ,
You’re cannons lit it’s flintlock poised ,

You’re hairs as black as the Lotus flower that gives its scent unto
the night ,
and grows all around you’re turrets so rare .


I will blow a kiss to you this evening ,
for the wind may howl ,
let its spirits deceive ,
this night you’re cannons I shall disarm ,
You’re turrets dismantle ,
you’re battlements besiege.
As for you’re carnations ,
shall I hold tight to my chest ?



For this night our bodies will entwine ,
as the firn and the pine ,
the bark and the yoke ,
to chase the sun ,
past forest glades,
gallop ,
as you hold my thighs ,
together we shall ride ,
Side by side .



This night we shall call our own lost in the pine forest ,
firn and flower .
For are they not dainty ones I shall pick for you this hour .

Then as the last rays of light called it a night ,
and the vast reds in all their array ,
could not stop my tears ,
one white carnation on the ground ,
without a note ,
quite profound ,
an empty space where you once stood ,
lies now a block of wood .

And I still mount thus every night ,
Galloping hopeless in faintest light ,
as faster than any knight ,
to gaze to where you once stood ,
for with thy white carnations must lie
my forever ,
beating ....
heart .
.
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