As poppies drip blood red petals
Among the fields where souls do roam
A silenced voice, away from home
Buried deep with twisted metals

Khaki men, are dead and rotting
As poppies drip blood red petals
Overgrown with rats and nettles
Men and women stood reflecting

A resting place to end the fight
In peaceful slumber they settle
As poppies drip blood red petals
Weathered cadavers all bleached white

Depressions fade, vista settles
Bodies and branches both stripped bare
Once passionate men, showed they care
As poppies drip blood red petals.

© 27/6/2012

Those little words you easily  forget
is frustrating, causing  you to shout
as confusion reigns, your memory won’t let,
your lips allow the words to come out
old age is not what this is about

Your eyes are roomy and just stare
into the distance but, do not weep
our hands are helpless but they are there
to hold and comfort you and want to keep
a once active brain from an early sleep

Our life in pictures spread on the floor
hoping to bring a smile, or just a grin
though selfish me, I long for more
undeserving pain is ****** on him
as the one I married is deep within

The days of the week are all the same
night melts into day as life ticks by
though in my sleep ,I cry your name
hoping, mine, I will hear you try
as one day soon we will say goodbye.

The poppies; Blood Red
The grief is real
We stand and salute
Those that fell
Bells echo around the land
Till the hour strikes
We line up and listen to
A Silent Concert.

My mistrust, I suppose, stems from a youth,
full of, child like dreams, hopes and wanting.
To stand on sturdy branches, only to have them felled
From beneath your feet. Words spoken with…feeling
Lulling you, Yet entwined with, half-truths and lies.

Like roaming into a dark forest. The child is innocent,
Seeking those long forgotten heroes, who fought
Gallant battles on snow White horses, whose hoof-marks
Are just glistening pools of water. The adult weary of,
Lurking dangers, who…should protect. Not join in.

Call it what you will, they are still foreign words
Spoken from an English tongue, framed in an English smile
You learn, slowly, that things are not always what they seem
Escaping, may seem impossible. The forest is not impenetrable
The wooden gate may be locked, but there is always a stile nearby.

Seconds drag like years. Stuck in a silent mist.
My mind like a “For Sale” sign, tethered
Constrained.  An occasional sway in a breeze,
Resulting in an unoccupied state of mind.

An unbearable feeling of uselessness
Stemming from a grimy background
From which no answers can be elicited
The Blackboard has been erased forever

Locked doors and high walls mean,
Therapy is only good for the Therapist!

That; that was once ingrained, is lost
Danger lies ahead, lurking in the shadows
Waiting for the right moment to strike.
                                      A silent killer.

This; that gnaws at my brain, is without
Doubt, slowly killing me. Extruding life.
My head hurts. My soul is broken.

I have forgotten how to laugh
I have forgotten how to whistle

I don’t want this death!

It is without doubt easier to **** them
Dig a big hole in the garden and bury them.
Saves money on a funeral… but
Where would be the heroism in that?

It’s not their fault they are old, or
Mine that I am young.
It’s not his fault he has dementia, or mine!
Her patience is wearing thin.

He sometimes forgets to take his tablets
I, could forget to leave them out for him
(I have always liked his car)

Opinion is, we are all living longer
The undertakers need the work
Leaders have stopped leading, workers
Have started living,     “Stop Press”
The death columns in our daily
Newspapers are empty.

They have fought wars, struggled
Eventually, they will fall silent.

No-one will ever believe me
Simply because, I never mention it

Next to you as you sleep
I listen to your breathing

Even in the darkened room
Your Blue eyes still glisten

My hands follow your line of breath
In which I write the word….Love.

The high rise apartments dominate the night sky
Shadows fall, where darkness has already laid claim
People scurry. Passing each other daily, yet strangers
Irreverent dreams hang where clouds once drifted
Above the rooftops, sounds of Elgar emanate in the
Still air. Drifting slowly towards the masses, inviting
Them to stop and listen, and maybe illicit a smile.

Stretch marks are just ~~~~~ love lines of your stomach

Primroses bow their heads as if laden with early morning dew, while
The sinking sun, across the North rise, casts a shadow of your face,
Into the cold dark copse;   No goddess or girl.  Ashen.
The path you used to wander, lies covered in memories of Yesterday
Here, we spent our youth amongst natures beasts and bugs,
Collecting Butterflies and conkers from the Ancient Horse Chestnut, and
Where the river crosses between the pines we sat, and planned
Somewhere here I look for answers…. Silence rains down.... Thoughts,
Trampled by giant grief. Skeletons remain, drawing deeper into darkness
Birds hush, the air drips with sadness. In the past I have lost keys
Now I have lost half of my DNA. My world has suddenly become smaller
Consequently I am braver in the daytime, night time extenuates my cowardice
It is easy to fall in love with grief, it’s surroundings and demeanour
It was over almost as fast as it had begun.  Where now?  What now?
Tomorrow I shall tell myself that life must go on, that she is with God,
Watching over us. Today I tell myself…Tomorrow never comes…

Ghoulish knock on door
A trick or treat dilemma
Strangers bearing gifts

The stone steps are worn away with time
        Bridging
The gap between mistakes and regret
Faces reflected in a Silver moon
Above, stars dripping with morning rain
            A Rainbow path leads to the
Crushed bones of our Ancestors
Faint drops of blood are all that remain
Bare trees stand, where our proud homes
                            Once stood
Jade Blue water, no longer Red
Words … choke in my throat
Our cups are full of proud tears
Stained glass memories!

A flash of Red hair
Hacking her way to the top
Suddenly silent

Compulsive liars
Forever speak with forked tongues
Ends with knife in back.

Mirrors of Memories

Standing in pools of regret?
Being tormented? By your image,
Still leaves my heart beating, yet
I live by memories alone.

Being tormented by your image
Reliving a past, lost life
I, live by memories, alone
Keeping measured feelings, inside

Reliving a past lost life?
Faded memories fleeting thoughts,
Keeping measured feelings inside!
I am happy, to spend my days

Faded memories, fleeting thoughts
Still leave my heart beating yet!
I am happy to spend my days
Standing in pools of regret!

Ripples

Suns rays on water
Iridescently shining
Reflecting life’s prisms

Warm hands

Your hands were always warm
Very taciturn
They would slowly caress my
Body


Feeling every inch


Like the blind man reading
A strangers face

Now the landscape is bleak
My skin silent and cold


Your hands were always warm.

People said I always spoke out of turn
So over time I decided to learn
To stop interrupting
But my jaw is busting
Now my voice is desperate to return

The Ever Winding Wall

I have given up counting sheep
Instead, I count the stones in the
Granite wall, all hand built by

Men and boys, boys and men all
Toiling in weather I can only imagine
Hands as cold as a North pole trek

Backs breaking, brows sweating
Living a life I secretly admire
Strong arms, focused concentration

On the tiny pebbles, grey unappealing
But maintaining a way of life
A life some would never give up

Each generation learning that secret
Skill, to keep animals in and enemies out
Till finally, those same granite stones cover

Their weather torn, but proud bodies
As they lay in a well earned sleep
Lain by the next pair of strong hands.

The ice Bucket

I have an ice bucket…no ice
It is full of corks…Champagne
One for each special occasion
Times when we laughed and
toasted others…children, friends
It’s time to order more Champagne, and
A bigger ice bucket.

I computer

Woken, I push my start button and reboot to the shower
For breakfast a bowl of italics, **** no milk, memory needs upgrading
Then to my automated job in my automated life
My thoughts are in word ,then filed in documents
My moods change with every toolbar, features and characters
I choose daily from my vast database
At 8.59 and 58 seconds precisely I am surfing
That vast blackness of space, I am never alone
Our names are inscribed on the dark side of the moon
On the super highway at full throttle of 32mb
My attention was distracted by a **** blue from clip art
Suddenly I did not see a stationary font (size 28)
After the crash they laid me out on a spreadsheet
My life deleted, my soul sent to the recycle bin.

How

How much destruction is done by war?
How many times have we heard no more?
How many lives overall must be lost?
How many times do we count the cost?
How can we make them aware they’re not trying?
How can we stop the innocent from dying?
How can we get this government out?
How can they not hear us shout?
How can we make our voices heard?
How can we show, some of us cared?
How can we show them we want action now?
STAND UNITED FOR PEACE!  That’s how!

Into the night sky

Into the night sky; I watch the stars, shooting
I see my dreams; chasing; I hear your voice, fading
My thoughts rest ; naked ,on the third star to the left
Stillness, darkness, my life now the same.
You were my world, my life, my guiding light
My shining star. Your smile as broad as the milky way
You brought light were there were only shadows.

The last Christmas tree of summer

The heat was uncomfortably hot
Two knocks still no answer, no choice now
After forcing the door, the hall full of post
A thin layer of dust lay on his photo, an uneasy silence
In the kitchen a half empty *** of tea , no cup
In the living room stood a Christmas tree
Undressed , lifeless , its branches touching the floor
Upstairs on the bed lay his remains
Undressed , lifeless , his fingers touching the floor
Still holding the tea cup.

We are all born slaves

It is only through deprivation and humiliation, that leads to our status in life

Like the pugilist, fighting his corner, standing toe to toe, staring his  adversary
in the eyes, he is no less brave than the soldier fighting his corner, firing missiles
into a distant dark bloodied night.

No matter how magnanimous they try to be , with defeat comes humiliation,
Both brave, both soldiers, both slaves.

Peace comes through deprivation, which leads to violence, through which comes
Peace.. Eventually, sometimes fragile, sometimes eternal, for those who do not make it
back home, slaves to a belief.

Poison

You; Like a volcano
Erupting
Spewing out your venom

Silhouettes

Come; cried the woods
Come; cried the wind
Into the dark night.

The dark silent statues
with fingers grasped tightly
squeezing out the evil air, out
of it’s roof like mouth

Words frozen as they emerge
drifting silently amongst
those who listen. The chosen few
screeching from blood
Red throats. Baying for more

Winters grasp is closing down
Life and leaves are stripped bare
the summer that once was ours
is held in a sealed envelope
and fruitless amongst the unkissed bark
to settle among the Blue and Black.

Venus in Boots

You scared others, but me! Attracted
By what I’m not sure, your hair, eyes, hips.
Maybe it was the *** noodle you were having for lunch

My modern day Venus: behind the beauty counter at Boots
Head and shoulder above everybody else,
Even though you were only five foot two

I was captivated by your beauty, our eyes met
Then gazing at your full red lips, hearing those
Immortal words, “can I help you sir”.
It was at that moment I realised I do need help.

Nights and days I dreamed of Venus in Boots
I longed , not for her body, but her heart.
You in your twenties me in my seventies
The odds were not in my favour.

Slowly a relationship formed
You let me hold your hand, smell your neck
No kissing: I bought you things
Earrings , jeans, you asked what colour
I could not resist. Blue!

We went for walks , town, country, seaside
The waves crashed. My heart had already crashed
Totally besotted. Even though it was all one sided
I was blissfully happy!

As I paddled, I felt tired. As the tide ebbed
So did my life. My final thoughts were of my
Venus in blue jeans, in Boots.