Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Joe Fogg Nov 2011
Senses
Sense
Scent
Sensual
Allure
Arouses
Desire
Fires
Passionate­
Lust
Joe Fogg Oct 2011
The day will never be forgotten
In the hearts of those who loved him
It was a normal day
In the heart of the young man
Who was later to be guided by his own destiny

The light blue Vauxhaul stands unscathed
As the dismantled scooter lies in its grave
Its rider lies in lands unknown
His spirit lives on in the eyes
Of those who have known

The darkest day arrives
Look upon the shadowy mist of their eyes
His Mother, Father, Brothers & Sisters
Did not foresee or dare to believe
That one so young, could die so cruel

Out of life he wanted not much
Just the feeling of certainty, security and love
His girlfriend of so long
Once shared these hopes with him
But now she stands pondering oh distant memories

His younger brother tries so disparingly
To shake off his tears of sadness
But his fondness and memories of him,
Beat hard in his shock filled heart
He shares with those who new him best
The joys and sorrows of his past

Twenty years is not long enough for man
To fulfill his dreams
He has foreseen so indearly
Too cruel to take away such life, hope and heart
Look upon the shattered faces of those around
Brings sadness to the hearts
Of those who knew him not

To say that he will be forgotten is scorned upon
His life, spirit and soul
Is engraved in the hearts of those who knew him
Mark Frederick Hitchen now lies peacefully in his own tranquility of solitude

And as we always remember
To live in the hearts we leave behind
Is not to die
His spirit listens intently

To think that no-one will ever harm him again
But we love and miss him all the same

Rest In Peace
I received this from a girl, 26 years ago, following the passing of the passing man - Mark Hitchen, aged 20. Recently uncovered as I trawled through some old 'stuff'. Should the world do its magic and anyone know this girl who befriended Mark and comforted him through his torment at the injustice of unrequited love. She was tall and blonde and probably around 18 years of age. I think she may have lived in Liscard, Wallasey, Merseyside. Written unedited from the original raw outpouring, the need to externalise that which hurts inside. Thanks Hello Poetry for giving new generations the opportunity for their thoughts to be shared and not put in boxes, that gather dust in the dark recesses of our minds.
Joe Fogg Oct 2011
Up to the North
Down to the South
Keep the ships feeding
The big Mersey's mouth

14 big docks
And 19 big stops
Dad's got big hands
He works at the 'Brock'

He's seen Alexandra
And Nelson too
He passes the Princes
On the way to the 'Loo

Jump off at the Sandon
For a bevvy with Joe
Saturday's half day
To the match he will go

The merchants at Toxteth
Are rubbing their hands
There's money in shipping
And at Seaforth Sands

Jump off at Pier Head
If yer wearing a shirt
Stay on till Herculaneum
To get covered in dirt

The EMUs keeping rolling
From morning til night
Our dockers umbrella
What a beautiful sight

copyright/all rights reserved Joe Fogg 2011
This, another in the Mersey Rhymes, series recalls Liverpool's overhead railway. It recalls the station names and hints at the long standing passion for football. EMU = Electric Multiple Units - the worlds first railway carriages that did not need a locomotive - now the world standard for Mass Transit Systems.
Joe Fogg Oct 2011
Mersey Ferry, Mersey Ferry,
Go across the sea,
Take them a Daffodil,
Take them an Iris,
Tell them I love them
And tell them I care
Return them back safely
And you shall be queens
So, go bring my loved ones
Back home to me

copyright/all rights reserved Joe Fogg 2011
A simple rhyme in a new series I'm writing and invite people to add to. This one recalls how the Mersey Ferries became 'Royal' (e.g. the Iris became, the Royal Iris, as with the Daffodil) following their involvement in the evacuation from France following the failed invasion. The style is intended to be used with skipping games.
Joe Fogg Oct 2011
I went to a temple
They call a retreat
Monks put on robes
And walk in bare feet
I love what they're teaching
And their shaven haired looks
I so want those robes
To attachment I'm hooked

copyright/all rights reserved Joe Fogg 2011
Joe Fogg Sep 2011
When we are needy
The greedy feed easy
When we just please
We are easy to tease

Seeking approval
Is responsibility removal
Who's approval do I need?
To make the choice to succeed

Feeling displeased
Like feeling dis-ease
It leads to disease
That leads to decease

Seeking to blame
The simplest game
Avoiding a responsibility
For my own possibility

Choosing my emotion
Without the commotion
Didn't choose the inference
But I do own the response

Anger like coal
Burns who it holds
Vengeance a slave
So dig it two graves

No need to accept
No need to reject
No need to adore
No need to abhor
No need to be needy
So, needy no more

copyright/all rights reserved Joe Fogg 2011
Joe Fogg Sep 2011
Darkness touches window panes
And seeps right through the walls
Traveling back from years ago
With secrets it still recalls

Stillness stirs and senses tingle
With fingers along the spine
Imagining its an angel's voice
Or something less divine

Whispered words fill the silence
And within these walls it gathers
Touches and then passes through
Right through these earthly tethers

Turning keys in unlocked doors
A past existence now returns
Bygones can't be bygones
Whilst the past for justice yearns

Searching down the line for years
Looking for the chosen
To overcome their worldly fears
So the holding can be broken

To hear the voices from times passed
And secrets that must release
The tapestry of lies unmasked
So the past can live in peace


copyright/all rights reserved Joe Fogg 2011
Do you sometimes get the sense that someone / something, perhaps unearthly is trying to communicate?
Are there spirits are walking abroad?
Next page