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May 2015 · 296
Life in the clichés…
Joe Wilson May 2015
It is what it is, a mantra of mine
And doing ones best and all will be fine
But life gets too complex and it no longer sticks
Somethings are frightening, too frightening to fix.

Many times you see, a solution’s not there
You just have to struggle because life is unfair
So you carry on regardless and accept the harsh fate
And pray for the answer before it’s far too late.

At the end of the day it is what it is
Answers came too late and you lost your fizz
Dejected and penniless you’re now on your own
Down in the gutter of life all, alone.

©Joe Wilson – Life in the clichés…2015
May 2015 · 235
Emptiness…
Joe Wilson May 2015
Down came the rain
The world started weeping
I only felt pain
It was more than just sleeping.

Beat, beat, beat, beat
It stopped
My whole life ceased
You had gone away.

I cannot live alone
My frail heart cries
I find I’m on my own
A part of me just…dies.

©Joe Wilson – Emptiness…2015
May 2015 · 396
Man v man...
Joe Wilson May 2015
Why does Man so burden man
By treating man so badly
Does Man just sit and shake his head
And watch those vulnerable, sadly.
Man should rise and take the strain
To ease the suffering of man
For Man has power within his grasp
To do all that he can.

Those Men may hold the power
Those Men do have the wealth
But every five long years or so
The man moves you round with stealth.
For man is the real Puppet-master
Man just a mean Punchinello
And when it gets right down to the point
Man is corruption’s bedfellow.

As Man feasts at the table
Another man goes broke
Uncaring Man pollutes the air
While another man must choke.
Despite the wealth that Man has though
Man creates austerity
Yet man becomes a greater man
Than Man can ever be.

©Joe Wilson – Man v man…2015
May 2015 · 523
Hills of Staffordshire…
Joe Wilson May 2015
In wandering o’er these Staffordshire hills
Hills so green with long valleys deep
Deep below where the waters seep
Seep as rills and streams to flow.

Flow the streams down hillside falls
Falls in cracks from glaciers formed
Formed in Ice Age afore land warmed
Warmed enough for all to grow.

Grow and age in beauty shaped
Shaped by wind and sun and rain
Rain that fills the rivers deep
Deep and flowing to the sea.

Sea surrounds this isle of ours
Ours to love and care for well
Well we may like salty sea
Sea you keep, its streams for me.

Me and all of nature’s joy
Joy for all the world to see
See yourself our tree-filled hills
Hills of home I’m wandering in.

© Joe Wilson – Hills of Staffordshire…2015
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
Thinking back yet again to my childhood
And the shoelace I couldn’t quite fasten
To the many ways Mum used to help me
With those little skills parents pass on.
Six children to love and she really did
She would though, she was our Mum
As well as soothing our often cut knees
She cooked all the  food for our tum.
She’d **** our socks and wash our clothes
And iron things we don’t iron now
Then all of it would just disappear into drawers
As if done by magic somehow.
But Mum didn’t have it anyway easy
Dad died at just fifty-two
And Mum struggled on and raised us alone
But at night-time she cried, we all knew.
As the new day began there would be not a sign
Of the heartache her nights brought to her
She got on with the task of raising her brood
To her feelings she’d rarely refer.
Dad had grown vegetables to feed us
He grew dahlias for my mother, his love
They’ve both been long gone now from this place
Now they stroll hand in hand up above.

©Joe Wilson – When Mum darned our socks…2015
Apr 2015 · 6.2k
Riding a bike with my dad...
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
I’m thinking now of my childhood
Of Dinky toys and a bright shiny trike
I travelled for miles going nowhere
On that beautiful three-wheeled bike.
It even had a boot on the back
Like a bread bin between the wheels
That I used to fill with books and toys
Only opened to best friend’s appeals.
The bike was bright red and I loved it
I raced round on it every day
Until that time when I was just too big
And the bike was taken away.
I missed that old red tricycle
It had been my companion for a while
But the two-wheeled cycle that Dad got
Soon turned my lips up in a smile.
It was a second-hand bike and quite grown-up
Hand-painted the darkest maroon
And I rode it for miles, this time with my dad
But it’s fun-giving days went too soon.
My next bike was blue, and a racer
Derailleur gears numbered ten
I wanted to ride out again with my dad
But he’d cycled his last before then.
My dad rode a bike for the whole of his life
Yet he never reached fifty-three
When I’m on a bike now, cycling along
I think of him riding with me.

©Joe Wilson – Riding a bike with my dad…2015
Apr 2015 · 438
dum vita est spes est…
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
Mental absorption tires
As life continually inspires
Info grabbed for added strength
Keeping dotage at arms length.
Thinking thoughts for thinking’s sake
Mind in action as we wake
Reading books, writing words
Digging gardens, watching birds.
Adding grist to our brains mill
To keep on going we’ve the will
Brains reluctant to slow down
Till body’s stuck beneath the ground!!

©Joe Wilson – dum vita est spes est…2015
Apr 2015 · 385
Only the brave...
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
There were so many of them, and they were so ill
But he was a nurse and he went of free will
Into the heart of Ebola-filled houses
Full of sick husbands and children and spouses.
In extraordinary suits that covered the body
With death a reward for doing it shoddy
They covered up everything one’s eye could see
This image is of courage to people like me.
But if you should think that it wasn’t too bad
Let me dispel those fool thoughts that you might have had
For many of the nurses and some doctors too
Died along with their patients, as some brave people do.
This nurse was infected like others before
But he’s fully recovered and gone back to help more.*

©Joe Wilson – Only the brave…2015
A small tribute to William Pooley, a nurse who survived
being infected with Ebola and returned to Sierra Leone.
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
The natural home of the poet
Is not among society’s elite
But away from the riches and finery
And the fat-cat country seat.

We’re the eyes for the one who’s the underdog
The one struggling hard for his kin
The one who lost out when they took all the jobs
Who stands in the food queue again.

We’re the questioning voice of the sickly
While hospitals have wards that are closed
Who wonder why governments say ‘We all spend more!’
And ponder where it’s been disposed.

We have Portakabin classrooms that just shouldn’t be
And walls full of mould in our schools
Yet pay and pensions in the Westminster bubble
Go up yet again, as we’re treated as fools.

It’s quite true we don’t wander around with the rich
For our hearts and our minds are elsewhere
We’re keeping a watch on corruption at large
And versing your created despair.

©Joe Wilson – Were we really all in it together…2015
Apr 2015 · 281
The silence...
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
I ache to hold you in my arms, my love you are divine
To quietly reassure you, that all will soon be fine
And fill your head and heart with hope, for that would seem so kind.

But life can be quite cruel at times, as you my love have found
And though I tell you of my love, you cannot hear a sound
We will not quit, we’ll persevere, we beat it to the ground.

Darling one day, it will return, you’ll, hear the blackbirds sing
And you will then move on my love, from this, so silent Spring
The Summer will be warm and kind, and music it will bring


©Joe Wilson – The silence…2015

This is for my beloved wife.
Apr 2015 · 679
The world is our oyster...
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
He cast his hands up in the air and said ‘let there be light!’
And sunshine grew before His eyes revealing wondrous hue
But He alone could see the day and see the dark of night
So midst the stars He caused to live, a planet of green and blue
And on this planet there were put trees, for air that we have breathed
He found that He was satisfied, what wonders He perceived.

So many stars would fill the sky, so many moons would too
Then winds flew from the heavens, to spin them all around
And people he put on this Earth, this place of green and blue
Yet creatures first he let to roam till they stood on dry ground
Thus slowly man developed, and they settled far and wide
Then headed from the oceans in such increasing tide.

And when man looks up to the skies to search the stars above
He sees the soul inside each one and knows if they are good
He looks into the hearts of men and searches for the love
Would mankind ever realise, could it be understood
He put them here to nurture Earth, to tend and love his world
But man has rather lost his way as his arrogance unfurled.

We put our Earth in danger, we care for just ourselves
Fighting wars that ravage land that cause more conflict still
We take more air than we put back, we pack food on the shelves
Yet see another starve to death and others who are so ill
But look up to the heavens and take in all that magic
And try to ease the burden and save the world from tragic.

©Joe Wilson – The world is our oyster…2015
Apr 2015 · 253
Children...
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
… and as the Winter turned to Spring
Those seeds began to show
The ones we planted side by side
So very long ago.

They blossom by the hour
Our love is satisfied
We look upon our flowers
With deep and heartfelt pride…


©Joe Wilson – Children…2015
Apr 2015 · 201
And so it goes...
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
So round they come again, selling their wares
Trying to convince you the worth of the shares
Telling you all of the wonders they’ll do
When we are in power, we’re working for you.
It’s a great con of course, they just want your vote
Post all elections, folk don’t get a note
To say how important that cross was you made
All hopes for the future are surely, put-paid.

The rules are stark and simple, and this is how they go
One side’s for the people, the other’s for business & co.

It's more expensive, the challenge, of looking after folk
The side that’s into business see the poor as just a joke
Some say even she, that woman called of iron
Was kinder to the nation, but that’s a bit of a try-on.
She tore the hearts, from where they’ll never come back
Under the same yoke again, and we’re under attack
Of course there are several new ways we can think
Yet if we don’t change soon, we’re all going to sink.

The rules are stark and simple, and this is how they go
One side cares about you, the others don’t, you know!

©Joe Wilson – And so it goes…2015
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
A child of the fifties, born in mid-forty-nine
We hoped for a future where all would be fine.
But many like me became angry young men
Things just weren’t so fine,  it was like that back then.
The class system flourished, it was ever thus
Kids from estates discouraged from fuss.
The woollen school blazer was so heavy in the rain
Barathea too expensive,  so much lighter again.
But the grammar school system saved so many of us kids
Success was on merit and we rose from the skids.
“You’re the top two percent who’ve got into these schools”
They delighted in telling us, the such snobbish fools.
And then it’s to work and a living to make
You give such a lot just for crumbs from the cake.
And surviving it all was a fight on your hands
The boss on your back with his pointless demands.
Men called for strikes which meant countless lost days
And wages reduced I recall through the haze.
The making of goods soon slipped into the past
Strike followed strike, it just couldn’t last.
But that was the then, and it can’t be retrieved
Ships, pits and steel in which folks all believed.
People took sides, but both sides were so wrong
Communities torn open that were previously strong.
A generation of workers were thrown on the dole
Made to feel of no value by those in control.
When crossing a picket line unsticks family glue
Through it the wives bore the brunt as they do.
Some men retrained to escape from such follies
Others just survived gathering supermart trollies.
And then we moved on into bright retrained days
Technology beckoned and computers amaze.
Learned how to programme them to do work for us
And all about memory and the serial bus.
Then we started to write and note it all down
And the hard looking back made us think with a frown.
It had not been so bad, as the anger suggests
Though life seems to be such a series of tests.
Part way we took turn to raise kids ourselves
Notes put to one side at the back of dark shelves.
With no one to teach us, we plodded down that road
Our children, so wondrous, sound paths they both strode.
Each has now married and set out for themselves
It’s past time to get back those notes off the shelves.
Sitting at the  keyboard and pondering life
Casting one’s mind back to those days full of strife.
It could have been different, I think that, we all know
But protagonists have muscle that they do like to show.

©Joe Wilson – Perhaps it was just an illusion…2015
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
O road take me back to my country home
Speed me quick for my heart missed it so
For wealth and good fortune I foolishly roam
Now home-bound I once again go.
To the trees and blossom of Springtime
Even to the bare twigs of Fall
Yet even to the frost of a cold Winter’s rime
In the country I feel I am all.

Once I travelled o’er great oceans deep
I saw beautiful skies so bright blue
Yet I dreamt of you whenever I’d sleep
In countryside of lovely green hue.
For much as I love the hill and the ride
And all of the beauty found there
If I couldn’t sense you here by my side
Such bounty would just seem so bare.

So over  great oceans I travel once more
I’m heading to you darling dear
My heart it is calling to one I adore
It beats faster as home draws me near.
O darling I can’t bear to leave you again
This journey is the last I’ll pursue
In the country with you, my very best friend
We will live under our sky of blue.

And on days perhaps spent in woods near the lake
Watching woodpeckers , jays and the brambling
We’ll sit by the lake with a picnic we’ll take
Watching lambs in the fields as they’re gambolling.
Our hearts will be full and so satisfied
We’ll walk hand-in-hand by the shore
We’ll play ducks and drakes and watch the stones glide
Who could ever want anything more.

At night our arms each other enfold
We’d lie in passionate embrace
Our love we’d give in manner so bold
And I’d watch your beautiful face.
I’d wonder how lucky a man such as I
Could ever have been so well blessed
Such thoughts would make me silently cry
As we lie in our cottage now at rest.

©Joe Wilson – My beloved and my country…2015
Apr 2015 · 321
Dreaming of home…
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
My thoughts today are of our old home,  Clem
I’m wistful and so slightly sad
All the time that has passed since seeing them
No longer a young boisterous lad.
I miss the trees and the creak of the gate
Of the cottage where once we did live
The river that flooded when it was in spate
The forces that will not forgive.

O this town is a fine place to find us, Clem
Though it’s not like being back at home
So today I’m wistful for our cottage again
For the hamlet from where we did roam.
And if son, you’ve these thoughts as mine
As you’re going  about your day
Be ready to gather those things of thine
For soon we’ll be back on our way.

©Joe Wilson – Dreaming of home…2015
Written in a style similar to O. Henry
William Sidney Porter (1862 – 1910)
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
Everything is ugly, no beauty is found anymore
The unhappiness of troubled youth, garbage strewn by the fold
Those lumbering fools down on the farm, where habits are such a bore
All serve to think you ill of me, and the love for you I hold.

The cruelness of mortal life, is so vile as it unfolds
I wish that I could change all that, and show it just to you
And all the glory of the heavens, and stories yet untold
Tell of the love I hold so dear, my heart belongs to you.

©Joe Wilson – If could feel as I do…2015

Written in the style of W B Yeats (1865 - 1939)
after rereading The Lover Tells Of The Rose In His Heart
Apr 2015 · 525
Going home…
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
Portmanteaux packed and loaded,  a new life is my call
In going I am coming home, to rivers, forests and swan
And all the hustle-bustle I leave behind for all
As I start my life anew, as one.

In joyous solitude shall I bide, to be alone at last
I see it in the forest glade, among these misty leaves
The darkness and the shadows seem so very vast
And sleeping under ink-black skies deceives.

And so I travel homeward, a long, long journey home
Where waters lap so sweetly there lives a gentle swan
Which to the forest edge and by the glade does come
A gentle flutter of my heart so finally at one.

©Joe Wilson – Going home…

A poem in  the style of W B Yeats (1865-1939)
After re-reading The Lake Isle of Innisfree
Apr 2015 · 772
Elysium…
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
We always search for greener grass
Though yearn for home when found
For even when it comes to pass
One’s feet prefer their own home-ground
Yet even back at home again
We crave for wondrous pastures new
And though we may not so intend
Elysium, we search for you.

©Joe Wilson – Elysium…2015

A poem in the style of the wonderful W B Yeats (1865-1939)
that suggested itself to me after once again reading The Wheel
Apr 2015 · 723
Untitled 1.2.3...
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
Untitled 1– Challenge

The second great war was over
Europe had begun to settle
After years of fighting under the yoke of the gun
People relaxed and seemed in fine fettle.
Till the powers-that-be in their wisdom once more
Found another ill cause they could follow
Communism was now beginning to encroach
And all platitude began to ring hollow.
All the talks between leaders
Peace rallies, hippies man!
There would still be bleeders
From the ranks of the everyman.
We become the fodder of vicious politicians
In their eternal struggle for *******
That war became so very cold
As it swept from nation to nation.

And now amidst their platitudes
As night-time follows day
The war-dead fodder of yesterday
Encroach in dreams to have their say.

©Joe Wilson – Untitled 1…2015



Untitled 2 – Challenge

Like fodder we all go to cast our vote
As fodder once more, our ideals are smote
Times past we were sent as fodder to the gun
She lost her husband, he lost his son
And yet once more as the enemies approach
Politicians embellish and lies encroach
Yet no amount of platitude
Can change what must now be construed
We all are pawns in political aims
Sent as fodder in corruptors games
As cats get fatter and use platitude
The mood turns ugly as the populace brood.

©Joe Wilson – Untitled 2…2015




Untitled 3– Challenge


Statistical fodder in propaganda machine
The poor portrayed as lazy and obscene
While politicos laugh at this weekend’s jolly
The vulnerable suffer from yet more absurd folly.
While slick party leaders, before cameras, debate
In all of the platitude refusing to state
That they are the ones who are really to blame
As they take creature comforts for themselves in the game.

But the time fast approaches when they will be found out
As climates encroach that will bring with them, drought
And the poor and the weak will still just do their best
While the rich will get richer and ****** the rest!!

©Joe Wilson – Untitled 3…2015
Apr 2015 · 661
Mother Earth…
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
She has only limited resources
And her children all need to be fed
But gluttons will rob from the fountain
And her riches are often dry bled.
To put food on the family table
Men and women work hard and make savings
But the riches and wealth from their labours
Finds its way into tax-free safe havens.
You can’t justify why your cupboards are full
While another sits at a bare table
To share is a wonderful reward in itself
We should all do it when we are able.


If a poor man eats of food that you have provided
And smiles at the pleasure it gives
Is that not payment enough?

©Joe Wilson – Mother Earth…2015
Apr 2015 · 1.5k
The hopelessness...
Joe Wilson Apr 2015
I shouldn’t really be writing this naïve drivel. I have no idea at all of the hardships these desperate people go through. I wanted to imagine how it must feel though to finally find yourself in front of an uncaring bureaucracy. Obviously I, a secure white Englishman, whose history goes  back hundreds of years in this my home country, am far too safe to understand. My pen came up with this. I hope it doesn’t offend anyone.

The hopelessness…

Invalidated…
It was such an ugly word
So many tall letters
It looked faintly absurd.
But the word simply robbed him
Of chances he had
Struggles to get here
So brutal, so bad.
Beaten, *****  and robbed
He’d slipped out of Mogadishu
His parents both dead now
He was there sole issue.
He paid all his money
For a hopeless sea trek
And got washed up on shore
Now the boat was a wreck.
It was filled to the gunwales
With people like he
Many were lost
As the boat wrecked at sea.
But he never gave up
He just fought all the way
And now six months later
He arrived at this day.
The bureaucrat before him
Had a large black word stamp
He was clutching it so hard
He surely had cramp.


And then there it was
That strange looking word
That made him an alien
Akin to a ****.
So all of the struggles
And all of the pain
Now left him deflated
It had all been in vain.
How desperate he’d journeyed
To leave behind war
What now! Invalidated!
His future unsure!

©Joe Wilson – The hopelessness…2015
Mar 2015 · 388
A new life…
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
A new life…


And so they gave her chamomile
To restore her sense of calm
But each and every person there
Saw pointlessness in balm.
She would now always live in fear
He’d died, she was on her own
And she who’d lived a  fragile life
Would spend her days alone.

And live she did, surprising most
A new life she took to
Her past fragility she shook off
In fact she even flew.
Around the world she travelled
To countries far and wide
And everywhere she journeyed
His heart felt by her side.
Until at almost ninety-nine
She then called it a day
Whilst jumping from an aeroplane
She kept her chute in stay.
But those who jumped out with her
Saw her face was so sublime
She shouted she was going now
To join him, it’s now time.
And so she fell down to the ground
Though gently she did fall
Carried down to  earth in peace
As if held by her lover’s thrall.

©Joe Wilson – A new life…2015
Mar 2015 · 457
Straying from the shelf…
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
I wander these passages
I’m searching for you
In my mental state
It’s the best I can do.
I don’t know who you are
Nor even myself!
I feel like a parcel
Just left on the shelf.
I’m aimlessly wandering
I’m not seeing you
And if I did
Would you seem at all true?
My thoughts are a jumble
They’re making no sense
And as I see no one
I find I am tense.
Why am I looking?
I’ve no real idea
And as I go wandering
I recognise fear.
It creeps now upon me
On my shoulder it sits
I’m getting more frightened
The fear comes in fits.
So what am I doing?
I haven’t a clue
I thought I was searching
Searching for you.
But I don’t know who you are
Nor even myself
So I guess I’ll just sit here
Alone on my shelf…


©Joe Wilson – Straying from my shelf…2015
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
(A simple rule for a happy life)

Slender is the tie that binds
Two hearts in love as one
Easy though the harshest word
That signals it has gone.

For love to live within your heart
You must give it away
And if you do completely
Love will be there everyday….


©Joe Wilson – When losing it makes complete sense…2015
Mar 2015 · 356
Words of love and faith…
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
So tired I drift in long deep sleep
In thoughts of you that keep me warm
Inside a place of peaceful dreams
I find you in ethereal form.

And holding hands in sweet repose
Retelling words of love and faith
While wrapped in dream-like timeless mist
My arms enfold to keep you safe.

As wakefulness returns at dawn
No longer are you there to see
But opened eyes can now reveal
Your earthly form lies next to me.

Retelling words of love and faith
And wrapped in ageless passion we
With open eyes and open hearts
Who else but you could be with me.

©Joe Wilson – Words of love and faith…2015
Mar 2015 · 877
Swan song...
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
In satin shoe she took a step
Out onto stage as if set free
And as she did the pas-de-deux
Her broken heart, no one could see.

Engaging others as she danced
With ballerinos she excelled
Yet though as lovers they romanced
All thoughts of that had been dispelled.

Romance the papers talked about
Her secret life laid bare for all
But love in spotlight oft burns out
And broken heart caused her to fall.

And as she fell in motion, slow
Her life now almost gone
A crushing sense of sadness
She was the dying swan.

©Joe Wilson – Swan song…2015
Mar 2015 · 317
To my very core...
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
Impose your love upon my soul
That I may be alone no more
You reach inside my very core
With love that binds and keeps me whole.
My heart is under your control
What happy state this do I feel
Such joy as this has great appeal
Blessed am I in envious role.

And you, your happiness to me
Is of such vital import
That I would not with love cavort
To force what’s intertwined set free
For love as yours I fiercely sought
A love as sweet as it could be.

©Joe Wilson – To my very core…2015
Mar 2015 · 454
On bigotry…
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
You’ve been waiting for a transplant for a long time
Now a poor man who’s matched has just died
He agreed to give up his organs at death
So is fate now at last on your side?

But, the colour of his skin is not the same
And you’ve insulted his race in gross measure
He donated his organs with love in his heart
To give life to another to treasure.

Add hypocrisy now to your list of sins
For you’ll take the organs that are given
Perhaps when you wake you’ll be wiser
And from you the ignorance is driven.

He was a man, he had a wife
He had two children too
In fact you stupid bigot
He was just the same as you.

©Joe Wilson – On bigotry…2015
Mar 2015 · 425
When demons call...
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
And in the night when demons call
You hide inside your troubled mind
And hope you’ll not be found in thrall
By evil devils who are so unkind.

They seek you out to make you pay
For all the bad that you have done
The demons call most every day
Their endless war that can’t be won.

Till in the end they send you mad
A life can not be lived like this
And take your life you will, it’s sad
In your last breath, eternal bliss!

©Joe Wilson – When demons call…2015
Mar 2015 · 359
Holding hands...
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
Moulded together in love and pain
They were always by each other’s side
That’s how for life they chose to remain
Each to the other was their pride.

Heartaches came and went yet still
They were steadfast in their love
Held together by their simple will
They fitted like a hand in a glove.

They aged and their bodies grew fragile
Yet that love still carried them along
As a thing that was always so, tactile
It sustained, it was so very strong.

And then one day they were there no more
But their love was now so cast in stone
That devotion to each other went right to the core
As holding hands they passed into the unknown.

©Joe Wilson – Holding hands…2015
Mar 2015 · 610
O for an inky-black sky…
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
And thus the sunset beckons now the night
As stars begin to glow and so reveal
That once the dark has quashed out all the light
The moon and stars display with wondrous zeal.

As man will walk in countryside by night
Polaris shining bright to light his way
Where pitch-black sky was not a unique  sight
He searches  for that unspoilt place today.

For mankind spread and in his wake made light
Which blurs the view of Heavenly array
While phosphorescence glares so very bright
We miss the wonders of our Milky Way.

©Joe Wilson – O for an inky-black sky…2015
Mar 2015 · 376
It's personal...
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
Bathed in sweat he climbed
Out of his pit of despondency
And even as he struggled on
Its tentacles gripped in tight restraint
For life’s traumas can drag a man down
But nothing, nothing, can prepare him
For the pains suffered by those he loves so much
When there is absolutely nothing he can do to help.

…and that is the ******* problem.

©Joe Wilson – It’s personal…2015
Mar 2015 · 381
By dawn's early light...
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
I wish that I could see the dawn
That follows the one of my demise
For I could then tell all of you
If ‘there’ beyond is truth or lies.

And if I did see dawn it’s true
That to a better place we go
But if I don’t see that new dawn
Then I could never let you know.

And so your journey you will make
Some with husband, some with wife
And you will find out for yourself
If there  exists that better life.

©Joe Wilson – By dawn’s early light…2015
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
Marching forwards in love and in life
As snowdrop and crocus cover Spring earth
Raw though the wind, as Winter still lingers
Chapping the faces exposed to its wrath.
Hope springs eternal as I sit by the hearth
Indoors the warmth of a nice open fire
Nicely chopped logs all stacked by a scuttle
Glorious flames up the rise higher.

Flames soporific and soon I am sleeping
Out like a light from the heat of the fire
Running in dreams and thinking of roses
Wrapped in a beautiful paper display.
All for the lady who loves me forever
Roses the flowers from my heart every day
Dreams full of happy, and our lovely children
Slight sadness now as they make their own way.

It’s many years now and our love we have found
No more needs the blankets we laid on the ground.

Living a life with one who inspires you
Overly blessed like the Spring that now hails
Verdant the grass round the bench in the garden
Each night during Summers we tell lover’s tales.

And as we enter our twilight of living
Not for a second our passion shall wane
Drawn to each other, a one made from twain.

Isn’t it wondrous when love makes hearts bind
Never a doubt in your passion-filled mind.

Letters we’ve written of love for each other
Ink that was written, but not by a sage
Finally we slip into hot-chocolate evenings
Enjoying the warmth as we turn the next page.

©Joe Wilson – Marching forwards in love and in life…2015 (Acrostic)
Mar 2015 · 322
The letters...
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
Heavy the heart
Painful the burden
The messenger’s part
In passing the word on.

Deep are the creases
That now line his brow
The pain never ceases
It’s personal somehow.

His was the book
Which counted the dead
But each killing took
His hearts's peace instead.

They were his men
He loved them like sons
They’ll not sing again
Silenced by guns.

The letters he wrote
To tell of each death
Families he smote
By words of last breath.

The killing decided
There’s no final amount
Messenger lies dead
One more for the count.


©Joe Wilson – The letters…2015
Mar 2015 · 521
I bet...
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
I bet that as a child I climbed up many trees
Sometimes in tears running home with cut knees
I’d have played with Dinky toys and Hornby trains
And jumped into puddles after pouring rains.

I bet that as a youth I was petulant and daft
And sailed down a river on a home-made raft
I’d have ridden on my bike for miles and miles
Watching all the steam trains at railway styles.

And on a rugby pitch I’d have felt right in place
Charging down the wing or lying on my face
To clubs I’d have gone for the rhythm and the blues
We’d dance through the night like we’d nothing to lose.

I bet I met a lady who would love me forever
Who’d nurture our children and make us seem clever
She’d always keep me warm on the coldest nights
And be by my side when I get these frights.

I bet these things I’ve written may have all taken place
But the end-game approaches at an ever-quicker pace
I see it is the sort of life someone like me would need
But the memories have faded like an old dried up seed.

©Joe Wilson – I bet…2015
Mar 2015 · 459
The storm...
Joe Wilson Mar 2015
The wind howled drowning out the shrieks of crows
As they harried and swooped at the buzzard above
Forcing him yet again to drop his hard-won  prey
And as the clouds thickened, and sky darkened,
All signs of light started to fade from the day.
A mighty thunderous storm was surely on its way.

Once more, I emptied the bucket, that now
Seems to permanently live in the loft
Always waiting, to catch that single drop of water
That somehow manages to find its way
Through the edge of the roof tiles, to drip
In perfect correlation with the rain.

Then it began…

It started with a gentle pitter-patter
On the sun-lounge roof  where it is always first noticed
Soon lightning flashed in its startling iridescence
Of pink and blue, to prove to us its presence
Shortly followed by the long mighty crash
Of  thunder as it tried desperately to catch up

And with it came a reservoir of rain

At the windows it rushed so break-neck fast
It seemed they would surely just burst or smash
A bird-table outside in the garden fell
With a loud breaking-to-pieces crash
And flower pots took to the air in unison.

Jugglers may spin plates around on sticks
I’ve seen more than a dozen spinning round
But the wind has no boundaries and hurled up high
Plastic pots of all colour and size and shape
Outside the window such a staggering sight
The pots now looked as if they were Heaven bound.

And then it stopped…

As suddenly as it had begun, the lightning disappeared
The thunder, after a last weak gentle rumble, fell silent
The rain changed to a light drizzle and finally stopped
It was as if it knew it had other places to call, and it had.
And in it’s wake the sun  peered wearily from behind the clouds
Daylight returned, and once more a sense of calm descended.

And as the wind gradually faded to a gentler breeze
And saplings that had bent over stood up again like trees
A small cascade of flower pots quickly fell to the ground
And added to the mess that the short storm had left
I turned my back and walked away to my den
That would be a tidying task for who knows when!

©Joe Wilson – The storm…2015
Feb 2015 · 247
Walk with me...
Joe Wilson Feb 2015
Would you walk with me in bright Spring moonshine
Where we could talk of life and of our love
And stay and watch the skies and stars above
When I would tell of how you are  divine
In the skies where love is oft reflected
Amongst the star-crossed lovers all displayed
Thoughts  awry at glances that  you made
Blessed am I our hearts a so connected.

We’d sit and kiss and talk of heart’s desires
And holding hands we’d make our way to home
As passion fills our souls like oceans  foam
With love so great to always quench the fires
To live and love and share my life with you
Was surely what fate wanted me to do.

©Joe Wilson – Walk with me…2015
Joe Wilson Feb 2015
So take me up my quill of finest swan
To write what matters yet not much less
For thus my thoughts are now shrivelled and gone
Thus left empty-headed I must now confess.

Wouldst that I could perhaps tarry a thought
As headlong it rushes before mine eyes
A serious, nay, even a gentle sort
To halt such a one that my mind defies.

Thence  would I rush to parchment brand new
And write with such haste my thought down in inks
Afore it was lost to the sky so blue
Stealing the words of devotion methinks.

For if my quill wouldst move swiftly as thought
Twould  tell of the  love from thee that is sought.

©joe Wilson – So take me up my quill…2015
Feb 2015 · 308
His last breath...
Joe Wilson Feb 2015
A breath is being taken that’s so shallow
No sound the breathing now makes
The fear of death lurking in the shadows
Immerses the souls in fearful quakes.
For the breathing of man is a precious gift
Yet one taken as a right by this sinner
But the spectre in the shadows is yet waiting
As the rasping sound of death grows ever thinner.

A tear now slowly falls from the dying man’s eye
It lands with a mighty clap upon his pillow
For the man is in such pain while he is living
Yet he knows there’s more to come at where he’ll  go.
For not a word of simple kindness did he ever utter
A cruelty to fellow men was all he’d show
And he never gave but a thought to how we got here
But down there, it’s safe to say, he’ll surely know.

©Joe Wilson – His last breath…2015
Feb 2015 · 344
We foolish men...
Joe Wilson Feb 2015
A man can fancy himself a lover
He can fool himself so well
But without he’s kind and thoughtful too
He’ll remain a man for whom no one fell.

We foolish men with egos writ large
Our pride makes us oft so foolhardy
And in arrogant fashion we think we’re the best
Like a hero carved out by a Thomas Hardy.

And yet when we give all we are to the one
To the one who can bring joyous tears
That person will give all they are in return
O true happiness! You just grow through the years.

Love will make your heart shine bright
It will lift away your fears of lonely
For when you’re with the one you love
It is never a time of being the only…

©Joe Wilson – We foolish men…2015
Feb 2015 · 343
For all eternity...
Joe Wilson Feb 2015
This reckless place that is my mind
That shows me much, though oft I’m blind
Has nonetheless led me to you
A glorious, amazing thing to do.
And that alone brings other pain
That I might not see you again
For as we age our body’s tire
I say ‘who cares’, I call me liar.
But side by side we love and chat
Laughing, remembering this and that
And in your tender arms in bliss
O Lord please let us go like this.

For all eternity we will stay
As lovers, as we are today.

©Joe Wilson – For all eternity…2015
Joe Wilson Feb 2015
Have we really lost our way
Open warfare every day
Perhaps if some could compromise
Earnest talks could open eyes.

Sparing children from seeing death
Plaguing memories till dying breath
Rights of all, to live and be healthy
Interfering warmongers who only get wealthy
No money, the poor go to food banks
Guess you dine anywhere if you sell tanks
Somebody making a fortune from others.

Each bullet fired can **** someone’s brothers
Talks round the tables among heads of state
Extracting solutions before it’s too late
Roses should be given by lovers on a date
Not on the gravestones of victims of hate
Armageddon is the end-game we fear
Let’s step back from the edge,  it’s dangerously near.

©Joe Wilson – Hope Springs Eternal…2015
Feb 2015 · 434
Where now the promises...
Joe Wilson Feb 2015
Where now the promises of five years ago
We’d all feel much better, but do we, O no!
Some having now to use a food bank
Children are learning in schools that are dank.


The roads have become a sea of potholes
Zero-hour jobs not much better than dole
Fewer police officers walking the beat
Feeling secure is becoming a treat.


The man at the top expounds thoughts anew
Deputy man has a different view
University fees we won’t let them change
In government though such things rearrange.


Rich businessmen avoid paying tax
Down below credit cards teeter at max
Inflation comes down as they try to impress
But energy bills never get any less.


The silent majority keep a stiff upper lip
As their security starts losing its grip
But it gets barely noticed in the Westminster bubble
For those less than rich will always spell trouble.


Naturally, of course, there’s a different view
From politicians cast in a different hue
All trying to wheedle their way to get votes
Filling our heads with more promissory notes.


Imagine if you will it’s December next year
Do you feel right now that you have less to fear?
Or is it the case that nothing has changed?
Just the furniture in Downing Street got re-arranged.


Maybe in fact it stayed exactly the same
And we voted back in this bad lot to the game
We can blame ourselves later, when we see what we’ve done
Ensuring that actually, we’ve really not  won.


©Joe Wilson – Where now the promises…2015
Feb 2015 · 575
Outrageous fortune...
Joe Wilson Feb 2015
Voracious the appetite of government departments
Entrapping the citizen in reams of red tape
Bringing out laws that reduce our empowerment
They are in charge…there is no escape!


Woeful the behaviour of said politicians
Claims of expenses for things they don’t need
Peddling half-truths in the Westminster bubble
Those grand good intentions get lost to the greed.


But we do get a chance in May, this year
To say who shall mess up the next, let’s not gripe
Though it matters not where your crosses are placed
They’ll all make us suffer, no matter their stripe.


Patients will still lie in A & E corridors
While over-stretched staff do their best
Sick people die from a lack of attention
The system is wrong and not properly addressed.


The greed will go on, the poor will still lose
While the fortunate will reap the rewards
The disreputable will be given directorships
No men of honour left to fall on their swords.



©Joe Wilson – Outrageous fortune…2015
Feb 2015 · 804
Migraine tunnels...
Joe Wilson Feb 2015
Silence echoes so loud in my tunnel
Breakneck the speed that I flew down the funnel
In bright psychodelia my eyes cry in pain
Migrainous headache hits my brain cells again.

Analgesic no use in this situation
Send me to sleep, causing much aggravation
The pain still remains as always it does
The silence so noisy, like a gigantic buzz.

So to my bed and to lie down again
Under the duvet, my warm comfy friend
Back to the sleep and my tunnel of pain
The tunnel revealing this time, a loud train.

Train thunders over my temples this time
I declare migraine headaches - violent crime!

©Joe Wilson – Migraine tunnels…2015
Feb 2015 · 576
Ode to St Valentine…
Joe Wilson Feb 2015
Those sad red roses that smelled so sweet
Seemed to wither  to nothing in my hand
For by comparison to you my love
What chance did they ever stand!


So here we are at St Valentine’s Day
It’s only you that I’ll ever need
My heart and my soul I gave to you
And for me, my spirit you freed.


©Joe Wilson – Ode to St Valentine…2015
Feb 2015 · 361
Moonlight casts a spell...
Joe Wilson Feb 2015
Moonlight casts out its magical spell
Again I feel that deep pleasure
Yet when you gaze upon it’s face
It loses lustre by no small measure.

For such is your beauty that all else will pale
When everyone meets you they smile
Your kindness just simply amazes my heart
You make each of us feel worthwhile.

O lucky man I, that I got to share
A lifetime spent here by your side
Immersed in such love and your radiance
With a heart that is bursting with pride.

And now here in twilight I gaze at your lips
That have kissed me with such sensuous touch
And I know as I smile and think of our life
That I have and I still love you, so very much.



©Joe Wilson – Moonlights casts a spell…2015
Feb 2015 · 426
Musical notes...
Joe Wilson Feb 2015
…and so I stare at the metronome
as it counts away the beat
I lay my fingers upon the keys
after carefully adjusting the seat
but nary a delicate sound can I make
I played French Horn, the piano’s a mistake.

…but ivory keys  I would love to play
I’ll get taught somehow along the way
for I have heard no finer sound
in all the years I’ve been around
than when good fingers are laid on keys
to make great music designed to please.


…the classical sounds I learnt at school
I chose the horn as my delivery tool
for there was only a single grand
and sadly it was in such demand
but with my horn I had good tone
and skills in that field I did hone.


…time has passed and tastes have changed
and my life now is rearranged
I’ve not played horn in a very long time
I took to the pen and tried to make rhyme
while musical magic goes round in my head
often a classic or a jazz piece instead.


…with books and music and my muse at my side
I’ve lived a good life in a quiet countryside
but the one thing I’d like that I’ve still yet to do
is learn to play keyboard and play it well too
and one day I will, I’m certain of that
play a wonderful concerto…quite loud in E-flat!


©Joe Wilson – Musical notes…2015
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