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

This land has been robbed of all that it had
Nothing is left, even for the slick and the rich
Crumbling edifices to our capitalist greed
Our world no capacity now left for its need.

There were those amongst us fought agin this
Imprisoned in jails within our own tortured selves
Not enough of us tried to stop the horrors we saw
Now nothing is left, our charade is no more.

Your fathers all fought in such ****** campaigns
There fathers too, and there fathers before
New weapons of destructive powers previously unheard
That slaughtered the innocent in ways cruelly absurd.

Buildings left standing with all inside dead
People didn't matter, but the real estate did
And thus the corruption swept over the Earth
We were judged by our value but not by our worth.

It angers me now as I feel guilty shame
For I didn't do enough and that makes me as them
And for you with the mess whatever is left
There's a world that was rich and is now so bereft.

One thing is certain, save the wealth of the land
The one crucial thing that we never did foresee
Don't go down the pathway of war-like inventions
Create things for peace and for better intentions.

Think in these ways and you may stand a chance
It's a message I couldn't ever iterate to much
War and corruption lie together in bed
Growing good crops gets communities fed.



©Joe Wilson - In mortal pain...2014

To sit thinking quietly on ones own
is perhaps today’s rarest commodity
when you say that you wish to be alone
observers will tag you as an oddity
and yet that solitariness is divine
a time to question one’s thoughts
a moment where honesty will guide you
and lies get your personal retorts.

©Joe Wilson – Private moments 2014



We seem though discouragingly needy
to resist the desire in our mind
to be seen to be caring to others
as if it was a sin to be kind
but to be kind to others is no sin
it is all that we should ever be
and He who is watching and caring
misses nothing in His Heavenly See.

©Joe Wilson – Not sinning 2014

It starts with a trickle way up in a hill
Just a small drop little more than a rill
It seeks out the gulleys and cracks in the ground
And begins its long journey all the way down.

There is a short distance where it goes underground
And listening quite closely one can hear the sound
Of the loud rushing sound as one stream joins another
It’s much larger now as it bursts from its cover.

Down it keeps tumbling still fairly small
Till it drops from a cliff in a long waterfall
Where it now joins a much bigger stream and together
They race for the sea as they go hell for leather.

After a few miles the pace slows right down
As the river encircles the outskirts of town
There are men dipping fishing rods hoping for bounty
That flows with this river, the pride of the county.

Miles further on the river seems to stop
There’s a very sharp bend and a deep hillside drop
But after the bend it gets off on its way
Nothing else holds up its progress today.

Other streams will join it as it quickens its pace
Smaller rivers too will join in the race
The mighty thing grows as it travels along
Sometimes it sounds like it’s singing a song.

There’s a very high bridge that carries the trains
That travel along on the networks veins
It has several arches that lift the bridge high
And the river flows through them as it passes on by.

A family of swans with their heads all held high
Their necks long and slender reach up to the sky
They swim along gaily and some ducks join them too
But they stop sometime later as there’s nesting to do.

There’s a place miles along where it goes through the sky
Borne on an aquaduct that creaks with a sigh
Where underneath lorries carry freight to the ports
Vying for space with cars and vans of all sorts.

Many more bridges will it pass on its way
And more roads will cross it in every which way
Till finally the river arrives at the coast
Suddenly small by a much greater host.

In the estuary the river meets up with the sea
When the weather is stormy they crash forcefully
And back in the hills many miles far away
A small drop of water starts the journey again.

©JRW2014

It had been a while
it had been an age
since he last let his style
wander over the page.

He still felt such rage
which made him feel dire
but there'd be no next stage
till he'd put out this fire.

He felt so much calmer
as ink flowed 'cross the page
words were such a disarmer
he had issues to engage.

The more that he penned
the calmer he got
as he tried to amend
and move on from this spot.

But at the very last line
with his pen in the margin
he tore it up as a sign
and he'd write it again.

______

Anger all gone now
he looked at the cross
and he knew then that somehow
He was sharing his loss.

He felt again whole
as he laid his pen down
he felt back in control
from a peace he'd now found.

Presently he turned again to his labours
leaving his writing and going back to his lathe
and as he looked over at one of his neighbours
he thought of his son on a cross being brave.

Who'd not spoken of God
or of angels with wings
but of the land and the sod
and of bread, fish and things.

Ah the mysteries of life
are such a matter of faith
she was Joseph's wife
But ’twas God kept her safe.



©Joe Wilson – He looked at the cross...2014

She doth inspire me so gently
In her essential sensuousness
She fills me with hope so intently
As she soothes with whispered caress.



I’m empowered by her will for my being
To reach heights I could never believe
She aids my heart’s vision of what it is seeing
Keeping me focussed in my desire to achieve.



And when at the end of a very tiring day
When I’m worn from the travails of this life
I sit down by she who’s my muse everyday
She’s my friend, she’s my heart, she’s my wife.



©Joe Wilson – She doth inspire me so gently…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

From his coronet, through his tendons and right up to his crest
When you looked at his withers you could see he was best
His tail was magnificent and hung past his hock
He was blessed with three white ones and a single black sock.

The horse was a Crioulo that had come from Uruguay
I fell for the majesty of this horse I would buy
He was the colour of buckskin with a black tail and mane
And the dun gene line backed him with a long thin black stain.

He stood fifteen hands and he ran like a king
Astride him made me want to just burst out and sing
I raced over fields and I took him over fence
He knew what I asked of him, he had so much sense.

I loved him for thirty fours years from a colt
And when he took his last breath it gave me a jolt
But I’ll never forget Samson, for that was his name
He let me ride on him but he was only ‘so’ tame.

©Joe Wilson – They only let you tame them so much…2014

On such a glorious day as this
We left the aisle in wedded bliss
And through the years of joy, and pain
I’ve thought, I’d do it all again.

A journey such as we have made
Where love stands out and ill did fade
Was all I ever hoped to see
With one who’d know the real me.

©Joe Wilson–A short note to my wife…2015

Each day he tried so very hard
Her tender heart to win
She’d often smile at this silly card
Putting unopened notes in a tin.

For many years it was this way
He kept on trying so hard
Until one day she looked his way
And kissed this silly card.

She then began to read his notes
She took them from her tin
And on the wings of love it floats
The love he’d penned within.

They courted then and fell in deep
A love of purest gold
And love they did from wake to sleep
Until they both grew old.

They rarely left each others side
It’s where they liked to be
He said, there was no one else, with pride
You were all there was for me.

Decades on, and growing old
The spark of love still glows
Daily still his wife is told
“I love you”, and my love still grows.

Now hand in hand they fall asleep
And pray to see tomorrow
They only hope they go as one
To spare the other sorrow.

But yet, they wake another day
They smile and still try hard
Her beauty keeping age at bay
He's still her silly card.

©Joe Wilson – A lifetime of gold…2015

Things were very different in the Sixties
Everything was like new fresh breath
But this sad, true tale of my childhood
Is the tale of a friend's early death.

Peter helped the Co-op grocers delivery-man
After he'd finished school for the day
He'd sit on an upturned milk crate
And they drove merrily along on their way.

He'd helped the man deliver for ages
It was what teenage boys would often do
But as the van took a corner in Rising Brook
Out to his sad fate Peter flew.

The van only had the single driver's seat
No one else was supposed to be there
And the doors all slid back and stayed open
Safety wasn't really thought about to be fair.

So out of the van my friend Peter flew
And fate treated him so very very cruel
He disappeared right under a passing bus
Right in front of the gates to his school.

My best friend was Harry, Peter's brother
And for him everything changed on that day
I watched Harry wither before me
As his spirit of mischief flew away.

Just a few years later Harry drifted
I've not seen him from that day to now
But I hope he was able to find for himself
A way to survive the horror somehow.

I've not spoken of this since those dark days
and the flood of the memory is still raw
If only I could step back and warn him
My friend, please, please close the door.

By a sad twist of irony I lost my brother as well
He was struck down by the first 'Asian Flu'
That memory hurts like a stab in the heart
I was twenty, he was just twenty-two.


©Joe Wilson - The cruel hand of fate...2014

Sadly, this is entirely true. Peter was killed falling under a bus in this manner and my brother was a recently married policeman who died of so-called 'Asian Flu' in 1970.

Love is the most powerful weapon on Earth…
Don’t argue against such a thing of great worth

So why the Hell won’t politicians listen?
Do they not see the Earth’s sad eyes as they glisten?

From the tears that are flooding out over the land
But no! Politicians don’t want to understand!

©Joe Wilson – Sadness…2014

He walked down the length of that long lonely street
His footsteps tapping a short rhythmic beat
He encountered no one at that time of day
There was no one to stop him and have their say.

It was a dark three o’clock in the morning
As he wandered aimlessly along the road
But it wasn’t as if he had any place to go
He was only but another poor homeless Joe.

He was on the search for some food or scrap
New enough still to hate this poverty trap
Recently separated, he lost his job and his home
He now find’s himself on the road, where he roams.

He’s tried very hard to keep his dignity too
Not mixing much with the others who do
And he now walks about with an air of fake calm
Thinking that might protect him from coming to harm.

It had never occurred to him that he was always at work
His wife needed more, he understood that too late
Over years it had taken a hard marital toll
So she’d stepped away from him and he’d lost his role.

But he wouldn’t give in, he was determined about that
He desperately told himself every day
He couldn’t let himself live like this for long
He felt if he said so that he would remain strong.

His wife said she still loves him, despite that she left
He caused her such pain and he feels so bereft
But as long as she loves him it gives him some hope
He’ll fight his way back up this steep darkened *****.

He walked down the length of that long lonely street
You could hear a slight lightness to the short rhythmic beat
His eyes filled with tears as his wife filled his heart
Determined he walked on to make a new start.



©Joe Wilson – A new start…2014

He had searched for ten long years
always hopeful of finding the reason.

The reason she’d been taken from him
and why he always felt so alone.

Till one day he came to realise
that the memory of the feelings he’d had
were far far better and happier
than anything he could possibly hope to find.

He stopped looking
he got on with his life
no longer searching for a memory
and went about life with a new and fresh look.

He’d survived, and now he’d be alright.

The hole was still there
but for now at least
it was shored up
and he was functioning.

We can hope for more
even beg for more.

We’re lucky when that ‘more’ happens.

©Joe Wilson - The emptiness... 2013

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

If you are with someone
If you stay with that someone always
If almost every thought includes that person
If you care for them like no one else
If you try really hard never to hurt them
If you try desperately never to disappoint them
If you stay awake until they sleep to be sure they’re safe
And if you rise early to watch them wake so that you can see in the new day together
You are enjoying being in love with that someone
In the way I enjoy being in love with you.

©JRW2014

Anxious
sweating
palpitations and fear
results day coming
internal tears.

Hope for the best
plan for the worst
taking the test
mentally immersed.

News again good
sweating all gone
lying relaxing
afraid? not this one!

©Joe Wilson – Fears…2014

Beneath the veil of nations’ fears
Underneath their eyelid’s tears
Are secrets kept of vile misdeeds
Of many wars these are the seeds.

Adventurers sailed around the world
Their nation’s flags they then unfurled
Then ***** the land of all they saw
And stole the wealth found in the core.

Independence now those countries claim
To stand alone, be proud their aim
But our ancestors fiscal curse
We robbed, pillaged and bared their purse.

So now they strike out on their own
The country’s wealth pared to the bone
They end up fighting with themselves
Supplied with weapons from dealers shelves.

This circle will go around and around
Till every human is in the ground
And you my friend when you read this tome
Will wish that you had not left home.



©Joe Wilson – The seeds of war…2014

At the back of my mind is a small peaceful walk
Where I amble alone and I don’t have to talk
Where war in the world is a far distant nightmare
And only my personal thoughts I invite there.

If ever the bustle of life gets so fierce
That delicate bubble of sanity pierced
The final resort to losing my way
Shut down for a moment to this place I stray.

But just for a moment and then on with the show
There are things to be done and places to go
It just wouldn’t do to be all that insular
I leap from the sidelines with a little chutzpah.

So now all refreshed I return to my labours
All buoyed by my moment away from life’s sabres
Get myself to the grindstone and continue the task
Forgive me my failings is all that I ask.

My failings are many and yours may be few
We each try our best in the things that we do
If we just understood that and accepted this thing
Troubles would be less and far more hearts would sing.

Occasionally you’ll find me at the back of my mind
I’ll let your thoughts in if intentions are kind
And you’ll find that I think something similar to you
Our innocence was lost by the road as we grew.

There’s a small peaceful walk at the back of my mind
I like to go there and meet friends who are kind
It’s not really to hard to summon them there
They’re people like me who’d like the world to be fair.

©Joe Wilson – At the back of my mind…2014

He could hear the steady beat in his ears
it was the only sound there was sometimes
and was the most comforting sound ever made
but he knew this was not the only sound
as he sometimes felt rather than heard
something making other gentle sounds
and when the something moved
he had no choice, he moved too.

Something in the distance would make noises back
though that thing didn't seem quite so gentle somehow
and where he was he felt very safe and comfortable
but although he couldn't see anything he felt
he was on a journey that would soon be over
and then – he would see everything.

Then one day he was there
he was surrounded by brightness
and moving things making strange noises at him
that he didn't understand and which made him cry.

But soon and very gently he was placed next to a thing
that he instinctively knew was his Mother.
It was the most beautiful thing
that he could have ever imagined.

©Joe Wilson – A new beginning 2014

Pain in the head, again feeling gripped
Fears of another burst coming one day
Returning memories of leaks being clipped
Paralyses my mind in a terrifying way.

Shouldn't have happened, why the hell was it me?
But then, why not? Could be anyone see!
And I recovered fully anyway
To live to fight another day.

©JRW2014

A tiny tear falls from my eye
For each and every death
Another suicide bomb goes off
And snuffs out human breath.

They blow themselves for principles
That we don’t understand
If they are right ---if we are right
It still means blood-stained land.

For pity’s sake each life that’s lost
Just hardens attitudes against
We have to talk to stop their deaths
And negotiate without constraints.

Each innocent life that gets destroyed
Is a wasted friend or lover
A murdered mother or father
Or a dead sister or brother.

This surely cannot go on forever…

©Joe Wilson – A tiny tear…2014

He leaves the village and takes his bow
and soon in silence his prey he'll know
he'll **** a boar and his family will be fed
life in the margins is that or be dead.
He'll cut the beast down the centre line
give half to his neighbour, he is that kind
this is their way, these people are fair
with their neighbours and friends they always share.
But let us not forget the soul of the boar
He reached into its heart and his then did soar
the beast served its purpose, fed people, went rotten
its soul though was pure, and by Him, not forgotten


©Joe Wilson - All His children... 2014

He walked among them and felt their joy
it was Christmas Eve but he had no employ
his job was lost, recession has a cost
his back was bowed from all he’d lost.

This year his children would have few toys
no in-line skates or games like other boys
his beloved wife would have little too
it broke his heart but what could he do!

And so he stood upon the railway track
knowing he couldn’t get it back
he heard the train from so far away
not wanting to face another day.

And while he stood and waited there
a star so bright he had to stare
his earthly troubles all slipped aside
a presence engulfed and he warmed inside.

He realised his dreadful selfish act
would worsen many other lives in fact
and hurried back to the home he shared
full of guilt for how he’d not cared.

He reached his door to find his wife
the beautiful woman who shared his life
and in her hand an envelope
contained an offer of work and hope.

The next day dawned and as he woke
inside his head a small voice spoke
patience my son, things do work out
retain your faith, remove all doubt.

That Christmas Day was good indeed
from children’s joy that filled a need
and from a faithful inner glow
brought about by Him we know.

©Joe Wilson – A star so bright… 2014

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.

Walked I along this winter's morn
midst trees with bright red berries borne
where once men stood with mighty shields
on England's ****** battlefields.

And in uncivil - Civil War
friends killed friends who'd lived next door
but lines were drawn and power revealed
where once such things had been concealed.

How many men and women died
for pious thoughts and English pride
whose wasted lives now lie beneath
that trampled o'er when we cross heath.

The bodies fall, the numbers rise
more victims of political lies
and yet some people still would fight
convinced that they are in the right.

‘twas ever thus and shall remain
the populace feel power's disdain
yet even now we fight their wars
with they as pimps and we their ******.

©Joe Wilson - The numbers rise...2015

Going down the stairs on that March Saturday afternoon
I looked out of the landing window at the torrential rain
It was then that I heard a loud hollow thump as he fell
And I was never to see my father alive again.

I was just a little shy of my thirteenth birthday
It was the unhappiest and saddest of my days
My mother now a widow had lost her best friend
And the pain that followed hurt in many ways.

Five brothers and our sister had lost a rudder
To the ship that is a family going through life
And the empty place not filled beside the table
Strikes at the heart as with a rusty knife.

Time passes and my brothers number just one
And my sister makes us three and not now six
For over four decades and five my kin have fallen
And that’s one statistic nothing can ever fix.

Never fail to love the ones you care for
Never fail to tell them how much you care
For sometimes if you turn around for too long
You turn your head and they’re no longer there.

©Joe Wilson – Family down 2014

His pain from fire was seen round the world
And Governments’ collective lips all curled
As its profanity was displayed without care
A King left the runway as his jet took to air.
Leading his people against this vicious attack
It began long ago and there’s no going back
They’re baying now for the terrorist blood
Though he’s sure to know it will come to no good.


So many wars and so much fighting
And so much ****** death
New children brought into the world
Where wars just rob them of their first breath.
Everywhere now seems awash with the blood
With the blood of the Innocents
While the world is slowing destroying itself
In human inflicted increments.

©Joe Wilson – Taking the lead…2015

It rained
It rained down on me
– and it wouldn’t stop!

The torrent of vicious blows just wouldn’t stop
They beat me
They beat me
They beat me

They wouldn’t stop

I was a boy…I was a child

Why wouldn’t they stop?

Mother!
Father!

Why have you abandoned me?

This is not what it says

This is not a home

This is my nightmare.



©Joe Wilson – Just a boy…2014

Life could be harsh in orphanages in the nineteen-fifties.
I’m ever grateful that I only heard of this and didn't experience it myself.

Whoever would fire a bullet?
I ask as I’m surely confused
Who on Earth would want to shatter
All that beauty that Nature has fused!

Who sits in a hide away from the light
Waiting for the deer to call
They don’t need the meat, that’s not the treat
It’s the head and the points on the wall!

Tribesmen in ‘less civilised’ countries
Might hunt down just such a deer
Then they pray for the soul of the slaughtered
For life-saving food from a beast they revere!

Not for them the revulsion of trophies
They only **** what they need
But in our ‘so civilised’ society
We can **** just for pleasure or greed.

There is something not right in society
Where solutions come from a gun
Weapons should be just for protection
They should never be used for such ‘fun’.

“Please do not be offended by my reference to a ‘less civilised’ society. I refer only to a lack of modernity and in actuality we are the far more crudely behaved frequently” Joe Wilson 2014



©Joe Wilson – The slaughtered… 2014

Welcome to my world, I’m glad you could come
We’ll sit and swap stories, and perhaps partake ***
Adventures we’ll talk of, of right beating wrong
As we talk like old friends, we’ll compose ode-like song.
The world we will set on the right course again
As ours will be filled with true gentle men
And ladies, our equals with tales of their own
Would make us see reason by raising the tone.
The world carries on as we all have tea
Lots of nice food shared out equally
Till the dream
                ...would then finish
                          ......as dreams always do

…and I wake to my real and more cynical view.

Joe Wilson – False hopes…2015

It’s two in the morning in this New Year’s Day poem
he’s cold-sober and hopeful for a good new year’s start
just six months ago he’d almost lost his way home
but she’d found him and led him back to her heart.

It’s an amazing thing, this love, he now knew
alone he was lost like an empty tin can
but this woman in his life was amazing too
she was vital to this mere foolish man.

He gazed across now at her so lovely face
and whispered “I love you,” she smiled. “I know.”
he isn't so much feeling the New Year’s embrace
as holding on tight and letting the old one just go.

©Joe Wilson – Holding on tight… 2014

It was a grey dawn that held an ominous weight about it
all the curtains were drawn shut and yet somehow he knew
the wind-driven rains that had howled in the dark night
and the long-buried secret that would surely now be on view.

The man who’d abused him all of those long years ago
had disappeared like a ghost in the middle of the night
and now there would be those who would find out at last
why he’d suddenly vanished from everyone’s sight.

He’d flayed him so often he now hunched his back
where his skin had knotted and mended like string
but the worst of his fears – the drunken attacks
humiliating tears and the terror it would bring.

He stood it for so long, it should never have been
this pain from a guardian, so vile and obscene
till one day a knife found its way into his hand
at the time of the stabbing he was only fourteen.

Being out on a farm and there being just them two
he was terrified he’d be taken far away
so he buried the guardian as deep as he could
and hoped underground was where he would stay.

He tended the farm and made it quite a success
and carried on as best as he could
he finished education and returned to the farm
where he waited almost hoping for last night’s flood.

The terrible secret that he’d kept all these years
made him avoid making friends so he’d no kind of life
he watched television and he read many books
and discounted all thoughts of a girl or a wife.

How he’d survived the twenty years since he just didn’t know
he was lonely and so terribly sad
and though he knew what he’d done was all that he could
he was painfully aware that it was wicked and bad.

And so in a way the storm held mixed blessings
he could finally admit to all what he’d done
he knew that his life would never be the same
but in his thirty-fours there was not a thing he had won.

With reluctance and a heavy heart he drew curtains back
rain water and mud flooded his land six feet deep
and though sheds had fallen and hedgerows lay bent
the ground yielded nothing and his secret it would keep.

Slowly he now realised that he’d wanted this release
but he’d not be believed if he called anyone
he couldn’t bear the thought of more years of disgrace
so finally, desperately, he loaded his gun………..

©Joe Wilson – …the worst of his fears…2014

I feel the chill of the season's approach
As Autumn moves aside for Winter's cold
And wild creatures sensing the coming storms
Frantically forage in ways so bold.

Trees shed of all their majestic colours
Draw food and moisture down into their roots
And close off thousands of Summer scarred pores
Ensuring strong growth to next years new shoots.

It gets darker now as the night-time draw in
Heavier skies create a blackened hue
Before too long the snow clouds will gather
And the crops of this year will die back to renew.

Suddenly Winter is finally upon the land
Not too much to see at a casual glance
And as insects burrow deeper and redwings feed
A slow Winter dormancy takes over the plants.



©Joe Wilson - Season's approach... 2014

Deluded by a strange life of fantasy
Fueled by his own macabre insanity
The vilest of beasts sets out once more
To create dead bodies and increase his score.

Nobody knows yet the who or the when
For the shadows are his closest friends
But when the month begins anew
There’s dead body one, and dead body two.

He seems to like to **** in twos
Psychiatrists scratch their heads confused
And witter on in gobbledygook tones
As yet more bodies turn up as bones.

It’s been a year so that’s twenty-four
He needs a holiday that’s for sure
But when on holiday he acts the same
For he loves to play his killing game.

By the sea, or near the shore
He still adds to his wicked store
Of trophies that he takes each time
When he commits these wicked crimes.

Will he be caught, he thinks not
Though there are times the trail is hot
But then he plays a clever trick
One that he thinks makes him slick.

One male one female normally
But when in trick mode, he kills three
And this he thinks throws of the scent
Of police detectives all hell-bent.

And these detectives can see no link
For our killer never stops to think
He picks them up at any place
Barely looking them in the face.

But slowly now as time goes on
His madness grows, all reason gone
This could be the end of him
It drives him closer to the rim.

Control is what he’s losing first
His plan for killing has just burst
If he goes out and kills again
He’ll make mistakes, they’ll catch him then.

And so the killings suddenly stop
****** numbers see a drastic drop
Can they catch him, who knows how?
Will thirty dead see justice now?

©JRW2014

It was the being hungry that drove him as he carefully sorted through
the broken and rotting detritus that was left by me and you
he rarely found a full bag, nor ever an item that was clean
for people dispose of ******* in disgusting ways that he used to find obscene.

He’d walked with his head held high once
– another time in the past
But a fear of the crowded, noisy hospital wards
– had shown itself at last.

He found that he couldn't cope with the pain in the now far distant eyes
of the people who recently lost loved ones and their pleas and desperate cries.

He took off his white jacket and walked out of the ward one day
and try as he did he was never able to go back there again.

He still read books as he wanted to seem to himself at least to be trying
but it was all so many years ago and these days the hunger pain stung
and though he’d only had his street skills he had somehow survived
despite the cancer inside him that was even now eating away at his lung.

When he had enough bits that he could once again call a meal
he slipped away from the others in the street to find a quiet spot
for the one thing that he had learned almost straight away
is that anyone – anyone – will steal what little bit you've got.

He was used now to seeing dead bodies – as other street people died
from hunger and disease and other times – just from being alone
some of the older ones always seemed weak and so fragile
and in winter they’d often end up frozen – frozen to the bone.

The days were getting shorter now and he often felt very insecure
he knew that his lungs were getting much worse and cold would weaken them badly
the winter would bring his last days this time as he struggled so hard to cope
he’d never expected to die on the street but he’d do it now quite gladly.

©Joe Wilson – He became hungry 2014

I fell from the top of a tall block of apartments.



How I remember my children growing

and the never-ending beauty of my wife

my boy and my girl, so full of knowing

my darling, the centre of my humble life.





But the ground rushes up at me as I fly down so fast.





I’ve loved the same woman for all of my time

contented and happy and passionate are we

I remember the night full of ***** and lime

when I asked my love if she would marry me.



And still the ground races up at me…





What joy we have had on our long journey here

with some pains that we’ve shared and endured

sadness has crept in and occasional fear

but we beat it all back and we still feel assured.





I hit the ground --- there is nowhere else to go…



Did I make it…did I not?

Was it a dream…was it not?

©The Executor acting for Joe Wilson – The Fall…2015

…and as I wandered through my mind
cluttered with memories of every kind
I smiled whenever I thought of you
the things we shared,
the love that grew.

…but time has caught us up at last
those memories all are in the past
yet still I smile at thoughts of you
loving our children
as they both grew.

…and when you ail I cannot bear
your being in pain that I can’t pare
yet as you smile to guide me through
I know I’d not survive
had I not you.

…as we've grown older our love remains
passionate as ever despite life’s strains
love is the greatest gift twixt two
I found life’s gift
when I found you…


©Joe Wilson – And as I wander…2015

a man needs a study
and a study I have
where I hide from the world
with my thoughts.
I write them all down
and think them all through
they go down through my fingers
that’s how my work grew.
some are quite big thoughts
yet more still are small
some of them don’t bear
much thinking at all.
but they all get assembled
in some sort of fashion
and get moved into poems
in my kind of a passion.

©JRW2014

… 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

For I would walk my love, with you
down lanes and through these pastures green
and we would talk as good friends do
of joy and life, in mood serene.

For man could find no better mate
than lifelong’s lover by his side
with things as these to cogitate
and stroll along in time’s great tide.

And as we glide along in peace
we talk and laugh enjoying life
my love continually doth increase
for you the one who is my wife.

To have found you so long ago
and loved you then as I do now
an angel surely let me know
the route to your heart, and the how.

If other men had love as mine
to grow and last a lifetime through
had lives all filled with hearts divine
and days of joy and romance new.

Such joy they too would countenance
and lives that feel so much more fine
as they cavort through merry dance
in life so wondrous such as mine.



©Joe Wilson – An angel surely let me know… 2014

He sits there reading, happy enough now in his own company
what is it he reads -ah yes – a Tale of Two Cities
a favourite, but one which evokes an old memory
of long ago when was just a young man.

Of a time when war raged across Europe like a plague
when it was in the grip of a madman bent
on seizing power everywhere and not caring how
and men like him and many of his friends went.

But then there seemed a real purpose to it
and besides, he met Françoise and loved her so
and later with many of his friends now dead
it was over so he went back home with Françoise instead.

Now she also is no more, killed by muggers who were armed
and he sits all alone, no girls, no sons
wondering why his country’s leaders
can never see the futility of all the guns.

Once more the planet rages with war
once more there will be unnecessary deaths
he finds himself wishing the impossible thought
the non-invention of guns, and it leaves him short of breath.

Sadly men would have just found another way to **** each other
– and that is the real problem. It never goes away.



©Joe Wilson – …it will never stop…2014

Carrying with it my dreams and you
The train pulled out – 11:42
I couldn’t but think I now was lost
I’d made a choice, too high the cost.

I think back now and pains return
Wiping eyes of tears that burn
And thinking brings you to my mind
The beauteous soul of one so kind.

Regrets I feel for that poor choice
I miss so much your tender voice
If such decisions I made anew
I’d never stay, I’d go with you.

So sorely how I wish that train
Would bring you to my arms again
Where we could grow our love once more
As lonely fills my empty core.

So much regret this foolish joe
I chose career and watched love go
And should I gain great opulence
I’d sit alone, there’d be no sense.

©Joe Wilson – The 11:42 to lonely… 2014

Travelling at speeds well beyond our understanding
Leaving behind a world now in total Armageddon
The spaceship travels light-years to reach somewhere
Anywhere that can bear the species alongside their own
A species so tired of war that they set out completely unarmed.

They were searching and searching for many aeons
Till they chanced upon Earth as a place to stay
Gravity was very good, the air would be perfect
But in violence such as they had left behind
we **** one another and other creatures too.

So they continued their search and quickly passed us by.



©Joe Wilson - Passed by...2014

A short piece of whimsy.

I remember
back to a time
when the black dog
hung around my neck
like a heavy yoke, I
could never be rid of
the terror that it
would not someday return
to seek me out and strike
me down again, and the knowing
how close I had come to succumbing.

I remember edging closer to the crowded
platform’s edge, too filled with fear to realise
the probable selfishness of what I was about to
do, only vaguely aware of where I actually was, but
just able to register that touch on my right arm
and the voice that quietly whispered, “I don’t really think
you want to do that.” I remember turning to see who’d said it
and seeing that there was just a crowd of people. Of the owner
of the voice there was no sign, but it had been enough.
It had been enough to make me realise where I was,
for the moment passed and I made my way back.

Back to the arms of the woman who had always loved me,
and who had carefully, lovingly, nursed me back to health
over such a long time. I wept. I put my head on her gentle
shoulder and I wept as I had never wept before. I wept for all
I still felt, and I wept for all the selfish anguish I would have
caused this woman had I let myself fall,

for that surely had been my intention.

©Joe Wilson – I remember…2014

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

I saw you there and I fell in love
I heard trumpets sounding from above
I’d found my angel, I’d found my muse
The one I cannot bear to lose.



©Joe Wilson – My muse…2014

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

A hint of sunshine
across the lawn
through winter trees
with leaves all shorn
is all it ever
really takes
to think of Summer
and boats and lakes.

With children playing
having fun
such joy they give
to everyone
and Winter blues
are chased away
not to return
at least today!



©Joe Wilson - Chased away...2015