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John Bartholomew Dec 2019
Stubbed your toe just getting out of bed
It's gonna be, one of those days

Its cold and it's wet and its not getting better
Well that's what the weatherman just said

Slap that smile on and say hello to the world you just dread
This modern world of Tristan's and Justin's, I just don't fit as a Fred

Listening to country blues on the bus as the kids turn up their Kiss
Sometimes I'd like to answer with a smile and 5 finger clenched fist

At times I'd just like to be left alone in a world of my own dreams
Where Jesus could just hold me as his sunbeam

Do the others ever ask for 10 B&H and a packet of Rizla
Heck, I've been doing so since I was a kid, yeah

For this world of my own is a place of sanctuary where I'm safe
These thoughts are my own, my dreams, my own place

Shakespeare I think had the same ideas of worlds away
Where he often thought the same, always having just like me

One of the days

JJB
John Bartholomew Nov 2019
Sometimes empty
Sometimes full
Depends what its been used for by this downright fool
If it's Pepsi, Fanta or an orange from his own *****
He never thought it's be a place to empty his fragile groin
As a bladder with what has a mind of its own
The inevitable can happen with your mind that's now blown
As the first time its a shock and you cant believe whats happened
But be prepared sonny as you cant let things slacken
Pull up behind the biggest tree
A feeling of oncoming dread that cannot happen to me
You search all the nearest windows as no spectators here
Unzip, todger out, catheter into that empty container
This ain't the way the nurses said, hygiene, germs, ***** hands
They'd cry if they saw this is the way they trained you
Thank God for that fizzy drink, that thing you drop with hand controls, driving at full throttle
For we never learn, quick, pass the drink, as I swigg out of that said bottle

JJB
John Bartholomew Nov 2019
Silence is sound I sometimes crave the most,
I sit in another room,
With stillness,
Just light,
Not a creak to be heard or angst within sight

Such passion, such roar
Let me just feel my softcore
As those clatterings can carry on elsewhere
Empowered in such grace
Sometimes you do not have to see it's face
To just know it's the kind of future for you

As I lay down here just looking up at the sky
The fields all surround me with their beauty
A natural aroma that sometimes can hold you
Can warm you,
Can charm you,
And now have seen you through,
Away from the surrounds that have just become,

Graceless

JJB
“When you don't know where you're going, you drive on the highway.”
― Roger Hedden, Bodies, Rest and Motion.

“the costume of the nineteenth century is detestable. It is so sombre, so depressing. Sin is the only real colour-element left in modern life.”
― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

“What a lovely thing, to shut up and listen and not broadcast anything back. There’s a certain serenity in it and even a kind of light grace.”
― Michael Harris
John Bartholomew Nov 2019
Not all yours but at first glance it looks like they are your fine pile
Lanzarote, Greece, even the Tower called Eiffel
Clumped together like a map of exceeding heats
From Lisbon down to Cape Town
Tell me of these differing seats

Did you really fly through the depths of the Grand Canyon
Or take a helicopter to that quiet place known as the Scilly Islands
Yet venture the climbing follies around Ben Nevis
And take a gondola ride around the canals of Venice

The adventure parks known as Chessington and Alton Towers
Where the rides left a taste that came out as sour
Your friends have bought you such distance as OZ and NZ
Where they'd be flying in the sky and you'd be at home in your bed

One day I will have the money and aspiration to fly to such a place
For now I will let the young adventurers fly away with such grace
As I seem to be grounded without the bank-to-fly
Do I really want to thoroughly say goodbye?

Hmm, Well I know what you mean
I'm slightly batty to have crazy yet ambitious dreams
So don't poke around my passport looking for stamps to check
As like lies on my fridge magnet door, I haven't been there yet

Fridge Magnets (most of them are fibs you know)

JJB
Do no take this poem seriously. If you do then you need psychiatric help
John Bartholomew Oct 2019
Telling lies,
we all do it.

I'm flat footed so couldn't join the army
(Nothing wrong with my feet, I'm just scared of fighting)

I'm colourblind with certain shades of red
(Nothing wrong my eyesight, it's just something I once said)

I once caught a pike over thirty pound in weight
(I only won a goldfish once, when at the village fete)

Telling my mates in the pub I was man of the match with a hat trick
(When I was really curled up in bed, hungover and half sick)

Bungee jumped a thousand feet up, into a Kiwi lagoon
(When I was really eating breakfast in bed, only in my hotel room)

I've travelled the world, been far, been wide to tell you all this crap
(I turn it on with such truth, it's all from Google Maps)

As people are gullible, fascinated by stories of lies and endeavour
(Words can be misconstrued,changed to make you sound clever)

We meet them on a daily basis, these fiends with a thousand foes
(Just full of lies, boiling up, from their fingers down to their toes)

But it's not just me as you look at the other person in the room
(How long until you suss them out, albeit not too soon)

For we all tell the odd porky, even if it is a little white lie
But sometimes they become to much and then its hello, bye -bye

Stupid ****** Lies (Don't believe a word they say)

JJB
“If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.”
― Mark Twain

“I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche

“I lie to myself all the time. But I never believe me.”
― S.E. Hinton, The Outsiders

“If you tell a big enough lie and tell it frequently enough, it will be believed.”
― Adolf ****** (Really?)
John Bartholomew Oct 2019
If the BBC...
Knew how we all really do talk in the car,
Of our real opinions,
Our views,
Of what we think of certain people in life,
How our daily chat is embroiled in what they don't report,
Our loves that don't include politics,
A real box to tick,
Who we hate,
Who we really do rate,
And who should go into that next big seat at No.10,
Then the BBC should speak to the man on the street,

The British builder,
The factory worker
The delivery driver
The plumber
The average office worker
The struggling student and not those whose parents have money
The small towns near Grimsby,Bristol and those in Newcastle
The real man
The Nine til Five and then the Seven til' Eleven
The every penny earnt and still they are struggling

If the BBC actually reported on this,
Then this would be the real Britain they would be showing,
Yet,

JJB
John Bartholomew Oct 2019
Come at me with what you will
I take no offence at your thoughts that are ill
Throw those words,
Bombard me,
Harass me,
Try and really hurt me,
Watch them bounce into the depths of nowhere
You'd better sit down as your gonna need a chair
As your words of corruption really do not scare
I have elephant skin,
I'll take it on the chin,
And find somewhere else to begin
As I do not deflate
It's just a thing called fate
Your endless dramas became a bit long in the tooth as,
These bones and skin are now, lets just say,

Puncture proof

JJB
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