Idly thinking I wonder where we will be in the future,                                                      
will we ever reach the stars after the death of our own world,                                                
killed by pollution, war and overcrowding?                                                    ­                                  
Will we do as in Rome, on a new planet?
If we survive that far.                                        
Our path is tough.
Some actions we do are abysmal, look at how we treat one another.
We do need to learn to talk and not shoot first.                                                           ­       
Yet there is hope, when we look up at the cosmos over our heads,                                                    
we can only wonder at its size and our tiny existence,
we are not arrogant then.                                                            ­                                                                 ­     
Brought down to earth, we know we have a chance, just one to get it right.                                    
If god were to judge us, what would he think?                                                           ­   
Agree or disagree with the way we do things?

NICK – ODD ONE OUT
I’ve never fitted in, no matter how hard I tried,
so I stopped.
Became more alternative back in 1991.
Found my gothic way. Still looked at today, strange.
I don’t care, it’s me you are laughing at. Leave me alone,
go to a scally and stare at them. I’ll never be one of you,
never want to be.
Often you inflict pain on me.
What if I did it to you?
Another oddball Goth goes off on one.
Nearly 35, stick to what I know, try new stuff,
ready for new adventure.
Me an oddball on his own planet.

Just your words on paper, nothing much,
random thoughts of daily life.
What if this was the last letter on earth?
Worth the world then or in my possession
if I was stranded far away on the moon
would your words be my lifeline and save me?
Or prolong my agony, make my stay there my Hell?
A curse or a blessing in my hands now.

The man was a real hard man often described in lower class words
By those who feared or respected or envied him
He was from Scotland and fought the Chinese Communists in Cambodia
In a backwater of the world that became a Cold War hotspot
For next door was Vietnam and the commies there fought the other commies
In a war that enveloped the area destruction on destruction
War happened and soldiers were deployed by all sides
Some of those troops were rather special ones
To do a special job in a ***** war where the killing wasn't clean
The hard man from Scotland was sent to a place far form his Highland home
His bagpipes were silent and stealth was his tool
Stalking ****** fighters in the Cambodian jungle
And doing what needed to be done to stop them dead
So we don't speaking Chinese now
Just like the Dead Kennedy's song that hailed a generation
Camdodian events remembered which fewer care about
The Scottish soldier is dead now but his widow remembers
It was her who told me the story of her SpecFor husband
How he played his pipes and won awards not just in battle
Him a Seargent Major Drill Instructor Full Metal Jacket style
Driving his car with his arms crossed barking orders and being the boss
Living in America with his American wife and drinking in bars
But being taken advantage of by the rednecks
In the nasty bars that wern't British pubs
More dangerous than the communist controlled Cambodian jungle
The life of the special forces soldier was certainly special
If not hush hush we don't talk about this it never happened
Except in the heads of the SAS troopers who were in Cambodia...

Failed Pills
I took pills all my **** life to cure this and that
None of them ever ******* work
So I write about my ailments instead
The way only I can words on the page
Putting my ills into them to free me
Who am I blooody kidding eh?
Myself to give me some backbone
And MAN IT UP NICK!
But that doesn't change how I feel
Nor take way the illnesses that rest inside
Waiting to get me like a manman with a saw
I'd love to meet such a crazy
At least he could chop me up
Thus reducing my ailments by number
Till then I suffer the world of this
My reality not in pain but something else
The thing called life enduring sensation
A word to replace pain multiple blows
I feel them all and till I finally rest...

World Creation

The world wasn't built on fat laziness

But some people are so **** lazy MM

The world wasn't built on false hopes
But some people are fine liars

The world wasn't built on fake cash

But some people are excellent fraudsters

The world wasn't built on blood money

But some people are lethal gangsters

The world wasn't built on unwanted love

But some people are striving companionship

The world wasn't built on secret deals

But some people are blindly forgetting

The world wasn't built on false respect

But some people are double crossers

The world wasn't built on empty words

But some people are very gullible

The world wasn't built on forefather's guilt

But some people are short sighted

The world wasn't built on yellow gold

But some people are simply stupid

The world wasn't built on torrid affairs

But some people are emotionally damaged

The world wasn't built on loaded guns

But some people are always targetted

The world wasn't built on truthful principles

But some people are false gods
The world wasn't built on our wishes

But some people are always blind

The world wasn't built on our reality

But some people are born ******

garnets and emeralds
the pretty girl
puts on some blusher
from her compact case
on it is an image

just like her

a pre-raphaelite print
this girl scans the sky
her eyes always above
she watches the planes
go out and come back
for she counts them all

one by one

is her guy up there?
or is he missing?
she remembers him
and cares for his comrades
the girl who counts the planes
for she loves all the crew

not just pilots

as much as she loves her land
the girl who counts planes
how many failed to return?
there's a ring on her finger...