After all that has been done
The skills that were crafted
The person that you crafted
Was it all done
Just to hide away?

When melancholy takes over
and opportunity is within sight, but not within reach
It is formidable, tempting, optimistic and pessimistic, all at the same time!
Where else but within a hideaway

When shame and self doubt simultaneously break you
Or rather corner you as two walls closing in
Along with shelter and independence
They form the hideaway

Outside voices dip into your consciousness
Like a ping pong ball trying to penetrate a brick wall
Offering simple advice and above all else begging you
Not to hide away

But before and after the beginning of the hideaway
The social clock summons you
And you must follow and in this moment
You couldn't hideaway

The power within controls us
The power that that we have
The power that we made
The power that you have honed since you were born, and the power that you have built around, and made yourself around
And you made choices that built you
And did you really become who you are
Just to hide away?

"Better men have realized alone is not a venture
A decent man would realize alone is not a venture
Just to hide away, hide away"

Once you realize that alone is no where to live but perhaps to unwind
You will be at peace in body and in mind
And once you remember yourself and your journey that you've been on since birth to build yourself into who you want to be...
Once I wrote this poem...
I couldn't hide away

Secret Hideaway

Stolen moments pulled from here, pulled from there
little slices of time that we can share
reaching out our open hand we try so very hard
to satisfy the needs before the changing of the guard
sneaking away, exchanging glances, we know we cannot stay
but it is our little moment in our secret hideaway

often we are ducking, avoiding detection
sacred words added to the bottle, our own sweet collection  
when times are bleak we reach inside, pull one out to read
finding that very special one that fills the current need
our hidden world, in a hidden place, we meet there everyday
it isn't much, but it's all we have, our secret hideaway

Gomer LePoet...

Summer days and heatwaves
Sweat pouring down our skin
Working hard no time to rest
From the time the day begins.

Bailing hay without a shade
Not a single cloud insight
Gathering all the barely corn
We work until the night.

we have a little hideaway
A place down in the vale
Its where we drink some scrumpy
Along with beer and ale.

We while away  an hour or more
Depending on how we feel
We rest and take it easy
No sound from the tractors wheel.

Now tomorrow is another day
Our work load it will keep
We may be striming hedge grows
Or we may be shearing sheep.

But we really are not bothered
We've been farmers far too long
We carry out our dutys
And sometimes with a song.

Our lives are hard but simple
We are living the country life
Away from the city and the fumes
From cars and such alike.

You see we have this hideaway
A little place down in the vale
So come along and join us
At the end of a farmers day

All that I have left to say
Is I need a place to hideaway
As life sends me to an early grave
Sooner than ever, never late

Feel like I've been punched in the gut
Stuck here in this daily rut
No one around to wish me luck
Knocked down hard where I can't get up

All the excuses that I have made
From yesterday up to today
Leaving not much left to say
'Cept I need a hideaway

From the back up to the front
To late now to order out my lunch
Call it what you will but it's still a hunch
One again my teams been cut

Standing outside the city gate
As I watch them give it all away
Not sure I can face another day
Certain I need a hideaway

PARODY OF "OCTOPUS'S GARDEN" BY RINGO STARR.

I'd like to be in the country
In a marijuana garden in the shade
They'd let us skid, and smoke a lid
In a marijuana garden in the shade

I'd ask my friends to come and smoke
A bowl of good until they all choke
I'd like to be in the country
In a marijuana garden in the shade

We would find digs, and ditch the pigs
In our little hideaway inside a van
Resting our head on a truck bed
In a marijuana garden on a ranch.

We would laugh at stupid ****.
We'd forget why and take a hit.
I'd like to be in the country
In a marijuana garden in the shade

We would smoke and talk about
The police that put us all away
(put your stoner *** away)
Oh I'm high! I'm high as the blue sky
Forgot to go to work today.
(Unemployed today)

We would be so toasted you and me
No one there to call the boys in blue
I'd like to be in the country
In a marijuana garden with you
In a marijuana garden with you
In a marijuana garden with you

The way Sunday sits in its secret hideaway paradise
at the end of the week
It's legs carelessly kicking at the lake,
with wet bare feet
making concentric circles in the water with its toes

That's how you make me feel.

The terrible truth is...
I love that I can run away!
That I can escape into this world...
Where everything is anything I want it to be.


Where you are just a figment of my imagination.
And, I can make you so much sweeter.
And there is no negativity,
no melancholy drama.

Here the animated beauty I see,
lies within everything, even you.
I can twist your evil words into a sweet sweet song ringing in my head.
The animosity in the room is not palpable,
and there is only a longing to dance in rhythm.

Oh I love this land of make believe!
Where just a word turns into a constant outflow.
Or a solitude thought of fantasy,
becomes an intriguing and engulfing page.

I love the traffic jam in my head,
just waiting to become permanent ink.
Words strung together never to be taken back,
to just linger in the world....
waiting for someone to cherish them.

To open eyes and minds....
To inspire and ignite imagination and individuality!
To provide an escape for you and them...
To provide a mental island for myself.

Inside my blissful hideaway..
Everything is so comfortable!
No rules to follow, no expectations to meet.
Complete freedom.*
Oh how I do love it here.....

My lips curl about your name,
like a newborn wraps its tiny fingers
around yours, clinging to your body
as if you are the air I need to breathe.
I want to tangle myself
within your limbs while you hold
me as tight as it takes to
mend me back together.
Your breath is warm against
the surface of my skin,
kisses to my wounds,
both the visible and
the invisible,
as you whisper your love
deep within my ears.
The words resonate through my
insides, swimming my veins,
pumping like blood through my heart.
Your fingers explore the geography
of my body, mapping the curves and
valleys that you’ve settled in.
I am a log cabin in the woods
of our bed, tucked away within
the cover of our sheets,
and you’re looking for home.

(20 minute poetry)

The boy with the goggles looked a little bit like Biggles.

On a ride away into a brighter day and I'll head for the hills to where my favourite hideaway waits.

So this boy who looked like Biggles with his goggles on googles me,
I don't mind
though I'm
not sure what he'll find once inside the web.

Haha giggling Biggles takes off his goggles and googles me more and it doesn't even tickle which is a bit of a bore.

In my hideaway, I see all sorts of strange things as if strange things had a part to play in this film of my life.

Today is the day for the breakaway,
the day I become the takeaway and the hideaway will just have to hide away until I visit again probably Wednesday or whenever the weather permits.

And what then of Biggles with goggles he wears like they're Rayban's?
I was one of biggest fans and then he went away, I think that he found my hideaway,
I'll find out the truth on Wednesday
weather permitting
of course.