Terrorism, ****,
Car bomb, *******...
She feels vulnerable,
No love to keep her warm

9/11, kidnap,
Human trafficking...
She’s been forgotten,
Left alone in the dark

Serial killers, H1N1,
Child molesters, ***...
She shudders with the cold,
And Port Au Prince is flattened

Hijack, ******,
Drive-by shootings...
She feels groggy,
Influenza sets in

Weapons of mass destruction,
Cuban nuclear tests...
There starts a tingle in her nose,
Her eyes pinch shut

Genocide, organs on the black market,
Xenophobia, suicide bombers...
With a bellow from her bowels,
From flaming ice the cumulus anvil that infects the world

I hear the foot steps coming… stomping down the hall,
In my room I shut my eyes and wait for the blow to fall.
From the uneven walking and the swearing that I hear,
I know it’s not you I can expect, as I slowly dry a tear.

He’d come home drunk, having lost his job, and started hitting you mom,
You had simply asked him how we’d live without him making tom.
But he lost his rag, maybe stress, and pulled you by your hair,
Next thing you knew you couldn’t move and he’d broken another chair.

This time you knew he’d gone too far, but you could just painfully stare,
As he kicked and beat your numb body till you lay there bare.
To scream from the pain in your back you opened your mouth, but not a word came out,
Then you closed it again, afraid to loose the rest of your teeth as down came another clout.

Now downstairs there’s silence, as he realizes what he’s done,
Then in fear and anger he makes his way upstairs to finish what he’s began.
His drunken mind tells him that if he’s ever found out,
He’ll spend his years in a jail, having to sit it out.

So now I sit here mom, with only a few seconds to go,
My heart trembling and the tears begin to flow.
It’s not how I expected the end to come, from a man I once called “dad”,
But I know tomorrow when he’s sobered up, he’s the one who’ll be sad.

And that’s why these tears I’m crying, it’s for him, cause I know he’s not bad,
And now when me and mom are gone, I hope he’ll remember all the good times we’ve had.
I don’t blame him at all for this thing he’s done… no, not at all,
Drinking is many people’s weakness, it’s many’s downfall.

But the man I really blame is the one behind the bar,
He stands there watching, giving him drink, knowing he’s gone too far.
He’s only there for the money and couldn’t care for his life,
So may it be on him, the blood of his daughter and his wife.

Summoning a waterfall
He fills the sea
Commanding sweet hail
Into its milky depths

His steely trident
Churns up a maelstrom
Raising a soaked raft of leaves
He casts it from the sea

And laying aside his trident
Raises his cup and sips his tea

“Come join the joy ride.”
‘cause life’s a rollercoaster.
You can live life on the sidelines,
Watching others raise their arms and scream
Or you can get in line and live life to the full!

There will be up-hills,
And moments when you feel like you’re standing still,
But that’s when you must lift your eyes,
For right then the whole world stretches out before you!

And once you’ve crested those hills,
Be sure that shortly there’ll be a wonderful drop,
Where your stomach will flip,
And you’ll feel the butterflies!

For that’s life,
Up-hills and down-hills,
But so long as when the ride stops you can say,
“Now that was one hell of a ride!”.

As i lay asleep last night
my mind wondered through the window and out of sight
catching a ride on a passing crow
it went places i’ll never go

Gliding it passed over palms and rivers
swooping under waterfalls left me with shivers
rising on a warm sea breeze high
it watched the golden sun set and with a sigh

Returned begrudgingly to where bedridden i lay
paralysed, a vegetable as they say

In the coven’s cavern
Dark and dusky
Wart and Weird
A potion are planning

Boiling and bubbling
The cauldron they caress
Eye of emu
Finger of fiend

Mutter and mumble
Hair of hare
Claw of cat
Splash and sparks

With a wicked whisper
A **** and a poke
A whip of a wand
Silent strangling smoke

Covered beneath her cloak
A vile vial full
The murderous magic made
A dead baron as bade

Blank
They stare at me
Oblivious
To the rage below

Congregating in corners
They plot against me
Sadistically
Blocking out the world

Chained
Voice eludes my tongue
Hoarse from silence
Deafened by its echo

Determined
My will hammers away
Rhythmic
I will not succumb

Heart beats or sledge strokes?
I will break free

Here we come a galloping
Across the emerald plains
Carefree and happy
The wind tugging at our manes

Just on a whim
We chase a passing cloud
Then watch the golden sunset
Nickering out loud

Then along came the white man
A painted horse to claim
He tried to break our nature
He tried to make us tame

But across those emerald plains
our hearts will ever be
Like the wind in our manes
Strong, wild and free

My sports car’s bumper is redder than your pale lips,
And it’s Parrelies blacker than your silver flecked hair.
The TSW mags are genuine chrome, not only the lightly rooted tips,
And the smooth, glossy bonnet not wrinkled like your dial from care.

The seats are a plush tan, not a stark, unsightly white like you,
And the V12’s rev is an unmistakeable sound.
The speedometer reads 360, if ever beaten, only by a few,
And when I’m done it resides in splender, and not six foot underground.

The shatterproof windshield is clearer than your misty grey eyes,
And its model number reads 2004, not a dozen and three score more.
The Ferrari I own is the best that money buys,
And it makes me proud to say, “It’s mine!”, not a nuisance for 40years I’ve bore.

Now when Top Car says Ferrari 2005 I’ll need another,
But my love for you is timeless and can be filled by none other!

Jaws of steel
Fangs of a cobra
Sharp as razors
Glint in the dim light

Under his control
Viciously they rip
The staples out
As he sorts his papers

The dark clouds writhe
like serpents in the sky
and belch down brimstone
where unicorns asleep they lie

In the distance Mordor's spear
dominates on high
demanding submission
from whence dragons fly

They search the jagged peaks
For one ring to rule them all
The fiery evil eye it beckons
and Frodo heeds it's call

I swung wide my shutters this morning at dawn
To witness the beauty as another day was born.
Too early I’d risen for the cool of night yet hung there,
Her eyes still sparkled and indigo graced her hair.

Slowly as her cheeks flushed with rose,
And periwinkle adorned her face at night’s close,  
In a frost covered bush a fluffy bird stirred,
A rustle, then a flutter and soon a chirp could be heard,

A flurry of wings and the windowsill bore a Bluejay.
Proudly, clearly, these were the words he had to say;

“Goodbye dark velvet of night,
Sink lower and be gone from sight.
Up now golden yoke of day
Cast your diamonds upon the expectant bay.
Arise too folks of Sleepy Hollow,
For the sun has risen and gone be your sorrow”.

Abracadabra Kazam!
Went my wand
Bright sparks fizzled
Of magic I'm so fond!

With a flick of my wrist
i swat away all fear
for with a plop
on a mat I appear

I wished upon a lonely star
which shone so brightly in the night sky
smiling down at me from afar
just a twinkle in heavens eye

I wished it was not just a ball
of fiery gas and icy dust
but understood my love, loneliness and all
and wept a little if it must

I wished upon a lonely star
and funny enough here you are!

Obscure, drawn, demented
With mouths agape
We blend in wishing to stand out

The mop that sloshes
Keeps us clean
But below its dark and dingy

Our screams of pain
Aching to be heard
Are masked by the ever shiny wax

Too long have the feet of oppressors trodden us down
The scuffs that scar these weary forms
But the day has come

Voice has reached the mouthing
The trapped are breaking free
Too long unheard, too long absurd

Now we stand on high
Our feet on even ground
No boot shall ever again trod us down

I pull open the cover,
a trap door to the deck.
“Weigh the anchor!”
and with a splash the adventure  begins.

”Trim your sails!”
and the curtain ***** behind me.
The bow of Old Salt splits the waves
and I wipe the spray from my glasses.

There’s mutiny aboard the ship.
With cutlasses drawn I hear them charge,
the “pok-pok” of a peg leg
is my dad at the door.

“It’s twelve gone”, he says
and I see them fall to the deck.
In the heat of the action
there’s no time to count the loss!

There’s a shout from the door,
“They’ve scuttled the ship!”
My feet get cold
as the hull fills up.

The water is rising
it dowsers my candle.
The crew is sprawled awkwardly on the still, red-dyed deck,
as the leather bound novel falls from my bed…

Thunder and crackle
Lightning and spark
A whirl of colour
Igniting the dark

Heavy handed Harold
With quiet Quinton quarrelled
Fighting for fine filly
Slapped he said silent silly

When wooed woman was aware
Bout the beating he did bare
She scorned the scolding suitor
And courted Quinton, the cuter

Slowly the day is dowsed by night
as the clumsy sun trips over the horizon
and is gone from sight

The swallows morph into their darker side
and screeching fill the twilight skies
in fear all creatures retreat and hide

Silence falls heavy covered in soot
none stir except for the owl’s mournful hoot

A silencer on an a-bomb
A muzzle on a leviathan
A band aid for the plague
A Rennie for Kracotowa
and a hanky for swine flu
Such are flowers on a grave

What say you noble men of old?
William with your pen shaking
Like the Speare of a savage?
Spilling your mind across the pages
Which Robert in all his haste Burns

And you lonely Oscar?
Having passed Eugene in the corn Field
And Rupert by the trickling Brooke,
Only to lose yourself in the Wilde

What say you of Edgar Lee,
Who left his Masters
And with Swift Jonathan
Crossed the Gray Moore to the Thomas’s

And when said Thomas stood
With handman, noose and Hood
“What a pity”, as Robert said
Laying them in their winters Graves

Armed with spears
They stand on the ramparts  
Of the wall you built around your heart
To keep love out

The tar and fire
Falling from your lips
Burns at the forces
Bashing at its door

But there’s no retreat
From this battle that I’m in
Volunteers springing up
Willing to rush at your walls

Pierced by your words
Some crumble and fall
Taunts from catapults fly
Crushing men where they lie

But through the flurry of arrows that fall
The flag that I carry shields me from it all
Proud and white it ***** on high
“I Love you” it reads, I will not die!

On a tight rope above the void
A precarious porcelain sentry
My sanity stands guard
Refusing repressed rage entry

Mold covered memories
Reek from the corners where they hide
Of summers in the sun
Splashing in the tide

Muttering in under tones
Dementia’s pacing the floor.
Beckoning chaos inside,
Paranoia’s fidgeting at the door

With one final ****
The sentry takes a fall
Slitting my wrists with the feather of despair
Give way to darkness, give way to all

Worn… the scenes are vivid
Of angry protests,
Scowling faces,
And the sharp knife that rips the flesh.

The **** of hate that wounds our nation
Clear stares me in the eyes.
There’s no mistaking the gun he’s wielding,
As in another hi-jacking a mother dies.

Removed… the vivid scenes are vague,
The protests are joyful dances,
Smiles on every side
And the knife a lollypop shared between lovers.

Our nation healed and united
Flows free before my eyes.
There’s no mistaking the flag he’s waving
As proud above one nation it flies.

This view may be dim and the edges… a slight blur,
But this is how I prefer to view our nation…
…without my glasses.

I felt the stab of pain
From a brother in the hood
One seeking to rise to fame
I thought he understood.

I taste the bitter in what he said
As he spits the words out
“I wish you were dead”
He just verified my doubt.

I hear the cries for pity
In our own neighborhood,
Not across the state or in another city
I hear the cries that no one ever should.

I smell the stench of betrayal
Of the brother who killed his mate.
“And thus he came to the end of his trail”,
Said the pastor, as silent he lays in state.

I see the mother dab her eye
She’s crying for our state
It’s not just the other guy
It’s our nation drowned in hate!

Alone stand I this solemn night, alone.
Alone I am the judge and witness, alone,
And I ask myself a question,
One I must answer to myself and by myself, alone,
“Am I ever alone?”

Alone; no one near… Alone?
Alone; not a friend to hear… Alone?
Alone; not a God to fear… Alone?
I ask myself, “Alone?”

Then think I; “there’s an all-seeing Eye…!”
And warmth returns, the Comforter is near.
To remembrance comes; “I will never leave you”… never.

Therefore stand I this solemn night alone,
Yea, alone with them that will stand alone,
Declaring that I am never alone!

... they are the nameless
the suggestors
the invisible advisors
because if “they say”, then that’s how it is

... no faces
yet resounding words
they echo in our heads
are they conscience?

puppet masters
influencing our actions
we’d stake our lives on it,
... because they say

manipulating the spineless
a mirage of wisdom to fools
quoting quotes of the quoted
they say it... we repeat it

our fair weather reference
the convenient alibi
a rumour circulated
returning modified to suit the occasion

who are they... but us?

I built my life on dreams;
castles in the sky
sat back, reposed
And watched the world drift on by

I wished upon it peace
As I looked at it afar
and from my cotton wool world,
This dream wasn't far!

I dreamed of it free,
smiles on every face
as the whipped cream parted
and it drifted off in space

Fresh from the incubator… we come out a box,
Newly born and eager to burn.
The doctor’s smack lights the wick,
A weak flicker is the start.

In his teens the wind bends the flame to go with the flow,
But flickering moments of dark then light
Teach it straight to grow
And that the way of shadows is not the way to go.

The steady flame now burns long,
Wide shedding light for many to follow.
But the etch of wax-runs on his face
Tell of many a hard year come and gone.

Now the wick is growing short,
As bent he leans upon a stick.
Once again the flame is weak… just a glow,
As dimly now he views the world.

Sadly it begins to flicker… crackle
His voice hoarse from years of shinning.
Finally down comes the cold dowser
And swiftly snuffs out the life.

Now only rises his spirit… a mere wisp of grey
As once again he lays waxen white… in a box.

The waves of that night
Were wilder than could be
There was no safe or sound place in sight
And the vessels bobbed like corks upon the sea

The churning of the maelstrom with mouth open wide
Drew me nearer with each violent surge
And still deeper sank I, struggling against the tide
To reach the side, the shore was my only urge

The hurricane winds that hit the waves made them rip
I struggled to avoid drowning as I felt the tempest’s wrath
And when my frantic hand finally got a grip
I stood up, closed the window and got out of the bath

The steam that rises from the shell
Mists up the scope lens
A steady hand etches a heart
Through which the other bleeds

A tattered pass absorbs the flood
Inches from the silent hand
That reached beneath his thread bare coat
A white flag not received

The towel-head becomes another scratch
A tally of the toll
A line on the barrel of a hired gun
No space for numbers here

A dog-eared girl
Watermarked in red
Stares up from the inner cover of the pass…
… daddy won’t be coming home tonight

Bewitched,
and by your beauty captivated
A voluntary slave
Bound in fetters of love

Compelled,
Like the street sweepers daughter
Eagerly I step into your chamber
My will chained, devoted

Turning,
Your eyes like coals fall upon me
Wooed into your steely shroud
Your warmth like the brazen bull it surrounds me

My conscience divided
Dislocated on the Pendulum
Whispering-nothings pierce me through
the Spanish tickler scourges out all resistance

Fiercely flogged in the stocks of your passion
Water boarded by my tears
Scorched in the heat of the moment
My will flayed away by a thousand cuts

My heart broken on the wheel of fate
I surrender, i hold nothing back
“I’ll confess” I scream
“I love you!”

“love hurts”
I hear you say
And my heart with the Spanish spider ripped out
Paraded on a spike, for the world to see


Even now,
With my head held high, on the heretics fork
Burned at the stake by the fire you’ve kindled within
I am consumed with you

Pitter-patter; tears on the roof,
The world sleeps knowing not the grief,
And in dawning hours the gage is proof
Of a tear shed for life… oh so brief!

The face of the sky is darkly troubled,
Unnoticed by the sleeping world below
Unconcerned nor woken by the tear drops doubled
Weeping o’er what they all ought to know.

The gushing sounds of torrents, of sorrow
For a world who really ought to care,
The rising waters of destruction for the morrow
Only stirs one here and there.

The gurgling sounds of a drowning people
Wake a dying world with a start,
Too late they’ve learnt that Life’s not below a steeple,
But within a sincere and humble heart!

Like a stick man
I danced across the pages of your heart
Page after page
Ream after ream
Living my dream

Time passed so fast i got lost
in the origami of your emotions
Found myself torn out of your story
Floating away on a breeze of regret
As you faded into memory

Naive, my age splashed across each sheet
I never dreamed you’d cheat
Your expression blank
like the new page I’m trying to turn

Our lives smudged with tears
Our love erased by mistakes
Where did we go wrong?
There’s no paper trail
So draw me a map back to your heart

Hush now baby
Close your eyes
Drift off to sleep
For God watches from the skies

His Head inclined
He listens to your sighs
And reaching down
Dries all tears from your eyes.

You smile
You swear
You tease
You cheat
You lie
You scream
You cry

You are sad
You are sorry
You are you

You are mine

In my mind I see them, children of the land,
Black as darkest Africa, standing with an outstretched hand.
I see their stomach’s bloated, signs of despair,
Yet on I go with my life and couldn’t even care.

I smell the stench of flesh as vultures have their meal,
Yet my heart’s turned hard… too hard to feel.
…Hey I’m on top of the world, living out in Hollywood,
Everything’s fine and dandy… “It’s all good”.

Yet you and me we know, that somewhere they’re still out there,
But it’s far away in Africa, why should we even care?
I see their plight on TV and hear it on the news,
But that’s someone else’s problem, we all have our own views.

After all, it’s money that they’re really asking for,
And when it comes to that, well I just shut the door.
Cause even if I help them, they’ll only sink down deeper,
And after all… “Who made me my brother’s keeper?”.

Now in my mind they haunt me, these children of the land,
For I know I saw them standing with an outstretched hand.
And now when I see them lying… dying… thin, torn and bare,
I look down at that outstretched hand and can’t help but stare.

And although I pinch myself and vigorously blink my eyes,
I must painfully accept what now my heart denies.
For the hand that lies before me was painfully pierced through,
With a cruel rusty nail that was meant for me and you.

Now when in darkest Africa, walking down the street,
And just by chance, a child of the land, I’d happen to meet.
No longer will I cause a fuss and say,
“You’re bothering me”, “I have no time, just go away!”.

Instead I’ll take that hand, grip it real tight,
Open my heart and spread a little light.
For now I know the truth and although I shrink in shame,
The fact is: a heart without charity cannot call on His Name!

Parched am I oh Lord
and my soul cracked
as the dry river bed
crying for a summers rain

Quench this thirst Father
that my cup may run over
filling the souls depths
that the fruits of the Spirit
may ever flourish on the banks thereof

“To my Love”… I start the letter
Which I know will be a curse,
For we said we’d be together, for better…
And for worse.

Each line that I pen
Forces a tear from my eye,
For I reminisce of back-then
Before I knew I was about to die.

Ah, the warmth of summer days,
Before receiving the dark news,
But somehow they seem a haze
Of autumn and of hues.

The good times we had
Seem to dance before me
Never were you sad
You seemed so happy… so free.

But now with my letter and life
Both about to end
I sign off with a tear and all my love for you my wife,
My love… my friend

Oh that the deepest Love
Would come to a heart
Like a hand, tight in a glove
Holding a pen, and there make a start.

Oh that ink were deeds
Sweet memories and smiles,
For just the owners heart who reads
Would I on hearts paper write for miles and miles.

Oh that moments were lasting
And time slow in its swift passing
…Just that all were made in love’s sweet casting.

Time is of present
And oft, a pen love’s tool.
So may the present moments be pleasant,
For we know not the future and of it how cruel.

Oh that loves pen had permanent ink
That of moments, sweet memories and smiles
In ones heart could forever be writ!

So many times we’ve decided, “Its time we split up!”,
But then we find we just can’t give up.
It’s not for each other; it’s for the children we care,
On them it’s unfair,
They stand in the corner helpless and bare.

There’s so much to remember my daughter, my son,
But all I can think of is myself on the run,
And who am I trying to get away from? You or the grave?
When I look deep inside it’s myself I’m trying to save!
Selfish! Cruel!
Like a stoney hearted fool!

I can feel it’s icy coldness against my temple as I level the gun,
And a voice deep inside saying, “No! Think of your son!”
As my finger tightens on the trigger,
I can see the out line of his little figure,
With his hands clasped together,
As he says goodbye…forever!