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Feb 2015 · 381
The writer
You throw me off balance with your twitter!

Talking with your head inside
a face book,

Don’t you know writers are finely tuned?

And like to be nowhere, except inside there own heads.

We are a selfish lot at times.

Now be quite and let me think!
Inside he was screaming, but he was too far out
for his wife to hear.
"poor man" The wife said "he's shouted all of his life".
Still inside the man was screaming.
"I heard you dear" Smiled the wife.
"Your shouting again".
But she never listened. I was much to far out
all of my life.
Inside i was screaming, not shouting.
Feb 2015 · 2.1k
Boudicca warrior queen. AD61
Boudicca, long hair tangled and bunched; fiery flame red hair.

Warrior queen of the Iceni, daughter of these isles of tin.

Defender of freedom, leader of men, slayer of legions.

Through the mist the Britons, Celtic in origin; saw the legions.

Row upon row of tightly packed troops, shields locked together!

Flanked on either side by cavalry.  Above the silence orders could

Be heard echoing across the field, the leather harness’s creaked

Metal chinking, horses stomping and snorting, in the stillness.

Through the mist came the first rays of sunlight glinting on sharpened

Swords and spearheads; horns began to blow as the steady

Stomp of the legions moved forward in formation.

Boudicca’s eyes peered out from a face of blue woe. Bow strings

In turn began to creak death, as archers pulled back on their bows.

A slow chant from the Iceni, slow at first, began to build into a crescendo

Of noise, as the boom, boom of sword and axe rapped against wood shields.

Boudicca flame haired warrior queen stood proud and fearless on her chariot;

Daughters on each side of her, defiant against Gaius Suetonius Pauline’s

And the might of Rome.

Oh what a sight it must have been!
Feb 2015 · 347
Ode to a tramp.
To muse among the flowers

and through the field to roam

I while away the hours

as on I walk alone

Along the river path I stroll

across the lock I stride

as onward walked alone my soul

when I lay down and died.
Feb 2015 · 3.8k
Doors.
Enticing us in, sugar coated doors

for sticky fingers,

Doors of mystery, keep out, staff only

nettled in barbed wire.

Half open doors full of promise,

chocolate soft centred

Exciting doors, silk covered

in lace suspenders

Inspiring doors, Leonardo bold italic,

uppercase only

Lonely doors all shuttered in silence,

cobweb covered

Sad doors, tear stained

and umbrella wet

Happy doors,

candy striped in laughter

Forbidden doors, Pandora boxed,

best kept locked

Revolving doors covered

with the same sticky mistakes

Trap doors crocodile sprung

to catch you out

Doors that slide on tram like runners,

buffered into walls with imprint of face

Secret doors of camouflaged chameleon

Troubled doors

thunder clapped in turmoil

Doors enticing us.
Feb 2015 · 774
Desert in my head
(memories of a lost youth)

There is a desert in my head;

An emptiness of shifting sands

That houses a Bedouin of thought

Camped around an oasis of

Memories; Nomads of a childhood

They ride on a caravan of camels

Around an empty quarter

That was my youth.
The night I let you walk away, no screams were heard,

No shouts or whoops of hurray

Only the silence of the night as I walked home alone.

The memories have all but faded, sometimes blurred

Around the edges from thirty years of wondering.

Your face comes to me from time to time

Then vanishes into some corner of my mind;

Where my past is kept hidden among nostalgia,

T Rex and childhood innocence.



Do you remember me?



I have never forgotten you! Tall and slim with long

Blonde hair, eyes that were bright and focused,

You were always funny and daring, happy, yet sad.

“It’s that nice girl again” whispered mother as I came in

From school. “She’s in the kitchen waiting for you.

0
Feb 2015 · 494
When it mattered.
John Wayne was there when it mattered;
during an Indian uprising he arrived in the nick of time.
Superman was there when it mattered,
flying in to save the earth from total annihilation.
My mum was always there when it mattered,
cooking up a Sunday dinner to feed four hungry mouth's
just before starvation set in.
But sometimes I feel all ****** up!
My Dad, a nice man, did this by not being there.
He was never there when it mattered to me.

He was always somewhere else!
Feb 2015 · 329
Dream taker
You came in the dead of night,

Stealing into my dreams.

You came walking inside my head,

Daring to walk where others

Had dared not to tread.

You murdered me with passion

Held me in your spell

leading me from another,

Like some scarlet pimpernel.

In my dreams I can’t escape you,

When I wake you will be gone;

And I’ll have lost a second time

And once again you will have won.
Feb 2015 · 494
Hidden love.
When I first saw you across the room, our eyes met.

You had a smile that took me prisoner.

Faster than light,

you spread through my veins like a wild flower.

You glowed with the light of a million stars

and you cloaked me with an aura that lifted me

Higher than the moon. But that was summer.

Remember you told me you loved me

In that Celtic girl accent of yours?
  (“I really love you”)

In the autumn you hid your smile

and took back your cloak.

In your eyes I saw winters approach.

that filled me with a chill. Why then;

when I close my eyes; can I see you still?

Wrapped in the words of my love.
Feb 2015 · 402
Who loves you?
I am hurt

Hurt am I

Love me!

Me love

Only me.

Me only

Love you.

You love

Him only

Only him.

I am hurting

Hurting am I
Seed

Sow

Shoot

Sapling

Tree

Chop

Sawn

Cut

Log

Fire

Embe­rs

Ash!
Feb 2015 · 957
Buried secrets
The bullying husband cold as ice,

Who everyone else thought so nice.

The lover laying feet way,

The nagging wife with nothing to say.

Unpublished remedies to cure disease

Regrets from people too easy to please,

People that were misunderstood

The naughty boy who was really so good.

The murdered child on a blue silk pillow

Laying yards away from her un-found killer.

The practical joker who used to enjoy

The people he mostly used to annoy.

The fighter a hard man with stories untold,

Is forgot for his kindness and heart of gold.

Service men and woman who fought in the wars

Defending our freedoms and died for the cause,

Brave acts committed that never were seen

Are now dead ambitions and unfulfilled dreams.

The fretful, the jolly, the ladies’ man,

The girl from the shop who died in her pram!

The man whose daughter he never discovered

Was not really his, but his younger brother's!

Men and woman who never showed fear

The local landlord who watered his beer

The brilliant singer who never made good

Ambition stifled by motherhood.

The secrets, the truths, the terrible lies;

Buried for ever, from prying eyes.
Next time you walk around a cemetery. Think of all the secrets beneath you!
Feb 2015 · 433
The T in Try
I had a Viking long ship

For us to sail

And a blanket of stars

For you to unveil

I had castles and bays

To show you around

And a heart made of gold

I thought I had found

I had fields full of poppies

And daisy’s to walk

We had cosy nights in with

Reasons to talk

I had books of verse

And poetry to read

I thought we had everything

That we’d ever need

I had hills full of snow

To walk up and down

I had us holding hands

In old York town

We had deserts to cross

And oceans to fly

But we never got by

The T in the try

I had for us, all that I

Ever dreamed

It’s funny how things

Just aren't what they seem.
Feb 2015 · 528
Water under our bridge
I can remember your face, white and strangely bold

As if exposed too often to the moon.

Your eyes of blue were strangely old; As if exposed to pain,

Often and too soon.

I remember your body pale and white;

The beat of your heart like a bird in flight.

And summers have passed since loves first met.

But I remember when we lay together for the first time;

As the stars smiled and the moon said “excuse me”

And tiptoed away.
Jan 2015 · 1.0k
The final straw!
While I nodded nearly napping, suddenly there came a rapping.
A loud rap rapping on my chamber door, the noise of the latch
click clicking, I heard above the clock tick ticking, then the creak
of the boards, the squeak of the nails, across my chamber floor.
And in the darkness with eyes flick flicking and the noise in my
head of the latch click clicking, and the clock in the hall still
tick, tick ticking; came the noise of his boots kick, kick kicking!
What thought I with eyes still  flicking with the sound in my head
of the clock tick ticking, and the ache and the pain from his boots
kick kicking!  Why me?
Then a punch to my face, my face to his knee, then my eyes stop
flicking. No sound anymore, no more of the clock tick ticking,
Only the creak of the boards and the squeak of the nails across
my chamber floor.  Then the sound of the latch click clicking;
no tapping or rapping, no eyes flick flicking, no, no more kicking.
Only the darkness, the slam of the door.  Then the clock tick tick,
ticking, no more creaking of the floor.
Deep into the darkness peering, long I lay there wondering and
fearing; I just cant take this anymore!
Taken from the raven by (Edgar Allen Poe) My take on mindless domestic violence against women.
Jan 2015 · 1.2k
Escape.
Go where I want to go in my head
be who I want be in my head
see who I want to see, be with who
I want to be with, do just what i want
to do in my head.
Oceans to sail across in my head
salt air and seagulls, in my head
new lands to seek out, monsters
that freak out, all in my head.
Space men and rockets in my head
words that annoy me in my head,
fathers and mothers and even
my lovers; all in my head.

Go where I want to go in my head.
Be who I want to be!
Jan 2015 · 9.4k
Candle of remembrance.
Like a moth attracted to a flame you drew me ever closer.

Caught in your light, the flame fanned by your breath

shone through my very soul.  Yet our love

like the moth simply died. And you held me in your hand

like a candle of remembrance in a hall of fame,

a trophy of my undying love;  a symbol of your strength;

a reminder of my existence.

.... Then Phwooosh.. You blew out the flame.
Jan 2015 · 1.0k
The cost of living.
Happiness is beyond the mountains, across a marsh of sinking mud
that ***** and pulls at you.
It is across great acidic lakes of sulpher, filled with the sharp teeth of
crocodiles that gnaw and bite at you!
It's path is littered with bitter sweet and painful memories.

No, happiness is not for everyone;

You gave me happiness once and now look at me?
Jan 2015 · 2.3k
Too nice a man?
I want to be a tight man
a fight man
a get it when I can man
a hard man
a ladies man
a take when its there man
a bad man
a cad man
a wham bang and thank you ma'am.

I want to be a flirt man
a take a bit of skirt man
a **** man
a slapper man
a kiss em quick an part man.

I want to be a cheat man
a cheap man
a slip between the sheets man
a creep man
a street man
a leering ****** beer man.

I want to be a cold man
an ice man
but some say I'm too nice man?
Jan 2015 · 705
Born too late!
Born too late too sail the seven seas
to find new lands, strange bird,s
gigantic tree's.
There is not much left too discover, no
precious metals or stones for the
common man too uncover. No desert that
has not been trod, no new cultures
no new god!
No mountains left to climb, no new rivers
too unwind, no jungles left too creep for
the common man in the street.
Gone are the days he would sail the world
in ships made just from wood, too take his
God to peoples new for what he thought
the common good. Born too late for all
adventures set in foreign lands, born to
late for a common man.
Jan 2015 · 677
Scream out in silence
Long golden curls
Dressed in white cotton
Red rosy cheeks
A childhood forgotten

Laughter that’s lost
And innocence gone
Dreams that were stolen
For you there are none

A spirit so broken
A child of the street
Thoughts yet unspoken
No tears left to weep

Exposed to the drugs
To shut out the pain
You numb out the memories
And take on the shame

There are no words
to aptly describe
How the man in the street
Has ruined your lives

Your bought by the dollar
The pound and the yen
Your bodies abused
Again and again

A childhood demolished
A nightmare, no dream
As into the night
You silently scream.
Against. Trafficking,slavery,exploitation of children
Jan 2015 · 994
Stolen.
“I like his hair” said Karen

“I like his eyes” said Sue

“I  like his smile” said Mary

"I like his laugh “said Lou

“I like his wit” said Margret.

“I like his ***” said May.

“I took his heart" smiled Jackie

“I stole it and hid it away!
So many scars I thought.

“***** me, *****, ***** ******* me”

“Don’t do it I” I pleaded.

Cut, scratch, scrape the flesh

“Bleed you *******, bleed!

It doesn't hurt, it helps.

Not normal, what the ***** normal

You can’t destroy something that’s

That’s already destroyed.”

(He shouts at me)

“Look at me!  Go on; tell me I’m not already broken.”

Empty eyes, reflecting nothing.

Inward staring; shutting me out .

He looked up at me with an air of indifference

Then handed me the blade.

So many scars I thought; so many nightmares.
I  spent fifteen years working as a prison officer at HMP Doncaster.
This was the first self harm i witnessed. sadly over the years i saw much more.
(Inspired by my great grandfather)

Capt: Albert Victor Champion RHA

Children of the Somme, men of mud and water
killed by lead and steel, for them no last supper
no last meal. Children of the Somme, consumed
by mud and water, sent in there thousands
to their slaughter.
Nerves that were shattered,breath that was shallow
felled in fields that were lifeless and fallow.
Hearts that were pounding, bodies that trembled
as in the trenches men assembled.
like an order from god they awaited there place,
to go over the top and stare death in the face.
Men of all nations men of all ages; condemned
to there death and the history books pages.

Lest we forget..................... Remember them.
Jan 2015 · 2.6k
Vesusvius
(As seen from Sorrento)

The blue of the sky dips sharply
to meet the ocean, a panoramic view
broken only by Vesuvius puncturing
the horizon. It rises a thousand feet
deadly in it's beauty;
it stands for all to wonder.
Proud and powerful, yet unconcerned
it sleeps; daring to be woken
Jan 2015 · 7.5k
Lions
(memories from a lost youth)

When i was small the world was a big place
and there were lions at the bottom of our garden.
I never knew what a mortgage was
and i was never allowed to stay up late!
You got lots of presents at Christmas
and on birthdays we played postman knocks
and kissed girls in dark cuboards, he he.
Our toilet was at the bottom of the garden,
mum said our garden looked like a jungle;
so you learnt to hold your *** after dark.

Cos there was Lions at the bottom of our garden!
Jan 2015 · 2.9k
An illicit rendezvous
I set my watch for half past nine
and arranged to meet my
courtesan,
my lover, my demimondaine,
my demirep, my queen of the night,
my inamoratas,
my mistress.... My my, is that the time
I can't be late for my concubine
Jan 2015 · 2.2k
Bright red balloon
(memories from a lost youth)

Shoe leather for brake pads
we scuffed to a stop.
"Their" cried Derek "It's their"
Tumbling down hill scratching
and ripping through
bramble thicket we gave
chase.
Into the newly plowed field
splurging treacle like, through
mud that tried to **** off your
feet.
We stopped in shock
as a gust of wind lifted the
bright red balloon, with its
unread message waving to at us;
as the wind carried it on to
where?
Derek screamed words you can't
say to an adult when your only
ten.

Defeated we splurged back to our bikes.
Jan 2015 · 1.0k
(memories from a lost youth)
High on every limb
of the pear tree canopy
we sat. Picking the fruit
to eat, ripe crisp and
juicy; we scrumped away
our youth.
Jan 2015 · 551
Gone.
Gone,lost in a sea of time
lost forever on life's ocean
gone now that love of mine
lost all the love and devotion.

Gone in a moment of blindness
lost without feeling or fear
gone all the love and kindness
lost because you are not here.

Gone like a dying flame
lost in a flash of light
gone though i tried in vain
lost in the darkest night.

Gone like a summer breeze
lost forever my loved one
gone because i could not see
lost now you are gone.
(memories from a lost youth)

Today i touched upon something i can no longer feel
poorly served a memory of passing of time;
something i no longer see so clearly anymore.
I know i have spoke words i can no longer remember
about you. We were 14 then, i always held your hand
and you laughed all the time.
Today i have touched upon something.
Jan 2015 · 322
Accidental love
My love came to you accidentally.
**** you for those bottomless
blue eyes that ****** me in.
**** me for believing that
you could ever be loved by
only one man.
I never saw that you came
to me, Pandora boxed
all nettled in barbed wire.
So **** me for unleashing
those first kisses, of your ruby
red lips, that tasted of wine.
**** this love; the cost of it
you will never know!
You sail on through life, forget me,
I'm just another man overboard
whose love came to you accidentally.
Jan 2015 · 2.7k
Unspoken words
Night came dark and dreary
at the closing of the curtains.
Darkness splintered with the
light of a million stars and a
fractured moon, gave little
comfort, as a silence heavy as
lead; spread throughout the room.
Your smile, steady as a bird in
flight, hid what your eyes were
trying to tell me.
Afraid to ask , i turn to sleep.
Jan 2015 · 232
What girls ?
(Memories of a lost youth)

What girls have i cherished
what lips have i kissed
what loves  have i held
what hands  have i missed
what hearts  have i broken
what tears  have i cried
what words  have i spoken
what times  have i lied ?

what girls i have held
what lips i have missed
what hands i have cherished
what loves i have kissed
what hearts i have spoken
what tears i have lied
what words i have broken
what times i have cried.
Jan 2015 · 206
Being Ten
(Memories of a lost youth)

When I was ten
i was very small.
I was very small                                               L
When I was ten.                                              L
             ­                                                           A
When­ I was ten   
     I wanted to be very T  
Not small, at all.
But now i am older
And tall..... I want to
Be small again.
Small is better after all;
And so is being Ten!

— The End —