i tell a tale of misery
a tale that must be told
a part of human history
of men whose hearts were cold

they dressed in human clothing
that hid inhuman loathing
urbane and winsome smile
that veiled poisoned bile

one day the sun forgot to rise
as thousand men and women
the young, the old, the daft, the wise
were led on evil mission

made to march on gravestone
away from home and house
this people, flesh and bone
victim of cruelest chouse

no doubt there were the children
who knew not where they go
knew not how much a villain
upon this earth could grow

and pushed and shoved upon the ground
the matriarch of year threescore
who every day would knead and pound
the bread for all the poor

towards the forest's warning frame
these starving hordes were forced
as mounted beasts grinned at their game
with gunshot force endorsed

betwixt the dumbest trees
who held their heads aloof
in winter's freezing breeze
as hungry dogs cried woof

three ditches long and wide
were hacked out in the frost
and 'fore the thousands died
into thence were tossed

no doubt they'd left their clothing
in a pile so neat
as bodies decomposing
as souls their Maker meet

the shots rang out in cold air
spelt death and dark despair
as skittles to abyss
as spirit to God's kiss

the crying groans were heard long after
as night threw on its gown
like bodies swinging from the rafter
like ghosts around the town

the devil's fiendish laughter
sought this world to drown
in this and in hereafter
he'd knocked off G-dly crown

there once was a lad from Hungary
who was a dab hand at trumpery
oft a quote
that never was wrote
he made into hagiography

one day he went too far
and quoted his wife's mama
as saying her daughter
next to the altar
looked like a black Madonna

said in-law to him that's true
but it wasn't her, 'twas you,
in your tuxedo
and French libido
like balsam o' peru

if i hadn't known 'twas you
i'd have thought you an evolving gnu,
so stop writing lies
or you'll get a surprise
as my daughter wishes you adieu

He dipped a pen into the ink
and let the letters flow
like running a finger down a mink
forming blackbirds in the snow
the liquid flowed in courses deep
betwixt the fibrous path
on either side an ivory heap
as plaster 'tween the lath

the letters had a life their own
glinting in the sun
as shiny beads or poppy seeds
sprinkled on iced bun
and then, as corn, newly sown
choreographed as one
the letters marched, in unison,
as soldiers with a gun

each distinct, they swayed together
as wing compos'd of feather
the harmony of black and white
milk stars on velvet night,
and then, just when, all was right,
they vanished all together,
as all at once, they took to flight
and flew into the ether.

and now, each night, when all is still,
they visit me in my dreams,
those raven-black letters of quill
dance wisdom in moonlight streams
as homing pigeons coming to roost
coo mysteries in the dew
as prancing horses newly hoofed
flashing waves of sea-green hue,

and as young maid new seduced
'neath heavens of sky-blue
where rainbow colours introduce
soft butterflies flying through,
wherein conception, zen-induced,
old friends appear as new
i lend my ear to hear produced
their music i once knew

when pen in hand i sought to spill
the secrets hidden 'n true
of why the very highest hill
is home to lowly shrew
and why from ash beneath the grill
a phoenix wakes anew
and why the soul allows its will
to bivouac in corpse shoe.

Truth will last
Falseness will pass
Crumble, out cast,
As dead, dry grass

But what till then the buildings
the edifices built on lies,
how much blood and killings
will they cause on their capsize?

the air is stretching balloon's confines
till, of a sudden, pop!
but pity the persons it defines
all heading for the chop

London's burning, Lies are churning,
Fetch the engines, Retching vengeance,
Fire Fire! Liar Liar!
Pour on water. Call for order.

London's burning, Lords are earning,
Kvetch the tensions, Cut the pensions,
Dire dire! Mire mire!
Pour on water, 'gnore the poorer.

eyes ajar, like chocolate box
desperately trying to close
outside noise of yelping fox
and wife blowing her nose
leave my mind in flummox
unable to sleep or doze
expropriated as man in docks
of rightful slumber pose
so now in state as tinderbox
i gingerly throw on my clothes
close my hose, put on my socks,
'n venture on tiptoes,
half-past two scream the clocks
as children comatose
dream of bears and goldilocks
red cape and purple bows.

face drawn, pale and pallid,
eyes sunken as spirit tarried,
rattled cage o' tired invalid
fifty suns soul had carried

the flame waned and flickered
in frame worn and withered,
battle scarcely begun
before adversary won

and now the wings unclipped 'n ready
waited for abeyance of inner eddy
waited to be free at last
of physical prison, physical cast

the spirit feels can linger no more
it rattles and shakes and knocks on door
with one last guttural click and snore
breaks free the darkness, begins to soar.