Another wriiten page.
Another spent wage.
Another great song.
Another reason to belong.
Another wrong Guy.
Another chance not to try.
Another reason not to die.
Another new year.
Another undrinken beer.
Another unshed tear.
Another hour near.
Another day, a different way.
Another dollar earned.
Another lesson learned.
Another goal to achieve.
Another love burned.
Another bridge turned.
Another desire granted.
Another tree planted.

I didn't want to die yet
Losing weight
Eating fate
Overfed my diet

Dining to stay alive
I kept paying the price
I paid to the highest

I didn't want to die yet
I did because the cost of life
Was a price I couldn't afford here
Losing weight and my conscious state
Death was sold down the street to a client
It's just business and there's not much difference
If nobody here wants to buy it

You could color or dye it
No matter how you paint
It ends in the same fire
The soul burns it's own lighted
I didn't want to die yet
But I did because my sins triumphed
The cost of life and the sum of love
Became defiant
I rolled the die yet
I landed on a snakes eye lid
Your only once in lifetime chance
Supplied your last dance
Under the moons high lit

When the right time to die is
My mental ills will be billed to desires
As they have fulfilled
The prophecies Will
God aspired

I don't want to die yet
But it is wriiten
Upon my heels
A number with so many steps
Will lead to the dies set
Forming a mold I was told
The only way it's pressed
Is with age old
Unless I take it
I'll try it
Because I have nothing left
To live for but quiet
Resting in peace
My savage beast
Is the only reason I die yet

I didn't want to

You stung.
You floated.
Made many boxer rich.
And if any denied it.
Many knowledge experts can admit it.

You inspired many in various ways.
Either through confidence to believe.
Either through the joy of being in your company.

You uplifted some spiritually.
Even if some didn't believe what you believe?
But faith works wonders.
And that you was to millions.
Whether through your fights in Manila.
Or visits to Africa.

God grants angels upon this earth to do his will.
And through your life many found great thrills.

Oh, there's no need for sadness.
Cause gladness were your joy.
Each of us holds power in others lives.

And you held strength in many.
A son of the south that fought against discrimination.
So it's so strange to look around now and see changes from then.
You have seen it.

Ali, so things are wriiten to be known.
And you was the inspiration of this poem.

Dark Gothic Heart

I look to the sea
viral implications take me to the surf
along the rocky ledge leads to an old abandoned house
you hear the intense pounding of the waves outside
a cobblestone walkway lines the entrance to the inclosure
the limestone permeates the small structure
a creeky door open to plants inside having moss
an old woman perched in her rocking chair begins to speak
"My name is Martha I'm the owner of this home & I will tell you your future,
you have a dark gothic heart with a temper that is unmatched."
Suddenly a black cat thunders through the home with a screeching noise
Martha continues," The devil lead you to this home in search of blood for tormented souls,
you have been given a gift with an aura of sophistication".
At that the woman said nothing more but pointed at the door
Outside in the back of her yard were skulls lining the main exterior
I couldn't take it any more so I ran so fast to a nearby stream
Looking into the water I then saw my mere reflection
I was left to wonder what the old woman really meant
a figure moved to help me gain my composure
of that of a hunch back creature having viscous fangs that bite dripping blood off side
Again I ran away to hide frightened
At last a nearby meadow with a clearing sought me to venture further
It was then I realized the true message of my gothic heart
a cool breeze calmed my spirit & soul
noting that love was the mere essence of my existence
I sat alone & collected my thoughts

A Valiant Knight


Death springs a new day basking in the breeze
In solemn moments lets pause to think of a place
A far off castle in the mountains away from it all
A valiant knight lived in the structure of its dwelling
Those days of old where mere men had a noble demise
A beautiful maiden was in waiting for her knight
He would often fight for the cause of strength and dignity
The draw bridge where the castle stood had a very unique aura
A mystery of sort sought up in the vast array of crowned nobility

For the king on his thrown was humble yet greedy
Always would take care of himself caring nothing for the needy
A valiant knight was concerned about the kings trust
Often they would disagree on who it was to serve
A joker came in front of the king one day with a magic wand
Waving the wand in the air then there floated ivy everywhere
For the court jester was a fool in the making of his legacy
The maiden would often come forth and see

For she treasured a red rose that was plucked sometime before
Cherished the calling of her stature to the glory of the throne
A valiant knight would often sing sweet songs in the night
Had a following of village people that would sit before his feet
Having a way of words that he would often share
The castle was filled with dragons and warlocks searching for love
A cause to be brave amidst uncertainty of the kingdom
The legacy of golden bowls filled ardent vestibules
Let us toast to the valiant knight who keeps a watch on all that is good


The inner harmony tuned to its hidden beasts menagerie
the inner harmony tuned to its hidden beasts menagerie
long ago & far away
existed trolls with hobbits in a world apart
the mere notion of cascading falls in true light form
through a transient scope onto its beckoning call
there was dragons in the land along with kings & queens you understand
my sight blocked the vortex of my mind's eye onto Apollo's eye
their was zing to begin with amidst the soul's regard
perhaps this is in the land where Nero could tred

A scroll was wriiten on linen parchments by the word of truth
A great disaster came across the land their were giants their
the hobbits had a high loft dwelling amidst the struggle
a radiant light pulsated through the dragons teeth
under the rainbow poured out oil that was unleashed to change the world
without warning many were effected by the distant disaster

A fare maiden let down her hair onto the plush kingdom
alone with her thoughts she dreamed a dream that nobody could decifur
that was until the court jester had recaptured her imaginative thoughts she was after
the dream was a rainbow overhead with a dragon following with crystal lights
the embodiment of iron skulls dashed the fragments of her thoughts
the forbidden castle was enchanted in the night filled with cadence
from the vision many would be killed but the outcome would profit the land
A fare maiden was moved with compassion by the killings and moved to a river

( wriiten in march)

day 12.

to think of you up to your knees in snow

is preferable than imagining you swamped

in ***** laundry

saying that my laundry closed yesterday

i phoned and wished them all the best

the machines hard going making back ground noise

later my fuel arrived, logs, nuggets and sticks, delivery

man angry at others calling in the store for non essentials

and crowding together which is not done protocol

no more

for using cash and buttoning the payment machine

with fingers even though the swipe amount increased

like he said how come compost , wild bird food come

important when folk are dying

his wife works at the hopital in town

on my walk i meets the wooden dog, famed by me

on instagram and says hello.

his master stood a distance chatted a while until we

moved on both noting, commenting on the brighter

sky

both noting the quiet road

i saw violets james

on return had a bonfire

the garden waste which

made me really happy

james

later when weary i failed with all the news and worry

yet

on waking early and bright found that the asda site

gone quiet and booked my food delivery

so remain independant a while

longer

hoping your fuel came too

stay safe

( note…james is a ‘penpal’ lives on tug hill. we share experiences daily)

I am just like an open book but wriiten in a language you can't read.

This pill we have to swallow
( and quite right, two does not make a Summer )
the harsh rules we have to follow,

no shortages now
the hoarders must have enough.

I should have wriiten this on blotting paper
but
it spreads out anyway and will fade away
like reflections of a memory
changing every day.

Morose is for those
and not for me
I'm getting on with it
doing my bit,
and hoping
you are doing yours