Many cried and screamed out ‘no’,
They didn’t want him out of their life,
Cut off sharply, as if by a knife,
Wandering lonely all the time,
Others not even giving a dime
He’s dead you know, he had to go,
From now on he’ll never show,
Never be there to make it right,
Never be there during lonely nights,
Never be there to comfort me,
Never be there to fill us with glee,
Never be there in our head,
Never be there ….
‘Cos God’s definitely, absolutely, undeniably, dead;
Or so they said
SEEDS
At first a void, nothing there,
Then God, or time, a particle did snare,
And seed a universe – an ultimate reality,
Held together by the force of gravity,
As stars did shine, then wither as they must,
Forming new orbs and planets from their dust
Then came lifeforms, at first just a few,
Rising from Creation, or a primordial stew,
Growing and seeding the genetic tree,
An explosion of beauty and diversity,
Feeding and existing in a balanced view,
Crowned by the intelligence of me and you
Then came an explosion of sentient thought,
Sometimes for good, often for naught,
Thought seeded belief and philosophy, too,
Evolving society, often reborn anew,
But the most beautiful thought we really need,
Is we’re all as one from that initial seed
STRANGE ELECTIONS
Forces dark, malign, satanic,
Who shall we vote for? Don’t panic!
It’s all laid out, simply for you;
Your choice? Just two;
But these are chosen just for the people,
A simple decision between good and evil,
‘Cos you’ve got to be on one side or the other,
Or democracy you will certainly smother;
Yet where in all this did you decide who should stand?
Don’t they look so rich and grand?
Of course they do, ‘cos they are, you see,
Picked by Big Biz for you and me,
And they look upon us with contempt and glee
LOVE IN THE CITY?
The city and civilisation go hand in hand,
Our greatest creation – Oh so grand,
Yet above all else, love’s what we do,
But in the city, chances are few …
Why?
We’ve got corn, don’t be forlorn,
Build a city, Oh so pretty,
Shrine to the gods, we look agog,
Castle for defence, we’re all so tense,
Factory and slum, we’re so glum,
Money in the till, so much thrill,
All about trade, greed displayed
The city should be our social glue – but it’s never been built for me or you
LOVE
Candy … The Wearwolf … Obsession … The Story of Love … Storm of Seduction
CANDY
Candy, absolute perfection,
A tasty, ultimate confection,
Her company a treat,
Her manner sweet …
To find the words, an impossible task,
So much a secret, before you ask,
The date was great, went so well,
Not something of which I can tell;
Suffice to say we were led astray,
Plenty of time for ultimate play,
Peeling the wrapper an absolute joy,
Knowing the difference between girl and boy;
Growing close, a tasty delight,
Mixed so well throughout the night,
Savouring every sugary mix,
Melting, finally, as we kissed
Candy, absolute perfection,
A tasty, ultimate confection,
But time for respite,
Hhmm
Pick another tonight
THE WEARWOLF
He looked in the mirror, flashed his smile,
The mirror winked back, he’d passed the trial,
In babe-magnet shirt and mohair suit,
Thoughts of the night began to take root,
Out he went, howling with pride,
Heading for the place where women reside;
The Full Moon Club was his favourite joint,
Where he knew the babes would surely anoint,
His irresistible charm with the other sex,
His one-liners cool, never vex;
Picking the girl for his fun tonight,
He coaxed her out into the bright,
Ethereal glare of the glorious full moon,
Knowing his appeal could make her swoon,
But a cloud clothed the orb, malicious craft,
When he took off his clothes, she laughed
OBSESSION
I love her, always, she’s in my heart,
Her face so lovely; why are we apart?
I’ll win her over, make her mine,
Attempt to heal my fevered mind;
An obsession I have, I cannot fight,
I dream I’m going to propose tonight;
I know I’m unworthy of her love,
I’m poor; I’ll pickpocket to rise above;
I’ll refurbish my home to make it nice,
Then maybe she’ll make the sacrifice,
And come to me so that I can enthrall,
And she’ll be more than a poster on my wall
THE STORY OF LOVE
This is the story of the love of a girl,
By a man who’s life began to unfurl,
When he saw this vision of beauty true,
Smitten – to his previous life, adieu
Her name was love, and he felt it inside,
So powerful it was, it could not be denied,
When she was not there he could not be complete,
Yet little did he know he had to compete
Love was too powerful for only one man,
So many, after her, they ran and ran,
And each thought love was their ultimate dream,
Startled by that omnipotent beam
The time came to pass when it was over for love,
Peace went away, deserted by the dove,
And man fought man for the ultimate prize,
One fell down – dead, said his eyes
So love turned from something good to bad,
It is always so, isn’t it sad?
Jealousies, desires, stir in the pot,
And man’s existence – turmoil his lot
Wisdom does, of course, decree,
That lessons will be learnt by you and me,
Yet although love deserted them all,
It was soon back, assisting man’s Fall
STORM OF SEDUCTION
A fleeting moment, put at ease,
A hand strokes your hair, a gentle breeze,
So calming as the inevitable dawns,
Primeval forces, neither mourns;
What follows is a build up of powers,
Nothing can stop it, always devours,
Any hope of controlling your mind,
As the wind builds and howls, and lovers entwined;
A maelstrom of passion, swirling and true,
Intimate moments, life bursting anew,
As everything falls to its seductive force,
And never can there be remorse,
For things will happen as they inevitably will,
Riding on a tide of energy, until …
You exist in the eye, a calm, no pain,
As you ready yourself, to begin again
LIFE
As Safe as Houses … Liberation … Telephone … Maybe Man … Wooden … Refresh … Monstrous … Snap It … Everyone’s A Survivor … Buddy
… Paranoid … Forever Colosseum … Road To Nowhere … Stairway To …
AS SAFE AS HOUSES
As safe as houses, we always say,
As if this will always, for us display,
A feeling of safety, everything’s alright,
Not expecting life to bite;
But just how safe is this house of yours?
Hurricanes and earthquakes taking more than your doors;
Prices booming, hardly affording your tea,
Before you the fear of negative equity;
So maybe, today, the simile is wrong,
Everything so easily going for a song;
Or maybe it’s right, and it’s all a joke,
Trouble, always, it does invoke,
As we fail, forever, to put up our guard,
In life’s unpredictable,
And dismal
House of cards
LIBERATION
Life is a search for liberation,
Fighting alienation,
Overcoming angst,
Wanting emancipation,
Not asking for thanks
Life is a search for revolution,
Fighting repression,
Overcoming chains,
Wanting insurrection,
Not asking for gains
Life is a search for all these things,
To liberate from all our sins,
To work towards a better world,
As liberation does continually unfold;
To journey onwards as we stray,
From authorities who always say, nay,
To be allowed to pray,
To weigh our own mind,
To play
Life IS a search for all these things
TELEPHONE
The telephone rings, it’s always there,
Don’t answer! If you dare;
When just on a desk, or maybe a table,
Life wasn’t so bad, ‘cos we were able,
To live a life relatively free,
Of constant messages from all to thee;
But come the mobile, it’s all change,
Always with us, as if a chain;
On the train, in the theatre, or even the park,
That damn ring tone, it does hark,
Of contact to others all the time,
And if not ours, then other ring tones rhyme,
Constantly around us, forever a hell,
Giving us no time on which to dwell,
On life without that damn satanic phone,
Yet if never a call to us does hone,
We wish someone would ring, ‘cos
We’re all alone
MAYBE MAN
The maybe man, he’s a scream,
Going there, in his dream;
Cautious is, his way to be,
Going nowhere, like a tree;
All through life, he thinks it out,
Swimming nowhere, like a trout;
A human being, he certainly is,
But his existence has no fizz;
Sometimes you’ve just, got to say,
Get on with life, its full array,
Or in your head, or in your bed,
You’ll stay, until
You’re very dead
WOODEN
We live our lives, but is it true,
The way we behave, me and you?
Do we have the choices to make,
Or is it just one big fake?
We live in a world of consumer choice,
But images of this and that, they foist,
Upon our minds to get us to buy,
This and that, you can’t deny;
Things are made for ever and ever,
Risking nature’s splendid endeavour;
Providing for our every need,
Or is it just our insatiable greed?
But have you noticed we’ve become all the same,
Society and people becoming lame,
With wooden lives and wooden hopes,
Oh, we really have become dopes,
With wooden needs that affect our health,
And wooden ambition grounded in wealth,
As we’re all left on, the wooden shelf
REFRESH
Pictures of life on my computer exist,
Full of experience that does persist;
Sometimes it’s good, sometimes bad,
Yet living, it is certainly had;
But what, if like the computer screen,
We could alter what has been?
Click ‘refresh’ and change it all,
Stopping those things that make us fall?
What kind of witchcraft this would be,
Refreshing life for you and me,
Existing as we want to be,
And I would then,
Be a deity
MONSTROUS
Every time I see him, my heart begins to sink,
He pushes me always, right to the brink;
He’s uglier than a troll, that’s very clear,
A monster through and through, that we all should fear;
It isn’t just the surface that turns people away,
He loves to find the vulnerable, on which to prey;
A bully, a villain, a cad, upon anyone he does deprave,
So now it’s time to act, against this nave;
Enough of this vile person, I feel only dismay,
Action must be taken, to win the day;
So that’s why I’ve decided,
To throw the mirror away
SNAP IT
We do so love our cameras,
Snapping that picture true,
Wherever we are, it’s taken,
No matter what we do;
They decorate our albums,
Our lives laid out thus,
Everything about it,
Reflected back at us;
But sometimes I wonder what madness,
As we stop and take,
‘Cos while we’re playing photographer,
In the event,
We don’t partake
EVEREYONE’S A SURVIVOR
Survival comes in many a form,
From life’s strange tricks, against the norm;
From our first moment on the Earth,
We’ve survived the trauma of our birth;
As children we run the gauntlet of fate,
As we play, explore, our curiosity we sate;
In career, in love, in all we do,
We risk it all, as we pursue;
So maybe survival, it is rife,
We do, we conquer, on the edge of a knife,
‘Cos to survive is
Quite simply
Life
BUDDY
My buddy is a friend indeed,
Always there when I need,
Always ready to concede,
Always around when I plead,
Always with me when I feed,
Always hanging around when there’s a girl to seed,
No matter how hard I plead;
Always with me for every single deed,
Despite my warnings, he doesn’t heed;
Always dragging behind whenever I lead,
As if he’s a damn weed!
My buddy, a friend who DOES impede,
But for them, we have a need,
Despite annoyance,
Irritation,
However much we’re displeased,
‘Cos
My buddy is a friend indeed
PARANOID
He sat in silence, his life so fickle,
His mind so confused and brittle;
Who was the skunk who’d got him annoyed,
Taking his picture with that Polaroid,
Making his life so null and void?
Life from now on was a conspiracy,
Forever wondering if it was him or he;
The future wasn’t worth a pinch of salt,
Everything coming to such a halt,
His mind now go
ing with a sudden jolt
So for ever after he was paranoid,
Leaving the life he had so enjoyed;
They were out to get him, no matter what the toil,
Taking his fears right to the boil,
And upon his head, aluminium foil
FOREVER COLOSSEUM
I stand before the lion, the crowd does cheer,
He charges straight towards me, I use my spear;
What spectacular theatre, as the blood does flow,
But I missed, it’s mine, and the trumpets blow;
My life was worth nothing, I was just a slave,
Isn’t it funny how people behave?
The Colosseum is gone, consigned to the past,
But the persecution of many, it does last,
So remember the Colosseum when you think you know best,
‘Cos history proves
You’re no better than the rest
ROAD TO NOWHERE
Round and round and round they race,
Fighting, always, for first place;
Round and round and round we go,
Where we’re going we don’t really know;
Round and round and round I see,
We’re all in love with the exciting Grand Prix;
Round and round and round our thought,
As we create the lives we wrought;
Round and round and round we bare,
The Grand Prix a symbol of our flair,
Racing like idiots so we might dare,
But like the driver,
Going nowhere
STAIRWAY TO …
Stairway, stairway, stairway to
All we desire of me and you;
All our secrets are kept up there,
Under the gaze of an omnipotent stare;
We laugh and smile and sometimes cry,
Under that ever watching eye;
With birth we take our very first breath,
And rest comfortable in sheets, a long way from death;
When ill we seek comfort above,
And sleep peaceful as a lark or a dove;
In adolescence it’s the place of all our dreams,
At least, at that time it seems;
And it’s true, as dreams turn into reality,
And with a partner we reach pure ecstasy;
But as age marches on, the stairway is longer,
To climb, and so often our mind does wander;
Then also up there, death is nigh,
And we think of soaring to heaven so high,
And at last we understand that observant,
Ethereal eye
HUMOUR
Aardvark … Yorkshire-eese … Spectral Images … Fork In the Road … Don’t Rhyme … Robin … That’s Funny … A Smelly One