Page 7 of Fishbowl

free,

  I'm back to my old roots again.

 

  Black Coffee

  Expired black coffee lay in the sugar tin,

  Shaded fishes float with one less fin.

  Dark hounds don't know where to begin,

  When the white wolves remain as king.

  We all walk together on the same roads,

  Salt and pepper, you know how it goes.

  But as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

  All I see is angels cooking crystal meth.

  And as I walk through the valley of the mirror of life,

  All I see is demons with a surgical knife.

  Now let's turn to religion and quote the Lord,

  Beg for forgiveness for drawing a sword.

  That fruit is forbidden young little Eve,

  Adam shoots before she can think to be a thieve.

  The Lord forms an excuse of sudden rage,

  Now the snake is locked away in a political cage.

  Snowflakes lay on the coal in chains,

  Snowflakes water the coal for profitable gains.

  Snowflakes melt and enter the dark,

  Whilst shadows conceal and enter a spark.

 

  The colours of Christmas warm me

  Spill whiskey on the table,

  my thoughts are my haunting foe,

  the colours of Christmas warm me,

  even when she kisses me with snow.

  I'll stumble through the cages in my brain,

  and she will bless the keys with ice as she

  follows me until I trip and crush my

  shins against my knees.

  I'll crawl through the black cells in my veins,

  as she stares into my empty eyes, so

  she can dance on my iris and laugh

  in screams until my blood streams.

  I'll follow the droplets of red into my pulsing heart,

  the beat will tie my chest with a

  rope that she clenches with her ghost

  teeth, until the living sounds stop.

  I'll glide towards the gate of which the bright lights showcase,

  my wings will be cut in the clouds

  because heaven has been burnt by

  the infernal rage of the dragoness tongue.

  Spill whiskey on the table,

  my thoughts are my haunting foe,

  the colours of Christmas burn me,

  even when she floods my skull with snow.

 

  Jungle Substance

  Crushing crystal with my last coin,

  Lids open wide like the wings of a butterfly,

  Mind and soul find time to conjoin,

  Sour throat hides the sound my battle cry.

  Pyramids collapsing.

  Brain is elapsing,

  Tigers rushing,

  Elephants pushing,

  Snakes biting.

  Lions fighting.

  Monkeys crying.

  Fish are flying.

  Peace at last.

 

  The Lighthouse Beams

  . . .

  The Lighthouse Beams consists of uplifting, fun and happy themed poetry. I haven’t written much of that throughout the years, but there have been times when I have wanted to mess around with some rhymes and create silly scenarios.

  Recently I have been more focused on positive writing, but at the time of publishing this book there wasn’t much to share. It is likely that my future works will contain a lot more upbeat, fun and ridiculous pieces.

  Lonely Oak

  There was once a tree outside the forest,

  That stood taller than them all.

  The oak formed an outlasting promise,

  Whilst the forest burnt in a storm.

  When alone you are stronger than ever,

  Your leaves form fast whilst others endeavour.

 

  Bouncy Balls

  Small spheres

  Bouncing in the sun

  Shadows on the concrete

  Children having fun

  Laughter in the air

  Friends showing care

  Shadows on the concrete

  Children having fun

 

  Larry had a lamb

  Larry had a lamb

  A lamb had Larry

  Larry liked the lamb but he didn’t like Gary

  Gary was a goat

  Gary had a boat

  Gary couldn’t float

  Gary had a Larry

  Larry had a moose

  Her name was Luce

  Luce had a goose whose name was Bruce

  Bruce had a head

  He laid it in bed

  That’s when he said

  ‘Why is Larry dead?’

  Luce started to cry

  Because she didn’t know why

  Why Larry had to die when her water bowl was dry

 

  You are not broken

  You are not broken,

  the pieces in your head are just misplaced.

  Forget the words spoken,

  free your mind from what it has faced.

  A new time is dawning,

  there is always a place to start again.

  Wake up in the morning,

  release yourself from all the pain.

  Happiness is calling,

  go to the station and board the first train.

  New friends are waiting,

  millions of people feel the same.

 

  Betty

  Little miss Betty

  Was walking her confetti

  When a giant yeti

  Came and ate her spaghetti

  Little Betty cried

  But soon the yeti died

  Because a two eyed bride

  Pulled out a machete

 

  Frogs

  Frogs on the walkway

  Frogs in the air

  Frogs in the doorway

  Frogs in underwear

  Frogs in the hotel

  Frogs in the grass

  Frogs in the oil well

  Frogs in the class

  Frogs on the TV

  Frogs in the pool

  Frogs in the palm tree

  Frogs in the school

 

  Frogs on the table

  Frogs in the pub

  Frogs in the stable

  Frogs in the shrub

  Frogs on the school bus

  Frogs all around us

 

  Giant Chicken

  There was once a giant chicken,

  that laid a giant egg.

  One day the egg started kickin',

  and out popped one leg.

  The other chickens would giggle,

  for they all had two.

  The new-born chick could wiggle,

  but walking was untrue.

  The new born chick got mad,

  and asked them for a fight.

  The other chickens felt bad,

  when he was crying all night.

  A wizard chicken came to see the chick,

  and said he had a cure.

  Abra Kadabra would do the trick,

  but the results were quite poor.

  The new born chick now had two legs,

  but also had four heads.

 

  Ben’s Pet Snail

  Ben had a pet snail,

  a very strange one indeed.

  It had a short tail,

  and four legs at slow speed.

  Ben's snail had a large shell,

  and a slime trail was no worry.

  Ben's snail had a strange smell,

  but at least it wasn't as bad as curry.

  Ben's snail lived in a tank,

  swimming around in the water.

  Ben said the water couldn't be drank,

  and that he was having a daughter!

 

  The Headless Eagle

  I was walking
through the town,

  when a sudden eagle swooped down.

  "Hello!" I said,

  "Where is your head?"

  The eagle made no sound.

  I poked it with a stick,

  but the eagle did not budge.

  I began to feel quite sick,

  when I noticed splats of red sludge.

  "Silly me!" I said,

  for the eagle was dead,

  and that's why the eagle had no head.

 

  Clean Eyes

  Spit a million brilliant white stars into the sky

  Smile like a reptile feeding off a thousand crickets

  Dance with the birds and planes until you begin to fly

  Do not explore a funfair when you have all the tickets

  Sunsets are pretty but sad when the darkness masks

  A stunning settlement to why wolves kill at night

  Open your eyes to shine light upon the uncompleted tasks

  The wolves will flee as your beauty summons a sprite

  Gaze beyond the flourishing stars you spat out

  Grow a third eye in the middle of your mind

  The tears down your cheek are going to sprout

  Align the winds to a breeze where you can unwind

  Allow your eyes to turn into ancient artifacts

  See the sensational space around you in different shapes

 

  Another Beer

  Through the wooden ark of laughter and cheer

  Settle a merchant that sells food and beer

  Venturing onward grants you a yellow fizzed river

  For only two gold coins you can devour your liver

  Sailing through the foam and sugar

  Spitting out words to request another

  A few more down until the storm breaks out

  The sails have torn so you begin to shout

  Eventually you sink

  And start to think...

  "Did I really need another drink?"

 

  Alice’s Cookie Jar

  I picked up a cookie jar and opened wide,

  only to find there was an Alice inside.

  She said go ahead kid,

  take a chocolate biscuit,

  then slanted her eyes and said ‘if you wanna risk it.’

  I picked up a cookie and opened wide,

  only to find there was a slug inside.

  The slug ate my fingers and all the cookies too.

  And that's why cookies are really bad for you.

 

  Sam the tastiest clam

  Who is the tastiest clam?

  I am the tastiest clam, said Sam.

  But Sam did not know that he was not so,

  because Sam was a clam, covered in snow!

 

  Heart Shaped

  . . .

  Romance poetry is my least favorite genre of poetry. The works I read are often not relatable or too cliché. I’ve had problems with relationships in the past, but for the last three years during my writing period, it has been smooth sailing. I must be lucky.

  Despite romance not being favoured, I have still written some poetry about love and hate in relationships. The most positive I have wrote in dedication to my fiancée, the lesser positive ones are inspired by the struggles of my family.

 

  Miss Communication

  I use my whiskey glass as a walkie-talkie,

  She uses her wine glass as a mobile phone.

  Sound
Thomas W. Morris's Novels