'Fighting a Losing Battle'
Rhapsody spits morning dew,
My dampened spirit, soaked right through.
I lift my head from restless pit
And wipe my mouth of muddied grit.
The crimson sun-rise warms my soul,
As aching neck is helped to roll.
I shave my face and eat some fruit
Then don my armour and my boots.
Weapon slung across my side,
I dust my camouflage with pride
And take my place back on the line;
Duty bound by home-front crime.
The truck don't take me all the way
So from the path, I mustn't stray.
I use my ears to guide me in
To follow distant battle's din.
Tracers paint the lurid sky
As arcs are followed by my eyes.
Passing close with every shot,
I'm conscious of their deadly plot.
Bullets pass like humming bees
Bringing Comrades to their knees.
As panic passes as for calm,
Pain races up my splintered arm.
Acceptance has now 'come the norm
As whistling metal tears my form;
Crescendo bursts me from the light
And throws me to eternal night.
Softly fades the light of day,
This falling carcass gently sways.
Weary head is flopped to ground,
No more pain and little sound.
Each passage to this other side
Is reminiscent of the tide..
As in and out of life and death
This cycle fuelled by man's unrest.
They teach me right from wring once more
Then kindly gesture to the door.
Invigoured mind with head hung low,
They pat my back for I must go.
Into this life I re-emerge,
To try again this test of scourge.
To keep in mind their goal of peace,
Linked with me like lamb and fleece.
But life is hard when love is blurred,
So life-time goals are oft deferred
As once again, from fragile babe,
Life forges me with fire and blade.
This never-ending loop of woe;
Designed to help us all let go
Of hate and angst of fret and war,
To live in harmony once more.
Hard as it seems to get it right;
Each time we try as best we might.
To give each man what he deserves-
Peace, love, freedom - unreserved.
We must make sure as one day soon,
Everything will be consumed
And all that's here will be no more
But start again with zero score.
To pass the test is plain as day,
Never let life slip away-
Make each second last an hour,
Each insect, beast and special flower.
Become a champion for the weak,
Find fortune in the worldly bleak,
Balance all - be fair and just
As truth is all you need to trust.
The answer's in each newborn child;
Innocence can tame the wild
And set us free from man-made hell,
No need for god or magic spell;
In the end we'll be just fine
If we take our precious time
To do things right and set the pace
To fortify the human race.
Slowly pass the months at sea,
Night to night with nothing seen.
Shrivelled crew sleep huddled cold
In the belly of their mother.
Up top with creak and flex of wood
Thrown, rolling port and starboard.
Sprayed by ice from wondrous depth,
The watchman warmed, by flask of rum.
Hid from view until too late
The silhouette of rival form.
Flank to flank and unprepared
The rally cry of tattered horn.
The barrels beg as canons roar
Like rats they scurry under.
Deck to deck and back again
To feed their hungry volleys.
Passing shot and powder keg
Brass-monkey does his duty.
Lashed by rope of splintered hull
He dodges through the gulleys.
Come on boy, I need some more!
The bald-man raised his fists.
Two seconds late, the hull was gated,
Baldy was no more.
The thing with ships, or so they say,
The sea goes on the outside.
With holes so big, no chance of patch
We become the fodder.
Dredging wreck to bring aboard
All they find of value.
From ship to ship, from sinking plank,
Brass-monkey hauled by saviour.
Up o'er the flanks of sullied beech
To serve with growing lustre,
Two-hundred cannons each, per side
This mighty naval Warship.
With the Sun on my back
Or the coals at my feet,
My heart shall never be warmed
From this cold depth that War has sunk me.
No sullen eyes or muted sobs;
Trained hard by cold emotion
To hide my pain, my sorrow, my fear,
This mask is mine to wear with pride.
An indomitable vessel
Left wrecked and rusting
In quieting distant waters,
Too costly to recover, to restore.
But visit, come catch a glimpse
To wonder how it must have been
Those splendid years ago
Before the waves took their toll.
'State of Mind'
As each day floats by
Looking back, not forwards,
Trying to elude my own thought,
Escape present form,
Return to my source
And recall a time
When I would look forward
To the day when
I no longer can remember
The heavy, old branches
tracing gently the silvery surface
of the stream.
A silent Raven observes all
with the stillness of
the grassy fields below.
His wide-angled eyes
take in everything
that life has to offer him
and someday soon
a gentle, warm breeze
might lift him
from that heavy, old branch.
'Freedom of Choice'
'They' have no choice but kill 'our' thoughts
in this land of the free.
They choose to to hide the truth from us;
they choose what we can see.
The TV's spurt and spout 'their' news
and burp repeats galore.
Same old shit but different day,
what do you watch it for?
From birth, they choose what we digest;
and feed us on their lies.
For health of mind, you must eat meat
but cows and pigs MUST die!
They highlight what is good and just
to show us wrong from right,
then hide the trades of diamond slaves
so nothing's "black and white".
Earn your cash then pay our tax
for this is what you owe
but if you keep it to yourself
your prison sentence grows.
The latest gadget's now on sale,
the 'best' that you can buy:
it's 60inch of worthless junk
to better watch their lies.
They choose for us what we can hear,
of terrorists at war.
but only half the story's told,
to honour blood and gore.
"Wear your brass on you lapel
and hold your head up high."
but do that in a battlefield
and you will surely die!
They preach of prophets and of God
in Bibles, hymns and script.
They say they know who built 'the world',
but then 'demolish' it.
If you woke up and saw the world
for what it is today,
you'd notice that you are not free
and do not have your say.
'They' have no choice but kill 'our' thoughts,
in this land of the free,
they cannot choose what /I/ believe;
those thoughts belong to me.
Off dampened streets
O'er steel I step,
To heated Wonder.
The soothing sway
Of left to right
Soon lulls me off
With half-closed lids.
Lightning spits and spats,
The carriage gently trundles,
Passing the Freehouse,
Passing the knolls,
Stopping to alight,
Of sparkling dim,
Through frosted panes
Sat bolted straight
With book on lap,
I gently watch
The time pass by.
One idle Sunday,
After walk in the park,
A family of three
Heading home before dark.
Their beautiful child
Was gleaming with fun,
Chasing shadows and leaves
In Autumnal sun.
"Wait for us!", "Wait for us!"
"Wait for us!" they said.
But their beautiful child
Was racing ahead.
A car on the highway
Was travelling too fast
"Just 10 minutes now..."
"...Nearly home, at last!"
"SHIT!" cried Dad,
Half disguised by the brakes
Which squealed half as loud
As his kids in their state.
"You've killed him!", "You've killed him!"
"You've killed him!" they called
"It's OK, calm down..."
"It's a hedgehog, that's all."
'At Your Disposal'
From a mile and a third
Can be heard the dull whir
Of a high-heat furnace
Preparing to burn
The remains, in disdain,
Of a blood-stained brain,
Draining from the cranium
Of a dying Albanian.
A scene, never seen before-
Ash on the floor,
Blood and gore
And of course guts galore!
It's a bit of a chore
To open the door
But iron is forced,
The orange orifice
Crackle and spit, flames lap
Into the pit of charcoal
We toss you in
With surly grin
Like rubbish to bin,
Raucous laughter within.
We're stoked to stoke
Ol' smokey again!
With a tug of his chain
Comes the rising of flame!
It's 1:04 and you're
Just a few minutes more
No need for a morgue.
You're almost done - ain't this fun?!
At ten -past-one you'll be gone!
A birds-eye view in store for you.
So up the flu and spread on through
As one last time
You'll rise up high
To soar the sky as we
For we are at your disposal.
'What I Remember'
Shrapnel pulls at fragile limbs
Which bend and bow and break.
Poison Gas drawn into roots
Corruption of the Soul.
Bullets RIP and splinter bark.
Rain on down-turned leaves.
People mock and tease our plight,
Relived anguish, No respite.
The Chaplains wore a cross for us
They prayed that we survive.
It also laid the coffin-tops
of all the ones who died.
Another war now must be faced
To live among this "humane" race
To turn from lies and bended truth
and pass the time of day
YOU equal evil-doers.
The blind munition of their cannon.
Hidden from YOUR carnage,
Can turn the pages and smile.
You know SO much of very little,
SO little of oh SO much.
Some trees still somehow here today,
Graffiti Marred, where beauty was.
As even light is tentatively swept
from my eyes,
the temporary incarnation of day
transcends into night.
The flickering ebb and flow
of this arcane and unchanging cycle,
a dull flickering insanity
whose pulsating flame serves only
to wrench me forwards and jolt me backwards
On this tide of farcical existence
on which I seemingly exist
just to exit,
you're all pushing and pulling me,
afraid to let go.
Deaths grip won't let me slip
through your greedy little fingers though,
for the tide is turning away
Like a revolving door which carousels,
too fast for me to leave just now,
I'll have to let it slow
and instead, just dizzy around here in this gap
between the doors,
looking out whilst being spiralled in
to your reality
It has come to light now,
that I'd found the door aeons ago
but I just can't leave it be
in case I lose it.
So, for me at least, now
I feel I must, somehow,
just disintegrate and wait
to dissolve into tomorrows dark
when all will just be
that tiny bit slower
'Mine Oldest Friend'
'Twas thrice it knocked
And ten-fold echoed
The fear which danced atop
My fragile soul; my frail body
Languished, curled amidst
The deepest cowls
Of warm, woven cloth.
Didst I hide from that
Which canst be hid from
And netherto would be
Sought to venture?
Nameless, timeless and
Boundless - the shallow stalker
Akin to that of the Raven,
Who's weathered, hollow frame
Canst not be tethered.
My heart did sinketh further more
As thrice he raps
Upon my door,
With struggling brow and hastened breath
He calls my name; his nameth 'DEATH'.
Dark winding paths of
Neural networks leading back
to times and places,
A fallen star that hovers
Overhead and close to me.
Watching on with others,
Truth is mine to see.
Burned into my Self,
Consuming every thought
From that point forth,
Etched inside eternally.
Scratching from within,
Behind my eyes.
With every thought and
Deed and act
That pathway lures and
Leads me back to that
Where darkness breeds.
That fallen star-
Be like the nature of water
The formless form-
Strong yet supple,
Supportive yet yielding,
A united body of fluid dynamism.
10 thousand pounds of force
Will not crush it
Though it is easily displaced
By the palm of a small child's hand.
For we cannot live without
Nor survive drought
As it it 80% of our very essence,
Flowing freely through the channels
Of our existence,.
Gradually flowing away
Like our own life force;
So taken for granted.
'The Hideous Creature'
A motionless flap hangs from distorted mouth
while glistening brains from cracked skull spill out.
Eyes bulge wide open, half popping out;
no nose, just the holes - the remains of a snout.
The limbs are all swollen as afflicted with gout
and the chest is collapsed with ribs poking out.
This crimson monstrosity writhes on the floor
in a pool of its blood in a scene full of gore.
A crowd now does gather to spectate in awe;
such a hideous creature not witnessed before.
Some get out their cameras, some capture to phone
then render to ether the zig-zaggy bones.
A shrill siren screams throughout the whole street
No chance of this creature ever rising to feet.
Whilst hastily gathered and lifted to bed,
a medi-evil strap stops from moving its head.
No-one noticed its screams nor cared for its plight
but this hideous creature would now have to fight.
"One golden hour is cutting it tight"
as crash-team take crash-victim to crash-unit tonight.
'Gas! Gas!! Gas!!!'
From my exhausted and tortured eyes,
like dirty acid-laced rain-water,
rancid blood spurts forth - short regimented bursts.
Bubbling up from a rusty desert stand-pipe
through the dams and floodgates, a thousand years.
Stiffening torrents of spasmodic, twisted memories
pouring through and pawing my glistening face
to render their long-sought slaughter.
Screaming abrasive sands scour my flesh
re-forming me, cutting and gouging
deep coarse valleys
through which my crimson warmth happily flows.
Pathological external channels.
Life is leaving me;
Life is leaving me lifeless.
9 short seconds to recall a lifetime lost.
A fleeting glimpse of what
should have been.
could have been.
9 excruciatingly long seconds.
Then my eyes close forever.
Dawns chorus reaches out to me.
Her strong, harsh voice
ringing through the desert.
My soft skin is stung in waves
as I respond in harmony.
dance atop my rifle and
pelt my sun-worn skin.
With eyes draw shut and
lips pressed firm,
my laboured breathing wheezes.
She draws my progress to a halt
then hides me from the world.
Now safe, as captive to her song,
I can but smile and listen.
'The Night Sortie'
You sway in rhythmic flow,
Lacing and crawling
With incandescent glow.
A beautiful hue quickens from
Gold to ripples of blue.
A living carpet
Smothering all that you touch
Like Midas, your presence
Brings a fierce rush,
A dry breath which consumes
You laugh and frolic
Whilst standing tall as a wake
Of carbonised darkness
Scatters to wind.
'Cold as Snow'
The crisp crunch of each
Brings satisfaction to those
Who place themselves above-
Their cold heart
Cooling the ground around me,
They lift their pressure
Admire their impression but
Not being impressionable,
I will not yield and
Instead melt in defiance.
Like the nature of water
Ebbing and flowing freely
Pooling and collecting
In pockets and divots.
Out of reach,
Out of time
Beneath their frozen steel.