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August 28, 2014
When always on the
back foot relying;
a retreat in place;
a safety net.
When always ready;
a dash implying.
A repeat of pace,
where freedom met.
July 20, 2014
Pause for awhile.
Let your thoughts
branch off at the
next roundabout.
Escape briefly
into the unknown.
except, there is no unknown.
Only familiar ground,
constantly coming around.
It’s just a trick
that the mind plays
with ones emotions;
a calming balm,
a soothing lotion.
There’ll always be
a next roundabout.
Whether to take it or not,
well, that choice is yours alone.
June 18, 2014
A life lived out on centre stage,
where exposed nerves in anger rage.
He who stoops to conquer shall be slain;
what agony, the hellish pain.
The lack of trust so evident;
a life snuffed out, a sad lament.
The procrastinators now deceased;
the final scene, the applause increased.
The raucous cheers, the standing ovation,
the dying seconds, the jubilation.
A life lived out on centre stage;
originality expressed for a paupers wage.
The war-paint removed, the Dressers all gone.
Once more, as ever, it’s back to one.
The sound of triumph, no bills will pay.
The cold emptiness, at close of play!
June 5, 2014
and all the others
in between
were cast out
by a demon gene,
that threads it’s way
back into play,
in another form,
in a different way.
and then they mock
and say they knew;
time changes not
the damaged few,
who aren’t repentant,
who aren’t ever free
of the stigma left
from the Judas tree.
At one with you,
at two with her;
needing companionship
with an hour to spare.
At three with you;
an hours sleep to share.
The gaming table’s fixed
or so you swear!
At four with you;
no time to spare.
A lost sock left
under a hotel chair.
At five with her,
in daylight’s glare.
A quick farewell;
the day to prepare.
At six with her;
part of a pair.
A phone call home;
love waiting there.
At seven with you,
on the road to where
groundhog day begins,
on a wing and a prayer.
May 24, 2014
Always fighting for survival
in a world of feral beasts.
Like wolves devouring crumbs
from inedible phantom feasts.
Just like age-old lemmings,
forward, blindingly they leap,
at speed, clear off the edge,
without first, a single peep.
Putting all their trust in others,
who they scarcely know.
All lonesome, helpless souls,
with raw emotions laid on show.
Forced on by sheer necessity;
heartache, the common trait.
They cling on to the faintest hope
each new horizon may create.
April 27, 2014
The branches creaking on the mighty oak
after a tailored life, that was bespoke.
With sap now seeping out of its solid trunk
as alarm bells say ‘time to debunk’.
And all the knowledge, that therein lay
chopped into logs; a hideous price to pay,
when the unexplained deluge took our yield,
killing off our livelihood field by field.
And when not even the steel, of the mighty oak
could escape disaster from this untimely soak.
April 18, 2014
The news so sudden;
The shock so deep;
The stain indelible
where footsteps creep.
The timing terrible;
The wasteland gone;
The gas lamps on view
from where once light shone.
The blinkered past;
The smoke-filled days;
The chimneys now demolished
but overhead, still skies of grey.
April 10, 2014
and once on that path;
a slippery slope,
where exposure reigns
and battles with hope.
And once caught in a trap
that becomes a blind alley,
always a price to pay
in that darkened valley.
April 9, 2014
During times of forward thinking,
old thoughts flood the brain.
The mind so rich with new ideas,
cannot dismiss a past refrain.
When caught up in a revolving circle;
the head, a kaleidoscopic churn.
Where ideas put on the back burner
are about to make a return.