THE JOURNAL I had a poetry journal i wrote in it every day it was full of love and meaning all those words i just had to say its pages were so pretty though its ink was faded blue it held all of lifes promises written down for me and you I wrote the lines there daily wrote sordid tales at night there was humor in my eloquence i wrote of darkness bright my verse was never ending my romantic tones i chose i was addicted to that journal it kept me on my toes i wrote of love and laughter tears and sorrows too i wrote of war and peace oh yes also little boy blue i loved to read its pages afore they left my mind it gave off richness and forbearance to last me all my life i wrote of friends and lovers acquaintances id known on the way some folks were queer and gentle others led me astray i filled my pages daily with anecdotes and rhyme i wrote of past and present imagination verse and father time my journal was never finished its still with me today so il just write this little ditty here then il be on my way VILLAGE FRIEND I went to the village to see my old friend he was living in rooms there he let me pretend with his bohemian lifestyle and his poetry so free i was welcomed each visit as he sang songs for me The rooms they were dark though some held a light i often wondered if it was daytime or night he painted a picture like a Rembrandt to see but it was really his dreams all displayed on the spree His poetry moved me though so were distressed with cowboys and spiders i had to regress with damsels and maidens in varied states of undress i guess he was bored there though i wasnt impressed I could see visions in the state of the rooms i was sure that was a smell there of her sweet perfume the candlelight dimmed there and the Dylan tuned played or was it Cohen singing songs from the grave The stories he sang were sad it was true though the imagery fascinated and the prose it shone through he sang of lost love and the women hed laid though i wasnt impressed when he said he was made The pen from his fingers wrote many a tune as he strummed his guitar via the light of the moon the muse it was working and the man was in trance i admired his pictures and took a curt glance His topics were endless and his reels were in spin i saw my reflection and started to sing we sang through the night till the daylight was born then i waved him farewell and departed that morn REMEMBER ME Night is fading fast remember me take me with you in your dreams my lass When sun no longer shines all day when politicians lead our lives astray when wars are won and battles lost remember love was granted at a cross When love was born in a manger bed whilst shepherds by a star were led whilst man and woman brave each dawn the poet writes his words each morn The song-smith words a verse so free with lovely words and melody when stars and moon are bright at night afore the mornings dawning light The skylark sings his song of cheer amongst the woodlands fawn and deer where grasses grow and flowers bloom the crickets dance each afternoon The joys of spring the autumn cheer the raindrops fall throughout the year oh blessed virgin graceful Savior granted gifts of life so divine amidst the blessed songs of rhyme Where forest walks and morning dews delight our eyes with splendid views the sparrow falls afore the dawn when man was new and love was born SEASIDE IN WINTER The waves came crashing upon the shore the wind it blew across the moors the seagulls swooped the clouds hung low the sands that swept across the floor the sounds like thunder of the tides the saltry waves like horses drifting upon a ride The ever folding currents smashed against the sands like fearsome playing of a band like a medley orchestrated by the masters hand the ripples of the bouncing game the overlap of a symphonys refrain the rush to greet the walkers face the sounds of the sea in time and place The tourists gone now from this place a deserted coast in simple grace a cry of birds a rush of seaweeds upon the moving tides like greeting wreaths for the forgotten brides a crashing thunderous applause the sounds of water strikes a chord The seaside medley desolate yet free the voice of God majestically GARDENS OF VERSE In the gardens of verse where the poets reside theres room for creation and magic carpets to ride theres caravans there and carousels too with roses so red and bluebells so blue In the garden of dreamers i spent my good times reading their poetry their verse and their rhymes i stumbled on innocence he was taking a ride on the wings of an angel and i took a bride I listened with wonder to words that they said as i opened the book and the fables i read there were pictures a plenty painted with love joys of creation and pictures of heavens above I walked in the gardens amongst flowers so grand i met me a man there he offered his hand a wore a white robe and he carried a book with words that were golden he asked me to look There were children out playing there games of great joy i saw them all laughing each girl and each boy the sun always shone there and the moon it was full the stars were a twinkling and there were rainbows there too The leaves on the trees were sprinkled with sands there were waves on the seas and the music was grand i heard the great symphonies and the rock n roll bands as i read from the book of the verse of the lands I REMEMBER BIRMINGHAM I remember Birmingham the streets with cobbled stones the red bricked terraced houses the place the brum called home I recall the bullring the market and the fairs the canals and the parks there where everyone did care I recall the children their skipping games of fun the Malvern Adventure Playground the places where they did love to run I remember Birmingham the friendly people there the high hills of Malvern the ladypool market stalls west Indian men with sugar in their hair The BBC theatre near the zoo where we did call the folks of many cultures the saris and the smock the reggae music played there amongst the punk and rock I remember Balsall Heath the slums wherein we walked the lamp posts on each corner where people stood and talked I remember the brummies the Irish and the Jew i remember Birmingham it was a long long ways from Poole. Where WERE YOU Where were you when the third tower fell where was the plane why did it fail where were you when Bush read a rhyme to little children did you hear the explosions was it recorded in real time Where were you when they planned the event who cleared the chaos n rubble removed the cement Where were you when the security failed did you see something strange did they plan it that well Where were you when the newsreels were censored n trimmed when Truth was censored n lost within brave civilians were unprotected that day where were the officials who created that Marley where were you when JFK footage went astray blown up in the basement on that fateful day Where were you watching what did you really see did you really understand the Truth that lied hidden in the land of the free Where were you when they planted fear in your mind to use terror-isms threat to create a society of democratic blind.
Posted on: Thu, 24 Jul 2014 07:47:44 +0000
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