Anthology 1

Kris Brooker

Copyright © 2018 by Kris Brooker

You’re responsible too

As I wonder through the valley of the shadow of me

I sometimes stop, glance, and take a peak

Realise that my heart is weak, so I never turn back, not ever. Odd that

I pause, reach, pick a flower

breathe its heavenly scent

Abduct, chain, confine it in water

and somehow enjoy its drawn out slaughter

But I never stay to watch it die

No, not ever. That’s odd.

That’s the thing, I suppose

What we do, you and I

We watch, but never really see

Avoid all responsibility

Yes, forever. And that’s oddest of all

On the never ending road in the never ending land

I’ve built my castle, it’s made of sand

So hey, I’m insignificant in the great conspiracy

I didn’t do it. Not really. No, it wasn’t me.

End

I yearn for days past where happiness larked all around me, and was easily caught with an outspread hand

Not that it ever existed, that cloudy vision of mine. An image so prompted, twisted, and hard to grasp

Not then, not now, not ever. Scratching for love to find no harvest. The effort no small or futile thing

To be left outside and snuggle in the arms of the cold, wallow in the damp that takes a little more every time

My mind, once free, now sips from the cup of regret. It peers relentless at my cloudy vision Watches itself in a state of morbid anxiety

From the greatest height I fall to lie beside myself and feel a great and unsavoury pleasure that once was, but can never be again. A Yawn toward the coming vengeance with little more than a final last gasp.

P.S.

I sleep soon on a narrow seam of insecurity. Slipping from my cloudy vision to see another that I cannot explain. There is everything to see ahead now and nothing left to share with those behind. So which side of the wall, as both seem better than the limbo in-between.

What was, is gone.

What is, can no longer be

What lies ahead, I refuse see

Swim harder, fight the tide

To late now. Nowhere left to hide

So I look ahead, it’s not my time

The road I trod and have left behind

It’s many paths and fruitless ends

The closing doors and staggered bends

And I wonder, did I leave anything behind to see

Will anyone even remember me?

Bells

Ten times the bells toll, come listen. Hear the Four Horsemen ride a plague of flame. Too late to repent and play the game. A kind word, a hug, or even a kiss. It’s not enough, they never miss

Eight times the bells toll, come gather. So what then, as the Horsemen near. Raise a hallelujah, sing a song of prayer. No, too late, don’t you dare. Death stampedes with stench and flair

Six times the bell tolls, stay quiet and listen Hear the thundering hooves, watch the bridles glisten. There’s a storm riding on blackened clouds so panic and scream. Run for your life, it’s the end of the dream

Four times the bell tolls, it’s too late, don’t bother. Kneel, lay down, hide below the cover. As sword and plague beat on the walls, to terrify the guilty that hide in the halls

Keep back

Stay away

At least allow us to pray

For what, and to whom, as the end comes soon

Twice more the bell tolls, one last chance to reflect. Shed a tear, it’s time to cry. Leave everything behind and say goodbye. Wonder how it all passed so swift. We never understood that life was a gift

Too late now, it’s gone

One final lash of the iron tongue, and it’s a memory lost. And at what a cost. As four black Horsemen ride on by. Listen to the sound that stays the same. The name of a world, none left to say it’s name.

Destiny

Such was Destiny’s mistrust of the child called Man

Of the wondrous spell of love they received

Beloved of the whore, Nature

Descendant of the Man, God

Such was Destiny’s despair

Such was Destiny’s anguish

Forsaken and left alone, to guide Creation for all time

Such was Destiny’s anger

She wept throughout the time of coming

Not yet revealed to the world, forgotten, forced to cast magic of her own. A wish for all time.

A decree unseen and unheard, but forever binding

That a heart without purpose will burn as bright as a star without light but never gaze beyond the horizon. Man would dream Destiny’s dreams but never understand or

realise his own. Be enslaved by his own creations and unable to break the bond, never to find his way.

And so Destiny chained herself to Man forever, out of spite. Bound him with her own frustration to haunt his sleep. Forever to dream with seeds of imagination but

never to understand the magic of Destiny. Finding them

always out of reach.

Imagination

Journey with me to an open world where all things are shaped by you, and me, and sometimes by them.

A world of freedom if you wish, or danger, if you dare

You’re the only on who can part the mist and share

Travel along, come alone. Maybe you can bring a friend

It’s always new, never the same, why bother to give it a name. It’s just colour and light, shade and cool. Shadow and darkness, and passion. Love and fear are the only rules. It’s more a highway than a path

No, don’t laugh

Create the world inside, inside a world, inside;

and let it be. Whatever you see, it’s free, always has been and always will. Your’s to choose. To care or kill

It’s a spinning top, no way off, no limit nor end

Hardly time to spend, with anyone, or no-one, it’s a gilded cage. A journey through a complex age. There’s no beginning and to date no end, for a man who returns

before he ever began. In time to realise what is, never was, and probably never could have been, anyway.

Dreamers Folly

If I could live anywhere I liked, it’s out there, I’d find a place.

Where the air is fresh like water pure, with roaming hills and lots of space

I’d pick a land where no man has been, and build a house beside a stream

The stoutest fence I’d craft with care, and fill the rooms with love to share

I’d take some seeds, spread and sow, and reap a harvest, watch them grow

Nothing but fields and some animal friends, stay away from Humanities bitter trends.

But it’s not a place to find alone. Why site upon an empty throne

But little chance to there is to find, a girl that shares my peace of mind

She’d have to loathe this world that’s sad, and be like me, completely mad.

One of Nine Lives

Curio wept as she knelt before the great altar. Spoke the old words and not the new. Gave inspiration that flowed from sweetness. As the flaming serpent rose up to reason her soul. It asked Questions

How long is time. For whom does the light ebb and flow

What power have words unspoken that dare not answer, or even utter a truth. What is now, that was, and can never be again.

Curio felt the energy sooth and fill her empty, as each question served, held the truth of an answer spent. Words to prove that her heart was pure. And so delighted was the Dragon that it roared with contentment and fixed it’s serpent eyes, and breathed cold fire upon Curio’s soft cheeks. And caused them to glisten like jewels in the night, to shine dark. The Dragon’s kiss delivered

whispers of wisdom onto delicate lips, and the taste of things to come, and go

And the Dragon took her hand. Led her through to the other side and showed Curio how to become. And she was no longer impatient to wait, and danced willingly into the Dragon’s breath.

Loves Confusion

Like a spreading fire my bold desire

An age of longing to share

It splashed, it soaked, it seeped right through

I could not break it’s spell

Though a hurling wind blew me undaunted

Each twist and turn was fresh

Blowing cobwebs too and fro

But still the spell . . .

That burning desire, may turn into obsession

My star consumed by a singularity

Stand back and hold the reigns. Don’t let them free

Not for a moment, let it simmer, reason

The strength to hold. The power to light this hardship

And the spell did crack

I held my love and saw with open eyes

Let it spill through pleading fingers

Watched it pour away and take me down

Before the spell did finally let go

And that burning star

Is now a flicker, a presence that waits

For the birth of a new flame

A magical spell that can share

Covered my heart in its misty bloom

Wrapped its vines like a magical loom.

Shadows

Could it be that any man who has seen me, should live a life such as mine

Of desolation and hardship

Over here, I’m hiding, where all of you can see

Could it be that any man who has lived life, has left behind more, or reached out for less

To see but never step out into the light

To bath in its glory but never feel its touch

Here in the light and shade of nothing

I fear nought, yet so many fear me

So don’t shy away

Listen, can’t you hear me calling

Here in what is, and what was

Is but a dream and yet your nightmare reigns

I walk in your steps and follow your path

Can’t you see me, don’t you want to stop and talk

Here, and then gone, and then back again

Once I had form and substance, perhaps?

The Magstalaff

If I could be so bold as to judge my own time

To call myself to answer; admit my crimes

The sentence I would pass would be heavy and just

I would pass it now and with no regret, for as I know, I must

For crimes against the heart let no man condone

Let the prisoner be forever in bondage and alone

His worldly goods be seized and forever locked away

His soul struck down in vengeance, his body chained to pay

Let his heart be drawn and sliced in three

To forever bleed in sanctity

Placed high on a staff to adorn Heaven’s gate

To remind all men lest they suffer his fate

The seriousness of the crime, a cruelty to wonder

The love of a woman is no man’s to plunder

The Night Owl

“Come to me”, say the eyes whose sight parts shadows. Its clockwork blink ensures the hunger is awake. A killer’s desire will rouse a flight into emptiness.

The Hunter is aware.

“Come, play with me.”

A gourmet incision from a razor’s kiss.

You see, she’s aware, the turn of her head.

As the playful reflection of day turns fully to the terror screams of night.

The Hunter is awake.

It’s an orgy of innocence that forages below

A field of lost souls that sing hymns to a twitching ear

Well every athlete has to flex, stretch and yawn

Pay homage

Be patience, she’ll find you soon enough

This Hunter is hungry.

Which one is this, or that; here or there

The silence screams out with prey

Which one, that one, you down there

Yes, you, you’ve won the lottery. I know, it’s not fair

So business as usual then, creeping about

Foraging for their offspring’s food

Tiny feet that scamper, fiddle, and leap with joy

Already dead, but still scratching

A She-God reveals her golden limbs

Twin hearts to herald her coming

The silence of the war drum beats the promise of a kill

All done now. Death is assured

Watch her rise majestic to block out the moon

Little beast doesn’t understand what the shadow means

A disturbance in the Force, look around you

Listen as your tiny heart goes wild

Can you feel her, yes you can

You know now, don’t you

So run little beast, get out whilst you can

Above you soars the Widow Queen

And she’s seen you, she circles.

On a breeze that blows with a whisper of welcome

The promise of a lover’s embrace hangs high upon a cloud

So squeal little beast and cry out for mercy

You can try, but there is none to be had

Wriggle and jerk, fight for your life

Feel the love of a SheGod’s embrace

Feel it rip little plaything, through body and soul

In an instant death scatters dew across the grass

Blood drips languid from all the Heavens

The thumping heart of a God serenades back into darkness

A shadow moves so moonlight may return

But not for the dead. So that chicks may survive

It goes quiet again in that worldly space

A tiny patch of earth, left empty

Still waiting . . .

But not for long, can you hear

Tiny feet that scamper, fiddle, and leap with joy

Already dead, but still scratching

The Plight of the Duck

Soar the air

without a care

Stretch my wings

ignore all things

Fly on fast

outrun the past

Cruise the winds

absolved of sins

Paddle for years

diving through tears

I Twist and turn

no time to yearn

Then from nowhere came a crash

Through the air to make a splash

Here I am now Ruby red

I fall to Earth, I’ve been shot dead.

Amusement

How I loathe that place of games

Of frustration and despair

Where fruits go round and round and round

And I lose pound, after pound, after pound.

All creatures great and small.

Stretch your tiny legs

And run, run away

Perhaps for a year

Perhaps for a day

Leave the brutality, the rising pain

Leave them to Man; you won’t suffer again

Oh stretch your tiny legs

And run, run together

Leave us, don’t come back.

Not now, not then, not ever.

Suicide

I sit on the bed and unscrew the cap

Place her words upon my lap

One last look, a quick reflection

Remember the hurt, it dulls all objection.

The last one, it’s gone, no more need to frown

I rest my head and put the bottle down

See, my eyes, they insist on closure

But what if I die with a lack of composure

Too late; whatever, I grip her letter tight

No more reason now to prolong the fight

Not long now, see, I’m ready to go

No, don’t think about the way she left, the

bitter blow

Look, the cracked glass of the window, shows a mirror image of my room

It wouldn’t dare to shed fresh light across the gloom

Little point, not this far, how did I fall so deep

Bring it on. bring it now. Bring my eternal sleep.

No, it’s slipped away, from my fingers to the floor

Oh God, I can hear Shadows clawing wood from the door

This isn’t how I thought it would go

Where are my fanfares. My golden halo

No, stop this, stop it. I don’t want to go

Is it too late, please answer and let me know

I try in vain to lift my head, up from the pillow to check. If I’m dead

Okay, that’s it then. As it all does red

If only she hadn’t broke my heart

Told all those lies that tore us apart

Funny, how it takes the pills to dull the pain

Leave only her memory and a healthy disdain

This is it then. I leave my thoughts here, yours to keep

I’ll leave you now, surrender to the urge to sleep

But if you see her, tell her I love her

I was just her boy, she will always be my mother.

Teenie

Emancipation by the Poet’s Scaffold.

This could happen if it were to be

I break the rules and chase the star

But find no joy, as it slips from me.

Tender is loving and warm to touch

I take her hand

Through the heat of passion and searing lights

I draw in close as she turns and bites.

My hand cast back as I draw in breath

I stem the tide and settle

The power of love stretches forth.

And I hold the bosom of her softening metal.

I pray to the high in doubting hope

Grip myself in urge to cope

Of molten ice i’ve seen the last

As fates great die begins to cast

What kind of life is this

To fear tomorrow and regret every day before

Granny Grumps

Rocking to and rocking fro

Takes it easy, nice and slow

Doesn’t smile much, doesn’t smoke

Just takes her seat and sips on coke

Fruit and veg, for goodness sake

It’s biscuits, crisps, and lots of cake

She never combs her golden locks

Pass the remote for the Goggle box

Great big eyes and funny nose

A quiff to make you curl your toes

Milk and sugar, sausages and sauce

Why, it’s Granny Grumps of course

She doesn’t like to bathe, been known to pong

Her shoes are too big, her dress is too long

She likes her hats three feet wide

Make her jump, she’ll scream, run and hide (come find me)

Grannie’s pretty weird, and oh, a little sad

In fact our Grannies barking mad

So it will come as no great shock

Her pseudo name is Mr Spock (it’s the ears)

“So live long and prosper”, that’s her favourite thing

Did I mention how she loves to sing

Not now though, there isn’t time

What comes next is a social crime

It’s time for school and she’s working up a paddy

Little Grumps is six years old, and yes, you guessed. I’m her daddy.

In the Beginning

Gyrating clouds from Heaven that turn

Throughout the Earth the rock does burn

Until the sea rises up to claim the land

And pounds down cliffs into stone and sand

Then a new born star shimmers gold and bright

Warmth and light ends the longest night

As animation spreads and creature’s yawn

Essence of life at sunset’s dawn

Cooling down now. It’s almost chilling

The first few years are impressive and thrilling

As tiny creature’s forage in strife

For the monumental task; the thing called life

Trees stretch limbs to gather the rain

Shelter flora and flowers, and stalks with grain

The mist falls as dew to water the lands

Genesis spreads life from the Maker’s hands

Creation

Nature held out her mighty hands

And they did open

Nature’s most precious gift was bestowed

And the light did shine

No man but God could behold the light

Without a purging of his soul

And in its image He made the sun and stars

To fill the garden with light and love

Time calls to us all

When we shun the light

The most precious gift of all

God the creator shared His love on the garden

And Nature wept with empathy

But no man but God could ever touch her tears Not without a cleansing of his soul

Touched, God formed the oceans and encouraged the rain

He lavished it upon Her garden

Sprinkling joy and happiness throughout

And She brought forth new life that flourished

Time will cause us to fall

When we cease to weep

Unable to cleanse our own souls

So much love in the garden and ripe for a child

God begged Her, but she refused. Not ready, not yet

Angry to be denied, He took what wasn’t freely given. A kiss

And behold the garden sprang new life

And God gifted the light to kindle Mankind’s heart

He lavished the land to give him shelter

He created animals so he may never be alone and without purpose.

Wounded, used, and without love for the bastard child

Nature caused the sky to thunder

The clouds breathed fire and struck at the ground

And the oceans swelled with discontent

No man but God could have stolen Her kiss

So she poisoned the fruit and whispered, rape.

Intending no man’s soul went unstained for the crime

Not to be blown forever, away to nowhere, in His name

Uneasy, the Family in the garden

Unsettled the life of the child

Uncertain of the future when the past gets in the way

When the children have learnt by example

Time, it burns

Maybe there isn’t enough

Perhaps there is just too much

Nature’s Revenge

I heard the frozen thoughts of man. Of all the beasts

as they carried on the winds. The screams, the screams, did you hear them scream. NO? Fine.

Why hear the sound of murder before the body has burned

One big flash followed by flames, and a searing heat. And then death unimaginable.

Oh, and the stench

But far worst of all, can you hear it now

Is that a yes, or the sound of silence

All that is left when everything is gone

It burned, the whole world burned because of you Man the hapless fool. The clown, the joker, the Universal Jester

But I still heard you, sometimes; Just an echo on the breeze

So much easier to ignore

When you care for nothing, nothing cares for you You who strived to find what was already there The passion and the beauty that stared you in the face. Too late to see it now. Your blind. Too late to learn, you’re stupid. Don’t bother to listen, it’s all gone

Too late, you had your chance

Not one for sentiment, it’s time to move on. To sprinkle new seeds into the dust. It’s not the first, and won’t be the final time. To break dirt and reach for the light. But don’t dig, don’t burrow, just grow. Reach for the stars, don’t try to steal them. And Uh-oh. Not this time, your roots will stay firm, bite deep, I won’t let you loose again

Safer you remain as one with the ground

It’s time now, whatever your name, there’s another to take your place. A new sense of being is being brought to be. To walk on my back where they’ll tease and scratch. Not hollow and burn, add new wounds to old, far deeper. I’ll learn to live with the scars, in time they’ll fade. Gather dirt and flower again

Make it all smell so natural again

Until then stay buried, deep, or scatter to the winds. Don’t return until you can find your way. And Offer up what you took, give it back, it’s only fair. Do what should have been done the first time around

So good luck. I’ll be back, can’t say when. Do it right this time, or beware. I will end it all again

Reflections

When I were a lad we couldn’t afford

These things yon kids take for granted

Video games, computers, TV’s

Not even a hankie to catch a sneeze

Or was that Tuberculosis.

*

Life is like a Joint

You wait to take your turn

Take as much of it’s pleasure as others allow

And then hope it will pass your way again.

*

Would that I must, but I mustn’t

Would that I should, but I shouldn’t

Would that I could, but I can’t

So I don’t think I’ll bother.

*

The reason the Universe is so big, is so everything can die and not trip over itself.

*

It’s not death that I fear, just the bloody carriage it draws by in.

*

Imagination sees it all in the light of the headlamp

Fantasy sneaks a peek through the mirror on the door.

*

Apparently time flies like a duck. The Hunters shotgun takes pot luck. So keep on flapping, hard and fast. But be assured, your luck won’t last.

*

There’s a great golfer hiding inside me. Listen, can you hear him; he’s screaming to get out.

No, wait, not screaming. The bastard’s laughing at me.

*

Why, Rhett Butler, I do believe your breath stinks.

*

A tablet, a tablet, my Kingdom for a tablet. Or an iPad will do.

*

I drive a white van, fly a union Jack, and speak my mind. If that’s a problem, fuck off.

*

Church is for people who don’t have a home, a life, or a Chihuahua.

*

Universal Credit does not achieve value for money. Unless you are an dishonest alien.

*

Put your fanny where your mouth is, and blow.

*

Do not believe a politician’s words. Never trust the banks with your cash. But do talk to Fairies in the garden, there’s far more interest in what they have to say.

*

Treat all childhood Idols like sleeping dogs; kennelled in your iPod. Much less likely to grow old and disappoint you that way.

*

A deep breath is a moment of tranquility.

*

My tombstone epitaph:

fuck you

lol

:)

Where?

A limitless Expanse where all the Ventures may live in ubiquitous tranquility and harmony..

Where peace blows from what would be north, where love and understanding ride the tides

Where nothing, but nothing may set the elements, other than the way God’s nature intended

A trunnion of expression and gifted virtues, where the dream of paradise is realised

Where unhappiness and lust were cast down to find oblivion in Hades, to be lost forever

Where sickness and hurt may never exist, and all souls care and share with their brother equals

Look forward children to your demise.

for from your ashes will come your meaning,

and time will cease to be.

Excerpt

Feel the power of love as it crashes the shore

Casting pebbles of Fate throughout all we adore.

Below sunlight that peers through a silver cloud

To cover the world with a golden shroud

And herald the Piper to prance and play

Across frosty sands to lighten the day

He cast happiness with his tunes of love

That capture the breeze with a velvet glove

Above dancing waves who cast Heavenly scent

Until crashing down with their energy spent

To leave a millpond so fresh and so clear

The first of the Elementals had shed a tear

And that’s how it began, the end of fun

Mood laden clouds that blocked out the sun

Gold and silver became grey and shade

The first of the Furies made the world afraid

So Spirits of Water, Earth and Light

Rose to the challenge and took up the fight

Sending screaming Kites that made a different sound

Wails that frightened the Piper to ground

To hide from the pain

Below acid rain

As gathering clouds shed shafts of light

That pounded the ground, and brought on the night

And with darkness came Shadows, the naughties, the sad

And that’s when the world slipped from good into bad

The garden of love had been torn apart

A fatal stab through the Maker’s heart

Such wonder woven with majestic pride

Now sorrow and sadness made him step aside

Walk away

Leave it all as it lay

But in corner of the world and left unseen

Where the quarrels were done, had ceased and been

He left the seed of a being to fester and grow

A plague on the Elementals, and they didn’t even know

So busy they were with their wanton ways

And so the virus spread and brought, End of Days

Slowly slowly to cover the land

The air, the sea, the earth and the sand

The Great Maker turned away, He went elsewhere

Moved on, left it all. He just didn’t care

An end to it all, His final Plan

He’d seeded the Earth with a thing He called, Man.

An Original tale from Beatrice Potter.

(Mole and the forgotten guest)

It was a wonderfully sunny afternoon. In fact a splendid day. The fifteenth I believe, in the merry month of May

Mole was asleep, still in bed

He’d worked all night in the garden shed

(You see Mole is an inventor of curious things; of which I have no time to tell, because in this story he’s about to be awakened by the ringing of a bell)

‘Who could that be?’ Growled Mole with the arse

But being polite he took his teeth from the glass

Put on clean pants and hurried across the floor

Scuttled upstairs to answer the door

‘Hello’, said Mouse as she pushed on past

The unexpected visitor came in so fast

‘Oh Mole, I can’t wait. Oh this is such a treat.’

‘It is?’ What the fuck? ‘Get out of my seat.’

‘Oh Mole, you haven’t forgotten? You said your house at three. You invited me round to share some tea.’

Goodness. Mole grimaced. I didn’t think you’d come

The Mouse with the hair, the lips, and the tight bum

It all came back in a terrible flash

She spoke, he replied. He’d said something rash

But Mouse was talking to Badger you see

Mole hadn’t realised, so he asked Mouse to tea

Mole stood confounded, staring at her arse

That Mouse is fit, she oozes class

But to get things done now would take a terrible pace

Stop staring at her arse. Take that look of your face

And my home, my home what a awful mess

This is no time to entertain a guest

But look at her, all hot, feet on my couch

You’re so damn cute, it’s okay if you slouch

Alas he knew, she just wanted his food

Put poor old Mole in a frightful mood

Okay, he could do this. He’d have to act fast

As he stood in the kitchen, his pole at half mast

‘Would you like cream in your tea, Mouse dear?’ He asked

Rinse his mouth and finger his nose, and there, not as bad as he thinks. But a whiff of his pits has raised the alarm, Uh-oh, they’re sweaty, they stinks

Nothing the dish cloth couldn’t repair

A few more stokes and it had sorted his hair

Two minutes later he gave Mouse her tea

‘Won’t be long now,’ he said ‘I’ll be ready by three.’

(well it was Mole’s own fault he was in this crunch, so he took a deep breath, determined to make her lunch)

‘Ill cut and grate. Spoon in some lice.’

Mouse drooled as he spoke. ‘Shall I cover it with spice?’

She squeaked. ‘Oh yes, oh yes . . . oh Mole.’

A firm half mast, had now become whole

Mole rushed to the cupboard, no, jog round the floor

He needed something cold, so he opened the door

‘Oh no.’ He cried. As he looked at fresh air

Nothing in the cupboards, they were completely bare

Oh dear Oh dear, this is very amiss

Surely I have more to eat than this?

‘Oh dear. Oh dear. There’s nothing in the house

I’ve nothing to beat for that hot little Mouse?’

‘Are you done yet?’ Came a shy little cry

‘I’m nearly there.’ Was Mole’s reply

Truth was he’d rushed off down the hall

Searched the kitchen and found fuck all.

Poor Mole, he’d often watched Mouse

Thought of her naked and roaming through his house

He was certain she didn’t even know his name

Go back, take a peek, there’s a crack in the frame.

But that face. Butter wouldn’t melt, or even drizzle

Poor old Mole, was he too old to sizzle?

‘NO.’

So take off the brakes and turn to the right

Down the carpet stairs and switch on the light

This was Mole’s own room, his pride and joy

Where he kept precious moments of his time as a boy

A selection of wigs. A draw with odd socks

A picture of Mother. His collection of frocks

Across the wooden floor to where his private stash lay

Find something nice for Mouse, he mustn’t delay

Mole opened the door and it all fell out

Plonk. On his head. With a terrible clout

He lay on his back all covered in food

Then jumped to his feet and said something rude

(Words I’ll keep hush, because they made me blush)

‘Well I never.’ Exclaimed Mole, as there in his hand

Was a particular tin; his favourite brand

‘Yes, Yes. This is the trick.’

And off he scuttled to make Spotted Dick

Across the bedroom and up the stair

Mole thought, what custard is best to prepare?

Round the bend and up the hall

Whoops. Careful Mole, you don’t want to fall

Into the kitchen he danced with glee

And threw the tin in the oven at 350deg.C

Now Mole wasn’t too big on small talk

He offered to take Mouse to the woods for a walk

But the lazy Mouse only wanted to sit

Listen and yawn, use the bog for a shit

The crux of the chat came out in a dash

This sweet eared rodent was in need of some cash

She’d pay it back to, was that his name?

Her mother was ill, at least that was the claim

How could he refuse such a very sad tale

‘I tell you what, I’ll pop you a cheque in the mail?’

You see, Mole, he was pretty shrewd

He thought that Mouse was just being rude

I mean, he didn’t even know her that well

A bit of a rat he had started to smell

No wait, that was his Dick. And oh what a sight

Because Mole was preparing a culinary delight

What to do, what to do? Make up his mind

Mole wasn’t generous, he wasn’t even kind

But look at her? Oh, she slinks as she walks

I go funny at the knees the moment she talks

Huh, she’s stretching, bent over at the hip

Poor Mole, as he dribbled custard down his zip

Mole turned Mouse down, which made her feel sick

She fluttered her eyelids, then dropped his Dick

‘I’ve lost my appetite, I can’t help my Brother.’

Wait a minute, you said it was your Mother?

‘I see now, your just a Mole that is mean

Look at you, all Hairy. You’re smelly and unclean.’

‘Wait a minute, you watch what you say. Just cos I’m

frugal and don’t want to pay.’

‘I have to go now,’ she said, ‘I should not have come.’

Aww, look at those curves, and how tight is that bum?

‘No, stop.’

One last throw of the dice

One final moment for Mole to entice

Shit or bust this was going down

Pray for a smile and not a frown

‘I’ll give you the money.’ Mole cried out. ’There’s just one condition.’ He followed with a shout

And so a deal was done

And then began the fun, hah hah

It was dark outside when Mouse had gone

Mole was, well pleased, it was a job well done

It turned out that Mouse had debts to clear

The Fox and the Hound had filled her with fear

What a turn up for the books

The Mouse with the nice hair, and those stunning looks

She was a rodent full of treats

A full blown vixen between the sheets

A Dyson, that’s what. She knew how to suck and lick

Boy, she’d pounded away on Mole’s Spotty Dick

The pleasure was great

They were at it till eight

And of all the dirty words he heard her speak

The best ones were definitely. ‘I’ll be back next week.’

Now Mole lay there all exposed, and smoking some hash

The best thing of all. He’d got a discount for cash.

LIFE

Is but this fool’s errand

In which all I yearn

Is to leave a fragment of myself

So that others might learn.

TIME

TIME. I never saw it

TIME. I never heard it

TIME. It never did a damn thing for me

Time. The older I get; the less of it I see.

WORDS

What use do we have for the unwritten word

What good are the words that go unspoken

Words that exist which cannot be read

Can only fall on ears worn by fools and the dead.

IT

‘IT’ grows with all that is tender in love,

Breaks the seed to pierce the darkness

Gazes upon the light that warms IT’s being,

Spreading roots that are strong, not shy

Casting all toward a sky that weeps. IT, doesn’t know why

Creeping forth, the need to grow, stretch in pain

Content in the knowledge, that IT was

Secure in the soil in which, IT grew

And when IT was sure it had come to be

It was joy, IT felt, and harmony

IT, stands in silence as the Ages past

Firm and fast, and watching

Giving shelter to all who share IT’s pride

Throughout the times and the changing face

Content to stay in its happy place

A watcher and a thief of time. A comforting presence

The Lord, in a sense, of the valley below.

So busy down there

They come, they go, they settle and move on

IT remains. IT belongs

IT barely notices one season from the next

The wind from a whisper. The sounds from a song

As one snow melts and the next arrives

For this is IT’s home, Its time to breathe

To stand on the hill and watch others leave, and never return

But still, the years are good and the presence of IT’s asylum never dwindles. Never loses allure

Happiness rains from the sky to be absorbed in the ground

Creatures came to bare their young

To leap and frolic beneath the sun

Love is ripe in the valley of Gold

Until a Tempest howls, and in they rolled

Strangers come to IT’s valley

They bring with them a shadow

The sound of trumpets and glory, and stamping boots

Friends and neighbours flee all around

But IT stands still. IT holds its ground

Thunder thunder rolling, crashing through the hills

Lightning strikes the ground and kills, and spews, then settles in a deathly hush. The river bleeds. Everything is dead

IT, feels so strange. IT, feels anger so great

IT, can do no more than watch and wait

Silence follows thunder, the strangers move on

IT, stands battered and torn and dazed. IT, bleeds

IT, watches. Mystified by the strangers left behind. Asleep in their holes, they rot in their burrows

The beauty of the meadow, of the valley has died

Creatures no longer crave to be at IT’s side

IT, stands isolated and alone, a prisoner on a lofty throne

Silence, the only sound to be heard

Not a creature has shuffled or stirred

Strange how IT now feels the cold, the ravage of seasons old

Lonely, IT weeps with a body wounded. Infected with a cancerous rot

But nobody cares. To us, a tree has feelings, not.

Doors

Life is a portal, a gate, or a door. Which opens another, that opens the other, which closes behind. And your trapped

No going back, only forward and ahead. Through the door, and then another, try the other one instead. But what about the other, will another one appear. Try another, try the other, before all the doors disappear

Move on, try the handle of the one that’s before. Try another, not the other, that’s the magic of the door. Straight ahead, not around, just follow the floor

One door, then another, and then one door more.

Life is a doorway, it’s linear but never straight. Walk through a door and you’ll reach the other gate. As it opens another shuts, only one will not refuse. All the others you’ve ignored will lock themselves for use. Turn left turn right, never leave your track. Don’t turn around, that’s the door; it will never let you back

I know, you’re tired, you’ve opened so many doors. One door too many has really been the cause. Each one burdens more than the last. You used to open the doors so fast. But not any more, those days are done. Opening doors has stopped being fun. One more, only one, and then no more. No others ahead, and nothing from before. Walk through, exit, your life here is done. So pause, take a breath. No more doors, there’s nothing left

But what about the doors, never used and gone. Well, they will return for the next one along.

The forgotten Man

Tossing and turning from anger toward despair, wishing it would all end and not understanding why it won’t

Shoot up, and accelerate. Plummet toward the ground

Throw Yourself down to depths undiscovered

And search for light where only darkness can breed

So turn and twist toward every shadow, as they nip and bitch. Listen to Your body ring a thousand bells, only to find it falls on silence. And wallow, hearty, as You follow the same sorry trail as if it where yesterdays. With only the promise of another tomorrow

It’s a trap with teeth that takes you for a ride

Where time stands still, and stands You alone. You. Turning inside and out, outside and in as the clock chimes another empty stroke. Tick, tick, tick passes tock, tock, tock. Each one closer than the last and further from the first, until the hour hand finally refuses to rise once more. As the seconds scratch slow down a board that is black. And then you, what of You? I’ll tell you . . .

You’ve become as one with the Forgotten Man

Epilogue

Such a funny thing, the dark-side

I don’t remember that it ever opened windows for me

But it has closed plenty of doors.

It has never offered me water, only another glass of wine

I don’t remember it ever taking the time to ask me, WHY?

But it’s a friend, isn’t it

I hear it call out when I’m needy

Or is it really calling out in need

A friend of a friend, indeed

So is it a thing, or just a deed

Am I its picture, or just the frame

Am I the victim, or the one to blame

Questions, questions, questions

The dark side never answers

Proving there is nothing more that any of us can learn

So let it rest

Let it fall back to sleep

And wake yourself to the lighter shades of grey

And feel your heart beat for a reason for one last day

Never surrender the Love as it ebbs

Don’t parley, bargain, or hide your star, not even for a glimpse of the moon

And strive for serenity

Reach up to the light for divinity

Worship the reflection of others that make us smile

Find meaning in being

Seek perfection for your soul

And conquer the eternal struggle to find peace

For as we received Genesis

So must we accept Judgement

Which makes me thankful; that I don’t have to justify the means that lead to Your End.