Sunday, 27 June 2010

Come On England........Tales in 160 Characters

Come On England

In prayer I’ll let the face paint dry 
As three lions roar in cider me
For Rooney and Cole I’ll wear the flag
Come three they play for all OUR dreams


For more great tales in 160 characters visit Monkey Man


image via common flickr

Saturday, 26 June 2010

A Soldiers Tale: My Tribute For Armed Forces Day

Originally written for my friend, Moondustwriter, who did a tribute for Armed Forces Day in America I thought it only fitting to share this poem today as a tribute in honour of Armed Forces Day in the UK. Whatever your beliefs our hearts go out to any soldier that serves, this is my poem

A Soldiers Tale

You walked as one in troubled times
As comrades fell in open arms
Whilst life’s are led without concern
Man gives all on other lands.
And pain is seen upon a friend
As wounds cut deep & scar for life
But deeds are all we seem to hear
As medals hang & gleam with pride.

We doth our cap to all that’s been
And honour those that walked this path
But nights are long in broken dreams
As friends lay still in shallow graves.
And words are said and soft with peace
Whilst fear will stay within your life
And battles fought will always be
The pain you bare & sacrificed.


Image Commons Flickr

Wednesday, 23 June 2010

Jack: A Poem From The Darkened Tales Series That Tells The Real Story Of Jack The Ripper

Jack: A Poem From The Darkened Tales Series That Tells The Real Story Of Jack The Ripper

The sound of heel on cobbled stone
That stalked the streets of yesteryear
As sewage flowed with soiled dreams
Jack would walk bereft of fear
His mind was caged and wrought with grief
As pain destroyed his inner eye
And cancers crept and clawed his soul
A lovers voice that hushed goodbye

A nothing moon that held no light
On darkened paths and brick red walls
And staggered coves would leave their slums
To rest in doors amongst the gloom
No bells would ring in East End homes
As night would fester cold and smog
And as his heels clicked on the stones
The hooves of carriages would trot

And on this night he saw her there
As charm would ‘tice a drunken Lord
Who’s sword was stiff between her thighs
Whilst shillings lined her wayward hoard
But in the dark on hidden streets
The stench that reared on soiled paths
Jack lay down his leather bag
And drew the tools that played their part

And as the Lord would hasten thrusts
Her teeth bit deep on glistened vein
And then the whites within her eyes
Would roll as blood was left to drain
And as he pulsed between her legs
She drank the life he clung on to
But from the shadows Jack would walk
And drive his stake so hard and true

The night was filled with eerie screams
As Lord fell hard and wrestled free
He turned and fled beyond the street
As Jack knelt down on bended knee
And with his skill he’d cut & slash
To take a heart of hardened stone
That led a path to darkened graves
For him to walk once more alone



Image courtesy of walraven @ flickr

Monday, 21 June 2010

Cinders Path: A Poem That Tells The Tragic Truth About Fairy Tales

She wandered to the waters edge
As tears fell down her sullen cheeks
And as a frog would gently croak
A kiss was far from in her reach

As Cinders swept a dirty floor

Of trampled mud from sisters who
Would want for this & shout for that
Her dreams were washed in soiled gloom

And birds would sing on window sills

As mice would strive to clean all ills
But apples bite would taste so sour
As spindles jab destroyed her hour

And so she slept away from pain

Within her fragile, glass domain
Whilst others cursed at wasted youth
That lay so still in tranquil peace

As knights would ride & pass on by

In search of love to fight their deeds
Yet place a kiss upon her lips
Was all it took to waken thee

But Cinders part had long been played

As caution rode on thickened paths
And as the weeds encircled time
Alone she stayed bereft of love


image via

A Birthday Wish: A Poem From The My Struggle With Unemployment Series

Birthdays are times to rejoice but as adults we tend to reflect & dwell and none more so than when its your own birthday. This year I’m finding it tough.

Those of you that have followed my series will know how hard its been and as I face another year I can only reflect and look at my achievements, knowing that I am living on borrowed time as I worry about the mounting debts and keeping hold of my home.
Writing this series helps, it lets me purge and reflect, I also know it has helped others who are in the same predicament & as I write I secretly hope that this is where my future lies. But these are dreams and wishes to be had on a birthday cake?
The following poem, A Birthday Wish, explores my mood, my hopes, my concerns and my state of mind as another year passes me by
A Birthday Wish 
The morning sun rose in the sky
And soaked the dew within its rays
The snakes would slither across the path
And warm themselves in shallow graves.
A postman’s foot upon the drive
That caught my breath and signalled dreams
But youth has gone and doesn’t last
As bills replace the cards have been.
Another fleck of greying hair
That marks the face of yesteryear
But dreams are sought in hopeful eyes
As children wake to bring you cheer.
A smile spreads across your face
But deep inside you feel the pain
As gifts they bring are cherished thoughts
Of money spent that leaves a stain.
And hope is all but candles breath
That blows the flame of burning truth
We taste the cake of Antoinette
And gorge ourselves on wasted youth.
Whilst on the path the slugs will crawl
As damp and moss encroach your door
And snakes that bask within the warmth
Lay siege as debts hide in your drawer.
Image Supplied Creative Commons 

Rub My Palm : A Poem Of Love From The Tales In 160 Characters Collection

Lover's come calling full purses in hand
Leaving huge tips and swelling glands 
When sated throes have reached great heights
You leave them change and say goodnight 


Picture Via Wikipedia 

The Scarecrow & The Cougar: Poetry From The Darkened Tales Series

When Van Gogh drew across the sky
He circled stars & captured life
And silver birches shimmer bright
Reflecting moons ensnaring light.
As dreams were told in epitaphs
He stayed beside her fresh warm grave
And clawed the earth with sharpened nails
Afraid to leave this sullen place.
But Jackal growled and sniffed the air
As blood & lust kept dreams alive
And as the yews would sway and dance
He turned his head in search of vice. 
The copper trees have withered stumps
And elms no longer roam the fields
The hedgerows choke on passing fumes
As Jackal preys upon our ills.
And fired light & candles burned
That glowed a hearth of hardened stone
A tingled air & painted lips
Awaited him in cougars home.
He wrestled thoughts from sunken minds
That stained the brains of self neglect
As smoke encircled doubts unwind
Where gin is poured with no respect.
And ragged jeans are ragged things
That hang upon a scarecrows legs
And as a crow would take a perch
He turned his head & snapped its neck.

image used creative commons flickr gforster67

The Grove: A Poem Dedicated To A Street Near You - From The Poems That Stand Alone And Stand Proud Collection

These streets that I walk down`
I know them so well
I’ve lived on these footpaths
And tasted their hell
Behind twitching curtains
And dog soiled paths
A mattress that's dumped
Stained with memories and laughs.

And kids wearing hoods
That cover their eyes
Hands in both pockets
But empty of life.
Amid sacks of rubbish
Where innocents play
Drowned by the noise
From vehicles all day

Mornings bring laughter
As school runs begin
Slapped made-up faces
Hide desperate things.
Billowing smoke
From the mums pushing prams
Throwing their smiles
With a fake golden tan.

And shouts heard from windows
Of partners in fight
Bereft of their boundaries
It goes on through the night.
Yet birds will keep singing
And cars drive on past
These streets that I walk down
And their dog soiled paths.