Verse Fest - I, Poet Series, Vol 4 Read online

  The light is what we all desire,

  From ignorance, fear, we can retire;

  To find the light is to make your mark,

  To begin, enshroud yourself in dark,

  Concentrate on nothing at all,

  ’Til alien thoughts seem to install;

  Now you’re approaching a different place,

  Interwoven in ethereal lace,

  Connections come from you, to where?

  Realities, truths, end of despair;

  You are now the Starchild, the ultimate glowing,

  Light is complete, you have total knowing,

  But grasp it, you will simply not do,

  It’s a truth only glimpsed,

  Too magnificent,

  For me or you

  GIRAFFOLUTION

  Graceful beast, it’s got some neck,

  And long legs so it can trek,

  Then reach up to the highest tree,

  Chomping leaves with so much glee

  The giraffe, it gave the solution,

  To that theory called evolution,

  Species adaptation going mad,

  With ultra-stretched neck, it was certainly no fad

  It adapted to its surroundings,

  Its growth was simply astounding,

  Evolving to its ultimate height,

  To collect its food without a fight

  But good job it didn’t evolve in a city,

  Imagine how huge and pretty,

  If the Eiffel Tower had been the tallest thing,

  Wow! that neck would really zing!

  So what’s the moral of this story,

  Of evolution in all its glory?

  What one species does to another,

  Can cause all sorts of bother

  So remember as we continue to dabble,

  In nature’s DNA as we scrabble,

  To turn from men into gods,

  Loading nature’s balanced odds

  That the giraffe displays it best,

  How evolution can adapt to pests,

  With a genetic neck rising to the top,

  Of our double helix, so us it can chop!

  Full stop

  LOVE

  A Yorkshire Proposal ... Feel the Power ... Seduction ... Romancing the Word

  A YORKSHIRE PROPOSAL

  ‘Aye, noo, can thee tell me lass,

  Can thee clean, is wha’ I ask’

  ‘Aye,’ she says, ‘I’can de that,

  An beat an sweep any ole mat’

  ‘An can thee cook, ar’s askin’ noo?’

  ‘Aye, a’can cook tatties and scraps and mek a good stew.’

  ‘An can thee do’t weshin, is what a’ mean?’

  ‘Well, aye; gimme’t watter a’can scrub tha’ weshin clean.’

  ‘Well promise me yan thing a’fore ‘itchin up.

  If thee iver leaves me,

  Mak sure thee’s dun’t

  Weshin up.’

  FEEL THE POWER

  This is the story of McCall,

  A man who had no power at all;

  He should have been having a ball,

  For a lady he did enthral;

  But this wasn’t enough for McCall,

  Power he wanted, that’s all;

  But eventually he was in for a fall,

  As his hold on power did stall;

  For another challenged him for it all,

  And it ended in a brawl;

  It was clearly the end for McCall,

  As he laid blooded, hurt and small;

  It was then, if I recall,

  That his lady offered it all;

  Following a kiss, McCall stood tall,

  And realised that love was real power,

  That’s all

  SEDUCTION

  Damn her,

  Damn her for being,

  For existing, entwined in my mind,

  For enforcing thoughts that spark into ideas,

  Of her

  Damn her,

  Damn her for surviving,

  For thwarting my every attempt to dislodge her,

  For caressing my imagination as I force her

  From my psyche

  Damn her

  Damn her for passions,

  For placing them in my very being,

  For infusing me with life,

  And purpose

  Damn her, for she is my muse,

  And I must write,

  Once more,

  About her

  ROMANCING THE WORDS

  With a thousand words I embrace thee,

  Love thee,

  Adore thee,

  Would die for thee

  With every good thing in my heart I am yours,

  My life,

  My mind,

  My every breath

  With every waking moment, you are in my thoughts,

  My veins,

  My soul,

  My intentions, true

  With every second of sleep you are in my dreams,

  My hopes,

  My desires,

  My eternal fantasies

  With every look I give, you are in my vision,

  My outlook,

  My world,

  My mirror

  LIFE

  Stranger ... Expectations ... Stardust ... A Winter's Day ... Distractions ... Opposites ... Inner Thoughts ... Ceremonially Speaking ... Coma ... Windows ... Celebration ... The Chef ... Spectacle of Life ... Resolve ... Perfect Days ... I Don't Like Doing What I'm Told

  STRANGER

  Life’s experience in the raw,

  Get it wrong, no encore,

  Spiralling down, no way out,

  Everything ending, no room for doubt

  It began when the stranger appeared,

  Actions occurred of which I feared,

  Led to consequence, terrible change,

  Damn the stranger, so deranged,

  No hope for redemption, peace of mind,

  No time for happiness yet to find,

  No need for thought, not deserved,

  No chance of sleep, so unnerved …

  Stranger and stranger became my life,

  Damn him, I hate him for all this strife,

  How could he do such a thing to me?

  What would happen – couldn’t he see?

  Stranger and stranger became my existence,

  Hardly here, no persistence,

  No feeling of belonging to anything at all,

  In all ways, I felt so small,

  Obliterated from life and all its joy,

  No reason to even be coy

  And when I see him again I shout,

  You ruined my life! Of that no doubt,

  Yet still he follows, won’t leave me be,

  Everywhere I turn, I see,

  Glimpsed in mirrors, left on the shelf,

  Just a ghost of me,

  I don’t know myself

  EXPECTATIONS

  Our path through life from choice or fate,

  Desires, expectations we do sate,

  At least that’s what we generally hope,

  Our brief existence, thrive and cope,

  With all that is thrown our way,

  Marching onwards without delay,

  To make our life a better one,

  The world singing our individual song

  But wary must be the man who plans,

  His life like clockwork in his land,

  For unexpected will be the dice,

  Of life’s rich patchwork, new avenues entice,

  To enrich experience of all hues,

  Changing direction, new stimuli imbues

  So warily go our hopes and dreams,

  Round that corner we find new themes,

  New tasks to pull us every which way,

  Grasping chance without delay

  How else could it really be,

  These interactions between you and me,

  Conflict, renewal, hope and plea,

  Encountering life�
�s rich tapestry?

  STARDUST

  We love them! We really do,

  Celebrities and stars, old and new,

  Showing us how our dreams can come true,

  But it can’t be us all – just a few;

  For most the dream fails to exist,

  A nightmare reality often persists,

  As we buy and borrow to live the dream,

  Hoping for stardust to rub off – gleam;

  Why do we believe in the great big con,

  Throwing our lives away for a song?

  When we know, in the end, it’s material lust,

  And inevitably it will all turn to dust

  A WINTER’S DAY

  So terrible, the winter’s day,

  Cold and biting, snow does lay,

  To chill your bones, bring on the flu,

  Sitting by the fire is all you can do;

  But when it gets inside your mind,

  Events have been not very kind,

  The bleakness filters to your soul,

  Trying to get through, your only goal;

  Until the fire’s glow increases,

  By visits, and your mood decreases,

  Laughter forcing melancholy out,

  Friends and family lessen doubt;

  And suddenly winter isn’t so bad,

  Surrounded by merriment, feeling glad,

  That you live to experience all of life,

  Facing the future, conquering strife

  DISTRACTIONS

  Life can pull you here and there,

  Forever in other people’s glare,

  Distracting you from your path,

  Even though it’s mostly naff;

  The media is aware of this,

  Rubbing their hands in total bliss,

  Offering trivia against meaning so,

  You fall in the trap, the celebrity’s glow;

  Then you become fodder for life,

  Always new tricks entice,

  To buy what stars want you to,

  Consuming always, never blue;

  But hold on a minute, think it out,

  Consumer serfdom, there’s no doubt,

  You’ve swallowed the con that you are free,

  But sadly, shopping’s your only destiny

  OPPOSITES

  Black and white, up or down,

  Hot, cold; smile or frown,

  Opposites side by side,

  Never meet, nor confide;

  Left or right, bringing strife,

  Politics sticking in the knife,

  Yet male and female equal life,

  Now and then they meet, are rife;

  Maybe we should remember this,

  When opposites merge life is bliss

  INNER THOUGHTS

  Are we who we seem to be,

  The very person others see,

  Or do we have an inner being,

  Closed from view, never seen?

  Ruled by thoughts, often jagged,

  Carrying with them our life’s baggage,

  Sometimes serene, perfect caress,

  Full of love and tenderness;

  At other harsh, spiteful, vile,

  Ruthless with a sadistic smile;

  This inner life is closed from view,

  But guiding us, never true,

  A facade being our only task,

  The real ‘us’ hidden by our social mask

  CEREMONIALLY SPEAKING

  Influence is a startling thing,

  Changing people, going ping!

  Producing a symbol that people follow,

  Even if the message can be wrong or hollow,

  A soup can makes you salivate,

  But there’s worms within, things you hate;

  Symbols, you see, can be a lie,

  And sometimes we should just walk by;

  Yet never was there a symbol stronger,

  Than public ceremony, short or longer,

  Rousing us into a throng,

  Everyone singing the same song;

  Most of them are good and true,

  Belonging, tradition, infusing you,

  But beware of those with something bad,

  They’ll so easily turn you into a cad

  COMA

  Lying there, very still,

  Negative function, can’t take no pill,

  To assist you back to a real life,

  Tears all round from child and wife;

  But tell me, do those thoughts persist?

  Is there somewhere you do exist?

  Are you in another world,

  Beauty, experience, still unfurled?

  Maybe we will never know,

  ‘Cos coming round, such secrets go

  WINDOWS

  Look through the window, an amazing view,

  Life in its majesty, events anew,

  Reactions, assignations, trysts galore,

  Fate notches up an inevitable score

  Previously you were out, reacting with them,

  They’re touched by your love, or maybe your phlegm,

  A little piece of you is in their minds,

  They dance to your tune, your thoughts of all kinds

  See how your intention directs their ways,

  Your sainthood, your devils into them strays,

  And see how they hate you, or love you so much,

  By their glance in your window; emotional as such

  For we are all gods, having sway over life,

  Our social mores creating happiness or strife,

  Your face, as you look, above them flies,

  And reflects your mischief back into your eyes

  CELEBRATION

  Let’s celebrate, they did it at last,

  Here’s a toast, fill up your glass,

  Wedded bliss is here now,

  Well done, groom, take a bow,

  Drink, be merry, one and all,

  From now on, he’ll walk so tall,

  Of course, he nearly strayed away,

  Trying to run without delay,

  But if I’m a grandad, there’ll be a dad

  My shotgun saying this ain’t no fad

  THE CHEF

  The chef is king of celebrity,

  Breakfast, dinner, supper, tea,

  Nothing escapes his magic touch,

  We like it all, oh so much,

  But just a minute, is this true,

  Do we really eat his magic stew?

  There you are, telly on,

  Microwave meal set for one …

  The food, I’m afraid, can go and burn,

  Lifestyle is the main concern,

  Programmes on food, on house and home,

  All devised for the consumer zone,

  Leaving so many all alone

  SPECTACLE OF LIFE

  Life is full of experience, allowing us to see,

  A chain of events for us to feel, never should we flee!

  For seeing comes in many ways, the first your vision, true,

  But seeing is also wisdom – relating, me to you;

  Life is such a spectacle, things we get right and wrong,

  Decisions form our path, discover where we belong;

  This is nature’s duality, the way we know what’s right,

  We see our spectacles before us, as life puts up a fight,

  To mould us into who we are, so we can see it all,

  But strange how our inner sight grows, as our vision begins to fall,

  And the greatest of our spectacles end up on our nose,

  And we remember those other spectacles; as memories they repose

  RESOLVE

  I sit here in the corner of an undecided mind,

  Decisions to be made, a path through life to find,

  Confidence is a stumbling block – do I have the will?

  Doubt has me surrounded, its voice is very shrill;

  I try to move with confidence – resolve, that is my name,

  But doubt says if I’m wrong, who will be to blame?
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  Such pessimistic thoughts are alien to my soul,

  I must take over this mind – steer it to its goal!

  My motive is optimism, I know no other way,

  Get on with life in all its colours, now, without delay;

  Doubt, you are a stubborn fool who keeps this life on hold,

  Now its time to take this mind

  Be gone!

  Vanquish!

  Be bold!!!

  PERFECT DAYS

  Perfect days, happy days,

  Days we wrap in a haze,

  Of memories that we never forget,

  Days without a single regret

  There’s been many such days through my life,

  Like the day I took a wife,

  Or when adventure couldn’t weigh me down,

  And off I went to London Town,

  Or when that new born cry is heard,

  A week of such days I’ve incurred,

  Or when the civilian seemed a bore,

  So into the forces in search of more,

  Or when my writing was read en masse,

  I felt I belonged in a different class

  Perfect days, we remember them well,

  But what is it on which we dwell?

  Life itself we rearrange,

  ‘Cos on days like this,

  We change

  I DON’T LIKE DOING WHAT I’M TOLD

  I don’t like doing what I’m told,

  It’s much more fun as things unfold;

  Systems, rigid in their way,

  I look, and often, I say ‘nay’;

  I did it when I was in the forces,

  Once I was out, no one enforces,

  What I do or what I think,

  Conformity, it really stinks;

  I reason what’s sensible, and what is not,

  If it makes sense, off I’ll trot,

  ‘Cos we have to fit in with society,

  Or it’s anarchy between you and me;

  But if it makes no sense at all,

  Rebel! That would be my call;

  I say this to my wife, no fear;

  What’s that?

  Cup of tea?

  Yes, dear

  HUMOUR

  A Peculiar Family Indeed ... Let Rip ... A Dream ... Thousand ... I Want It ... Just One More ... Can ... Did You See It? ... No Poem ... Changed ... Fridge Space

  A PECULIAR FAMILY INDEED

  They sat on the bank, the river flowed by,

  Their child by their side, having said: ‘Oh, my!’

  He was called Toverich, an industrious chap,