A Calling Card

Last I spoke to my Father
We had a chat about the weather
And spoke at length about the politics

We had a chat like we always do
Where we talked about, the this, the that
The there, the where and mostly the English weather

Last I spoke to my Father
He asked about the family, the family  
And how life was treating one, one I say "is just fine"  

As follows, there is always that awkward pause
Before the conversation goes into a long chatter, rather  
At the point of essential, just when my call unit runs out

Last I spoke to my Father it was about a chatter
It has been a long while now... I say, since we had a chatter
So today I bought a call card to call my Father for a chatter  

A Walk On Planks

Back into the lion's den to amuse
I hear sharks do smell fear

So for most in acts, parts  to soothe 
If I am to keep my head

Firmly fastened to my neck
I am to show no excite wobble

And not so, to be caught with fear
As a suit of white overalls worn

With the nuthouse this close by
Panic will hold sincere assured fall

The Time Capsules and Me

As richness places I, I was to be rich 

Rich, rich, rich, beyond one's wildest dream 

As a man, I  was to be rich in status standing 

Standing  free, wealthy and rich as status be 

And to be that rich only warrants 

The thirst of perpetual stay, of course I concur 

Putting my weight of gain and health and all  

And all my chips on such status standing 

I concur, no one in their rightful mind would want 

To see the end of good stead, if expectation perish

Is made void, quitting while one is ahead is only 

In anticipation of a down turn in status standing

And if that is an affair of the consequence of wealth 

Then thus is void in this scenario stated, and quitting

Is a concept alien to proceedings as proceedings go 

To thus maintaining t’ status quo as status standing 

Though one as human with weakness of mortality 

This is one battle for now even the richest of men 

Can not win, not yet, though Benny Ecclestone and Paul McCarty 

Would wish so, quicker, as Jackson once did in status stand 

A proposal then to be made, in cometh the time capsule

Dry freeze and hibernated in a mid-state of death as sleep

As a compromise to science's shortfall to be awaken 

In a thousand years time in status stand

Would I still be relevant like E.T 's cool 

Keeping up with the Jones as they do 

Like Shakespeare and Charles Dickens 

In status stand, the time capsules and me 

The Big Room

When summer came
Bursting lights through day
The windows and curtains winning bright

An ambience of euphoria was felt
Spreading wings wide
With arms of ecstasies rain to pour

The clock had a shadow t' pictured frames did too
 That showed rays direction as signs
The sun was to be worshiped from such angle

The single legged table had a bowl
Which sat with ripe fruits
Red red apple, ripe red apple it was

Though strangely strangely as it was
With warmth of all at present stand
It was the fire place, old love from winter

The soul of the house in winter's gather 

Which stood so strangely dark and cold

Ghostly quiet distance from summers' joy

Philosophy On A Sunday Sermon

Stranger than fiction is seasons of the world past

Present and as at, as at before with strings

Secrets of the past made subject interlude 

Of our enquiry to indulge, "hanging apples"

History by historians writes "history boys"

Always has that hint dot of fiction attached

For no story is complete without the cacophony 

Of special effects based on dramatisation of views 

Hence the grape vine and the Chinese whispers

The missing chapters and the thorn out pages

Enquiry always leaves room rich for imagination 

The unknown breeds fertile in rapid thoughts 

Speculation, to trust the mind to go 

On a wild hunt of suspense "who done it"

Between all the spiritual books and all

The Egyptian scrolls of present past  

The unequivocal stands made 

Is to have truth as a chapter subject to

Once preferred associated stands

If Hitler was to write the history books

For the bible knows and tells me so

So as to analyse what I read rather

Than take it as raw like sushi on face-value  

A chapter has subjected angles of thoughts  

Nature "God", has never spoon fed

Man to start now with the history boys

What with a big brain given and 

The will to explore with intriguing notions   

Open Heart's Surgery

Alien hearts ingress 

Alien hearts in these open ribs 

Alien hearts exits 

The Mighty Bop - Feeling good

Rabbit Hole; The Pit Fall

I have had such thoughts before 
That briefest of moments then it faded away 


Looking down the rabbit hole, strings 
Hypnotic calls from deep below 

I have had such thoughts before 
And none may know my darkest point 

I would be wise to hold back a converse 

On any such words to describe intentions  

To bring to life; I have deniability for now 

It was of a phase alien and with confiding 

None may know I have deniability for now 

And shades of grey will not near my grace again 

Fogs by the Windsor Bridge

My dairy walk with nature
Bridging the river of thoughts
With structured wide to hang

On a foggy day with boats
From the land of river where fish stocks
Are grabbed on nets of men

I would call yee
Windsor, windor thy bridge
Man made as barrrier to tame nature

Solemn walk with one's thought
The foggs in the day near this river
Hides one's thought from all

Green is my colour

Green is my colour 

Nature's own sign of life hold 

Trees with leaves green 

An Uneven Relationship

I love the west, though I hate the west
I hate the west, and yet I love the west

It is not for like or love or hate that entice me

To be of a kind and be so conflicting

To love the west and hate the west

I hate the west and to love the west

Though I love the west, I hate the west

And I pardon not my grievance so strong

For I gathered with a thousand around 99 
We were to  fight this course of freedom

I love the west, to assemble such courage

I love the west, brave William Wallace

Yet when questions were asked
For patronage of the course sincerely

I found I hated the west though I loved it

For double standards, I hated the west

Are you a chicken

And what is worse
The knowing or the knowing after
The facts,  a paradigm of roads walked on 

Cowards hiding behind blinds  
Concept of massaged normality 
Holding on to false ideology 

In my mother's land, there is a saying 
That he who killed me, holds no bound 
Greater than he who unplugged my feathers 

I Am A Sacrificial Lamb

I was silent at birth w' bliss, mother said I never cried 
I saw no evil, I spoke no evil, I heard no evil 

But I sinned before birth to be of this earth 
As thus I was born of sin 


I was innocent at birth though to earth born 
Thus as thus with sinned birth 


Surely a baptism in rivers to equal my neighbor  
As holds holy, is strong enough to cleanse 


Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil 

To have me clean, like aerial wash 
I am thus to be aerial clean 


And as thus, would commerce stop 
If I am to sin with dirt accompany no more 


See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil

Is that then not of sin, thus of me to send 
A thousand plus away, as without work to do 


As thus in this current climate of grey 
To make a priest redundant and a judge likewise  


What of the politician and his claim of innocence 
And his promises of change, change is coming 

Speak no evil, see no evil, hear no evil 

What are they to do, thus without blinds 
If I am to sin no more with selected ignorance 

And thus for the definition of sin 
To still be left as blank subject to 

Subject to a special interest 
See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil 

To have the priest, the politician 
And the judge always with work to do 

I am as then, with a role to play 
I am a sacrificial lamb for society to the alter 

Muhammad Ali's 'Dream' with Yasiin Bey and Ni...

Cracking the Morse Code

 I am confident I have cracked these codes at last 

This mystery hold and yee of little consequence 

Than  thoughts would first have us believe  as so 

As not dealing with such darkened hold be wise to 

So as to fester more with paranoia grip of weary hands 

And the shadows have no weight to hold strong 

The shadows have no substance for their night freight 

Is from the illusion objects thrown on walls 

By reflecting the very lights of brightened worlds  

I have broken this captive thought 

To climb out of my own cage of self  bondage 

To walk free and be set free with know 

Awakened from the darkness of trepidation 

Oh how the story self defeats, burring heads 

Deep into sands vying to escape as means from t' rising tide 

The mud of the sea smells fears and panic with ease 

And grips harder to pull deeper slave to its course 

I have broken the code at last, the chains were never 

With locks so strong, this is the realisation of old guns 

I am confident I have cracked the morse code at last 

I Am A Soul Man

Do you hear my heart 

Listen to my thoughts tinkle 

I have got soul man   

A Single Candle Light Burns

I will hold a candle for you, this ghost town

Name where status stands on fountains 

In the centres of central middle square with old glory

Like Trafalgar square with old glory

I will hold a candle for you in this windy state

Where the sand has invaded and occupies space

Determined to claim back to nature as a debt owed 

I will hold a candle for you, old mining towns 

That brought wealth and dreams of men no longer here 

To assert the importance you once held on treasure's gold rush 

Sceptics and philosophers say nothing last forever mortality 

Adds more value to meaning and then it is lost 

And then it is lost when time expires on what essence we hold 

But I will hold a candle out for you, a single candle light burns 

Live through me, my vessel as strong and big 

Enough to carry such weight of memory 

Live with me announce revitalisation 

And have old woods become fuel to burn this flame 

Keeping us warm in ghost towns 

Where echoes whisper and the candle light burns 

I will hold a candle out  in your name, for you 

For glory for your memory in essence more for me 

And have sentiments bask in our memory 

For I do treasure holding this candle light bright 

You became an ancestry in chapters written 

As rock foundation we stand on you for firm support 

As I watch you join the gods this solemn night 

Time and the L-plate

It is funny how time flies 

Never in a straight line, lanes  

Always with adjustment on mirrors 

Like a leaner driver with L –signs plastered 

Always too close, too far, too near, too wide 

Three point turns, as never, as smooth, as mentioned  

Parallel parking funny enough 

Time is good at that, though that depends 

Just so as not face the right side seems the buzz  

On wrong roads missing no entry signs  

Most a times reverse parking to correct close calls 

As life's scratches on the bodywork becomes the norm 

It is funny how time flies 

Fast like a NASCAR driver 

And always around in circles round 

Round, round around we go 

Burning rubber on round about 

It is funny how time flies 

Accommodating us with a philosophy of life 

On the learner's curve, then to nostalgia after pass  

It is funny how time flies never in a straight line 

Sir Usain Bolt

Is your gold worth more than mine
When thrones of podiums are set

Will your glory be more of sparkle bright
And have the heavens open up with stars

Are you of Herculean or Xena's, half god made
To have the gods cheer on your side

I know the queen in your land
Would honour you with a title, and make you god

Sir you are these days, as Sir these days
As sir to be acknowledged when mentioned in name


So as sir, is your gold worth more than mine
If the weights are all the same on scale


Though I must acknowledge, in sincerity
A title sounds nice, but Sir Bolt sounds strange


And yet for all the Queens men and women
That stood on Olympic podiums you will be the only god

Wakey Wakey On Snooze Alarm

The alarm goes off  as usual 
A twist and a turn in the bed follows 
A shift and pause, a hand stretched to reach 


A turn of heads to the side, to the side 
A slight stretch while still at rest 
The alarm clock goes off  as usual 


Snooze, seems a must 
It feels as though sleep was not much 
Between dreams and thought's hatch  


The alarm clock goes off as usual 
Snooze gave fifteen minutes tocks  
Now time is up, wakey wakey doozy bear  


Wakey wakey on snooze alarm 
Rise and shine with the light of the day 
Wakey wakey the morning calls 

101 Friedrich Nietzsche Paparazzi

And those who were seen dancing
Were thought to be insane by those
Who could not hear the music -
Friedrich Nietzsche

This is before hands free kit
Mobile phones and the like
Blue tooth becoming 
The norm, as today's gizmos

Yet though as justified as a measure
With reasons of linked notion
Communication between one
As advancement in technology

Insanity is what has become of
The 21 century being with gadgets
Where once paparazzi with chase  
Was of the elite pester in show business

And the instinct of one and every, was to
Help a neighbor or be a stranger
Back on their feet with empathy upon fall
Without thought of the likeliness of sue  

In these times, strange an attraction
That acts would be to see
When phone cameras are out rather  
To be the first with exclusivity

Snap snap snap.....

#1001 Friary Friary Stars Bright

Twinkle my star bright 

Fairy fairy star make wish 

And see it come true  

How to Bake a Goose Pie

I have gathered the birds 
All in these baskets of harvest 

I have harvested the grain 
All in these sacks of full 

I have booked a place 
On the mill to turn this grain into flour 

I have set a date with the baker 
Baker man, baker man, bake me a pie  

As we celebrate on banquet 
A  thousand birds fly out of the pie

Oh what a pie to bake before a king 
But the goose seems nice on the taste bud, bud  

Using a white glove

I will not shake your hands today 
Agreed at last, where fever's pitch 


No I am not w'h angered begrudge  
What a waste of emotion that would be 


To hold as stands on respond 
To alarm my heart beat as fast as show 


I have seen the biggest tree fall with loud thunder 
Just on the angered wish of the west winds 


Who then came to regret rage poured 
For as the tree fell it crushed a few seedlings 


And for that no one sided with the west wind 
I will not shake your hands today 


That should be enough to show intent 
To allow winds passage and leave you standing 


At most, and most if I am forced to, on civil grounds 
I will be wearing a white glove to make meaning void 

My Love Don Go

Time it seems wants to take his own back 

Like a playground child w' ownership in his hands 
Enforcing with intent to bully emotion sadness into joy 
It is mine I want it back, in insistence he holds 


Regardless of your present stands of declare 
I am more than cheerful for being that crude 
Time it seems wants to collect his own back 
Like minutes run, allowed on jukebox dance mat 


Enforcing the echoes of silence in mid-dance 
Courtesy is over rated and without show to falter 
It is mine, I want it back; hear me loud
And the heavens can rain tears regardless  

Time it seems wants to take his own back  
Like a plague on harvested grain
To leave courtship dead in the course of try
But what of love and what passion we share


What of the entwined bond we hold of touch 
What of promises we made in dream's pool 
Time it seems wants to collect his own back 
As seasons ends and autumn emerge 


We met on crossroads, on routes home
We shared a den and scattered like birds disturbed  
O my love don go, the cruelty of time clouds heavy 
The rains gather with tears to mourn this premature