Poems

What makes men do what they do Shatter lives that seemed so perfect Disrupt the lines of existence Hurt those that had there respect Why do they create antagonism Where only peace once reigned Kill wives,brothers,children Mouth platitudes-all feigned This world could...

As Confidence goes There is none to show Beyond this smile, And youth features I myself have no confidence to show. With a hopeful mind, And bitter sight The confidence is still a mighty fright As confidence is reflected Upon me, myself and I There is no hope Of...

I have exactly 5 mins on the clock Tick, tock, tick, tock Till I return to the key …. With hours to pursue I’ll manage to break through Put on a dim smile, Like I never Knew As I have exactly 5 mins on the clock Tick, tock, tick tock. …… when will the world learn to...

I have not yet, Seen the sky form Beneath the sea Let the waves oversee me Let the crystal forms of salt Approach the inner soul With utmost power I shant dwell The pity of faith Is beyond me … I have not yet seen the Sky form beneath the sea.

Life is a story waiting to happen As page by page it yields A perfect image of any subject Which covers so many different fields But this is the tale of a young lad Who dreamed as teenagers may What was his ultimate goal in life Which Career would he choose at the end...

The sleepless nights the screams of pain, the trauma from war drive me insane Fallen soldiers names I know of by heart, the contestant fighting is ripping me apart Hearing the orders that got a man killed, I try so hard but am turning to pills An argument erupts and...

I was on patrol in foreign lands, walking in the heat and on desert sands We stopped our vehicles, to set up a VCP, as I stood there on guard, knowing the enemy could see me We checked the vehicles as they passed, then all of a sudden that an earth shaking blast I was...

You may ask why do what I do? A question so simple an answer so true When you wake up and switch on the TV, do you imagine being at the horrors of which you see How would you feel if you saw something untoward, and you did nothing and a bomb goes off Do you know the...

We stand and wait for your flight to land, to your home from desert sands The order came you answered the call, you did your duty you gave it your all You do a job that few could do, you did it with passion and honour true In the rain we wait for you flight, we can...

On ceremony parade stand there still, thinking of the fields where men did kill Glory and pride am standing there, memories of battle I’ll never share Am standing there under a thousand eyes, but I see the pair of eyes begging not to die Orders are shouted and we do...

It is not that I do not possess any … Or that I fear I do, It is what happens when the confidence Becomes ‘I know what to do’ When the mind plays tricks And tells you You know exately what to do But the response Is not the same Not for you …

Earthen morning Warm blood stirring Territory proclaiming In pureness of singing In step with my walking One’s spirit is lifting Joyously

Young lovers met by the sundial. Tracing the channelled dull metal his fingers brushed her gloved hand. Through the silk she felt the charge her heart missing a beat of the clock. Yet the falling shadow remained still. A hint; that now was not the time to love.

Hope was born into an African dawn New life breathed, a future bequeathed, First plaintive cries, under African skies When Hope was born. Hope was born into an African dawn Nurtured from seed, she sought to feed First suckle of breast, under African behest When Hope...

Fire smouldered in the belly of spring, erupting from splitting paper-skin bulbs, upwards in shooting green of flame licking colours; seeking the feeding air. Whilst at its heart, it burned with a passionate longing; for another triumphant year!

Freedom is like a breath of fresh air Freedom is being allowed to think Being able to express your feeling Without being persecuted for your beliefs Without freedom you are shut away from reality You become en trapped within your mind Your very existence becomes...

Barbed wire is the Esperanto of repulsion: A written language of jags and scribble. It is a ribbon of the Underworld, An Ariadne's cord, leading Through war's wreckage, its hovels And palaces. Its songs, its hum Stalk in gloomy triumph through hospital corridors,...

Of course, there are three kinds: There are the cheery young ones, up at the bar: Buying you beers, Showing you pictures of their families. Then, the pomegranate men in an armoured column: Its metal back flexing like a centipede, Its helicopter whiskers, its burr of...

Someone who’s killed makes part of our lives stop. The last snap of the front door behind them Is kept inside a chamber in the heart. Someone who’s killed Can seem to go on forever, standing still. We become their background -trivial, Mundane- with our house keys,...

Tomorrow, the Lord of Life and Death Will again be keeper of the public latrines, But today, with stone eyes and a stone hand, I salute him. I knew him before he was powerful. I put money in his pockets and food in his mouth. For him, I ordered the dead to canvas the...

Bombs can swim Like jellyfish, and squeeze Precisely: into churches, Books and airport clothes shops Where small silences live in thimbles And cuff link boxes. The giant tortoise silences Live in palace squares Where kings and presidents Inspect their troops, And wave...

I was killed then my grave was lost. Once a gypsy read my palm and said I'd own a vast estate. Here it is. I'd have no money worries. That bit was right. My life was dragged in a blanket to this grave By some friends-in a delirium of blood- It was night time. They...

As the searchlights bandaged its dying air, My mind burned with my city. I watched my people wandering through colonnades Of smoke, searching for the lost Or for new countries. The frontiers of my life have turned to fissures: Beneath the elegant aircraft, like...

After the first attack,Both our language and our music were beyond repair. The UN and NGOs workmen are doing their best, tidying up. Their wrecking balls and pickaxes break up our metaphors and similes. Look. In ostrich plumes of dust, poems fall, crashing like...

Every family has its secrets: He had been flying beside us all our lives: At Christmas, birthdays-was an unknown guest at weddings- Present even at games of football beside the pond; Seated gazing up through the mossy Perspex And farm pond frogs, forever, With three...

Softened moonlight on glinting deadly steel passing over the battlefield Blood pooled in black, a man’s life left behind the moon still smiling down Shadows casting across a scorched land, torture and death still at hand Misplaced guidance by a misplaced limb, and...

If I could be a poppy I think my life would change I could honour all the fallen who fell where I remain The souls would not be forgotten least not while I stand The soldiers whose lives were given here on this bloody land My petals would fall each evening to remind...

An angel watches over me, makes sure that I'm okay An angel listens to me, hears all I have to say She listens to the stories, of pain, of grief and fears She listens and she soothes me as I shed all of my tears An angel holds me closely with her words not in her arms...

Look into my eyes my friend and tell me what you see I fear the answer given, for I doubt what you see will be me I fled this place so very long ago looking for my own inner peace My mind is full but not of me someone else has taken my place I cannot describe the man...

It is a sadness you know, which has grown so very old Like an old fable or famous legend that is always being told Both have always had a purpose though only you know what Whether it is to soften the heart or is it to harden the lot The high def scenes of a movie...

The soldier stood there laughing joking with his wife Happy just to be back home with his family and a normal life, He had missed the warmth and love they gave each and every touch It felt so good to him to feel the love he had missed so much. The joking and the...

God saw that your loved one was dying It was time to bring him home He called for his finest angels So he would not ascend up to Heaven alone The angels took him by the hand And told him not to fear For they were there to comfort him As his time on earth drew near...

Some say that charity begins at home In some ways, I do agree Personally, I think it starts deeper than that I think charity begins with you… and me Charity is to look inside oneself Deep inside your heart To what compels you to put someone else first Is where true...

My child. All your life you smiled, Your temper was mild, You laughed. You lit up my house, And every day in the dark Is a reminder. Sweetheart, I remember the spark, Dancing in your eyes But I lost you.

I’ve come back to the battlefield for the memorial service. Today, the dead names chime like antique clocks All set at different times. The blue riflemen shoulder arms and walk away, Leaving us to live on through this time of careless miracles Where the dead can speak...

Atomic bombs are shadow cats That move invisibly amongst us, like angels. They purr in Geiger counters, grin Cheshire In ministerial assurances at the despatch box Of their necessity In repelling rats, mice and those in national dress And olive uniforms that our...

From a big country, in big plane, I travelled ten thousand miles to be here, To this bed-sized scrap, to this sick land My world has shrunk to. I am examined every moment By the Surgeon Explosive. He takes my pulse. I can feel his binocular gaze pinching me, Running...

There are no Nazi Porn Stars on the Moon. Humanity can slump into its accustomed chair In front of bearded Taliban on the news. Victory's certain and victory is soon -Remember- There are no Nazi Porn Stars on the Moon. Our enemies now all smoke and do not shave, Are...

Party, party all the way Celebrate St. Patrick’s day Splash the cash out on some drink Knock it back don’t even think Later on we’ll have some food Whatever cuisine takes our mood This excess will make us belch (Don’t let on we’re really Welsh) St. Patrick’s day is...

The Poppy, in Flanders Field, The flower in which we yield. This plant, in which we see, Sorrowful, we can all be. We wear this poppy, on Armistice Day, To remember those, who fought in this way. Those who fought, those who died, For our country, in which they guide....

In a lonely foreign field, where poppies gently weep; Many brave men, here were killed, in Flanders, Somme and Ypres. That they must fight, they questioned not; It was their obligation. So in these fields, their corpses rot, protecting their home nation. The blood of...

There is and always will be war, no matter where or what it's for. For those who battled, those who died, did so for more than country's pride. They did it for the rights of others; Kinfolk, strangers, children, mothers. They fight to keep darkness at bay, that may...