IF:
WAR is best served RAW,
The LIVE appearance of the world is EVIL,
“To have WON” is only appreciated in the NOW,
a RAM is the grass’ MAR,
MALI has the same energy state as LIMA,
a WOLF can keep up with its activity FLOW,
LAUD really share similar characters with DUAL,
a BAT can keep a TAB on its prey,
moving through the RAIL of life would make me a LIAR,
my ‘i WAS’ actually referred to my ‘i SAW’,
dinosaurs ARE existing in our ERA,
a MUG could only be made out of a GUM,

Sat here in limbo land
The brain fog has set in again
Where to turn, no where to land
The dream of dreams reality
today has burned
Ambers
fly high
But today don't quite reach the greyed out sky
They flicker and twist
Memories of yesterday are the now in the mist

My mother groaned, my father wept:
Into the dangerous world I leapt,
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.

Struggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my swaddling-bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast.

Tweetie birds tweet, in the bushes;
it's music to my ear;
sitting outside, the hospital patio,
they called for a mate, loud in my ear.

I'm tired, worn down, trying to work;
I pushed forward through the depression;
I do not know, how to think;
will she get better, or slip away.

Past disappointments, has me bitter;
I'm unwilling to communicate, all my feelings;
like daggers and missiles, my words spewed;
alone in mind and heart, I find it hard to cope;

Memories of gone times

Such a lovely memory
unread by any
sad 'tis
sweet child yours
now must be 18

Memories live
all else passes away
life is given to be taken away

This is the wish of Almighty
what can we do
Memories alone will be left behind
in vaults deep under the forgotten ocean of time
who will ever read
can you tell me...

The second thought

And do you know what God...
Your god would reply...
had I been given the power to say....

In The Zone

whispers...
through the dark deranged portals you evoke fear
filled with angelic fervor on it's textual base
yet we dig much deep then ever before

cries in the dark will light the spark of what we need to know
still we stand idle as the average novice introduces its spell
along again then the sadness evokes a newer feeling
dwindling through the vain extraction of the never world

When we were children there was an old Iron mine near where we lived, It was like a miniature Valley.
This piece was really the first try at poetry all those years ago. and it is in that old exercise book, I have here..
It has since been edited but this is the original as I wrote it 60 years ago..

The Valley 1957

I have misplaced my muse, have you seen her?
Once she wandered off in a Poussin painting;
She went running up the hill totally naked,
Condemned for eternity to watch group sex
By muscular gods, as her feet became hooves.

I believe I saw her last sitting by the river road.
She might have joined the caravan of geese
Gliding on the trade winds to the rich swamp,
Like biking downhill the mountain pass for miles,
To the promised valley with the perfect pub.

Late is the hour, later the light,
Yet I could stay up here all night,
Following, lighthouse swinging low,
sweeping beams through green shallows

Over there, shall I call it sight?
No more, red glimmer, shimmer light
of Calais, and the remnant coast
are land locked with my heart in throat

A cry from deep in that old town,
I was younger then, and easier drowned
She ran to me, then ran from me
I let her go, I let her be

i can literally feel letters, words, sentences fighting their way through and across my mind

searching for an outlet, also searching for emotions to define them

do i dare wake the sleeping demons?

do i dare go deeper than this?

do i dare search for these emotions

when i find them - because eventually i will- and i turn them into words, will you think i am crazy?