Grains of sand…


The effervescence of youth
What a wondrous expression
But so long now gone
Replaced by depression.
Yet still there is sparkle
If you know where to look
Consider the Bard
And recall dear old Puck.
His mischievous pranks
And his practical jokes
In today’s modern parlance
He’s be one of the blokes.
That youthful hobgoblin
Robin Goodfellow by name
He’s the spirit of youth
The prankster’s no shame.
But soon we age and grow weary
Our youth then disappears
And our once bright effervescence
Slowly fades with advancing years.
Hang on young Robin
Hold onto your youth
For the old goblins round
Are for you all the proof.
We once had the spirit
We played just the same
And we cavorted just like demons
For we too felt no shame.
And just for that one moment
We ruled as if we were kings
For we were all invincible
With the strength that that feeling brings.
Live for the moment
Carried away by your youth
For the moment comes far too soon
When you will find out the truth.

We’re just so many grains of sand
In a desert that is only time
And our life in that desert
Is just a short pantomime.

©Joe Wilson – Grains of sand…2018

A deserved dystopia…?


The rains fell heavy that Tuesday night
No one had predicted it
No one would have believed it could be
No rain had fallen for ten years.

They all rushed out to drink their fill
And though it seemed a minor miracle
At the time, that is
No one fell out, no one got shot!

People had relied on bottled water
For so very, very long
That ever-present taste of plastic
All too common on the tongue.

Bottled water companies had made a killing
The only water there was to drink
‘Bottles of water were the new bullets’
Or so ‘they’ said, the media in the pink.

The coastlines of the world
All lined with desalination plants
And those with the power to control
No longer needing weather info-stats.

But that night, just for a moment
All of that was forgotten
As the rains poured and poured
And the world was refreshed.

Mother Nature had taken back control
Thank goodness She always does
But how long till the next rain
How long —- how long?

When the oceans and the rivers teem
With plastic of all kinds and hue
Perhaps we got our just desserts
Reliant on water in plastic, me, and you.

©Joe Wilson – A deserved dystopia…2018

One of life’s nuisances…


The hours go by
Slowly, inexorably
Every single one
Of the eighty-six thousand
And four hundred seconds
Was felt by the constant
Nerve damaged feet
And the unending pins and needles.

Nothing could be done
It will never go away
Diabetes type two, see
The price that we pay.

Perhaps if he’s lucky
Tomorrow will prove to be
A good, much better day
Pins and needles free.

Bugger! Ce la vie!

©Joe Wilson – One of life’s nuisances…2018



Wasted —-me
Time, not enough was said
Too much was said
Nuance is a funny word.

‘I love you’
You should have said —— but didn’t.

Alone and feeling like a fool
Modern parlance — you’re a tool.

And you went to Jack
Is that the answer?

Oh! Now we’re into the self-loathing
God!! Relationships go belly-up
But only because you don’t —speak!

Jack does taste nice though
I think I’ll have another.

Wasted ———— me
Oh bugger!!!

©Joe Wilson – Wasted…2018



He was drunk
Three large glasses of Jim Beam
Had ensured that
… and they were large glasses.

It didn’t help of course
No demons were driven out
Or away.
The drinking had become a bad habit.

He used to worry
About his liver
His general health.

Now it is only her
His one, his lover
His companion, his friend.
She has yet another hurdle to climb.

When will enough be enough
It would seem that the answer is – never!

©Joe Wilson – Untitled…2018

Missing pieces…


The sun was out and very bright
It didn’t match his mood at all
On this fine, warm Summer’s day
It might have been a day in Fall,

The sum total of all the parts
Is missing a vital piece
And so many suffer such broken hearts
From which there is never release.

And in his quiet reverie
He remembers a scene from the past
Where now a person is missing
And only the memory will last.

He wipes away a single tear
And sets forth on his next chore
Till a memory pulls him up short again
And cuts through his heart like before.

Yet still more tears will flow…

©Joe Wilson – Missing pieces…2018



Stranded in my thoughts
Adrift in an ocean
Of uncertainty
I find myself confused
In this modern world
Of ones and noughts.

With hands the size of plates
That thump across like an elephant
On my keyboard of dreams
My reality is
Brought to a standstill
And my laptop – waits.

Around my head thoughts have ridden
Not formed mind – just a loose array
Leaving nowhere in particular
And clearly not arriving
So laptop still quietly waits
Until the weary keyboard is bidden.

©Joe Wilson – Uncertainty…2018