What’s going on in there?

There it is,  that thought, again! 
What is it?  Is it my mind playing tricks?

I see life as a battle
A war between my mind and another mind.

Who’s in control? Me or it!
Or is it him, or her? My feminine side!

Who cares! For now it’s me.
And for the moment I function
But only as a male human being.

How do I do?  Christ! I don’t know.
I just do my best.  I do.  I do!

©Joe Wilson – What’s going on in there?..2013

Gone Fishing

I’m sitting here shivering and waiting
And I’m not having very much luck
While Tom over there has a net full of perch
There’s nowt on the end of my hook.

It’ll be just the same when we next go
Tom’ll fill up his net with some bream
Me, I’ll catch me a couple of minnows
But I’ll smile when I’d much rather scream.

But wait! The carp season cometh
And it’s my turn to have me some fun
The one way that he’d catch a leather
Is to shoot at the thing with a gun.

The carp, what a mighty opponent
Has such power and grace all in one
But poor Tom as he lifts up his ledger
Finds no fish, and the bait has all gone.

The Lonely Man

He sat there lonely, very sad

Redundancy was very bad

You’re too old at forty-eight

Go and sit, and wait – and wait.

 

And after he had sat and waited

Pride had gone, he felt deflated

 

No one would ask him

No one would care

Who’d want to know

Why he was sat there!

 

And thus he sat as he was told

On old park benches, tired and cold

Until one day he simply died

Nobody missed him, nobody cried.

 

He was far too young at fifty-seven

To leave his bench and find his Heaven.

 RIP

But, no one had asked him

No one had cared

His dignity gone

He’d completely despaired.