Fate (a Sonnet)


The twists of fate that brought me here
Have often lead to places anew
But the most enjoyable twists of fate
Are the ones that brought me to you.
Even in the very darkest of times
When life seemed so desperately blue
We’ve loved together and stood together
And beaten the odds and won through.
There are sorrows too that we don’t talk of
A pall of great sadness may descend
But we care for each other till the hurting subsides
And we do that as lovers and as friends.
My life would be that much less without you
I’m so happy that you feel that way too.


Joe Wilson – Fate (a Sonnet) 2014

‘Walter’ – A Sequel [Perhaps]

When I wrote ‘Walter’ it was intended purely as a one-off poem about a subject that I’m interested in, and based on the various ways court cases have gone with regard to the mental aptitude of these types of murderers. I wrote it from the point of view of the reader having a degree, obviously a small degree, of sympathy for him. However, I see that it lends itself to a sequel if one’s feeling a little mischievous. This is one, there may be others later if he ever shows up. Joe Wilson – ‘Walter’ – A Sequel [Perhaps]

albert fish 1870 small


It was an fact of pure folly, such a negligent act
When the prison guard left the door open a crack
And Walter being Walter just walked out of the door
The courtroom nor the jury saw sight of him no more.

He made good his escape by hiding on a ship
Refraining from his hobby till giving all the slip
He alighted in Dublin and went straight underground
While he started to study the prey to be found.

It was not like before as he hadn’t a home
So he killed tramps and ate bits and then he just roamed
And it wasn’t too long before he’d killed more than ten
As panic broke out about the cannibal again.

But Walter kept low and moved only at night
All of his killings were out of plain sight
He found an old disused shed at the edge of a park
Where he now lured his victims each night after dark.

The sad haunting song still played in his head
But sometimes he heard screaming victims instead
Though that never made Walter regret what he did
He heard the strange song and did what it bid.

One day as he walked through the park to the shed
He saw many policemen so he turned round instead
He knew they’d find the bodies inside his new house
So he crept away quietly as if he was a mouse.

The papers all screamed he’d killed twenty more men
Shouting ‘who’s going to catch him?, and importantly ‘when?’
The song told him go so he sneaked back to the port
Where he boarded another ship to a nice new resort.

No one ever saw Walter again from that day
There are those who just hope that he sailed far away
But he’s not in a prison, and no body has been found
So take care if a humming man’s there when you turn round.


©Joe Wilson – ‘Walter’ – A Sequel [Perhaps] 2014


Albert Fish, born 1870,  the Brooklyn Vampire
Albert Fish, born 1870, the Brooklyn Vampire, an example of a ‘Walter’.

Walter never understood what he had done wrong
In his head he heard only a sad haunting song
He sat in the courtroom as he had been bidden
All sense of the seriousness from him was hidden.

His mother had left him when he was but a child
His father he’d not known, they said he was wild
And to the children’s home where he had been placed
He was often returned after some strange disgrace.

To him it was natural, he liked to trap rats
And later dissect them, and the dogs, and some cats
But the thrill of small creatures was beginning to bore
So he turned then to people, once one, then lots more.

They followed him willingly when he offered the treat
Of a room in his house as opposed to the street
Then he drugged them and tied them as they lay asleep
And cut them to pieces just like he did sheep.

His total was forty as far as they could tell
They had come to his house because of the smell
He’d eaten some of them and the taste was so good
And Walter was especially fond of the blood.

Now here he sat quietly for the jury to see
This ‘disgusting murderer’ who ate people for tea
And he hummed the strange song that he heard in his head
Wondering who he could eat before going to bed.

Each day when they finished he was taken away
And locked in a small room so he couldn’t stray
And it never occurred to him that he had done wrong
As he sat and he rocked and he hummed his sad song.


©Joe Wilson – ‘Walter’ 2014
Like most people I’ve had the good fortune never to encounter a ‘Walter’, but I have had an interest in criminology for many years. I do hope the subject matter and poem doesn’t upset or offend anybody. ©Joe Wilson – ‘Walter’ 2014

A Swedish Summer

The children feel the mood as the days for dancing dawn
The costumes in all bright colours awaiting to be worn
There’ll be singing, music and dancing galore across the village green
And celebrations of every kind in all the towns are seen.

For it will be Mid-Summer, and on Midsummer’s Day
The mood is lifted skywards as everyone wants to play.
The music will be a symphony as light as light can be
And the Dance of Dreams begins to the Swedish Rhapsody.


©Joe Wilson – A Swedish Summer 2014

Swedish Rhapsody – The Percy Faith Orchestra
(The Encyclopaedia of Music – Best of The 1950s)

The Pointlessness of This Kind of Death

actual sign_edited

He stood there with his banner in protest,
wanting no more of his people to die.
But the militiaman guarding the building
fired his gun and he took his last sigh.

Why do people stand there in protest
with others who are of the same mind?
And why did the man fire his weapon
and kill a citizen with whom his name rhymed?

The politics go round and gets nowhere
while poor people have to queue just for bread.
And as long as the ones with the guns hold the cards
in that place DEMOCRACY is dead!

The militiaman was beaten to death by a mob
as the media filmed it, we’re depressed.
The man, he lay broken in the rubble and mess
nothing changed in the continuing unrest.


©Joe Wilson – The Pointlessness of This Kind of Death 2014

Democracy…as long as it suits us


We think we’re so wise in the West, encouraging the adoption of our kind of democracy. Egypt as an example, has one of the longest histories of any modern state, having been continuously inhabited since the 10th Millennium BC. It also has the oldest parliamentary tradition in the Arab world, establishing a popular assembly as long ago as 1866. It was us, the British, who caused that to be disbanded in 1882, by invading them. We allowed the country to only have a consultative body. It was only after their independence was declared in 1923 that a new constitution was declared which allowed for a parliamentary monarchy. Since that time there have been many changes, not all good by any means.

But is it for us to interfere?

The list of countries in crisis politically is almost endless, but surely the function of other countries is to provide humanitarian aid, and sometimes a safe haven. When the West interferes crises inevitably escalate purely on the basis that our ‘help’ is not wanted in the majority of cases. The resulting refugee situations that always follow such interference and the danger from ordnance left, such as mines, causes almost as much harm as the West claims it’s trying to avert.

And who are we to talk anyway?

The West’s nemesis, Russia is now led by a man who is bent it seems, on gradually putting the Soviet states back together, no doubt with him as its leader. People who oppose him end up in jail, even in so-called elections. The other dark horse, North Korea doesn’t really bear thinking about.

And Us!

America wrenched itself away from a brutal tyrant in the form of us, England (as it was then), but savagely treated the American Indians to gain land for themselves and to dominate. They also took many diseases to the country that the Indian population had no defence against. They bought black slaves of course too, though a largely odd fact that never seems to get mentioned, that most of those slaves, gathered in African countries like Dahomey (Benin), Sierra Leone, Biafra, the Congo, were kidnapped and sold by other black people, mainly traders or pirates, and often under Government contracts. Black people today in America do not always get a fair deal, but then neither do a number of white people, gay people, or vulnerable and/or disabled people.

And the UK! Slavery existed here too and was only finally abolished throughout the British Empire by the Slavery Abolition Act 1833. In Ceylon (Sri Lanka) it was still in existence till 1843. Men still touched their forelock to the gentry up to and beyond the First World War. It was only after the Second World War, when women having had to work in the ammunition factories and finding themselves being forced back to the kitchen sink, and men realising that their blood was the same colour as the gentry’s, that people started to get educated and achieved a kind of equality. Of course even today, in the 21st century, women don’t get equal opportunities for jobs, nor get equal salaries for doing the same work. Ethnic minorities still often find themselves on the receiving end of abuse or violence, or both. Gay and Lesbian people still find people looking down their collective noses at them. We have some members of the Police who let down the majority by behaving criminally, as is true also in the NHS, and the Press, and of course in politics, where there is so much corruption it doesn’t give them any credibility at all.

We are no paragons ourselves.  So as I say, who are we to interfere?

Who the hell do we think we are?

©Joe Wilson – Democracy…as long as it suits us.2014

Being a Light in the World Award

I’d like to thank Melissa S Jordan (http://melsj.wordpress.com/ ) who  nominated me for the “Being a Light in the World Award,” for the critique-like poems I wrote about the utter futility of war. I feel greatly honoured, it is rather rare for me to win awards.

The award was created in 2012 by Barbara Matteo who blogs about women’s issues and spirituality on the blog idealisticrebel.


“Barbara created the LITWA to celebrate those wonderful people in our world who spread light, love, hope and peace in the name of humanity. Bloggers receiving this award are encouraged to continue promoting these virtues and work as a force of peace and light in the world, touching their readers’ hearts and making a difference in their lives, no matter how small. The award has as its background a scene of a beach taken at sunset with holidaymakers enjoying themselves. This picture was taken by Barbara herself. Just as the Sun in the picture brings light and sustenance to the Earth and is the reason why any living thing can exist on our planet in the first place, the LITWA is a gift to those bloggers who help shine the light into other people’s worlds, giving them sustenance, hope and happiness through the venerable dialogue of blogging.”

I will always try to live up to this award.

The Empty Doorway

empty doorway 2_edited

It is the time of the greatest of sadness
The memories are still fresh and so raw
When the moment comes back to that tick of the clock
And the last time you walked in through that door.

One o’clock daily I will stare at the door
Begging it to open with you there
With your heart full of love that was sadly so frail
You’re now only a memory in this home that we’d share.

I touch one of your sweaters and smell your perfume
And my heart breaks as I think back to that night
When you told me you loved me and you would all your life
And you did, oh you did, now you’ve gone from my sight.

I still keep your diary by the side of the bed
I’ve decided not to open it for now
I think if it stays shut you’re perhaps still inside
I can deal with that, I think I know how.

It’s that time again now and I look at the door
Though I know that you’ll never come through
But I still have the memories of all that we shared
And they hold me together like you’d do.

When the clock ticks one now I stare at that door
I’ll stare at it till the day that I die
And by the time that they lay me into the earth
I’ll once again be there right by your side.


©Joe Wilson – The Empty Doorway 2014

A Magical Moment…and then it’s gone!

The World Crisis 2012 3

Within that magical moment
The world is at one and at ease
Everyone is loving their neighbour
And we have control of disease.

But it doesn’t last, it cannot last
It will all go back as before
To the dying from hunger and violence
To man’s unending desire for war.

One man plants a crop for food
But another man reaps the gain
The one making life from the profit
While another’s reward is just pain.

If a man is black, or yellow, who cares!
His blood like yours is red
The bullets or knives that pierce your skins
Would make you both as dead.

A man gets beaten in the street
His crime was being gay
Who gave those others the right to judge
Will prejudice never go away?

The ones with strength to dominate
Should nonetheless take heed
When they themselves are wanting help
Who’ll stay to fill that need.

I hear the ever-growing rains
They flood the town and field
Where hardship’s felt so gravely
Where man is forced to yield.

Perhaps we brought it on ourselves
We feel the need for so much
But there are so many with nothing
Who’d benefit from a gentle touch.

Back to that magical moment
It’s the one just before I awake
Where the next moment comes and it’s over
And it can’t be put right with a shake.


©Joe Wilson – A Magical Moment…and then it’s gone! 2014