Were they the good old days…

It was quite a walk down the High Street, situated as it was on the hill. You could really struggle to keep your step and not land in the race at the Old Water Mill. But on summer days it was so very fine, it was the place that we all longed to be. Weaving in and out of the tourists, from countries as far away as could be.

Old Mr Castle kept the toy shop, it was so crammed full with such amazing toys. There was a train which he ran all day long, which kept the attention of all us young boys. There were knights and soldiers and pirates, and there were Dinky cars of every single sort. But though thousands of children passed through his shop, Mr Castle closed down as so little was bought.

It was like that in those days so very long ago, such wonders to amaze and astound. But it wasn’t that long after the Second World War, and it wasn’t on toys that parents spent their pound. But we ran and we played and we had great fun. We also had bikes or we walked. People grew spuds in their garden back then, and we listened to the radio or talked.

Then one day my Dad died and it all fell to bits. It wasn’t such fun playing after that. On the day of his funeral he was put in the front room, while I sat on the stairs with his old trilby hat. Mum never remarried and she struggled, there were six of us each needing care. And somehow a few of us have made it. But not all, which brings me despair.

The good old days is only an expression. They were happy but also quite sad. And for some folks they were pretty awful, so I guess mine were not all that bad. When people look back and remember, it’s not nostalgia is my firm belief. For those days were filled with trepidation, and to have made it is such a relief.

©Joe Wilson – Were they the good old days…2016

Lauds…(the 5th morning)

A sparrowhawk swoops down for food
Spring blue skies will lift the mood
When days go rushing by.

Children race to school pell-mell
There are some who miss the bell
When days go rushing by.

Spring blue skies will lift the mood
And garden tasks are now pursued
When days go rushing by.

There are some who miss the bell
Who’ll waste time catching up as well
When days go rushing by.

And garden tasks are now pursued
The growing season is reviewed
When days go rushing by.

For He will hear the church bell ring
As hearty, thankful voices sing
When days go rushing by.

The growing season is reviewed
A sparrowhawk swoops down for food.
When days go rushing by.

©Joe Wilson – Lauds…(the 5th morning)…2016

The bullets that put us all to bed…

Among the still wet bloodied bones, the wild dogs pick their way. Chewing at various body parts, they say dogs have their day. And though we feel revulsion at such raw canine behaviour, no one halts the tide of death, in war there is no Saviour.

Many voices raised in shock at photographs like this, while sitting in our nice warm homes, these things give us a miss. Elect the voice of reason and still he goes to war, ‘cause money’s made in killing and politics is a whore.

And so more factories are built and rise up to the sky, they’re making newer weapons, finding different ways to die. Yet people have to have jobs so work amongst this gloom. They never stop to think that, they’re the authors of their own doom.

©Joe Wilson – The bullets that put us all to bed…2016

Lauds…(the 4th morning)

Spring sunshine, wondrous, here at last
Our gloomy outlook we now cast
In gratitude, give thanks.

As new young life now pushes through
In life as always, much to do
In gratitude, give thanks.

Our gloomy outlook we now cast
Are days of Winter now just past
In gratitude, give thanks.

In life as always, much to do
Lord, hear such praise they give to You
In gratitude, give thanks.

Are days of Winter now just past
As soon we shall give thanks, and fast
In gratitude, give thanks.

The delicate balance of Springtime flowers
That one could just enjoy for hours
In gratitude, give thanks.

As soon we shall give thanks, and fast
Spring sunshine, wondrous, here at last
In gratitude, give thanks.

©Joe Wilson – Lauds…(the 4th morning)…2016

Bang…

Monsters, driven by my friend Jim Beam
Soon return, and force my scream
Feelings of inadequacy reign
Am I really slipping back again
Or did I make good my escape
From when my soul was seen midst gape
At all the pain that I was given
That left my heart so feelings driven
So even now I search release
Yet nightly I can find no peace
The Glock must now go in my mouth
My life has gone completely south…

BANG!!!!

©Joe Wilson – Bang…2016

Lauds…(the 3rd morning)

Etched deep in human nature found
Is not the plight of others bound
In loneliness, they cry out.

Fallen by the way, so many
Whose lives could change with love, if any
In loneliness, they cry out.

Is not the plight of others found
In depths so low there is no sound
In loneliness, they cry out.

Whose lives could change with love, if any
Caught in cultural hegemony
In loneliness, they cry out.

In depths so low there is no sound
Trampled far beneath the ground
In loneliness, they cry out.

And God, who is their single friend
Such failings He must ever end
In loneliness, they cry out.

Trampled far beneath the ground
Etched deep in human nature found
In loneliness, they cry out.

©Joe Wilson – Lauds…(the 3rd morning)…2016

Me…(Aku) a tribute to Chairil Anwar (1922-1949)

If this is it
Then so shall it be
Such is final.

Leave it as it is.

I am but a swine
Cast out by my own.

Even in the heat of pain
I will regroup and fight.

The slash of swords I will withstand
Withstand.

Until such time as it is no more.

And then, who cares
I want to live.

©Joe Wilson – Me…(Aku) a tribute to Chairil Anwar (1922-1949)

This fine Indonesian poet died the year I was born.
Most of his work was censored.