The pointlessness of it…

 

The haunting refrain of the old church bell
Was at odds to the din being made down below
Yet its purity of sound soon got lost in the wind
As the now late old sinner lost his blood in the snow.

He was just a street man with no one to care
His life had been ruined by cheap booze and drugs
And he now lay all stiff and so cold in the dark
This soul had been kicked at and stabbed by young thugs.

The police had been called and the Sarge shook her head
At the waste and how savage was such crime
As yet another soul had departed this life
And for what! There’s no reason or rhyme.

Yet still the sound of the haunting old bell
Echoes forlornly o’er the quiet dark town
And the chances of finding those guilty this time
So unlikely as police numbers keep going down.

Totally unmissed
No one to care
Dead on a corner
Utter despair!

©Joe Wilson – The pointlessness of it…2019

That which is important…

Low expectations
On a miserable day
Lost his position
They’ve been made to pay.
His company’s folly
Expansion they’d said
The deal though, fell through
Now the jobs are all dead.

It was then that he saw them
Playing around in the park
A mother and her child
Just having a lark
It brightened his day
Well how could it not
Making him thankful
For all that he’d got.

He walked over to them
Got into their space
The woman turned to him
Got into his face
Put her hands on his shoulders
And melted his heart
For she was his wife
His most important part.

The day just got better
Not so miserable now
There was other employment
He’d find it somehow.
But family was precious
To him it was all
And he’d never leave them
They made him feel tall.

©Joe Wilson – That which is important…2019

That old time democracy…

 

…and in the crossfire
Of ye and nay
The country
Finally had its say
And yet the hopes
And fears of many
Were tossed aside
Like one bad penny.
For if you voted
For to stay
You might just feel
Where was your say
And if you voted
For to go
You’re waiting still
How long, who’d know?

Talks go on
But can’t disguise
MPs have failed
Before our eyes.
And following in
The aftermath
It’s far too serious
To laugh
There’s not a one
Who’s worth our vote
Democracy
It seems — is smote.

©Joe Wilson – That old time democracy…2019

Truth can break us…

 

Where didst thou go oh callow youth
Whence ignorance hid from you such truth
But yet as adult one now canst see
That truth and pain keep company.
Miserable, broken, heart askew
Savaged by what it knows was true
Unable now to love once more
Wouldst never have known had it not saw.

Tis said that ignorance is bliss
Methinks it did refer to this
For who can bear a broken heart
Where knowing truth drives souls apart
Innocence gone, now all alone
For truth had dug right to the bone.

©Joe Wilson – Truth can break us…2019

One week on…

I write this with a heavy heart, one week on from such a terrible event. I have a deep affection for New Zealand, our son lived there for twenty years with his New Zealander wife. My wife and I thought it to be the safest and nicest place of all. We must be positive, it still is. I hope I haven’t offended anyone.

Black the eyes that stared back so cold
The finality of death had robbed their life
There was no other presence in that space to see
No future of things that were meant to be.

Robbed of life by an evil hand and heart
At prayer in a mosque that should be so safe
So wicked the man, so heartless the crime
No name to be uttered for the rest of time.

Lock him away, lock him away, lose the key
For he shouldn’t see ever the light of day
How could one be so be so vicious, cruel and vile
Who would steal away another’s smile.

©Joe Wilson – One week on…2019

untitled…

He collected his thoughts
There were not now so many
He looked for solutions
But sadly —— there weren’t any.
And while he was thinking
More innocents were dying
As mothers of children
Were collectively crying.

Nowhere is the statesman
Amidst the great thrall
Who’ll stand and be counted
For his voice is too small.
And the nurses and doctors
Work among the disaster
Yet all they can do
Is be as sticking plaster.

The world had gone mad
We had all lost the point
But there was no Saviour
No one now to anoint.

©Joe Wilson – untitled…2019

Love!
The duct tape of life.
Both indispensable
Each can become unstuck.

And yet!

When positioned properly
And joined perfectly
It, they, will stay tight
And sealed forever.

Such is the nature of things.

©Joe Wilson – The duct tape of life…2019