I was never one to complain – like hell, I complain about all kinds of everything
Nonetheless I had never for a moment thought that I would be the one chosen to go
To travel that far with no guarantee I could ever come home
To live with the knowledge that we might lose everything I valued
But it was a risk I knew that one day I would take, a choice that one day I knew I’d make.
But Mars! This was gonna be one hell of a journey
One we’d trained for for years, one we’d hoped for all our lives
But way back then none of us had children and wives.
Blast off successful and we were heading up at thousands of feet a second
No going back now. Goddamn it, it was better than all the pot he’d ever smoked
But it was serious stuff, despite all of this and that that they joked.
But then when he thought about it he realised the nonsense of it all
We can’t even look after the planet that we live on
What right have we to go and probably destroy another one!!!
The spell was broken – he woke up. It was just a dream.
Though willing hands are always there To feed her, dress her, and brush her hair Disease has crept through her with stealth Some things just can’t be stopped with wealth.
The frailty was quite slow at first She couldn’t fasten her shoes at worst But then it weakened her gentle heart And eventually it tore her life apart.
And though she prayed with all her might She started soon to lose her sight She fell down often and broke her hip And life began to fade and slip.
In time she couldn’t leave her bed And dreamed her dreams of Christ instead For she well knew he’d suffered worse Than her small Earthly painful curse.
Now in her mind in fear she weeps Her life but spent in fitful sleeps She waits in hope for His Holy hand To lead her to the Promised Land.
He sits cross-legged with fingers poised His needle threaded with fine silken cord As a bright new pattern takes over all thought He starts a new coat very soon to be bought.
In each and every coat that he’s made A customer’s future has been finely inlaid For the tailor is also a very wise man And he makes people happier whenever he can.
This maker of scarves and coats of all sizes Won praise from the King, who gave him nice prizes The new coat he’s making is for the King’s son And he’ll sew in much wisdom and lots of good fun.
When the day comes that the boy takes the throne He’ll be filled with such wisdom as never he’s known The tailor talks not of such things, he won’t tell He just smiles to himself to see all that is well.
They don’t look too dangerous do they?His large toolbox fell with a crash from the car Spanners and wrenches and nails spread afar But he gathered them all as best as he could And piled them back into the boot as you would Then he started the engine and set off down the road Feeling quite weary from the day’s heavy load.
It hadn’t occurred to him to look under his car He was tired and his journey was really quite far But a large six-inch nail had got caught in the tar And it punctured a tyre in a fast moving car. The driver of that was too reckless that day And the speed he was going was so fast they now say.
The car made a lurch and spun out of control Then it veered to one side as it started to roll It spun as it rolled and hit the side of a coach The glass in the sides smashed like a cheap five-bob broach But the damage was done and some passengers fell down Right into the path of the car spinning round.
It scythed through their legs in a horrible way The sounds of the screaming just wouldn’t go away And six folk lost their lives as the carnage went on Imagination strained it was something beyond The driver of course he was one of the dead As the car wrapped around him and damaged his head.
The other man arrived at the end of his trip Grabbed his box from the boot with a casual grip And set about the job he’d come to here for But could only find three six-inch nails now, not four He was sure that he’d purposely put four of them in He’d just have to go back and get another again.
Joe Wilson – Carelessness…2014
Many years ago I witnessed a similar accident to this. As with most accidents it didn’t need to happen.
King Edward VI Grammar School, Stafford. My old school.We were just a bunch of teenage boys Who’d grown up playing with Dinky toys Who now sat in this Master’s class Exams upcoming we had to pass.
With Fowler’s Usage in his hand He strode amongst our hapless band And taught us all of composition And how to use a preposition.
He always wore a teacher’s gown That seemed to match his careworn frown With his long chin we called him Drac While flirting ink-bombs at his back.
His language classes were of renown And in them none would play the clown He made it ever seem such fun Including always everyone.
He also taught us English Lit The class that was my favourite bit Though as most favoured Shakespearean pickings My personal choice was always Dickens.
While Edward Lear wrote tales of Nonsense Charles Dickens had a social conscience Writing tales of deprivation Still he entertained the nation.
Our Master taught me all of this And lost in books I am in bliss And I thank Tom Davis for it was he Who opened my eyes and set me free.
Walking along on the shingle spit At Keyhaven near to Milford on Sea You can almost touch the Isle of Wight Less than a mile away o’er the lea.
Crab-fishing next at Mudeford Quay With Lizzie and Sam on the nets When off flies my hat which then lands in the sea Chase is given but I’m taking no bets.
Later, me new-hatted, we sit by a pub Enjoying our lunch and a chat And we laugh at the turn of events in the day Particularly at the flight of my hat.
Wearily later to our lodgings we go Chicken Cacciatore for dinner, by me We then all collapse and nod off to sleep This just always will happen by the sea.
His now withered hand hardly moved and yet I still knew what he meant but it hurt me so to see my Dad once a man so powerfully strong be brought down by a bad heart and by arthritis and so cruelly bent.
His last eleven years were all in pain it was plain for all to see he worked all through the second vile war sometimes in long eighteen-hour shifts but he died at only fifty-two in front of my siblings and me.
I will never know how my dear Mum coped there were six of us to raise and though she struggled, oh how she struggled she fed and clothed us by means It was only much later as an adult that I understood and looked back in praise.
I took a walk with you that day Ere long you gave to me your heart I gave you mine in love and hope And now we’ll never grow apart.
Storm clouds do come and then they go We move along within the flow And when the sun comes out to shine We’re out there too and moving slow.
We’ve eased along throughout the years You’ve sometimes chased the fears from me And I in turn have dried your tears In love that’s how it’s meant to be.
But what a journey, what a ride you are my muse and my best friend Those epic times, you by my side I’d do every bit with you again.
Jovis on a Journey... 