Something isn’t right…

Muddy waters
By teeming rains
Runs off plastic tunnels
To fill country drains.
Overflows them
Runs to stream
Spoiling water
For Chub and Bream.
But we want fruit
And all year round
So much harm
Done to the ground.
Seasonal choices just don’t suit
In Mother Nature we stuck the boot!

We’re saving air-miles
Sponsors shout
Picked fruit in season
Makes air-miles nowt.

For we now live
A life of plenty
We pick and choose
One fruit or twenty.
Yet even here
And now – give thanks
A growing throng
Must use food banks.

We have to learn
To share our wealth
For poverty creeps
In quiet stealth.

©Joe Wilson – Something isn’t right…2017

Violent consequences…

On a day like today
On just such a day
Happiness was ripped right from her
Her life was never to be the same
He’d cruelly, viciously raped her
All part of his violent game.

Tossed out now, she felt so ashamed
Her life now would always be framed
For she was his latest victim
And forever she would always be
She walked now in the shadows
So no one but no one could see.

Yet why was it she who was chosen
On that her thoughts were just frozen
For what had she done that was wrong
She’d just taken a foolish chance
She was lonely and she’d wanted romance
Now her heart would never again dance.

The pills they now beckoned
At least twenty she reckoned
As she now slipped to endless sleep
A victim of that man
Her secret she’d keep
He’d just carry on with is violent plan.

©Joe Wilson – Violent consequences…2017

No woman on Earth should suffer so…

Mercy Street 3…

He hobbled along in staggering pain

He’d seen the look of the man’s disdain

With the stroke of a pen

His benefit was stopped

So he walked past the store

Where he once would have shopped.

The simple truth was

He couldn’t find work

It wasn’t that he

Was trying to shirk.

Yet the fact

He’d lost one leg

Wasn’t reason enough

He couldn’t just yet

Bring himself down to beg.

And his skill levels weren’t

Really up to the snuff

So he’d wanted the money

While he studied such stuff.

But life is a minefield

For the slow and the weak

Where young men look down

As if you’ve got a cheek

And they don’t count their blessings

‘cause they’ve got a job

As they look at the new lost

Like they were a slob.

So once more he hobbled

To get Citizen’s Advice

Lost pride for the visit

A hard to bear price.

For nothing is free

There’s no pre-paid lunch

And that swift and sure


Is a hard


And just as surely, the long days draw out into weeks, and the poor and needy start to lose hope in a society where just getting seen on television seems to guarantee a future kind of stardom and wealth.

He wanted to vomit, ironically he was now so emaciated he couldn’t.

He’d started to cough up some blood quite recently

Into a tissue or a cloth quite decently

But for him it seemed there was no one to care

As slowly obscurity pulled him to its lair.

©Joe Wilson – Mercy Street 3…2017

The Ignorance of Man…

salvador dali the face of war
The Face of War – Salvador Dali

I’ve ridden the great beast of ignorance
Naivety always sped me on my way
And all around was bitter suffering
Whilst in my idiocy I never dared to stay.
And woe, I saw a hundred men
And yet a hundred more
As turned they into blood and pain
The fodder to political war.
Behind a wall I hid in my fear
Or lay I in caves so dark
As man lost all humanity
While of compassion there was no spark.
For what is war but filth and grime
And death for those who’ve done no crime
Whilst yet the maker of war tools
Sees profits rise from deaths of fools.
Yet when man cries, ‘no more, no more’
Perverse they turn on him and cry
As cruel events repeat themselves
More people have to fall and die.

©Joe Wilson – The Ignorance of Man…2017



I’ve stepped through that portal
And gone back in my time
So painful the memories
Unrelenting the rhyme.
At the start of the Sixties
My friend’s brother caused a fuss
He fell out of a van
And fell under a bus.
Yet each of his family
Got on with their life
It didn’t do for poor folks
To dwell much on strife.
It was around the same time
That I lost my Dad too
Then later a brother
Then another one too.
But you got on with things
What else could you do
It was simply the way
That the colder winds blew.
Yet despite that
Everything wasn’t so bad
Many times
I was exceptionally glad
Of the family I had
And the friends that I made
And the sport, ah! The rugby
I so often played.
Then later a family I had of my own
Filling our lives with such joy
How happy we were as our own family grew
Even being quite poor just couldn’t annoy.
Yet pain then caught up
And destroyed a young life
And in its foul wake
It near took my wife
But we all fought together
We’d not let it win
We’ve now brought her home
Though she’s painfully thin.
Of course! There are portals
Which take me elsewhere
Sometimes to places
Where I haven’t a care
Yet the family portal
I’m drawn to the most
As the love that I feel there
Always keeps me on post.

©Joe Wilson – Portals…2017


Older now
So very much older
A year that felt like a decade
And yet like a minute too.
And in that time
We have aged
So very much
Our eyes are that much
Hearing becomes a strain
All the surrounding bustle
Just sounds like so much rain
And in days of mist
Yet even as the sun shines
‘I was so proud to know her.’
In my head, repeated lines.
It will get a little better
I often hear them say
I wonder if it will at all
If I’ll live to see that day.

©Joe Wilson – untitled…2017

On the hustings, yeah!…



It’s raining
Up go the umbrellas
But of course
It’s that time

Red roses and torches
Lesser party signs too
Adorning umbrellas
It’s what parties do.

Then out come the megaphones
That will distort the voices
Of the oily deceivers
Who tell you your choices.

Yet, mostly I fear
Right from the first line
That all we will hear
Is excreta bovine!

Vote with your conscience
Vote what you think
The outcome’s the same
For us, it will stink!!

©Joe Wilson – On the hustings, yeah!…2017