The tear-soaked mud…


How long the furrow that man must plough
How deep the mud so filled with dread
How sad the tears that fall to earth
Now mud that takes us when we’re dead.

And all along, and all along
The good man keeps his godly faith
But sad the man who feels so sinned
That he might rise as driven wraith.

And all those souls of bloodied gristle
Who smite the sinned by means so foul
Will feel the pain and share the fate
As when they fall the wraith will howl.

And when the good man falls to sin
As feet of clay oft make him do
The tear-soaked mud now draws him down
He’s now sin-free, yet what of you!

And all along, and all along
The furrow stays yet still to plough
For sinners yet to make their mark
A simple matter of when…and how.

©Joe Wilson – The tear-soaked mud…2016

Who are we – we are one…

The ticking of the clock marks the moments
Since the last breath you took on this Earth
The seconds tick away just like teardrops
As you’re replaced by a much-wanted birth.
And on yet it moves, the cycle of life
Never-ending since the dawning of time
Yet what are we worth who slaughter so
Our such violent nature has no rhyme.

For what are we really, this so savage race
Who would trample down others without thought
Who would take to our weapons in a moment
When more peaceful solutions should be sought.
And yet – there are those with the patience of Job
Who’ve committed to peace all their days
Who would give up their life for another
We are humans with such complex ways.

So many are killing one another
It matters not the colour of the dead
For when you look at the bodies that lie slaughtered
You’ll notice the blood is all red.
And when families all gather to mourn loved ones
In the church of their faith amidst fears
The dead were all once of the one human race
And we all cry the same sad wet tears.

©Joe Wilson – Who are we – we are one…2016

Locked-in here


he could see the nurses moving round
as they fussed about his bed
he could hear each word they spoke of him
as if he was already dead
and yet they knew he was alive
or why would he still be there
he’d already be burnt to ash and dust
and been stuck on a mantle somewhere.

it was odd the way that it started
he was walking home from work one day
his legs just started to feel very strange
then he collapsed as they both fell away.

he was rushed to the emergency hospital 
where his condition had got better each day
but suddenly he went into a spasm
that ended with him lying here today.

locked-in syndrome he heard one doctor
say to a colleague talking over his bed
and while they were wondering about him
he silently screamed in his head.

all the things they were saying were scaring
and he couldn’t tell them what he knew
he felt lost and alone and so frightened
but about it there was nothing he could do.

he’s been lying like that for six months now
they’ve assisted his breathing as well
but they don’t chat as if he’s not there though
and to him that now feels worse than hell.

he stopped breathing


they started his breathing this morning
but they’re worried that he’s getting frail
and inside his head he’s still screaming
and weeping though no-one can tell.


©Joe Wilson – Locked-in here 2014

A Bad Man But a Father

It was a solemn affair
The funeral
Everyone who’d ever known him
Was there
Some even liked him a little
But most
Had just come to make sure
He was dead.

Amongst these folk a little arm
Reached up
To hold a grown-ups hand
His lad
His eyes squeezed tight, so tight
Lest he cry
To him at least he’d been
Just Dad
To this young boy the man had been
His Hero
Criminal in life the man had left behind
The Innocent.
Only time would tell if that would
Remain the case.