I wandered into a maelström
where the shouting turned to war
I wished them all a good day
cast a spell, they were no more.
Would that real life were so easy
that men of violence could be swayed
by a simple spell or by reason
enmity would remain un-displayed
To think of the peace we could all enjoy
at the nurturing of every child
all of the knowledge that could be spread
in a world where war was reviled.
©Joe Wilson – I still live in hope… 2014
Our journey is one that’s fraught with danger
In decisions oft our choices make us doubt
But right to our final breath and from the manger
Guidance from our parents should help us out.
Oft-times we think ourselves alone.
The pain we feel can break us into pieces
With wreckage of us strewn across the floor
A gathering sense of wrong creates the creases
Of a life that doesn’t want to breathe any more.
Oft-times we think ourselves alone.
Late at night when shadows begin their taunting
And the world will close itself behind locked doors
Is the time when sorrow begs the most affection
It’s always someone’s fault, even mine or yours.
Oft-times we really are alone.
©Joe Wilson – It shouldn’t be this way…2014
And the days were spent in wonder
at all the horrors He’d seen
He sent unholy flooding and chaos
To wash the planet clean.
To see if change was ever made
He waited then two thousand years
But horror still was all around
And what He saw proved all His fears.
Can man not recognise his fate
can he not see when he is wrong
can man not see of His design
that words like peace and love mean strong.
The fiery pits that destroy our Earth
aren’t in the depths of Hell
they’ll be the fire and cordite
of that last exploding shell!!
©Joe Wilson – Self-made Armageddon… 2014
A tiny tear falls from my eye
For each and every death
Another suicide bomb goes off
And snuffs out human breath.
They blow themselves for principles
That we don’t understand
If they are right —if we are right
It still means blood-stained land.
For pity’s sake each life that’s lost
Just hardens attitudes against
We have to talk to stop their deaths
And negotiate without constraints.
Each innocent life that gets destroyed
Is a wasted friend or lover
A murdered mother or father
Or a dead sister or brother.
This surely cannot go on forever…
©Joe Wilson – A tiny tear…2014
Whoever would fire a bullet?
I ask as I’m surely confused
Who on Earth would want to shatter
All that beauty that Nature has fused!
Who sits in a hide away from the light
Waiting for the deer to call
They don’t need the meat, that’s not the treat
It’s the head and the points on the wall!
Tribesmen in ‘less civilised’ countries
Might hunt down just such a deer
Then they pray for the soul of the slaughtered
For life-saving food from a beast they revere!
Not for them the revulsion of trophies
They only kill what they need
But in our ‘so civilised’ society
We can kill just for pleasure or greed.
There is something not right in society
Where solutions come from a gun
Weapons should be just for protection
They should never be used for such ‘fun’.
“Please do not be offended by my reference to a ‘less civilised’ society. I refer only to a lack of modernity and in actuality we are the far more crudely behaved frequently” Joe Wilson 2014
©Joe Wilson – The slaughtered… 2014
He died in a pool of disgust
after a lifetime of self-loathing
a life in which he had abused people
their trust, and even his own family’s good name.
He had been a terrible person by his own reckoning
and he was filled with remorse — but also self-pity.
It was thus that he found himself before his Maker
and he fully expected errors had been made in the direction
of his post-life travel arrangements.
His Maker looked at him and said,
“You are one sorry son,
and you’ve been a great disappointment.”
“I”, he spluttered.
“Interrupt me not, for I am not in the least finished.
You have stolen yet not hurt, you have hurt though not killed,
you have killed but only in the name of your country,
peace and negotiation and compromise seemingly beyond
the gift of human understanding.”
he heard him say,
for he was far too afraid to look upon his countenance.
“You have cursed and been ungodly
but you have cared for your old neighbour.
You have drunk to excess and yet have always
got to and done a days work.
Heaven only knows how sometimes.
You have had fights in the streets
though you have indeed tried to reform.
You have never listened to My Word
when I could have helped you and
it surely pained me to see you struggle.
You are one mixed-up man.”
He was agog as his sorry life was so
painfully listed before him, and
he was sorely afraid of his fate.
His Maker went on, “However,
you are basically a good man adrift.
somewhat confused and in a morass of self-doubt,
and I would not cast you down to my
Greater Disappointment below,
where you would surely not enjoy
— a single moment.
Get yourself in here lest I change my mind.
Do not think that this is the end of it, for
you have much to redeem yourself for
and my rooms are many.”
Without another word his Maker disappeared
and he was amidst a wondrous throng.
He felt completely enlightened and knew
he had been saved. His heart was so full
and he felt a goodness he’d never known.
He truly wished he could pass this feeling
on to those he had left behind and that
he could make up for his past wrong-doing.
“You will my boy,” he heard. “You will.”
©Joe Wilson – All that is… 2014
He had searched for ten long years
always hopeful of finding the reason.
The reason she’d been taken from him
and why he always felt so alone.
Till one day he came to realise
that the memory of the feelings he’d had
were far far better and happier
than anything he could possibly hope to find.
He stopped looking
he got on with his life
no longer searching for a memory
and went about life with a new and fresh look.
He’d survived, and now he’d be alright.
The hole was still there
but for now at least
it was shored up
and he was functioning.
We can hope for more
even beg for more.
We’re lucky when that ‘more’ happens.
©Joe Wilson – The emptiness… 2013
After the dark shall cometh the light
Exploded into by man’s devilish slight
To ruin the land and dominate all
The Earth falls into a deathly pall.
Sides will get taken along the way
The poor of learning will never get a say
The rich and clever will make the rules
History shows the poor are their tools.
A poor woman begs for work or bread
Her very rich neighbour kicks her in the head
And laws are passed to keep them down
And hidden from view on behalf of the crown.
Arguments start and war then breaks out
That guileless citizens know nothing about
But involved they become as their faith is then tested
Forced into arms for the thoughts they’ve invested.
Only a minority will claim they’re the proudest
But they have the guns and their voice is the loudest
We get swept along and get hurt on the way
Young children in war games with no time for play.
After the dark shall cometh the light
Exploded into by man’s devilish slight
He ruins the land and dominates all
As Earth now descends into it’s deathly pall.
©Joe Wilson – The inhumanity of it all… 2014
My tribute to others who fell in the First World War
They said they couldn’t kill another
a man a soldier might call a brother
but clearing death from sodden trenches
repairing trucks with rusty wrenches.
These men did their bit too.
Many a shot mowed these men down
in trenches filled with awful sound
they fell and died, their blood as red
and in the end were still as dead.
These men did their bit too.
Some men can’t fight no matter what
so other work was what they got
and midst the cordite battle smell
they picked dead comrades as they fell.
These men did their bit too.
Four long years the battles raged
by Armistice young men had aged
so many young men had sadly died
pacifist stretcher men by their side.
These men did their bit too.
Pacifists choose simply not to kill
Clearing bodies became their great skill
patching up wounded and moving them back
under the vilest of mortar attack.
These men did their bit too.
Soldiers died that we might live
reconcile now and forgive
peaceful men did also die
honour them too where they do lie.
These men did their bit too.
©Joe Wilson – They also served… 2014
It rains
All of my sins
Are washed
–away!
No one will come
There is no witness
This life will cease
The rain continues.
I’ve been so careful
I’ve been discreet
The rains now run red
Out into the street.
The blade in the gutter
The wrists opened wide
The red rains flow freely
I’m empty inside.
It is over now.
©Joe Wilson – The red rains…2014
Jovis on a Journey... 