An ill-fated journey…

 

cross_on_observation_hill_mcmurdo_station
The Observation Hill Cross, erected in 1913 as a memorial to Scott and his party.

O God, it is so harsh and very cold
But onward and driven, we must go
Our journey South so frighteningly bold
To reach a Pole where nought will grow,

Rations frozen, now frostbitten fingers
Fallen canines reluctantly eaten
And feet unfelt where pain just lingers
We battle on, we cannot be beaten.

But yet we lost, Amundsen beat us
We’ll leave a mark to say we arrived
There was no cheer, nor slightest fuss
A bitter taste for those deprived.

So few of us remain, a smaller fire will burn
Captain Oates stepped out last night, so gallant
He said he would just be awhile, but didn’t return
Such men have been my comrades, such talent.

Heroes all, this unfortunate company of gallant men
Edward Wilson, Edgar Evans, and Henry Bowers
Their strength of character I’ve known not when
Each one above the norm now towers.

And yet now here, failed, and trying to reach our shore
I feel our journey now will end, we are so feeble
“It seems a pity, but I do not think I can write more
R. Scott — for God’s sake, look after our people.”

©Joe Wilson – An ill-fated journey…2016

Robert Falcon Scott made it to the South Pole,
though he was beaten there by Roald Amundsen.
He and his men died on the way home
just eleven miles from food supplies.

Olympian choices…

zeus

 

Aches the heart which beats so fast
Blood on fire as round it speeds
Blows the tape through which you race
Adrenaline powers mental feeds.

Honour, victory, move you forward
Cheating drugs not through your veins
Raise the bar and mighty voices
Cheer you on to ease the pains.

Once again Olympian choices
Whether to cheat or play it fair
It’s up to you for you have trained
As history notes what you did there.

Mighty women, mighty men
Take to the track and field
Through the pool the swimmers glide
As fight they all for gold to wield.

Zeus looks down from Mount Olympus
Sees the spectacle unfold
Runners all line up to start
Marathons are for the bold.

Then once again the thing is over
Moves once more the mighty show
Four more years and off again
As reputations come and go.

©Joe Wilson – Olympian choices…2016

In dreams, serene…

In dreams I come to join you
Our hearts and arms entwined
Each night it will remain the same
Never the more to be refined.

And when I wake to sadness
Alone, I am in pain
I cannot wait to sleep once more
To dream with you again.

My aching heart lies broken
Alone forever I’ll trudge
Tragic misunderstanding
Then hardened into grudge.

O foolish pride keeps us apart
Beloved, now cast adrift
The jealousy of callow youth
That blinds us from the gift.

We should have run so far away
Had merry blacksmith join we two
But honour stood betwixt us
And distance slowly grew.

And thus we both remain alone
Our love can never be
We meet alone in dreams, serene
And pray that dawn won’t set us free.

©Joe Wilson – In dreams, serene…2015

A depressive state – but not as we know it…

Anger rises, an outlet sought
A kind of peace not easy bought
It never used to be like this
The signs of cracks and things amiss
Can send us down the dark hallways
That lead to melancholy days.

Of pain and heartache on both sides
Who ever thought there were free rides?
We have to stand and keep our nerve
And fight for principles we serve
Of honour, love and dignity
And once again, our hearts set free.

Sacrifices must be made
A bright future, a good fair trade.

©Joe Wilson – A depressive state – but not as we know it…2015

A son’s tale…

Unknown origin
Unknown origin

Hal drew his sword from it’s long sheath
and faced his nemesis on this dark heath
and fought for life and fought till death
his enemy taking his last foul breath.

Long times this family feud had raged
and in its wake young men had aged
for now the devil would breathe no more
till others rose to settle the score.

Returned he then to his peaceful life
sharing in joy with his new young wife
and she did bear him fine young sons
he hoped his violent past was gone.

But the devil will often find ways back
and thus with time came a new attack
so Hal’s son drew his father’s sword
this ancient duel his family reward.

The feud had lasted for ere so long
kinsfolk recalled it oft in song
of troubles over betrayals done
and deathly duels betwixt each first son.

And then one day Hal’s nemesis fell
and hurt them-self as he could tell
he lowered his sword and approached his foe
removing helmet let long hair flow.

This time it seemed there was no heir
but duty fell to the eldest there
and so the woman had taken up sword
for she too felt her kin’s reward.

But Hal had fallen deep in love
so swore that he’d not raise a glove
and she too felt her heart was won
the betrayal forgotten they were as one.

©Joe Wilson – A son’s tale…
This was just a story set in medieval England
where unimaginatively all first sons are called Hal.
I’ve tried to write it in that kind of style.

The Choice

right way wrong way

The ever reducing spiral of the mind winds tighter,
tighter like a coil wrapped round a wiring loom
Until the tension causes it to snap, and
within the consciousness of man all hell breaks loose
And one will paint the finest representation of life,
while yet another will turn to the gun and kill
Thus exposing and exploding the myth and proving
man’s control of his own destiny, and his right to choose.

Path thus chosen will your life be that of the artist
who struggles to create and entertain and educate
Or will you choose the more deadly path
of violence and easy money and unlawfully acquired gain
Will you be a man of whom your parents
would one day be proud and say he always did his best
Or will you be the man who spends his every waking moment
serving out to others some ill-deserved pain.

You are a full-grown man now, you have to make a choice,
and that will show which way you choose to walk in life
Will you walk a wise man’s path working hard the honest way
and will you make your mark with pride
Or choose the darker path of distrust and deceit
and thus dishonour all who gave you help along the way
A path that causes those who cared far more for you
than you for them, to take the choice from you to hide.

These things of good and bad you now must choose about,
but take this thought with you to your heart
The path is not chosen for you, free-will,
remember, it’s yours and yours alone
So consider this when you ponder, it’s a choice
you may come to regret, if you choose the lawless way
And if you live that life, you must take into account,
the fact that you may just simply die on your own.

 

©Joe Wilson – The Choice 2014