In mortal pain…

On 7 Oct 20149 Oct 2014 By jovisgoesIn Anger, Armageddon, Belief, Betrayal, carelessness, Fate, Life, Poetry, Point of View, political, Regret, The World, WarLeave a comment

This land has been robbed of all that it had
Nothing is left, even for the slick and the rich
Crumbling edifices to our capitalist greed
Our world no capacity now left for its need.

There were those amongst us who fought agin this
Imprisoned in jails within our own tortured selves
Not enough of us tried to stop the horrors we saw
Now nothing is left, our charade is no more.

Your fathers all fought in such bloody campaigns
There fathers too, and there fathers before
New weapons of destructive powers previously unheard
That slaughtered the innocent in ways cruelly absurd.

Buildings left standing with all inside dead
People didn’t matter, but the real estate did
And thus the corruption swept over the Earth
We were judged by our value but not by our worth.

It angers me now as I feel guilty shame
For I didn’t do enough and that makes me as them
And for you with the mess whatever is left
There’s a world that was rich and is now so bereft.

One thing is certain, save the wealth of the land
The one crucial thing that we never did foresee
Don’t go down the pathway of war-like inventions
Create things for peace and for better intentions.

Think in these ways and you may stand a chance
It’s a message I couldn’t ever iterate to much
War and corruption lie together in bed
Growing good crops gets communities fed.

©Joe Wilson – In mortal pain…2014

to express oneself…

On 5 Oct 20145 Oct 2014 By jovisgoesIn expressing, Poetry, Writing2 Comments

Were I a man less fortunate
If I could not my words express
Would I not humbly shun the light
And all my boundless thoughts compress.

My heart is full and begs release
Outpourings flow from deep within
And words flood out and take their form
Of love and pain, and life and sin.

To sit and wait these countless times
Considering this or that to say
Thoughts writ in beguiling form
Thus written they then speed on their way.

Characters flit betwixt mine eyes
So fast sometimes I cannot catch
Letters caught in mêlée furious
I place them here or there to match.

When all these letters are thus laid down
In words to make some form or sense
Then read by one’s discerning eye
With open mind and no pretence.

Who reads these words I cannot know
But surely if when read they think
That thoughts they have become theirs now
Thus quill or pen make seamless link.

©Joe Wilson – to express oneself…2014

…nagging doubts…

On 3 Oct 2014 By jovisgoesIn Betrayal, Life, Love, PoetryLeave a comment

To be free of this nagging doubt
Oh to be free of this pain
I know that I’ll never miss her
I don’t want to see her again.

Why beat myself then I wonder
Could it be there is still a spark
She was cruel and she hurt me on purpose
And yet…

I don’t know now, I loved her so deeply
The days pass much slower now she’s gone
Even now I still can’t forget her
Till I do I’ll never move on.

If I go to our old haunts I’ll see her
I wonder if she’ll still be with him
I can’t bear to think of or to go there
But the chances I won’t are so slim.

I’ll just watch some telly and forget her
I’m sure there’s some pointless tat on
But the nagging doubts are driving me crazy
I give in, my coat’s already on…

©Joe Wilson – …nagging doubts…2014

The cruel hand of fate…

On 29 Sep 201429 Sep 2014 By jovisgoesIn Family, Fate, Friendship, Illness, Life, Loss, Personal, Poetry, Regret2 Comments

Things were very different in the Sixties
Everything was like new fresh breath
But this sad, true tale of my childhood
Is the tale of a friend’s early death.

Peter helped the Co-op grocers delivery-man
After he’d finished school for the day
He’d sit on an upturned milk crate
And they drove merrily along on their way.

He’d helped the man deliver for ages
It was what teenage boys would often do
But as the van took a corner in Rising Brook
Out to his sad fate Peter flew.

The van only had the single driver’s seat
No one else was supposed to be there
And the doors all slid back and stayed open
Safety wasn’t really thought about to be fair.

So out of the van my friend Peter flew
And fate treated him so very very cruel
He disappeared right under a passing bus
Right in front of the gates to his school.

My best friend was Harry, Peter’s brother
And for him everything changed on that day
I watched Harry wither before me
As his spirit of mischief flew away.

Just a few years later Harry drifted
I’ve not seen him from that day to now
But I hope he was able to find for himself
A way to survive the horror somehow.

I’ve not spoken of this since those dark days
and the flood of the memory is still raw
If only I could step back and warn him
My friend, please, please close the door.

By a sad twist of irony I lost my brother as well
He was struck down by the first ‘Asian Flu’
That memory hurts like a stab in the heart
I was twenty, he was just twenty-two.

©Joe Wilson – The cruel hand of fate…2014

Sadly, this is entirely true. Peter was killed falling under a bus in this manner and my brother was a recently married policeman who died of so-called ‘Asian Flu’ in 1970.

Just a boy…

On 18 Sep 2014 By jovisgoesIn Betrayal, Life, Poetry, Poverty, TerrorLeave a comment

It rained
It rained down on me
– and it wouldn’t stop!

The torrent of vicious blows just wouldn’t stop
They beat me
They beat me
They beat me

They wouldn’t stop

I was a boy…I was a child

Why wouldn’t they stop?

Mother!
Father!

Why have you abandoned me?

This is not what it says

This is not a home

This is my nightmare.

©Joe Wilson – Just a boy…2014

Life could be harsh in orphanages in the nineteen-fifties.
I’m ever grateful that I only heard of this and didn’t experience it myself.

In Transit

On 26 Aug 201426 Aug 2014 By jovisgoesIn Ethereal, Family, Life, Love, PoetryLeave a comment

He walked right into the wooden door
time seemed to stand so still
and then it was as if his life
was presented before him to be relived.

He first saw his beloved parents smiling
and Monty, the cocker spaniel he loved
he saw his grandfather with his snowy-white hair
then his brother stood beside him laughing
as a little boy again, at the gypsy who knocked
at the door and was trying to sell lucky white heather.

He saw his sister and her friend playing cards
in the parlour, and then his friends from school
throwing a rugby ball in his direction to catch.

Suddenly it rushed forward to his adult life
his wife, his children, the fun, and all the pain.

And then it stopped and he passed through the door

but

he never went home again.

©Joe Wilson – In Transit 2014

Tick tock…

On 13 Aug 2014 By jovisgoesIn Family, Illness, Loss, Love, Personal, Poetry, Terror2 Comments

Tick tock tick tock

Moments passed
Nothing.

Tick tock tick tock

No single thought could fill his mind other than the fact
that he was in his house alone, that and the fact
that he was having a heart attack and there was no phone.

Tick tock tick tock

The pain was unbearable but nothing like as bad
as the thought that filled his head at that moment
the thought of never seeing his beloved wife or children again.
The thought of never sharing a private moment before sleeping
and always seeming to be holding hands as they wake.

Tick tock tick tock

Please! Somebody please!!

I don’t believe in you, but please help me
I don’t believe in you, but please help me

If you are there please help me. Please!

Tick tick tick tock tick tick tick tock
Tick tick tick tock tick tick tick tock
Tick tick tick tock tick tick tick tock

Tick tick tick t

This is a familiar but fortunately infrequent feeling,
but with luck and good management I always have a phone with me.

Tender is the heart…

On 12 Aug 201413 Aug 2014 By jovisgoesIn Life, Loss, Love, Poetry, Regret, wisdomLeave a comment

Tender is the heart that breaks at night
when hurt will come and cause such ache
and sleep will never come to stop
the tears that fill the deep dark lake.

A kindly word could change things
but so rarely is it heard
it would show the pain is understood
but she never hears a word.

He lies there too in his own thoughts
not beginning to understand
they loved each so much one time
their life now is not as was planned.

But how very different it could have been
if only they had both spoken
it had only needed some kindness
and now both their hearts are broken.

Tender is the heart at night that loves
as it searches for its soul-mate
it needs to feel that it is cherished
before it suddenly gets too late.

Tender is the lonely heart
tender the lonely soul
pride can make you drift apart
but your heart will bear the toll.

Snap!

On 27 Jun 2014 By jovisgoesIn Anger, Loss, PoetryLeave a comment

Police officers investigate the site of a roller coaster accident in Suita, western Japan, Saturday, May 5, 2007. A roller coaster traveling up to 75 kilometers (46 miles) per hour hit a guardrail at an amusement park in western Japan on Saturday, killing one person and injuring 21 others, officials said. (AP Photo/Kyodo News) ** JAPAN OUT, NO SALES, MANDATORY CREDIT — Police officers investigate the site of a roller coaster accident in Suita, western Japan, Saturday, May 5, 2007. A roller coaster traveling up to 75 kilometers (46 miles) per hour hit a guardrail at an amusement park in western Japan on Saturday, killing one person and injuring 21 others, officials said. (AP Photo/Kyodo News) **

He was the sole survivor of a fairground ride disaster
and spent twenty-three months in hospital
– as they very carefully put him back together.
It had been such a lovely day for several friends
who had taken the ride, but when the bolts snapped
– they fell like dominoes on either side.

Only he survived, he’s full of anger, and weighed down with guilt
he’ll never walk again though, too much spinal fluid spilt
and though he recognises his Mum, he’ll never again speak her name
his larynx was crushed too in the fall and the new sound is not the same.

It takes so long but he taps each letter out on his new keyboard
then he blows in a cup and sound comes out through a strange cord
and although he doesn’t remember his voice sounding so tinny as this
it is a voice of sorts, and it just has to do he guesses.

He’s up to Jack and Jill books now as his Mum helps him learn to read
it’s sad to see her in such pain when her eyes look into his and plead
but the words are hard to grasp now and he always does his very best
yet he lived while others didn’t so some days he still feels blessed.

He hates it though when they wash him, a pretty nurse helps his Mum and when
– they wash him ‘down there’ he always wants to scream
he wishes that he could go to sleep and never wake again but then
– he feels the guilt and instead wishes he could wake to find it all a dream.