Tag: thoughts

Ticks…

On By jovisgoesIn Clock, Dreams, Fear, Illness, Life, PoetryLeave a comment

The clock ticks on
Life moves forward a notch
And we as fools survive
In self-absorbing  hotchpotch.

 

The clock ticks on
And failings and success compete
For space within our cluttered lives
The world no longer, is at our feet.
 

The clock ticks on
And wrinkles start to show
Our footing slips on the ladder of life
And aging pains begin to grow.
 

The clock ticks on
Our hearts begin to race and flutter
Our memories lose a thread or two
And we start to mumble and mutter.
 

The clock ticks on
And she or he forgets our name
We know the truth of dementia well
Our parents went through this the same.
 

The clock ticks on
And one of us will disappear
The other left to fend for themselves
In a life now filled with fear.
 

The clock ticks on
And on
And on
And on………

 

©Joe Wilson – Ticks…2015

The Fall…

On By jovisgoesIn Accidents, Children, Family, Father, Fear, Illness, Life, Loss, Love, Poetry, Regret, TimeLeave a comment

I fell from the top of a tall block of apartments.

How I remember my children growing
and the never-ending beauty of my wife
my boy and my girl, so full of knowing
my darling, the centre of my humble life.

But the ground rushes up at me as I fly down so fast.

I’ve loved the same woman for all of my time
contented and happy and passionate are we
I remember the night full of vodka and lime
when I asked my love if she would marry me.

And still the ground races up at me…

What joy we have had on our long journey here
with some pains that we’ve shared and endured
sadness has crept in and occasional fear
but we beat it all back and we still feel assured.

I hit the ground — there is nowhere else to go…

Did I make it…did I not?
Was it a dream…was it not?

©The Executor acting for Joe Wilson – The Fall…2015

The numbers rise…

On By jovisgoesIn Belief, Corruption, Faith, Life, Loss, Pacifism, Poetry, political, Regret, so-called civilised, War1 Comment

Walked I along this Autumn morn
midst trees with bright red berries borne
where once men stood with with tanks as shields
on Europe’s bloodiest battlefields.

And in extraordinary Worldly War
friends kill friends who’re friends no more
as lines are drawn and power revealed
where once such things had lain concealed.

How many men and women died
for pious thoughts and national pride
whose wasted lives now lie beneath
that trampled o’er when we cross heath.

The bodies fall, the numbers rise
more victims of political lies
and yet some people still would fight
convinced that they are in the right.

Twas ever thus and shall remain
the populace feel power’s disdain
yet even now we fight their wars
with they as pimps and we their whores.

©Joe Wilson – The numbers rise…2015

It isn’t ours…

On By jovisgoesIn Homo-sapien, Life, Nature, Poetry, Point of View, Survival, The World, Time, vital, wisdomLeave a comment

Has man ever really stopped and looked
at all the beauty that Nature has cooked
arrayed throughout the world to see
by stumbling humans like you and me.

Deserts filled with shifting sand
moved by winds and Nature’s hand
creating dunes of epic scale
compared to this we are so frail.

Rill and brook, stream and creek
all a river’s end they seek
as they head for oceans wide
moving always with the tide.

Filled with fish of every size
sometimes caught for dinner’s prize
and on their trek it’s life or death
they struggle on for every breath.

Through the forests these rivers flow
passing trees whose names we know
they’re the lifeblood of our world
new breath with every leaf unfurled.

Too often though we cut them down
turning green land into brown
and yet somehow there are still flowers
grown by Nature’s greater powers.

They brighten days in glorious hues
so many colours, too many to choose
in meadows watered by rivers’ flow
past those trees whose names we know.

And on to seas with sharks and whales
the mighty Blues with their giant tails
whose flukes are wider than football fields
what majestic beauty the ocean yields.

To care for our planet we would do well
it’s a living thing not just a shell
it isn’t ours to destroy and maim
it’s future health should be our aim.

©Joe Wilson – It isn’t ours…2015

The unseen journey…

On By jovisgoesIn Homo-sapien, Life, Nature, PoetryLeave a comment

Messages carried along
meandering lanes
without conscious input
by electronic impulses are
speeding across the sinews,
through the blood avenues
and down the back alleys
to our feet, on the footpath
of life
telling us
that pressing on
is the only

way

forward.

Meanwhile telegrams
travel to the very edges
of our arterial network
sending instructions
to our shoulders
and on
to our arms and hands
to move in beautiful unison
with our feet
thus
allowing us
to set out
using
our form of

propulsion.

And so we amble on
blissfully unaware
of the arduous tasks
our body will carry out
every second
of every day

for

all

of

our lives.

©Joe Wilson – The unseen journey…2015

And as I wander…

On By jovisgoesIn Family, Life, Love, muse, old age, Personal, Poetry, TimeLeave a comment

…and as I wandered through my mind
cluttered with memories of every kind
I smiled whenever I thought of you
the things we shared,
the love that grew.

…but time has caught us up at last
those memories all are in the past
yet still I smile at thoughts of you
loving our children
as they both grew.

…and when you ail I cannot bear
your being in pain that I can’t pare
yet as you smile to guide me through
I’d not survive
had I not you.

…as we’ve grown older our love remains
passionate as ever despite life’s strains
love is the greatest gift twixt two
I found life’s gift
when I found you…

©Joe Wilson – And as I wander…2015

The trawlerman’s wife & the 1953 spring-tide disaster…

On By jovisgoesIn Fate, Loss, Poetry, Survival, TimeLeave a comment
Flood
Mablethorpe 2 Feb 1953

 

A little dot of light in the distance
Signalled that they were on their way home
She was waiting at her own insistence
As the trawler drew closer through the foam.

Her man had taken another man’s place
And he sailed with yesterday’s tide
But their baby was due in only three days
She wanted him back on dry land by her side.

It caused her to reflect on her father
He’d been lost in the’53 spring tide
That had raced down the east coast of England
Brushing trawlers and ferries to one side.

They called it ‘The Big Flood’, it was really that bad
It happened unexpectedly
Two and a half thousand, including her dad
Were drowned and swallowed by the sea.

January thirty-first into February one
The storm raged like no other before
Then it turned out to sea and was suddenly gone
Leaving death and devastation in it’s maw.

The trawler was pulled into the harbour
And her husband jumped the jetty and ran
He took her into his arms and she worried no more
He was home, he was safe, and her man.

 

©Joe Wilson – The trawlerman’s wife & the 1953 spring-tide disaster…2015

Desolation…

On By jovisgoesIn Fate, Fear, hitting the wall, Holding tight, Life, Loss, Poetry, Regret, TimeLeave a comment

I see the lights of distant towns
yet hear the noise of happy sounds
while sitting, seeing in my cave
in total silence
……….…..like the grave.

My cave’s a room
within a house
where I sit quietly
….………..as a mouse.

I cannot think
as thought is gone
from brain which stopped
……..…….it can’t go on.

And so to dust
my body goes
reduced by maggots
……………and fed to the crows.

©Joe Wilson – Desolation…2015

Some things cannot be bought…

On By jovisgoesIn Fate, Illness, Life, Loss, old age, PoetryLeave a comment

Within his head there are thoughts, so many
most are irrelevant and thus ten a penny
though rare amongst his brain’s detritus
a thought whirls round just like St. Vitus
yet as he struggles this thought’s recall
he knows not if it be grand, or small.

And then it’s gone and is no more
remembers not he, nor is he sure
thus he returns to comfort’s while
wanders round his country pile
his life of wealth is all for naught
soundness of mind cannot be bought.

 

©Joe Wilson – Some thing cannot be bought…2015

His last words (25 December 1914)…

On By jovisgoesIn Children, Christmas, Family, Father, Friendship, heroes, Life, Loss, Love, Poetry, The World, War, WinterLeave a comment
war_edited
…a lonely grave…

 

 

Scarred from the relentless passage of time
pitted with acid rain and covered with grime
forgotten by those who oft pass it by
gazed rarely upon by anyone’s eye.

A proud little monument in a faraway  field
with now faded words and a family shield
his nation had called and he’d gone off to war
though he and his friends didn’t really know what for.

And if you should wander and wonder at it
you’ll probably feel as if you have been hit
by the words that you see that are writ thereupon
“It is with such sadness that I bury my son.”

The last words they had, came back home in a letter
“It can’t go on Father, it has to get better
the killing is awful, they’re young men much like us
Please kiss dearest Mother, and a Merry Christmas.

 

©Joe Wilson – His last words (25 December 1914)… 2014