Best Come To The Fore Poems
We hear the engine whistle
The hissing of the steam
The hairs on our necks begin to bristle
As we meet the arrival of a dream
We didn't think we had a chance of winning
Entering just for fun I guess
but thanks to simple poem we are grinning
As we board the Orient express.
London to Paris, what a dream come true
I never dreamed the sparks would fly between us two
The fireman stokes the boiler; and releases a jet of steam
The guard collects our tickets and we begin our dream
Days and nights together on this magnificent train
Travel through beautiful places, seeing new terrain
Enthralled at the elegance and beauty of the carriage
Will our trip together end up with our marriage
Looking so handsome in your new dinner jacket
Glad you won this holiday; it must have cost a packet
The ambiance of the surroundings is utter bliss
We seal our relationship with a tender kiss
Holding hands so gently we share a vintage wine
Sitting in the Pullman coach you rest your head on mine
Velvet blue sky and shining stars start to cast their spell
The romantic seine has such stories to tell.
In Paris we visit the galleries of fine art
Holding your hand I realise you have captured my heart
We pass through the Arc De Triomphe and climb the Eiffel Tower
Now I surrender to your feminine power
Retire with me to the Napoleon suite
Sharing in the splendour of this romantic treat
Promise to be my Mam'selle Josephine
Or expose my heart to Madame Guillotine
You look so beautiful and smell divine
I kiss your lips, They taste of fine wine
We are lost in the flames of passions fire
As we quench the thirst of true loves desire
Our bodies rise and fall as we entwine
Oh I’m so glad that you are mine
All those feelings denied and for so long suppressed
Come to the fore aboard the Orient express.
Passion abates we are wrapped in each others arms
Darren wants more so I succumb to his great charms
Our fire ignites with desire and great passion
Hour upon hour – this man I can’t ration
Finally we reach the end of the line
Our love making session has been so divine
Arm in arm we head out of the carriage door
So hopelessly in love – who could ask for more
15th April 2014
Jan Allison and Darren Watson - 'JaDazzle'
Please also read my Blog about our collaboration
We hear the engine whistle
The hissing of the steam
The hairs on our necks begin to bristle
As we meet the arrival of a dream
We didn't think we had a chance of winning
Entering just for fun I guess
but thanks to simple poem we are grinning
As we board the Orient express.
London to Paris, what a dream come true
I never dreamed the sparks would fly between us two
The fireman stokes the boiler; and releases a jet of steam
The guard collects our tickets and we begin our dream
Days and nights together on this magnificent train
Travel through beautiful places, seeing new terrain
Enthralled at the elegance and beauty of the carriage
Will our trip together end up with our marriage
Looking so handsome in your new dinner jacket
Glad you won this holiday; it must have cost a packet
The ambiance of the surroundings is utter bliss
We seal our relationship with a tender kiss
Holding hands so gently we share a vintage wine
Sitting in the Pullman coach you rest your head on mine
Velvet blue sky and shining stars start to cast their spell
The romantic seine has such stories to tell.
In Paris we visit the galleries of fine art
Holding your hand I realise you have captured my heart
We pass through the Arc De Triomphe and climb the Eiffel Tower
Now I surrender to your feminine power
Retire with me to the Napoleon suite
Sharing in the splendour of this romantic treat
Promise to be my Mam'selle Josephine
Or expose my heart to Madame Guillotine
You look so beautiful and smell divine
I kiss your lips, They taste of fine wine
We are lost in the flames of passions fire
As we quench the thirst of true loves desire
Our bodies rise and fall as we entwine
Oh I’m so glad that you are mine
All those feelings denied and for so long suppressed
Come to the fore aboard the Orient express.
Passion abates we are wrapped in each other’s arms
Darren wants more so I succumb to his great charms
Our fire ignites with desire and great passion
Hour upon hour – this man I can’t ration
Finally we reach the end of the line
Our love making session has been so divine
Arm in arm we head out of the carriage door
So hopelessly in love – who could ask for more
Written By Jan Allison & Darren Watson
15th April 2014
If you throw like a girl is it because you’re a girl
Or because the boy is more practiced?
And if you do practice, if you do care enough
If he throws a ball harder is it because you’re a girl
Or because he has more muscle mass,
And if another male throws harder that I
Do I throw like a girl? Mark me down simply
As one who seeks to enjoy whatever I do. You should too,
I promise to only love you more for it, but
Only fools wreck their bodies for adulation of others.
If I cry, does that mean that I cry like a girl,
Or, as I suspect, are girls always more practiced
And if I practiced might my tears perhaps bring me less shame
How does one push feelings down and still remain human?
A man that can kill? Well is that human gain?
Though men hold the reins, whose hand rocks the cradle?
To keep family safe should all men become drones?
Perhaps women need to play bigger roles too
And more gender equality come to the fore.
Beautiful, tough and outstanding is self-knowledge
What the world thinks not worth two wooden nickels
If it does not speak to your heart. and only to pride.
Smell nice for me and love being a woman,
If you can love that men love you, love your magic shape,
Love the compassion in your heart, love man’s innocence,
Love that there is strength in the length of your hair,
Bring poetry into your sexuality and always be loved.
Trust that being a man is not always that easy either.
Embrace your potential but study weaknesses as well
For weakness understood properly is future strength.
Don’t drive men wild though instead drive men sane.
Help men to understand that needing you is OK,
That some kinds of weakness in men strengthens love.
The next time you ask me to help in the kitchen
Respect too that men have ideas on where things should go
After all babe I am the man of the house…
Hear me roar!
Brian Johnston
April 27, 2015
Poet's Notes:
I am hoping to make this an Echo poem by combining a poem called 'Like A Girl' by "Poet Destroyer A" with the poem you see here. Wish me luck!
The time for that change has come to the fore,
When we put away stuff to make room for more.
Ornaments that all year had held sway,
Are now boxed up and safely hidden away.
Our Grandson is coming for a short holiday,
So the house is transformed just for his stay.
Christmas is early just for his delight,
While he is here we will enjoy Christmas night.
The cabinet in the corner goes down the hall,
To make room for the Christmas Tree so tall.
Fran starts to rub her hands with glee,
It's time to put up the Christmas Tree!
So out come the boxes of Christmas stuff,
Out come the tangles of Christmas Tree lights.
I built the tree and set the lights twinkling bright,
Fran moves in with her flair to make all look right.
Santa stands by with his sack of surprises in boxes,
Polar bears to the front on skis and squirrels aglow,
All standing in knee deep in cotton wool snow.
Christmas village and people are set and all lit,
Poinsettia all blooming on the table centre sit,
Now we are ready to share our delight,
With our daughter and grandson.
A Special Christmas Night.
A Very Happy & Blessed Christmas to All
© Dave Timperley. Christmas 2016
'Helpless' is an adjective I never thought
my hand would write to describe the despair
that's wound its way deep inside my heart.
Honestly, I'm only the catalyst of my own life,
the taproot that strengthens my mindset,
my cornerstone, my anchor, my backbone
when I wobble in the wind over matters
that I deem too serious to contemplate.
Lately, my thoughts swing back and forth,
from heights and depths, highs and lows.
My conscience cannot abide the seesaw
on which it rides up and down.
It wants to get off but can't find the right stride
to control where my troubled mind goes.
What fulcrum will serve as a bulwark for me?
Today I turn away from the bitterness and strife,
but tomorrow my mind will again pivot upon life.
I am a pendulum, swinging in the air,
but I have no counterweights to spare.
I try to bury my worries, but I still hear them chime.
There's no place to hide from a revolution.
Persecution of the innocent is a wretched crime.
What can I do to ease such chaos and lament?
I pray for Divine intervention with the intention
that God's mercy will help humankind
endure their banes and lessen their pains.
But is it His plan to save man in this way?
I've become unsure that He will intervene.
With so much folly and corruption in the world
I wonder... should I keep my sails unfurled
and take flight so that I might never see
horrors in the night and the bitter blight,
the tragedy being inflicted upon each other.
Or should I stay to fight with my brothers?
Given my druthers, there'd be no choice to make
if greed in fiendish ones, they would forsake.
What hub could serve as the center point,
a crux where minds meet to ease the tension,
and erase the apprehension in our society?
If there is an answer it has not come to the fore.
Must that mean war is the only solution?
Is there no resolution, something awesomely sublime,
to be a lever of sanity and give proper perspective
to a world standing on the edge of fanatical unrest?
I've no answer that would end the volatile upheaval
or staunch the flow of blood driven by an evil ego.
To negate the vile ones who are assailing humanity,
will take a mind shrewder than mine has to reveal.
March 8, 2022
Consciousness Fulcrum Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
Hear the untold song we sing at any cost,
Though the crowd may laugh and children, jeer:
Through the parting clouds, lascivious angels leer,
Till a fall from heaven spells their holocaust.
Sing the unsung tale of dirty angels lost,
Licking off our faces the salt of our dry tears,
Our bloodshot eyes shut tight behind our fears
That our guiding stars will never come uncrossed.
Now our yellowed ledger shows a settled score,
But devils from the past gnaw on our souls,
And ghosts that we have wronged come to the fore
Of our fading memory, riddled with holes.
Because we are quickly rotting to the core,
We do not grieve at all when the grim bell tolls.
Midst the twilight of wakefulness and sleep
Our minds meander to places shallow and deep.
They visit domains that while awake we won't go
Depicting ourselves when old, feeble, and slow.
But in only a dozen deepening breaths more
We grow wings and over mountain peaks soar.
Our free-roaming minds are rife with surprises
Letting us look behind old friends' disguises.
We learn with shock of a teacher's double life
It cuts to the quick like a long-bladed knife.
We must have envisioned scenes of these kinds
And hidden them away in the niches of our minds.
Only in twilight do they come to the fore
And make our wanton thoughts a wide-open door.
There once was a robin who flew
somewhat strangely down my chimney flue.
When I asked if she missed
due to morn's heavy mist,
she said, "That, plus I'm fighting the flu".
Unhappy with how much I weigh,
for a long time I searched for a way
to get rid of some weight.
This was well worth the wait:
to fruit smoothies I add powdered whey!
She prays to her Father most holy,
while adoring His worthiness wholly.
For long hours she'll kneel
by her new husband, Neil.
So that's why both their pants are so holey.
Though he couldn't look me in the eye,
the cupcake thief said, "It is I".
When I asked, "So you ate
every one of the eight?"
With a fierce stomach ache he said, "aye".
A new singer has come to the fore
though I honestly don't know what for.
Her light dimly has shone
(as her critics have shown) -
her "cringe" songs I could name three or four.
This poet tells bad jokes (puns, too)
every minute he'll tell one or two.
Now this half-funny bard
from all bars is now barred
till his victims who passed out come to.
My sailboat I towed down the road
to the bay; at the helm my son rode.
But no breezes were seen
at the smooth-as-glass scene -
to our destination we both rowed!
Twelve donuts I opted to buy,
as I nibbled on them by and by.
Now they're gone - who knows where
(my new pants I can't wear)
With this mystery I'll sign off. Bye!
//Homophones - two words sounding the same but with different meanings //
Written 26 Oct 2022
She’s like a boor or a yokel
who knows no boundaries
such a pain in the neck
that makes others suffer.
Her ways is irritating,
like in many instances
where collaboration entails
either at work or in any human endeavor.
She continues to brag about
her role as someone who’s in charge
but that’s not a big deal;
not even something to tell.
It’s always in that perspective
where one has to understand
that our role as co-workers
doesn’t need so much ambition.
It’s true that human relationship
a proverbial tone in all sectors
that conflicts come to the fore
inevitable, a challenge by nature.
Confrontation or dialogue
with sincerity and openness
difficult but meaningful
especially in our culture.
It’s nonetheless a real picture
about ourselves in actions
the work of human principles
negate hiding and sugarcoating.
Well, that’s life in reality,
always the common reason
co-existence in similar institution
needs prayer and communication.
So Much and Yes More
As she let slip her gown to reveal a shoulder so white
Her head she turned round with lips full, luscious and teeth oh so white
His lips trembled as they touched her flesh, the gown rippled to the floor
As he kissed her, his mind was planning to do so much, and yes more…
Knees trembling with a desire as the heat started to rise
His kisses rise up from her chin to each fluttering closed eye
Her hands did a walk round his body, she found twas no chore
He waited and he wanted her do so much, and yes more…
Burning now with desire, tongues battling with lust
Flicking the lips, the white teeth, tongue running round was a must
Teeth that shone in the blue light last night on the dance floor
Although they may be false they still wanted to do so much and yes more.
Knees that had trembled in that first shy clumsy embrace
Were strong and steady now he felt there was no need to chase
Because the walking frame is away they are leaning against the door
Wrapped in each others arms and wanting to do so much, and yes more…
New found love, the twinkle in the eye of each lover of fun
Misted eyes not with love, but a cataract on each one.
They exchanged words of love; they were going to have a drink next door
Holding hands under the table wanting to do so much and yes more…
Hearts were pounding a magnetism drew them so close to journeys end
The new induction cooker finished off the would be lovers that were now friends
As they leaned against it in a passionate embrace - neither saw
A warning about induction and pacemakers, that damage so much, and yes more…
The sparks they did fly and the couple reveled in their final burst of lust
But it was very short lived as they both then bit the dust
So take heed as you age and your passions still come to the fore
Avoid making love against an induction hob as the damage is so much and yes more…
© ~GG~ 09/10/2102
We have become so much more than we were before.
What started as a brief encounter ,
has become an important part of who we are.
Dialogue is ever shifting,
nothing is too personal to say.
Our deepest thoughts,
our silliest ideas,
everything is shared.
We continue to talk,
about what is in our hearts and on our minds.
Our souls are bared, visions discussed,
families dissected.
Inner thoughts are given voice!
What came before, what yet may be.
Our visions are formed,
into ideas to be explored.
Everything and nothing is said and many times laughed about.
Our inner emotions come to the fore, thoughts shared,
discussed and given voice.
Only to us are these things important.
We share as only true friends can share.
We are both blessed.
Caged Beast
Thoughtful and logical mind now becomes primeval, unruly and savage
Anger and hatred in every thought come to the fore
Life you betrayed me, I don’t need you anymore
Don’t enter my domain, don’t stare at me, touch me or utter a word
Attack is on my mind, no warning will be given or heard
Pain is my mistress and silence my desire
My entire body and mind are on fire
Psychotic – Anger, red mist
Neurotic – Anxious, obsessive, black haze
Catatonic – Silent, motionless, colourless and crazed
Doctors what do they know
They google it, they read it, do they understand it?
I have to dam well live it
If but one winner there can be
Please,oh please,let it be me
If there be more
Let mine come to the fore!
We see them all as pests to be destroyed.
For they feed upon our food crops galore.
And invade all our homes by the score.
They bite and sting and this we can’t avoid
So poisonous chemicals must be employed.
Daily we spray these insects more and more
As our inventive ways come to the fore
To make their reproduction then fall void.
But we are focussing on self-interests
Thinking that we now can control nature.
We will rid our world of these wretched pests.
With clever chemicals we’ll be master.
And soon bring an end to all those insects
As we are in command of Earth's future.
As I lay me down to sleep.
Off to dream land without a peep.
Magic seems to fill the air.
As I dream that I am there.
Never have I seen such a place before.
As magical creatures come to the fore.
Unicorns so pure and white.
Disappear mysteriously out of sight.
I come to an opening and into a clear.
I see colourful gardens every where.
And up on a hill top , way up high,
A magical castle seems to touch the sky.
And off to my left , a water fall.
I hadn't really noticed before.
And strange little beings , with butterfly wings.
Flying about , and doing all sorts of things.
Through an archway and down a path.
A beautiful angel is playing a harp.
I come to some stairs , that seem painted in gold.
No one would believe me , if I ever told.
Up the stairs as I come to a door.
I knock once , twice , three times and four.
The door seem to open by it's self.
I tip-toe inside quiet and stealth.
Over by a window is a beautiful white bed.
All I can see , is the top of a head.
As I look around the room , a little bit more.
I see a beautiful white unicorn on a dresser draw.
And strange little beings with butterfly wings.
Hanging from the ceiling on pieces of string.
And over on a shelf , near the door.
Is the angel I thought I saw before.
And the castle that seem to touch the sky.
Is down on the floor , by the bedside.
What seems to appear before my eyes.
Is a room I recognize.
But am I awake , or , asleep.
As back in my room, I now creep.