A breathless black bird cannot fly,
Yet, a drowned fish can still float in water;
You can eviscerate its tongue, but you
Cannot unring a rung bell;
But you can knee a black man’s neck,
And he’ll never breathe again;
You may oppressively beat us to the ground,
But we shall rise again;
For we are indeed,
The children of blood and thunder
And we shall not stay down:-
No, a breathless black bird cannot fly,
Yes, a drowned fish can still float in water;
Though the pandemic road ahead
May be rough and rugged,
We’re well equipped with bulldozer souls;
Like butterflies, we may be cocooned in metamorphosis,
Yet, we shall soar with eyes on the prize;
We’re like the circadian moon—waning—
But always waxing back to fulfillment;
Like the sun going to its evening horizon settings,
We too, shall continue to rise again and again:-
Religion and a poet
When I was nine years of age I came to see religion
as a fairy tale and as we know the bible is written
by many scribes during a time, some of them were wise.
I like the Old Testament because it is full
of blood and thunder, the New Testament is a construction
a clean-up of the real thing making palatable for the squeamish.
I think the creator of our world as an overarching intelligence
that when the job was done left its way.
The creator is neither good nor bad for it has no interest in
the world besides creating it, so it is entirely up to us
to make the world a liveable place, alas, so far we have failed.
Mankind have dreamt of extending life long after
its natural cycle even if unseen by the pulsing living world,
that is how some transcribers constructed Paradise so
we can exist into the indefinite and beyond.
To be and not to make no sense other than easing
the fearful heart and comfort the transition into death,
at this point my thoughts were interrupted, my wife
came and told me to do the dishes
TIPPY TAPPY FOOTBALL
Tippy tappy football, I hear the pundits say
That's not proper football, that's not how you play
Tippy tappy football, now what's that all about?
Why can't they play like our lads and take the player out
Tippy tappy football, it's a generation thing
Six players through the middle and no one on the wing
Now tippy tappy football will never quite catch on
It's slow and it's lethargic and next year it’ll be gone
This tippy tappy football that the Spanish want to play
It's pass and move and pass and move and keep the ball all day
This tippy tappy football, It’ll be the ruin of the game
Why can't they shoot or make mistakes, it's really very tame
Tippy tappy football, now what's the great big fuss
We like blood and thunder, so it's really not for us
Yet this tippy tappy football, it's on the up and up
It's helped Spain win two Euros, and one Jules Rimet cup!
Monday, our first decade, and our lives are full of wonder
Tuesday, and our twenties are awash with blood and thunder
Wednesday, the miracle of children of our own
Thursday, and before we blink, the little ones are grown
Friday, and we’re looking back at our retreating dawn
Saturday, our circle shrinks as those we love are gone
Sunday, take the opportunity to give
The ones you love your true devotion, while you still yet live.
My beagles have talons
like eagles.
Oh the hell to be raised
If, one day, they
sprouted fierce wings
and dove upon this fair city.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes!
Blood and thunder. Slash and howl.
You’ve got the mind of a child and all there is to hold,
But never have I ever gone to such extremes in speech.
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.
How repair the eyes,
cried themselves to blindness,
to bid them visualise anew
through ghetto-blurred unkindness?
How repair the mind,
dried with dust and sadness,
so it may idealise again,
dispel the clouds of madness?
How repair the skin,
torn and rent asunder,
that it will energise again,
inflamed with blood and thunder?
How repair the soul,
when it burns and bleeds,
to force it sermonise once more
when Satan holds the deeds?
How repair the heart
that dreams depend upon,
feel it synchronise with time
when life is dead and gone?
I will from cold ashes rise,
triumphant as no other,
on wings of faith and urban hymns,
the phoenix has a brother.