Long Step too far Poems
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He walked with a swagger,
a delinquent lagger and recidivist wagger
all his schoolboy days.
Joyridin on the Pare’ bus
he’d skylark and cuss just like one of us
as was his way always.
He was undeniably cool
but did piss off at school and play the fool
from bell to ringin bell.
Widely well liked as a peer
and but for the odd jeer had nothin to fear
but many a tale to tell.
He oft sat ready in class
but mostly half ar-se and exams barely pass
and interest feign.
Almost always in a scrape
lookin to mock or ape or some dare or jape
and felt a swingin cane.
He did the flyin fox fling
and legs and arms cling on the rope swing
with collidin force.
For dear life hands hangin,
blokes fallin and clangin into bodies bangin
on the Confidence Course.
He was a hurler of eggs
and till someone begs did charlie their legs
but it was all in fun.
A water bomb he’d let fly
when he’d up on high ambush a passer-by
abscondin on the run.
He under the gym below
with his friends in tow did hide and stow
lest they all be found.
Then one guy in the loop
dived through a hoop and the rest swoop
should it fall down.
He at lunch hour stood
all dutiful and good but not as he should
policin the tuck shop.
As monitor it was his job
to calm the unruly mob but not tell or dob
suckin on his lollipop.
He climbed out on a limb
and broke into the gym lettin his friends in
loadin up the bar.
Squattin and pressin away
liftin in the weight bay till fun and horseplay
went a step too far.
He was a classroom pest
out of uniform dressed on his own quest
and always in strife.
But in his heart he knew
what he needed to do lest bedlam ensue
and his foolin run rife.
He was a master pranker,
some say a wanker but he did hanker
for somethin more.
Girls thought him sweet
and fell at his feet goin crazy for Skeet
but his spell had no cure.
Written: February 2018
Looking back over my teenage years
socially not together as others are
feeling alone keeping my self to self
being extrovert was a step too far
My main source of enjoyment each week
was soccer at my local team being a fan
meet up with a few guys there in support
shouting on Killie hoping to be no also ran
Going to the cinema quite a bit
on my own enjoy the big screen
sometimes straight from work I'd go
got fish supper before home like a teen
Never really had any friends
didn't go holidays in these days
then learnt to drive a motorcar
gave me more freedom ever always
Looking back now they were difficult times
felt real isolated think in this world alone
God's hand was upon me though was unseen
His purpose to find me my true cornerstone
God was in no hurry to draw me
He knew all the future all planned out
using my experience in teenage years
in later years would be my blessed fount
(This is written about my memories of my teenage years, My local soccer team Killie was its nickname as its proper name was Kilmarnock. )
a step too far
breaking news
on my TV
I was surprise to see
my president again
as he utter his speech
I was interested and happy
to listen
I was full of hopes
not until my right was
seen as a step too far
what a shame
what a word
what a president
after 3months
away from the country
this was his message
but am sorry
my right is my right
our right is our right
the country is a mess
our economy is falling
speedily down
the people are disunity
as much as we claim united
our business are in closed
our wages are zero
and when we fight for
freedom
oh God I get confused
our President
say is
a step too far!
R is for RETROSPECTIVE
A poem is never merely still born,
it has its creator's eyes,ears and nose
Yet,unique it lives a life of its own
independent,well able to stand alone
On others it can,influence,affect
energise,direct or initiate
A response,unforseen and immediate
or lie dormant,yet not dead,but waiting
Watered by another's mutual bond
resurrected,to live again,again
I recite and read aloud,
wander, lonely as a cloud,
then emulate and create
as memory stimulates
Swim against poetry's tide
therein,an enigma hide,
perhaps,a step too far,with
Tennyson,crossing the bar
I dream on Will's sonnet verse,
figuratively,sweet and terse,
lazing life away,with songs
compared to a summer's day
To conjure an opening line
ever,remembered,as mine.
Through this personal lens I think,then write
perspective's gaze alters,from night to night,
as blotting paper,absorbs impressions
of poetry's learned and unlearned lessons
My anthology,my journey's log book
from mainstream or the back lanes I took,
An emphasis upon a favoured form
those endeavours which I,on reflection mourn
I change,I alter or perhaps stand still
in retrospective of a fogotten will,
And yet,driven by this creative itch,
each day,I,this word tapestry must stitch
In certain homes you can’t wear shoes;
The option isn’t yours to choose.
It doesn’t line up with my views,
But I can understand it.
Though I was just surprised to read
That certain offices took heed
And told employees that they need -
In fact, they did demand it -
To shed their footwear at the door,
No matter what type that they wore.
This order they could not ignore;
The high-ups did command it.
To me, that is a step too far,
For shoes show who you really are
And wearing slippers might just mar
Your rep and how you brand it.
At home, you maybe act the slob,
But when you dress up for your job,
No boss should be allowed to rob
Your look, the way you planned it.
There is a fine line between a friend and a foe,
One careless step – and fractures take their toll.
A fragile thread by unseen tensions spun,
One step too far – and what was whole undone.
So often formed with little strain,
Yet just as fast dissolve in pain.
What once felt easy, light, and strong,
Can turn to silence, cold and wrong.
What blooms in trust may rot without a sound
For trust once cracked is rarely ever found.
For bonds are built through patient art,
With love and kindness at their heart.
Yet when mistakes and tensions crawl,
Those pillars crack — and shadows fall.
Thus guard the line no eyes are trained to see,
For foes are often friends we used to be.
To wear or not wear a mask that is the question found poems
To wear or not wear a mask
Is the question
That bedevils the world
From Brazil to the White House
Ohio and Texas
The call has gone out
Wearing a mask
Means you are a liberal weak sissy man
Or woman Listening to the government’s propaganda
Real American patriots
don’t need to wear a damn mask
Cough cough cough
Nothing but a cold
It is nothing serious at all
. Well, not in Ft. Bend County.
We will not trample on the individual rights
of Texans to provide
a false sense of security.
Cough cough cough
Nothing but a cold
It is nothing serious at all
I have 826 staff at the Ft. Bend Sheriff’s Office.
We interact with the public daily.
In 3 months, I’ve had just 2 officers test positive.
I have over 800 inmates
and staff in the jail
and not a single positive test.
NOT ONE.
Cough cough cough
Nothing but a cold
It is nothing serious at all
No one’s been hospitalized.
Except in Houston and other
Godless cities
Cough cough cough
Nothing but a cold
It is nothing serious at all
Here in FT Bend
The blood of Jesus
Will protect
The good christians
Cough cough cough
Nothing but a cold
It is nothing serious at all
Only non-Christian heathens
Are catching the ***********
Cough cough cough
Nothing but a cold
It is nothing serious at all
I encourage people to wear a mask
if they have one,
I encourage people
to wash their hands frequently,
Cough cough cough
Nothing but a cold
It is nothing serious at all
I encourage people to do
the right thing to help
protect our most vulnerable,
But wearing a mask
That is a step too far
OPEN
Each
chiselled
line
enamel
images
to float
upon
sounds
sans
rime
staccato
syntax
align
symmetry
as
iambics
beat
the
drum
of
vers
liber...
....tine
crosswise MATISSE
Your art your notes your style
So varied so wise so true
Opened then drew close to
My eye my mind my heart
My eye my mind my heart
To love to learn to know
Your craft your theory your technique
Forever you made so unique
crosswise-GRAND-DAUGHTERS FAIR
Your innocence your purity your smile
So open so natural so wide
Charms enchants awakes
My spirit my eyes my pride
My spirit my eyes my pride
Inside in wonder in youth
To pray to gaze to praise
In love in awe of thee
quintile-SWEET VERSE
words too
familiar
or too remote
defeat the purpose of which,
he wrote
was his
hidden
enigma
a step too far,
if no-one could open
his jar
Inspired by Johnson's famous dictum
sequence-THE COUNSELLOR
He
opens
hearts and minds
in sickness and
health-
He
draws us
to himself
a quiet voice
we
hear
prompts
and reminds-
until peace we
find-
Then
fills us
with His word,
so we may be
heard
Fibonacci-faith quaternion
when
I
listen
God will speak
when God speaks
my mind
will
hear
when
the
open
door closes
light begins to glow
a new way
for me
to
go
An open verse
Will
my verse
reach your ear
can
your eye
stay the course
Does
unconvention
confound
the rhythm
of your eyes
Take
a deep breath
exhale and read
between my lines
unphased
by phrase and
habitude
or human voice
The choice
is always
yours if
my poem will
be or is
not to be
a tune upon
your ear
Free Fall
How dare I have the confidence to doubt your misery and such despair
Everything will be fine but where is the everything that matters
The foundation of this world has fallen when rock bottom seemed enough
Void inscribes the Self the World and Future and words amount to Nothing
You’re not in charge of this one step too far with life at odds with freedom
Jump not please as the water beneath suspension is cold weary and forever
All I can do is hold your hand offer my embrace and share what’s left
But if the numb resolve is willing to refuse to let go this very moment
I trust that maybe not for sure but possibly something is left for you to cherish
22th July 2018
I know this happens every year,
but I dislike it all the same,
cloying, oppressive August heat
puts such a great stress on the brain.
Add the humidity to it
and slight movement soaks you through,
I’ve grown tired of the summer,
I have got the dog day blues.
Some people will not believe this,
they’ll just gawk and say I’m bizarre,
to them linking the cooler months
is simply a step too far.
But when the air gets hard to breath,
when relief is denied to you,
I think they’ll start to understand
those who get the dog day blues.
When outside holds a blazing sun
so intense that it chars the skin,
when even the breeze feels too hot
and you have no pool to be in,
when the mercury’s three digits,
and they won’t let you go nude,
then maybe folks will see our point,
see the pain of the dog day blues.
Last of all there’s the damn insects
who oh-so-prolifically breed,
then buzz about looking for food,
and always seem to feed on me,
whether I sleep or am awake,
I find the bastards rather rude,
I slaughter them with slapping hands
and curse these dog day blues.
I’ll breath easier when this has passed
since I don’t care for it at all,
some may like the summer’s sun,
but I say bring on the Fall!
Cool days, flannel, and colored leaves,
and new episodes on the tube,
seems to me a much better deal
than these sweaty, dog day blues.