We’re driving the public crazy
But you know, it’s all for fun
We’re driving the public crazy
But you see, it’s all for fun
Let’s tell ‘em that the sun is the moon
And that the moon was actually the sun
You can park your car in the driveway
Ain’t nobody gonna leave
Park your car in the driveway
Ain’t nobody gonna try to leave
The more I think about it,
More I wanna lay my head and grieve
Well we lived in chauvinism
For goin’ on ten thousand years
Living in chauvinism
For just about ten thousand years
But they been lookin’ at us from watchtowers
They got infinite records of fears
Now I dont wanna fire my weapon
Don’t wanna start no kinda duel
Don’t wanna fire this weapon
And start some kinda duel
‘Cause I know just what’s gonna happen:
Disintegration of all rules
If you talk about my mother,
Then brother, you’re gonna pay
Talk about my mother
And brother, you gonna pay
I got this receipt for a motel
And forever, that’s where we’ll stay
An uneasy truce hovers in the air
combatants tense, no soldier dares
to catch a minute's sleep
the price of that, far too steep
Minutes pass, they feel like hours
searchlights flare o'er watchtowers
The truce so far's held half a night
soldiers curse to mask their fright...
I slide and heave with gaunt brittle bones,
along this pitch fume-filled black tunnel ,
twisting, rolling, writhing in a sea of tar,
vapours hot and sticky taunt my nose,
as thoughts of orange-red sunsets,
coral pink lagoons, dream scene blue,
moon shadow are my visual anchor,
catalyst to daylight freedom quest.
here I am scrawny skeletal innocent,
squeezed like toothpaste from a tube,
into a world of pulsing urban metros,
Big Brother cameras snoop on sight,
prying eye, CCTV cadre choker.
wolves in human form fly a kite.
venal dormant czars censor skylines,
concrete jungle watchtowers scar heavens.
has this earnest gumption-driven fugitive,
swopped one form of jailer for another
Posted : 6th March 2022
There is a war of rage being waged.
I want to run into the heat I feel,
And fight to save global souls,
Not ease into the frost surreal.
I hear my commander’s voice,
Calling me out to come and see,
This echo cries for unending peace,
Never settling for inhumanity.
I behold the gauntlet of the clash,
And stand up to the vision I see.
This is why we came at last,
In the revolutions of eternity.
I reach out to gather others in,
Taking stock in preparation to go.
We wave our freedom banners in the wind,
“Attack!” is our manifesto.
We are the marked generation,
Fighting for family preservation.
Our hearts bear with ultimate victory,
The work shouldered in exultant delivery!
We are the soldiers of this hour,
And workers of Christ’s power.
Building upon our watchtowers,
We righteously make the Kingdom ours.
Go and read this manifesto,
It will make you a true hero.
It is a holy ancient record written,
Entitled, “The Book of Mormon.”
Islands in the Stream
Islands linked together like forged argent charms,
In straights of silent, surging currents,
Where Watchtowers of Fresnel lens sound fog sirens
Where sacred shoals harbor shame forgiven;
Lightships built high on cribs and Keys of truth finally seen
As bright argand lamps on chariot wheels send out beacons,
To signal sightless ships with broken masts and rudders
Through whirlpools of turbulent canals and gushing straights,
To find serene deep-water ports in chains of channeled islands.
Yet, these no islands only mountaintops of maturity climbed
From submerged land coupled at a thousand leagues
Beneath the tidal moon enchantment;
Restoring milestone harbors of illumination
Words lit by isophase candle lamps inside carved prisms
Expanding light waves of thought - recognitions of new plateaus
Topping astragals of aerobeacons with untasted adventures
Into enlightenments leaving behind each newly explored isle -
New christened tall ships navigate siren’s lure in uncharted streams.
9-20-21
Contest: Islands in the Stream
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Oh, the directions
My god..
South in the mind, the ripping
How it tears us all to pieces
Then just as fast, a smiling child
Clutching onto a skirt
North, the stretch of asphalt
That disappears never
And can crash into the ocean
Then thread itself together again
To bridge the awful trench
Between the two—
is Here
Where these watchtowers look down
With eyes of stone and eyes of light
Threatening, daring the soul to take a step
Then reaching out its soft hand like a grandmother
To hoist the life from its knees
Hadrian's wall
Stood proud it was the empire's pride
The Picts were a thorn renowned for their gall
So Rome built a divide
With watchtowers and forts it kept the Picts at bay
Rome couldn't defeat them, it was the only way
Long sections of it stand today
When the empire crumbled so did Hadrian's wall.
Written 12th June 2019
For writing challenge, June 2019, Crumbling Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart.
Titans tilting, tangibly human windmills
Swaying sentries, harboring haloed witness
Lofted coal mines, timber canary cages
Whispers from redwoods
Bite Size Poem no34 Poetry Contest
Brexit Sonnet No. 46
‘A Brexit Gift’
What larks! A Brexit gift with double bow,
A tale of two shires with border slung between.
As cameras flash, a cashing stream doth flow
To feed and nourish London’s clear air dream.
Have I missed a move, a deliberate flit,
To lands with stranger names I do not know?
Wonder or Never look a perfect fit,
Where puff and bluff are seen to run the show.
At Camden’s line, keep thy steely gaze
‘Gainst escaping toffs with stupid schemes.
A channel bridge, some bodies to be raised;
And poetic gaffes galore with clumsy themes.
So watchtowers keep your silent, weary guard.
See him escaping, blow your whistle hard!
©Keith Murphy
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