|
Details |
Simon King Poem
“No thank you”
I spoke in answering whether I wanted my till receipt ,
No ! wait ‘
but there is a ( thank you for your service) but no I don’t need the receipt.
I slow my breath briefly ‘look down then lift my head after the pause in thought .
“I’ll say this in its-stead ‘ pointing my finger to an imaginary white board ‘that only my minds eye can actually see ,
“Thank you but no”,
wait that’s not right either as the ‘but’ implies a condition to me giving you some gratitude,
( a slight hesitation)
So ask me again’
‘this time I think I have it .
A Long silence and a nervous look back from the adolescent servicer:
With quavering words and the slightest upward inflection ‘the question is asked for the last time ‘
Probably a good idea as the queue is getting restless and hostile.
Holding my hand up and tilting my head at a jolly angle i reply
“Thank you ‘no”
Copyright © Simon King | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Simon King Poem
Noble and wise watchers they be
‘Homage resounds in that Melodious Crawing that their salute too the great all and Everything begins too Herald.
upward
‘and downwards
‘with purpose and respect ,
Ancient remembrance’s of always dancing this new day’s magic’s too be .
A Broyvy of Avian lore that resounds eternal amongst ‘and through the mightiest of the peacefully standing giants there is .
Renard lays still in that golden dewed meadow ,
feeling the warmth of the new mornings star ‘his powers of invisibility also now at rest .
gentlefolk from the forests deep and peering out from secret hiding’s ‘respectfully listen with attentiveness in all that is being sung .
This murder is majestic in its sounds ‘and Mysterious in its wondrous morning Call .
Copyright © Simon King | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Simon King Poem
The Two goldfish Eric and jaws are swimming around in their bowl on a glass coffee table located in a small apartment block just south of Manhattan’s lower east side .
they begin a conversation about the origins of life.
jaws turns to eric and says ,
"there must be more than this" ?,
Eric replies "don't be ridiculous The world around you is the only one that has life ,the great sprinkler in the sky made us in his own image we clearly came from monkeys he exclaimed ",
jaws the other goldfish scowling,
protested at this remark,
"then who built the statue that stands amongst the silent green ? ,Jaws gestured toward the bottom of their bowl .
"And it Doesn't look like us".
Eric swam on a little further before replying,
"our kind made it many sprinkles ago",
as a tribute, they were simple fish back then , savages even !
that were clearly clueless".
Jaws stopped swimming, "savages ? , that were able to build such a magnificent statue ,with just gravel tools ?, we can't even do that today ! .
"Keep swimming"
Eric exclaimed , or you will ascend up wards and the great sprinkler will take you into the sky" !.
At this jaws swam on , " so you think we are all there is and no other life exists anywhere else" ?.
Eric chuckled "we should not question but just except the fact evolution and the sprinklers teachings are the law and the only dictates we need.
And the world is not the way you
Perceive the world to be ,young jaws of that I promise you ".
At this point of their conversation The two fish had made a five second revolution of the bowl which in their time had = their worlds space nicely , one turned to the other and they began a conversation about the origins of life jaws says to eric "there must be more than this" to which the Eric replies "don't be ridiculous .............
Copyright © Simon King | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Simon King Poem
I shall no longer worry about the things I can’t effect or change .......
instead I shall focus on the things I can ,
And in times When I reach that Dark chasm of the unknown ,
I shall Bridge this fearful height with my faith ....cross cautiously ‘
‘and pray that it holds .
Copyright © Simon King | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Simon King Poem
The death of common sense has been under reported lately
As a coups d'état has taken the world by storm.
Now
Upon his throne "stupidity" holds council with callousness, greed , hate and war ,all of whom smugly agree it's seem like a darker future a head .
Stupidity calls for Suffering , but she is busy in foreign lands at present , so war is sent with a message to bring her home.
Meanwhile callousness and hate shall have to do her bidding until she returns .
So the word goes out, common sense is dead ,
Stupidity and it's ways now rule us all !
Copyright © Simon King | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Simon King Poem
Early morning wakens and as the cockerel starts to crow,
Mr fox starts his hunting
and toward the coup he goes,
Peeking through the door way and thinking of his fun,
face to face he is now paralysed, "it’s a chicken with a gun" ! .
“Well Mr fox the hen says ,smiling with a s ,
my clucking nerves are tender this morning,
what with my feather on this trigger.
“Please don’t shoot my golden friend for my paws are in the air , all of a sudden my appetites gone and for chicken I don’t care .
Oh Mr fox , the way you act ,
you’re a constant causes of trouble ,
One step closer on your behalf ,
And both barrels will shoot you double
.
The Hen jumped down from her perch above as the others beat their wings ,
I can assure you fox I have more in this box, and BB,s do more
than sting .
"Please wait Mrs chuck",
the fox did plead ,
Are you not being a wee bit hasty,
With his paws still up he could not help
but think this chicken still looked tasty.
Closer she edged and primed the gun ,
and aimed it at his head,
"this is for all my sisters now,
and all those that are dead.
"Mercy screamed Mr fox , but it was to no avail,
smiling the chicken came closer,
and blasted off his tail.
“Run now ! Mr fox ,
this was just for fun
,But never come calling here again,
Because this chicken has a gun”!!
In memory of our lost chucks and cockerel .
Copyright © Simon King | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Simon King Poem
Definition:
Corona ' the rarefied gaseous envelope of the sun or other stars'
Dose that mean this virus is space born or maybe from mars?
The media will inform you to Heed the warnings and feel that fear
'That we should Close the boarders
"let's not have it here" .
don't touch that ‘
and avoid that place the latest reports confirm it’s from space .
Just a cough at the beginning this heralds its start
'but watch the hell out
‘for this virus is smart .
I heard on the radio that hospitals can no longer cope
'this thing from the stars has robbed our hope ,
thousands have fallen and some have even died
from this astral weapon that's now been applied .
So What's the government’s line to combating this plague ?
It’s to Forget this poem
‘As it’s misleading and vague .
Copyright © Simon King | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Simon King Poem
When religion was born,
It was a small defenceless animal,
But soon found mankind’s problems to nurture it.
As time went on religion grew stronger and larger
It mated with belief and behold ! Creed and discrimination were born.
This was a family destined to rule the simple folk known as man.
Generations went by and between the great family of religion and belief, they tore at the very heart of what was right and what was wrong.
Faith was banished long ago and told never to return
But still the family didn’t agree .
And so it was decided they didn’t need each other anymore,
Many wars were fought
But not by them ,
The simple folk known as man shall do the bidding and the dying for religion and belief !.
Copyright © Simon King | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Simon King Poem
The phone rings, or the door sounds a knock,
Upon answering , the feeling of disappointment descends upon me ,
blown in upon an ice cold wind of “Oh no not again“.
Before me stands the energy vampire the one who would suckle on my emotions and drain me of a good mood as if it were blood,
Eagerly partaking of this sustenance and giving no heed to any but its self.
Their words carry one meaning only, self ,self , self
This wretched creature stands in the bucket of crap they call their life and beacons me to stand with them.
But I refuse,
It tries to drag me in to the mire of hopelessness that it wallows in.
On and on they bleat about themselves with no regard to others or to the blinding light that is the truth .
it shades its self from this light
Looks away and tries to cover me with its cloak of misery.
Stating ,“there is room for you as well ! we can be cold together!”.
Still Ignoring my council and refusing to peer out from its depression
Its eyes still speak hunger for energy and my life in its entirety.
“Be gone foul wretch “
I think to my self and make excuse to bring this time to an end.
At the parting the vampire states that it feels much better having talked to me,
“Yes” I think to my self ,
you have just drained and fed off my energy ,[again]
But this will be the last time.
As I will be ready for your next visit or call
The stake of home truth will pierce your cold selfish heart.
I shall silence your pitiful whining by shielding myself with not giving a damm,
And finally I will speak the mantra of
‘There are far worse off than you,
Be gone vampire be gone .
Copyright © Simon King | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Simon King Poem
‘No !
I am not a God Fearing man ‘
quite the opposite
‘I love my Creators
Copyright © Simon King | Year Posted 2020
|
|