poem

anothe poem hot of the press

when the world runs quiet
and you turn up late
its not the desire that makes us hate
for if the love of a journey
was to make it to the end
then would it drive us round the bend
to be a lone
once in a while
maybe take that longer mile
this world can take it’s toll
but when it does take the bus
the jounrey will be easier on us
and tomorrow
when the world’s okay
remember me this happy way
and not what i feel

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poem

dont wanna stand here
but i cant walk away
my pain and shame
fading into the once coloured frame
what this world needs is a hero
super-slogan and hope
time for him to rise
come from the grave
three days dead
who but can he save
and on the dawn of dusk here cries
the angels by and at his side
tomorrow this world will be different
for once again I have my king
and praises to him i will sing

poem · thoughts and musings

Weeping, wasting
leaving lately
I watch the sun set
across the water
I watch it rise across the skies
And i watch the sun linger midless
along the streets they walk
for time is swiftly fleeting
along this lonely floor
and as i see the pairings shatter
i watch the postcards flutter
from rescue me to save the trees
Pictures float past
different windows
winning motives
and if faith has to play
it’s smallundevaiting path
then we should know it’s bigger
bigger than what we see
larger than what we know
huger than you and me
the mess we have laid down
the typing of random scenes
linked so cleaverly with rhyming words
for this broken world is all i see
it’s scenes include the summer fields
and the snowy mountian tops
but more it is the war torn desert
and gun ravaged streets
and all it takes is the tears of a child
to see the human inside us all
scared, lost alone

I’m crying
not for you or me
but for this broken world
as that is all I can see

poem

tomorrow is a different day
lets up it changes us in a different way
shape up shake up its time to see
that its not your time to believe in me
turn round look back at the deep blue see
my friends are already on the attack
they create and they collapse
they shape and they relapse
but im not sure i care
im not sure if i can stay awake no more
im to tired to stand its time for me to fall
its time for you to believe in yourself
its time for me to fall

poem

madness persues only thoses
who can escape, but the trails of an ordianry man,
may fade away away in time
but, only by his own hand,
and if then the world could be,
what all men wish to see,
will he have done his part
through hunger and emptiness of heart,
and all who no this feeling crave it
like figs to a dove,
they name it love

poem

poem, revised edition

And if they all took time to look
then maybe they would see
step, back, relax, it’s fine, really
I’m still me

Just reach out to let me know
you will stick and stay around
for time is slipping past my friend
and my feet have lost there ground

Well if tomorrow I say goodbye
please just take no attention
I’m only just freaking out
about this new sensation

Maybe time will halt for us
maybe time will stop for old friends
then we will never have to move on
and this will never have to end

poem

Listening to the rain

I was listening to the rain last night instead of typing and instead I wrote this:

It comes down always comes down
it never seems to stop rain upon this ground
its like the tears that fall in heartache
or joyful eye watering in a happy break
but yet this moment this sound seems lonely
like a lone man crying for those who have, has and are lost
humming himself a drum beat
upon these forgotten streets
maybe its time for us all to meet
just one last time
before the night comes