Allotments 4 All

Ok BB and Carol,I've not included any long poems but here a just a few samples of my many scribbles, most of which are taken from my experiences:
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I'm a Believer

I believe in Jesus
and each evening after tea,
I clasp my hands together
and fall upon one knee,
I close my eyes and wonder...
does he believe in me?

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(this one was published in The Independant newspaper 1998)

Car Bomb

I lived, yet laid in supine pose
and heard a woman, soft in prayer,
as silently the black smoke rose
to fill the Londonderry air;

and then I felt her fingertips
rest gently on my unkissed lips.

Oh, Danny boy, you gave me hell,
there's such a bloody mess
lying in this broken shell,
beneath this bloody battledress;

and as I laid so close to death
I heard her draw her final breath.

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(published in "A Tapestry of Thoughts")

An Apple a Day

"An apple eaten every day
will keep the doctor well away".
That's what his mother used to say.

So, religiously he ate his fruit
and soon became a healthy brute,
eventually turning out to be
an addict to the vitamin 'C'.

But the fruiterers came out and striked
so he couldn't get the fruit he liked,
withdrawal symptoms soon set in
(that's when he started drinking gin).

This new habit he was overdoin',
a new addiction quickly brewin',
and now he is his mother's ruin!
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The Look of Love

As dainty as a water-sprite
in the weir pool of the night,
she bathes in naked candlelight
with eyes of passion burning bright.

In years to come I'd pay the price
for this brief glimpse of paradise,
the look of love is not so nice
when eyes of passion turn to ice.
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Mr Punch

Mr Punch has a large hooked nose
and a suit of flaming red,
Mr Punch has a thingy's-comb hat
perched high upon his head.

Mr Punch has a wooden stick
and with it he beats Judy,
he beats her when he's feeling glad
and also when he's moody.

When Mr Punch gets in a rage
he beats the Ghost then beats the stage,
....and the puppet-man who runs the show?
he gets beaten too...I know!
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Chaz

Such sad and thoughtful poems Chaz.

I'm currently writing a book on the origins and meanings of nursery rhymes, there are a few eye-openers in those :o

Tramp


By a stream, in a field
Near some graves, in a town
Is a place where I go
When my life’s sliding down

On a bench, in the field,
Is where the needle goes in
And to soak up my sorrow
I suck from my tin

Strange people watch me
As I walk through the town
With my carrier bag
Full of Newcastle brown

And I don’t need those people,
When I sit here alone
And slowly dissolve
In this world of my own

The face that was me
Now hides behind hair
And the eyes that once smiled
Are dulled with despair

I will beg for my money
And I will shout at the ground
And il cry by the river
When no-ones around

Don't quite know what to say, I'm always a bit overawed by really creative people and words like lovely, nice and beautiful don't even scratch what I want to say

Heres one of me fav poets a geezer called Linton kwesi Johnson... u might want to check im out......

Mekkin Histri

now tell mi someting
mistah govahment man
tell mi someting
how lang yu really feel
yu coulda keep wi andah heel
wen di trute done reveal
bout how yu grab an steal
bout how yu mek yu crooked deal
mek yu crooked deal?
well doun in Soutall
where Peach did get fall
di Asians dem faam-up a human wall
gense di fashist an dem police sheil
an dem show dat di Asians gat plenty zeal
gat plenty zeal
gat plenty zeal
it is noh mistri
wi mekkin histri
it is noh mistri
wi winnin victri
now tell mi someting
mistah police spokesman
tell mi someting
how lang yu really tink
wi woulda tek yu batn lick
yu jackboot kick
yu dutty bag a tricks
an yu racist pallyticks
yu racist pallyticks?
well doun in Bristal
dey ad noh pistal
but dem chase di babylan away
man yu shoulda si yu babylan
how dem really run away
yu shoulda si yu babylan dem dig-up dat dey
dig-up dat dey
dig-up dat dey
it is noh mistri
wi mekkin histri
it is noh mistri
wi winnin victri
now tell mi someting
mistah ritewing man
tell mi someting
how lang yu really feel
wi woulda grovel an squeal
wen soh much murdah canceal
wen wi woun cyaan heal
wen wi feel di way wi feel
feel di way wi feel?
well dere woz Toxteh
an dere woz Moss Side
an a lat a addah places
whey di police ad to hide
well dere woz Brixtan
an dere woz Chapeltoun
an a lat a addah place dat woz burnt to di groun
burnt to di groun
burnt to di groun
it is noh mistri
wi mekkin histri
it is noh mistri
wi winnin victri


is good stuff

Oz

:-*

Oz, if you like Linton then you'll love Benjamin Zephania!
I'm heavily into Reggae, Ragga, Dancehall and Toasting...how about you?

I can`t say i liked that Oz to political for me to one sided i`m afraid.

Hey this is more up my street i enjoyed reading your words Chaz. :)

Fingle that was lovely.  My daughter wrote a poem when she was 13 it was sad but beautifull,that was about a tramp,i must find it tomorrow and post it .
thank you both  :).  Cheers Rosebud.

OZ yes i know its only a poem But there is truth on both sides you must remember that, otherwise it is back to square one again. :(

Nothing personal Oz i do not like the heavy stuff  iam not that type of person.Cheers Rosebud :-*

  Hi Oz get off your soapbox like i said before it happens on both
sides . you are answering my post as tho i am a racist because i am putting my point of view, WHICH IAM MOST CERTAINLY NOT. >:(.
I care for all human beings what ever their race or creed.
now i shall get off my soapbox.
     mary

don't mean to butt in, but didn't think anything in Oz's last post was accusing anyone of racism- just qualifying points he was trying to make before.

And Oz- agree with you on Snow Patrol- currently my fave album

 Ross you are not butting in OZ and i have a little debate from time to time nothing heavy. Rosebud

 My apoligies to you  ;D Rosebud. ::)

On a lighter note...a'erm...

Off the Dole : by KenKew.(circa...about tea-time)

I started mi new job just this morning,
The boss said 'ow 'appy he were.
To see a young fella look 'appy,
To work for so little pay.

Well, when you get down to your uppers,
An' everythin' starts looking bleak,
There's a time when you take a step back'ards,
An' 'appen you turn t'other cheek.

It's not what I'd hoped for I tell you,
For me I 'ad better things planned,
A doctor, a lawer, a surgeon,
Or somethin' as equally grand.

But I do get a free brush an' shovel,
Tho' mi cart 'as a wobb'erly wheel,
I get a cap an' a pair o' green wellies,
An' when I've done I get a free meal.

An the boss is treating me kindly,
He said as 'ow I were new,
The first job he'd decided to give me,
Would be one, an' most folks get two!

I just 'ave to clean up the gutters,
Along a particular road,
Mi map and bags are strapped to the cart,
Which should sort of balance the load.

The map says I start at Scotch Corner,
An' sweep down the left to the end,
I've to pick up bottles wi' brass back,
An' 'alf what I find I can spend.

He'd said as when I got finished,
An' I'd swept to the end of the road,
I'd to empty mi bin, an' clean it wi' Vim,
Swop sides an' begin a new load.

I cleaned up the signs at the road top,
Left 'em all sparkling an' new,
Trimmed off the grass at the bottom,
An' polished the metal posts too.

There were summat in mind that were bothering,
Summat I'd missed that were there,
It were summat that didn't quite feel right,
An' for a minute I just stood standing there.

Still, I'd just about got mi'sen ready,
I'd read t'map an' got out mi brush,
It were then when it suddenly hit me,
It came in a sort of a rush.

The gaffer 'ad given me just one job,
An' I must say he didn't lie,
But nor was he being so kindly,
An' I'll tell you real the reason why.

He told me to go down the left side,
"An' just 'cos I like you, old son,
Stop for some tea when you get there,"
But the road was the ruddy A1.

Great stuff Ken...bet it sounds great read aloud in dialect!
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Dance of Death

Grandad went to Northern France
where he learned the latest dance,
khaki dancers out of breath
doing the glorious dance of death.

Swing your rifles dose-e-doe,
over the top and off you go,
on the barbed wire kicking high...
men, like shirts hung out to dry.

Hair today....gone tomorrow.

I don't have a passion
for the pony-tailed fashion,
a crew cut will suit me just fine...
though it may be the fact
that short-sided-and-backed
detracts from my high forehead line:
since my follicles stopped forming
I've missed lobal warming
and the draught round my ears makes me whine;
well, ok I'll admit..
that I'm thinning a bit....
but at least what I've got is all mine!

Who would believe we could have such a lot of talent in A4a.

 Great poem KK i read it to myself in Yorkshire mode very amusing.

'Off the Dole' only works in Yorkshire mode.

Anyone seen my effort - 'Tablets of Stone' (Moses goes walk-about?)

PS: Anyone got a subject they'd like to see 'versified', 'ruined', 'took to bits', or just played with? Nothing like a challange to keep the brain working.