Waiting for the bus that never comes
does this bus stop here says the man
should be here soon says the lady
look at that sign says the child
the child is right says the passer by
the bus isn't going this way today
what will we do say them all
walk with me says the walking man
Oh well, they do say exercise is good for you - no pain, no gain and all that nice one.
Me? the problem is, I tend to flit from one thing to another - I don't really have a great concentration sometimes. I did buy a wordsearch magazine last month but I've only done some of them
"Peace for our time" said Neville Chamberlain
on return from his meeting with "Herr Hitler."
A piece of paper fluttered in the air of Heston.
"Peace" meant nothing like he had saught
of course as war history so horribly tells;
false assurance is what your confidence
trickster always smoothly and slyly sells.
The poor PM had bearded, he thought,
that dragon in his den, but its dimmed
flame, neatly trimmed,simply lured him in;
would blacken Nev’s name and ruin once
fine career and reputation. Confidence was
misplaced in this appeasement, it is our time
for good old Winston, called a grateful nation.
I'm going all political here (if thats ok?) - apologies but its been on my mind. I'd hoped for snappier lines and more rhymes but this was all I could seem to come up with - it sounded about right in my head, hopefully I have wording that makes some sense?. Boy I'll be glad when the big day (Sept. 18th) is over with(!), hoping there's a 'no' vote *crosses fingers*
Vote No
All the shouting and back biting,
political machinations
are nothing but a put off,
concerns not fully addressed,
please can we get back to the basics -
there's so much at stake.
In my country I am proud,
and wish for only the best,
the future I hope is bright
but uncertainties worry me so -
focus on that which we hold dear,
please do not take things for granted,
for guarantees and promises may not hold true.
The answers we crave may be elusive;
and so it is, that I wish to implore on all Scots eligible,
don't risk our countries future,
vote no confidently, for our own sakes.
Why do I let you overwhelm me?
why?
can I not face you for what you truly are -
not a person,
nor a villain - tall, dark and looming,
an evil waiting to strike,
but words and concepts over analysed ad nauseum -
built up into some invisible forcefield of shame -
one self imposed, with an almightily disappointing.
Fear can hit in so many forms,
I want to stand up to you, as if you really were real
and ask why it is I see you, an excuse allowing me
to presume,
to supposedly 'self defend',
to cower down to you
and presume you to be real -
to be the finger pointing my way when a mistake is made,
the ever present stare representing judgements surely made,
silent thoughts of criticism,
everyone makes them,
I'm but a slave to my preconceptions.
Heaven forbid I'm challenged on what I feel,
another criticism only hits deeper -
Surely I can do better than this?
Why can I not take the leap,
take control back again,
not allow preconceived notions,
to prevent me from attempting to achieve,
to improve, to search for my potential,
presumptions run wild, limitations seem clear -
no,
I can't,
I won't!
fear, worries, concerns,
the potency of the 'what if...?'
these are my enemies that strike from within.
Wow, the thread's rocking again! I may not have time to read everything in my alloted library hour today - if not, I'll catch up on Monday
Hi mr.mustard - someone was asking after you, the other day, in another thread. I said you'd posted here - I take it you've been (or will be) in touch? I'll see if I can check who it was.
We saw the tearful prayers for flight,
The terrible alarm
That quickly spread and yet despite
The ship's condition on the night
We played, remaining calm.
The captain passed us, but beneath
His stoic look I sensed
A shaken man who'd lost belief,
While our performance would be brief,
With vigour it commenced.
When water rose and panic crept,
To comfort some we hoped,
Our playing soothed a few except
The wives who screamed as husbands leapt
Until the deck was sloped.
We gazed above at stars galore,
By music strongly bound,
We shared a final thought of awe
And in the violent crashing roar
Our melodies were drowned.
Hi mr.mustard - someone was asking after you, the other day, in another thread. I said you'd posted here - I take it you've been (or will be) in touch? I'll see if I can check who it was.
Ta Izzy - I've answered the poster and commented on the epic poem on the thread
I think a lot of people will associate with this write, I know I did.
Thanks
I just wrote this -
While We're Asleep by IzzyS
What takes place,
while we're alseep -
does God retain,
our soul to keep?
for the outcome of the nocturnal battle,
when innocence is king and duly fought over,
are we judged and a decision made -
will we see another day?.
Within these times of true slumber,
does a revelation take place - never remembered but ever present,
where people appear as they truly are,
where our true humanity is laid bare,
and its but a match of wits and our strength of passion,
for our future, our longing, our direction and ultimate drive,
with the knowledge of our tainted past,
upon which a decision is made -
Will we be allowed to go free,
our soul returned
and our eyelids awoken to another day -
will we win the nightly battle?.
The dinners I attempt go for a Burton,
I cannot bake a pie or scramble eggs
And even with a blender I am certain
The soup would turn into disgusting dregs.
I haven't got a wife to conjure sauces,
I haven't got a girl to stir soufflés,
Which means I'm left to my own weak resources;
The microwave and local take-aways.
Thank god I don't eat meat, what use is mustard
On steak tough as old boots and overdone?
The very thought of stuffing gets me flustered,
I'd rather munch a sticky currant bun.
A TV dinner on a comfy settee
Is better than the mess from pans I scoop,
Delightful meals like pasta and spaghetti
Resemble steaming piles of orange gloop.
The kitchen I have always failed to govern;
Potatoes in their jackets end up duds,
When I left two on all night in the oven
Black hand grenades came out instead of spuds.
And Christmas pudding hopes were sadly thwarted,
I cooked it right, I didn't use a wok
But then the spoon I stuck in it distorted,
The thing was like a bloody concrete block.
The taste of runner beans I tend to stifle,
Where's Delia? I need some urgent tips,
I've murdered every noodle, cake and trifle;
From now on I'll be buying fish and chips.
A marvellous questioning piece Izzy To quote Morrissey - 'Sleep is the brother of death'. It's always fascinated me, especially dreams. I've written a couple of poems on the subject myself, including The Citadel of Sleep.
The dinners I attempt go for a Burton,
I cannot bake a pie or scramble eggs
And even with a blender I am certain
The soup would turn into disgusting dregs.
I haven't got a wife to conjure sauces,
I haven't got a girl to stir soufflés,
Which means I'm left to my own weak resources;
The microwave and local take-aways.
Thank god I don't eat meat, what use is mustard
On steak tough as old boots and overdone?
The very thought of stuffing gets me flustered,
I'd rather munch a sticky currant bun.
A TV dinner on a comfy settee
Is better than the mess from pans I scoop,
Delightful meals like pasta and spaghetti
Resemble steaming piles of orange gloop.
The kitchen I have always failed to govern;
Potatoes in their jackets end up duds,
When I left two on all night in the oven
Black hand grenades came out instead of spuds.
And Christmas pudding hopes were sadly thwarted,
I cooked it right, I didn't use a wok
But then the spoon I stuck in it distorted,
The thing was like a bloody concrete block.
The taste of runner beans I tend to stifle,
Where's Delia? I need some urgent tips,
I've murdered every noodle, cake and trifle;.
Comments
Oh well, they do say exercise is good for you - no pain, no gain and all that
Sometimes the mind doesn't get tired - thats the scary thing
Me? the problem is, I tend to flit from one thing to another - I don't really have a great concentration sometimes. I did buy a wordsearch magazine last month but I've only done some of them
"Peace for our time" said Neville Chamberlain
on return from his meeting with "Herr Hitler."
A piece of paper fluttered in the air of Heston.
"Peace" meant nothing like he had saught
of course as war history so horribly tells;
false assurance is what your confidence
trickster always smoothly and slyly sells.
The poor PM had bearded, he thought,
that dragon in his den, but its dimmed
flame, neatly trimmed,simply lured him in;
would blacken Nev’s name and ruin once
fine career and reputation. Confidence was
misplaced in this appeasement, it is our time
for good old Winston, called a grateful nation.
Vote No
All the shouting and back biting,
political machinations
are nothing but a put off,
concerns not fully addressed,
please can we get back to the basics -
there's so much at stake.
In my country I am proud,
and wish for only the best,
the future I hope is bright
but uncertainties worry me so -
focus on that which we hold dear,
please do not take things for granted,
for guarantees and promises may not hold true.
The answers we crave may be elusive;
and so it is, that I wish to implore on all Scots eligible,
don't risk our countries future,
vote no confidently, for our own sakes.
Why do I let you overwhelm me?
why?
can I not face you for what you truly are -
not a person,
nor a villain - tall, dark and looming,
an evil waiting to strike,
but words and concepts over analysed ad nauseum -
built up into some invisible forcefield of shame -
one self imposed, with an almightily disappointing.
Fear can hit in so many forms,
I want to stand up to you, as if you really were real
and ask why it is I see you, an excuse allowing me
to presume,
to supposedly 'self defend',
to cower down to you
and presume you to be real -
to be the finger pointing my way when a mistake is made,
the ever present stare representing judgements surely made,
silent thoughts of criticism,
everyone makes them,
I'm but a slave to my preconceptions.
Heaven forbid I'm challenged on what I feel,
another criticism only hits deeper -
Surely I can do better than this?
Why can I not take the leap,
take control back again,
not allow preconceived notions,
to prevent me from attempting to achieve,
to improve, to search for my potential,
presumptions run wild, limitations seem clear -
no,
I can't,
I won't!
fear, worries, concerns,
the potency of the 'what if...?'
these are my enemies that strike from within.
> :kitty:
Wow, the thread's rocking again! I may not have time to read everything in my alloted library hour today - if not, I'll catch up on Monday
Hi mr.mustard - someone was asking after you, the other day, in another thread. I said you'd posted here - I take it you've been (or will be) in touch? I'll see if I can check who it was.
ETA - it was benjamini, see:- http://forums.digitalspy.co.uk/showthread.php?p=74501676&highlight=#post74501676
I've PMed incase you miss this post today. Don't mind me
We saw the tearful prayers for flight,
The terrible alarm
That quickly spread and yet despite
The ship's condition on the night
We played, remaining calm.
The captain passed us, but beneath
His stoic look I sensed
A shaken man who'd lost belief,
While our performance would be brief,
With vigour it commenced.
When water rose and panic crept,
To comfort some we hoped,
Our playing soothed a few except
The wives who screamed as husbands leapt
Until the deck was sloped.
We gazed above at stars galore,
By music strongly bound,
We shared a final thought of awe
And in the violent crashing roar
Our melodies were drowned.
©
Nice poem Sandy :kitty:
See you soon my friends :kitty:
:cool:
Good to know you're ok
Your welcome.
Quite. I don't much care for Salmond either but hey-ho - politics(!) gah.
Thanks
I just wrote this -
While We're Asleep by IzzyS
What takes place,
while we're alseep -
does God retain,
our soul to keep?
for the outcome of the nocturnal battle,
when innocence is king and duly fought over,
are we judged and a decision made -
will we see another day?.
Within these times of true slumber,
does a revelation take place - never remembered but ever present,
where people appear as they truly are,
where our true humanity is laid bare,
and its but a match of wits and our strength of passion,
for our future, our longing, our direction and ultimate drive,
with the knowledge of our tainted past,
upon which a decision is made -
Will we be allowed to go free,
our soul returned
and our eyelids awoken to another day -
will we win the nightly battle?.
The dinners I attempt go for a Burton,
I cannot bake a pie or scramble eggs
And even with a blender I am certain
The soup would turn into disgusting dregs.
I haven't got a wife to conjure sauces,
I haven't got a girl to stir soufflés,
Which means I'm left to my own weak resources;
The microwave and local take-aways.
Thank god I don't eat meat, what use is mustard
On steak tough as old boots and overdone?
The very thought of stuffing gets me flustered,
I'd rather munch a sticky currant bun.
A TV dinner on a comfy settee
Is better than the mess from pans I scoop,
Delightful meals like pasta and spaghetti
Resemble steaming piles of orange gloop.
The kitchen I have always failed to govern;
Potatoes in their jackets end up duds,
When I left two on all night in the oven
Black hand grenades came out instead of spuds.
And Christmas pudding hopes were sadly thwarted,
I cooked it right, I didn't use a wok
But then the spoon I stuck in it distorted,
The thing was like a bloody concrete block.
The taste of runner beans I tend to stifle,
Where's Delia? I need some urgent tips,
I've murdered every noodle, cake and trifle;
From now on I'll be buying fish and chips.
©
A marvellous questioning piece Izzy
One day I will come in here and read more of them.
I'm a big Ivor Cutler fan, also many more.
I love Ivor Cutler too, he was in The Beatles' Magical Mystery Tour film :kitty:
Didn't know that. They have been doing a lot of his stuff in 4 extra. Love his voice. Completly bonkers in a lovely way.