A Moment in Time

A Moment in Time

The Light Of Another Day

The Light Of Another Day

Dreaming in the forest

Dreaming in the forest

INDEPENDENCE DAY

Independence Day

History and politics have always fascinated me in some way, from trying to understand man’s lust for greed, to realising the reasons for man’s downfall over the years since history has been recorded.

If we look back and see the Empires that have been dominant over the years from British, Chinese, German, Greek, Roman, and Russian, naming but a few over ancient to present, with American democratic power, we have seen the changes of man, but a lot comes down to the same criteria ‘Greed’, until another power decides they have had enough and want either their independence or want it all for themselves. 

This evolution appears to be running at a rate where the inevitable could be upon the human race and sooner than we expect.

Independence Day

This is the year of 1776

When America got out of a fix,

Getting independence from Britain

From then, they shall reign.

From natives shooting with bow and arrow

To guns, bombs and from banks to borrow,

This modern day they are a power to all

But from a great height they will one day fall.

Like any kingdom they celebrate their day

With a celebration they shout loudly “hooray!”

Banging their drums and blowing their bugles

To this day with their Facebooks and Googles.

Even sending rockets and men to the moon

Hoping they could live there one day soon.

But now as the money begins to run out  

The East is catching up fast with a clout.

Look at the meaning of Independence Day

Does it sound so sinister in some way?

As other countries try to compete

To battle with all, could end in defeat.

           **********

SLAVE

I wrote this poem was after watching a film called  'A Slave for 12 years.' And although this was very racially motivated in the past in particular; there has been an increase of using vulnerable people of all races including vulnerable British, of all ages, who haven't been able to stand up for themselves and fight back.

Bashed and bruised physically and mentally
scarred by my tormentors through eternity.
Sound of drunken laughter from other man,
trying to out-do others the best way he can.

The best production at only my cost,
picking cotton to see other lives lost.
The evil of man pushing others in such a way,
with chains and whips in the heat of the day.

Blood seeping scars in the sun light,
I feel the maggots move during the night,
then told to entertain the guest with laughter,
A mere slave I remain the day after.

As my body grows old and I know the score,
my soul has now gone, I cannot live any more.

********

LACE CAP

 

 An inspiration from a tree of white flowers

Blossoming in the months May and June.

Shading me from the hot summer sun,

I sit listening to a bird whistling a tune.

 

This tree or bush many would argue

I call the Umbrella or Parasol tree,

With beams of sunlight shining through

onto your fine face smiling at me.

 

Sparkling ripples from the nearby brook

babble across the pebbles so fine,

with white petals falling like snow

on your fair skin with red lips like wine.

 

While I sit writing this poem so refined

inspired from this tree in my mind.

 

 

*****

10th Anniversary

Ten years it has been

since I walked out that door,

when I decided it was time 

to be an engineer no more.

Times had changed at my works

the spirit gone to consultants,

we were becoming motivated

by strategies from incumbents.

Using our old muscles and minds

getting metal splinters cuts and grazes,

with oily rags, dirt and dust

 getting work done like the blazes.

A rollicking from the foreman

if the job was incomplete,

keep the production ticking over

after hours standing on concrete.

My job, being a physical one

bending metal on the fly press,

forging metal in the fire

my temper heated, I confess.

Then I would hear the lunch bell 

only half the day it felt slow,

as my final day approached

I just couldn't wait to go. 

Yes! We would have some fun

with games of cards, darts, football,

plus the occasional social drink

until we heard the gaffers' call.

Out through the factory gates

I looked behind to reflect,

those thirty years of graft

I leave with some respect.

Now the tenth anniversary

since that time in May,

when I collected my belongings

with not so much to say.

That one final farewell visit

 to that old nostalgic place,

I said cheerio for the last time

with the widest smile on my face.

*****