Iliterate Poet

A dumping ground for my works in progress.

8 Mar 2011

Equinox Dreams

Political strife is critically rife
At what cost is freedom right?
Human life, humanities fight
Forgiveness can heal!
Mercy protector: a bullet reflector.

Global elite drumming their beat.
Propaganda's tune,
The music of a loon.
We will feel the effects, very soon.

One world, one love,
not one world and sell the dove.
Profit last, Humanity first
Corporations driving the Hearse
On faux golden Highways, of the perverse.

Time to reverse or turn around, change direction.
Rid ourselves of this viral infection.
Pay Bridget, with the milk from ewes
Spring festivals and heady revelry
Art, poetry and music, creating carrier waves
to modulate the minds and set us free.

Fun and frolic should be penciled in
Absorbing - feel the love this spring
Bathe in falls of harmony and unity
Rid the World of its perpetual lunacy.
For you and me, I hope you see
What life could really, potentially be.




Lonely Street

White doves with mud on their wings
No bird song sings
Complicity in the silence stings
Peoples worn out slings
Blood red rose buds
Blown to bits with missile scuds
Brave slave
Child's despair
As bodies lay strewn 
on streets that don’t care.

5 Mar 2011

Mocking World

To kill a mocking world
A story of profitable greed
brokers taking the lead
Trying to top the league
Fear is spread and so are bets
Then come the order for fighter jets
And all the time singing out
It's just the way it is - grab yours!
Trees are falling faster than living standards
The lungs are ripped from earth's chest
I do not jest, have we chosen the best?
Addicted like crack to plastic bits of tack
Will the Planet, ever win its respect back?
A tale from old that is told and told.
Civilisations from times gone
didn't believe it could be done
We have the tools to choose
Consumer views, it's big news
World can win or world can lose.
So go ahead, buy that fifty fifth pair of shoes.

3 Mar 2011

It's Elementary

To balance the unbalanced
And provide the wet to the dry
Create with elements rearranged
Not simply arranged on empirical plains
Sometimes disarranged.
The elements were happy in their state
They'd tell you if you'd listen, They'd say:
"We're quite in order, thank you very much!"
Place them in the fiery cup
until they're too hot to touch
Watch their cries entangling
And their impurities cast aside
Mixed up and born a new
Another combination to add to the zoo
The elements number few
They make up me and you.
Perfected in their original state.
A mountain, a flower, or a lake
Because, we, all of us, pretty patterns make
But as I want to create:
I will Arrange, disarrange and rearrange
and if that seems abstract or strange
Happy to explain in a personal exchange.

27 Feb 2011

Fiery Maiden

The fiery maiden could not pretend;
To trust the handsome man in the end.
She told him: "Let us not pretend;
That you have love to send, it's all about your end."
The man replied, "This love is not a guise;
I wear no mask, now look into my eyes.
"
Furnace heat from a look that could cook.
Her stern cold eyes did melt in surprise;
Molten smiles did now appear;
Stretched right from ear to ear!
Fiery maiden with lips ablaze;
Quenched in a watery future gaze, made her see!
The handsome man, was seeing two or three.
He of course denied, this womaniser sighed:
"I'm telling the truth, your so damn hot."
But fiery maiden had heard enough;
She owned self respect and told him: "Tough;
Punk you're out of luck, I want more than just a casual ****!"

25 Feb 2011

Song Lyrics

The following are Lyrics to a song that hasn't been composed yet. Because some of my followers expressed a wish to hear these lyrics in a completed song form - I thought I would post them here for people to view. If anyone: composers, musicians or the like, wish to take-up the challenge, that would be magnificent. Leave a comment, let me know what you think, thanks :)


Something gotta change today
deep Inside the system is dead
People are crying
for loved ones that are dying
Nothing gonna change without pain
Nothing sacred, my slave child set free

Hypocrisy rife, struggle and strife, only one life
And now is the time, to spread our wings
to end all the things that stop us being kings
Rule domain, living without Pain
Just simple and peaceful, we are the people

Something gotta change today
deep Inside the system is dead
People are crying
for loved ones that are dying
Nothing gonna change without pain
Nothing sacred, my slave child set free

And the world is burning and smoke smells of freedom
And the corpses of bravery will not go by in vain
For we the common people will eternally reign
And when finally, they get the message that we all abstain
Then they might run for fear of life
and we would have no more sacrifice.

Something gotta change today
deep Inside the system is dead
People are crying
for loved ones that are dying
Nothing gonna change without pain
Nothing sacred, my slave child set free

And the strife and the struggle will be all but gone
And the shadowy pirates will get there dues
For the common people will take no more
and the common people of the World will unite
and in that unity, your fate is sealed.
We the common people will never yield.

Something gotta change today
deep Inside the system is dead
People are crying
for loved ones that are dying
Nothing gonna change without pain
Nothing sacred, my slave child set free

24 Feb 2011

Everything Happens For A Reason

Everything happens for a reason
Be sure of this fact and in this very act
Your mind is free to soar in the sky
beyond the stars to a land of treasures
Where merry spirits find peaceful play
Where weary weathers never stay
And destinations have no ends
The journey is the life my friends
Everything happens for a reason
So have no regret etched in your heart
Because the past, was but, just the start.
Find this land of golden clouds
Full of silver linings. Gently now we tread.
Tapestry of life, enjoying every thread.
Living out your life, to the fullest bloom
Come soon, to a land of no regrets
Where everything happens for a reason.

Sycophantic Spies

Surrounded by sycophantic spies
Some would call them guides
Others: Safeguards of the system
Influence-rs of an artistic mind
Are they ill meaning or are they kind?
Do I swallow their lines, do I repeat
Do I sing along to their beat?
I'll use my brain in the fast lane
If their lines fail and are lame
I'll choose to refrain, to remain sane.
Do they harbour resent? not to my face!
Do they think, that I don't recognise
Truths wrapped up in sycophantic lies
Do they only care about the race?
Hasten the pace! My mind is MY place.
I'll choose my own truth and my own line.
Told you before I am not the fine, the swine
Not A Guan, to be played at will,
Conduct orchestras with my quill
Fighting for the people, to relieve their cries
Not sycophantic peoples lies.

20 Feb 2011

Great Firewall Burning

Chinese Government: Statu quo;
Involved in repression,
Of freedom's thought;
Through distorted court, they ply their trade.
As they invade, mind, body and soul;
Scared to lose control,
A few ruling the whole.
Shackle that brain they do exclaim!
Ball and chain clinking,
Great firewall burning!
It's freedom they’re earning.
Standing up against the STATE of things,
These are intelligent human beings.
A few can't control the many;
Brave warrior souls with pen in hand,
Their writings are never bland,
So keep on writing to free your land.
Freedom fighting is always right.
Please keep this in sight;
Bringing light to your country's plight.

Standing

We stand for everything
We stand for nothing
Infinitely better than just sitting,
Waiting for your lot.
We seek a cause
We effect a change
Infinitely better than blindly accepting
We do as we feel
We use intuitions wheel.
Infinitely better than living someone Else's spin.

19 Feb 2011

Dissent

If only you would allow me
the freedom from dissent
but your intention was eyed
and we know what you meant.
Decent, dissent, against the bent
Crooked twisted and contorted
You thought you had it sorted
This message sent from
the heart of dissent.
We won't allow your putrid stench
nor your stain upon our brow
This is a fair and just row
So take your sticks and carrots too.
For the majority will rule the few.

Sculptor's Magic

Squash, Squish, Chop, slice, dig
Add, remove, repeat over and over
Squash, Squish, chop, slice, dig
Hollow, break to avoid a break
Detail, detail, fine detail, finer detail
Squash, squish, chop, slice, dig
Wet, dry, wet, dry, cover with plastic
Slog, grog, slog, grog, clay, powder, mud
Squash, squish, chop, slice , dig.
The magic of a master sculptor, laid bare.

15 Feb 2011

Thief

You can steal my poems, but not my creativity
You'll try to say they're yours, though it isn't so
But I'll write fifty more, right in front of your eyes
I'll write about the lack of creativity and your lies
With pen and ink, i'll mark your card, fraudster bard
And by the time, i am done writing, having fun
You'll turn on your cowardly heels and run, run, run.
So steal what you like, you'll never be me, slimy, slippery;
weaselly thief, my words will knock out, your shiny teeth. 
This is my conclusion and your brief: broken shattered thief!

14 Feb 2011

A Letter To A Patron

Won't you Pay me in: Krugerrands, diamonds or kindness?
So that I may come and go by shadowy moonlight.
Take flight when I please, freely travel where I like
By night I shall leave and in the morning fog, return.
As I travel; lighting darkened, extravagant golden walkways
Meeting, Influencing; strangers that wield a powerful axe.
With coffers filled and mission set,cultivating humanness
So don't give me cheques or useless bits of paper.
For services rendered, another heart surrendered.
No pass controls to slow me down, no red tape and no blue too.
Won't you pay me in Krugerrands, diamonds or kindness.
Without them, stranded on a dried out lake, high rolling seas are calling.
Sailing the winds without a boat, swimming in water, but its just a moat.
If only someone would vote and agree to give me a float.
A Boat! A boat! My loyalty for a boat.

13 Feb 2011

List Of Well-Known Artists, That I Admire

Rembrant
Pablo Picasso
Van gogh
Monet
Cézanne
Gauguin
Jackson Pollock
Wassily Kandinsky
Arshile Gorky
Franz Kline
Mark Rothko
James McNeill Whistler
f John Constable
J M W Turner
Camille Corot
Edvard Munch
James Ensor
Hilma af Klint
Piet Mondrian
Georges Seurat
Henri Matisse
Georges Braque
André Derain
Raoul Dufy
Maurice de Vlaminck
Fernand Léger
Juan Gris
Albert Gleizes
Marcel Duchamp
Kurt Schwitters
Man Ray
Robert and Sonia Delaunay
František Kupka
Kasimir Malevich
Liubov Popova
Piet Mondrian
Vladimir Tatlin
Kazimir Malevich
Anton Pevsner
Naum Gabo
Paul Klee
Johannes Itten
Josef Albers
Anni Albers
Theo van Doesburg
Laszlo Moholy-Nagy
Sophie Tauber
Jean Arp
Katarzyna Kobro
Michel Seuphor
Joan Miró
Barbara Hepworth
Ben Nicholson
Jacques Lipchitz
Max Ernst
André Breton
Georgia O'Keeffe
John D. Graham
Hans Hofmann
Willem de Kooning
Barnett Newman
John McLaughlin
Agnes Martin
Robert Motherwell
Patrick Heron
Kenneth Noland
Sam Francis
Cy Twombly
Richard Diebenkorn
Helen Frankenthaler
Joan Mitchell
Eugene delacroix

Waiting at the side of the road

I am watching and I'm on the side of the road
I'm waiting and deciding which way to go
I'm looking for the right vehicle to stop and hitch a ride
North or south, east or west, travel all directions I find it's best
On my journey and on the quest I seek not one direction, as I choose the rest.
and if I come across you on my way, guaranteed I'll treat you with dignity
because I'm watching and I'm waiting on the side of the road
No cross ways in my path, no folk in road, no divergence from the path.
I'll just be over here watching and waiting, whilst travelling

My Girl

The girl that never asked for a thing
The girl that gave her all
She didn't want attention to fulfill her
She didn't care or sweat the nothing things
And when she was up against it all
Facing death head on, with a great big smile
This girl was classy, so much style
She deserved the World and a whole lot more.
She was beautiful: skin and right through to the core

10 Feb 2011

Lost Moments

This Poem was the result of a collaboration with Well known Stage and Jazz photographer, Juan Carlos Hernandez. Juan asked me to look through his photographic archive and write a poem if I was inspired too. The image I choose was one that he had taken back in 2009. I could have chosen many of his Photographs, for inspiration; they are all very inspiring and amazing images. Here is the link to the Photograph:  http://juancarloshernandezphotographe.blogspot.com/2009/08/stolen-moments.html


Encased, within enveloping Time-Spatial Curves
Cosmic ray showers, fade as Muons decay
Swallowed whole, in that great ocean of sands
Likened to the silence, in-between Musical notes
Memory evokes such, wonderfully fond tales;
Cheap impersonations, that hardly fill the void;
Of stolen moments in, transitory Manifestation.
Hustle and bustle, tempered by the mild gentle wind.
Ebbing and flowing, toing and froing.
Untouched by even, the most severest, of frost.
A young boy never standing still, a childhood lost.
A moppet's memory, of scented meadows, freshly cut.
The way the scent fades, as the years pass.
Those treasured moments never seem to last.
Chasing them is a pointless and thankless task;
And as the Grand 'Ammon's horn', starts to stir and trip
On Neptune's vehicle in the high seas of the Hippocampus
Click, click, Clack, there's only one logical fact.
Steal your future back, Conjure up: 'Omnipresent Style',
Live, every waking instant, as if it were your last.
Fill all of those, pilfered Flashes, with moments; worth stealing.
Too busy fashioning, to look back, creating stolen moments;
That's the task, and that will always last, this kind of trice is always nice.
So the choice is yours: Celebrate or Regret: "Stolen Moments."
Though - as you swoosh on through; Fleeting, flashes;
Cherish and adore, as the phenomenology does unfold,
For, surely this: the very definition, of purest Gold.

7 Feb 2011

The sculptor's regret

She was almost nearly there
Her pursed lips and rye smile
Her grace and slender style
She was almost nearly there
Her prominent cheeks
Her sensual frown.
She was almost nearly there
Her soft gentle eyes,
Her lids hiding lies
And she was, oh-so nearly there.
It was her chin that failed to win me over
And as I tried to slice her guise
Her form was forever lost.
She was almost nearly here.

Splashed Around

I smashed down and splashed around
on a stretched, tensioned board
I abhorred what appeared, amazed by the colour
Intrigued by the form and the journey of up and downs
Then all of a sudden the image clears,
the muddy fuzzy canvas, held full of light
And a slight satisfaction fills your brim
If only one could let it dry
frozen in that time.
But the picture goes on
back down to murky depths.

On Marks, Get Ready, Set.

If you keep on yearning, wishing you were deserving
Then you'll keep on learning, just pain and regret.
On marks, get ready, set, it hasn't happened yet
Racing, chasing more of the same, how insane.
It won't be better in the end, let's not pretend.
Dreams with dirty and broken seams, achieved!
So now what? You start again further up the track
On marks, get ready, set, it still hasn't happened yet.
More dreams to attain to satisfy this unsatisfied brain.
Futile dreams that offer no respite, provide no insight.
Keep on journeying, pointlessly, instead of sitting still.

6 Feb 2011

Oh Dear

Give 'm what they want.
Don't give em nothing!
Show em the way.
Don't be so arrogant!
Sell yourself.
Sellout yourself!
Give 'm what they want.
Give 'm nothing!
Oh dear!???

Keep the Mystic

Keep the Mystic
But I just want to speak!
Keep the mystic
Familiarity breeds contempt
But I just want to speak.
Look you'll blow if they know you
We're all never as perfect as the image we portray
We betray it everyday day, so don't speak, stay away
Mystic or speak? speak or mystic?
I just want to speak.

Words Grrrr

I hate words and
Words hate me.
We tolerate each other;
Mutually beneficial but
don't make the mistake
of thinking we're friends
I hate words and
words hate me.
We live in a democracy;
Me and my words
Me on the side of facts.
Them on the side of rhyme.
I hate words and
Words hate me.

Keep Stum, Act Dumb

I might write about non-controversial things
Let things pass-by, keep stum, act dumb
I will never be wrong, I'll never risk a thing
Won't think about the World or the people
I could go shopping or for a walk in the wood.
I would never again, be misunderstood.
I might write about the safety net
Won't mention current or real issues
Will never again require tissues
I might never even write again
After all, this type of writing is lame,
No viewers, not in the game.
A none Player in a none game, I must be insane.
I obviously haven't got a brain, wrapped up in chains
Hand me the key and I'll lock it for you.
I might never write again.

Tick-Tock Tyrant Fall

It's not so important; what time a Tyrant falls
The process and the system, that helps build secure walls
The fight is won, his time is done, but perhaps he won't run.
Maybe it'll take awhile, transition in Mubarak style.
But People, don't feel defeated, the tyrant's toppled, of that be sure.
There's an altogether bigger issue, keeping processes in mind and in situ
We want to secure solidarity, right through, from west to east
Democracy the tool, to deliver a relative peace for all.
Tolerance and understanding, the name of the game.
This: empathetic people, is how we can remain
Celebrate our differences, keep deep within our hearts,
the unwavering Truth, of unity and dignity, of rights and freedom for all.
So, hold up your scales high, to balance; extremity with equality.
Replace fear with courage, to understand, we're all human, in every land
We're not all that different, you know? Even though, our egos might deny it's so.
An enormous task: to break from the past - the time to build, a future to last.

3 Feb 2011

One Step Closer

Not much to show for a life
The left over Worldly goods
All Gold gilded and crystalline
Shiny and fun, rare and treasured.

But how exactly is value measured?

Not much to show for a life
The left over Worldly goods
Just a pair of old working boots
Dirty and trodden, common and undesired.

But how exactly is value measured?

Not much to show for a life
No way of knowing good deeds passed.
Undesired treasure, it won't last.
Because in the end,  it's all the same.

I'll tell you how value is measured!

Good deeds and thoughts live on.
Deed recognition, is not your task,
peoples hearts and minds make deeds last.
So they may say about you, on your final day
"It's not much to show for a life"
But you won't care, because you lived, whilst you were here
and your good deeds spread from gen to gen.
And the World takes one step closer.

Falling Flowers and New Born Seeds

The flowers fall at midnight
and new seeds are set to sow
Gentle breezes morphing into gusts
Change is set to blow, clearing, remaining dust.
Culling and pruning on a windy wasteland
Waiting with palm turned to air, catching
Flowers and rose stems, thorns trying to hold on.
Cutting, spiking, spearing thorns, spitting blood.
When morning arises out of the ashes
blood tides stemmed and peace returns.

2 Feb 2011

Mubarak's Boys

Mubarak's boys move into the street
Thugs roaming free like hurricane fools
Last resorts of a desperate 'has-been'.
Mubarak your days are numbered
A generation behind and a worn out mind
Wall-less Cities, populated by empathetic people
Differences accepted with gentle mood
Live and let live, live and let love, love and live.
Mubarak, they're not your people, they are simply: 'people'.
Time is ticking daily, Mubarak don't delay.
Do the World a favour, in Egypt do not stay!
Mubarak's boys are on the streets
They're beating peaceful People down;
and an army made of stone, look on with stony faces.
Tying their laces, combing their hair, don't they care?!
Complacent, complicit fools, regime tools!
Mubarak, there's still exile, grab it whilst you can.
Quick Mubarak run, the people have spoken
Two million feet trampling, on toward freedom
And a World full of keyboards, typing support.
We're living in a new World, where Tyrants don't run free.
We're living in a free World, where people want to be.
We're living and we're breathing change, on winds: wild and free.

31 Jan 2011

In Sands Of Cairo Lay (Lyrics) - 'Fields of Anthenry', Adaptation/ Re-write



I wanted to do something to honour the brave Egyptians that have fallen in the name of Freedom, Humanity and dignity. I have re-written/Adapted the lyrics to 'Fields of Athenry.', and named it 'In Sands of Cairo lay'. I have also added an extra verse. If any of the musician talents out there, wish to finalise the composition, (not far off the original - just possibly needs tweaking; or maybe you can put your own style to it), If you want to record it, Let me know, would be nice to hear it.


 I have 'not' re-written these lyrics 'lightly', and in no way, am I taking away from the original work and its meaning and context to many people - in particular the Irish (Half Irish Myself), if anything it pays homage to the song: the fact that I choose this over any other. In my opinion the musical composition, perfectly captures the meaning that I wanted to express with my lyrics. The original version was written in the middle of the 1970's by Pete St. John (real name Peter Mooney). Here is Peter Mooney's website, if you would like to go and thank him, for creating one of the best songs, that ever saw the light of day http://www.petestjohn.com/contact/




Here's the music . . .well - some of it
http://www.ireland-information.com/downloads/midi/thefieldsofathenry.mid



I couldn't get hold of a good instrumental cover, would have chosen a harp or pan pipes or maybe the Egyptian Oud. The link above is to a very rudimentary mobile/ cell phone tune - Hit play and sing along, the music will finish before the lyrics, sorry if you were blasting it out. We The People -  Stand by you and support your fight for freedom, from oppression. United we stand, in every land.


Title: In Sands of Cairo lay



By a lonely coffin hole
I heard a young girl crying
Brother, They are taking you away
For you Spoke Mubarak's scorn
So your young might see the morn
Now a final procession carries you away

Chorus

Low lie, in the sands of Cairo lay
Where once we watched the small bennu bird fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely in the sands of Cairo - sigh

 
By a lonely coffin hole
I saw a young boy sleeping
Nothing matters my wife, when your free
Against the Famine and the Crown
I rebelled they ran me down
Now you must raise our child with dignity.

Chorus

Low lie, in the sands of Cairo sigh
Where once we watched the small bennu bird fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely in the sands of Cairo - sigh


By a lonely shallow grave
She watch the last star falling
As your freedom ship sailed up into the sky
Sure she'll mourn and hope and pray
For her love has gone away
It's so lonely in the sands of Cairo - sigh
It's so lonely in the sands of Cairo - sigh
[Music stops here but should carry on]

Chorus


Low lie, in the sands of Cairo lay
Where once we watched the small bennu bird fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely in the sands of Cairo - sigh


By a lonely cold morgue
I saw a phoenix rising
Sister, They are taking you away
For you Stole Mubarak's corn
So your young might see the morn
Now a final procession carries you away
For a finer future, that you helped to lay.

Chorus

Low lie, in the sands of Cairo lay
Where once we watched the small bennu bird fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely in the sands of Cairo - sigh


Lyrics by: Gwylym Owen with the help of some of Petes amazing Lyrics that I left in as the essence of the song..







Not sure how accurate this Egyptian Translation, Anyone - is welcome to improve it and i'll update it.

العنوان : في رمال القاهرة يكمن بواسطة ثقب نعش وحيدا سمعت فتاة تبكي الأخ ، فهي تأخذك بعيدا عن تحدثتم مبارك الازدراء حتى الشباب الخاص بك قد راجع موران الآن موكب النهائي يحمل كنت بعيدا جوقة قليلة تكمن في وضع رمال القاهرة أين مرة شاهدنا الطيور bennu صغيرة تطير كان حبنا على الجناح كان لدينا أحلام وأغان لغنائها وحيدا حتى في رمال القاهرة -- تنفس الصعداء بواسطة ثقب نعش وحيدا رأيت شيء صبي صغير نائم المسائل بلدي زوجة ، عندما مجانية ضد المجاعة وولي العهد أنا تمردت ركضوا بانخفاض لي الآن يجب رفع طفلنا بكرامة. كانت جوقة قليلة الكذب ، في رمال تحسر القاهرة أين مرة شاهدنا الطيور الصغيرة تطير bennu من جانب قبر ضحل وحيدة هي ووتش نجم آخر سقط على السفينة حريتك أبحر في السماء على يقين من انها سوف نحزن ، ونأمل ونصلي من أجل حبها قد ذهب بعيدا انها وحيدا حتى في رمال القاهرة -- تحسر انها وحيدا حتى في وضع تحسر [موسيقى توقف هنا ولكن يجب الاستمرار في] كذبة قليلة جوقة ، في رمال القاهرة أين مرة شاهدنا الطيور bennu صغيرة تطير كان حبنا على الجناح كان لدينا أحلام وأغان لغنائها وحيدا حتى في -- رمال القاهرة رمال القاهرة -- تنفس الصعداء بواسطة مشرحة البرد وحيدا رأيت فينيكس ارتفاع الأخت ، فهي تأخذك بعيدا لكنت سرق مبارك الذرة حتى الشباب الخاص بك قد راجع موران الآن موكب النهائي يحمل كنت بعيدا للحصول على مستقبل أكثر دقة ، التي ساعدت لوضع. وضع جوقة قليلة الكذب ، في رمال القاهرة أين مرة شاهدنا الطيور الصغيرة تطير bennu كان حبنا على الجناح كان لدينا أحلام وأغان لغنائها وحيدا حتى في رمال القاهرة -- تنفس الصعداءحبنا على
 الجناح كان لدينا أحلام وأغان لغنائها وحيدا حتى في رمال القاهرة -- تنفس الصعداء










Fields of Athenry - Original Lyrics

By a lonely prison wall
I heard a young girl calling
Micheal they are taking you away
For you stole Trevelyn's corn
So the young might see the morn.
Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay.

Chorus


Low lie the Fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly.
Our love was on the wing
we had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry.


By a lonely prison wall
I heard a young man calling
Nothing matters Mary when you're free,
Against the Famine and the Crown
I rebelled they ran me down
Now you must raise our child with dignity.



Chorus 

Low lie the Fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly.
Our love was on the wing
we had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry.

 

By a lonely harbour wall
She watched the last star falling
As that prison ship sailed out against the sky
Sure she'll wait and hope and pray
For her love in Botany Bay
It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry.

Chorus
.

Low lie the Fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly.
Our love was on the wing
we had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry.
Lyrics and music by:
Pete St. John

30 Jan 2011

If

If I don't, then I won't
If won't, the I didn't
If I didn't, then I couldn't
If I couldn't, then I shouldn't
If I shouldn't, then I shan't
If I shan't, then I can't
If I can't, then I will.

29 Jan 2011

Average Joe



Songs full of human struggle
A strong man's lip quivers
The child's wide and bright eyes
A wife and a mother being left on her own
The field toiler, that struggles but still can't provide, for his family


For the life a Joe is as hard as hell, funny then how many saints survive
The special people, that can see far beyond. The special people, that live the song.
They all will live on, and one day we might even sing, about bluebirds and doves
and how people beat the silence and how people sung along, cause the people are so strong.


Songs full of sorrow and truth
The old fellow is crying for what he has lost
and the soldiers fight on, nailed to the cross
The poor and the sick and the weak
and as I listen to these song, a tear appears on my cheek


For the life a Joe is as hard as hell, funny then how many saints survive
The special people, that can see far beyond. The special people, that live the song.
They all will live on, and one day we might even sing, about bluebirds and doves
and how people beat the silence and how people sung along, cause the people are so strong.


Songs about death and some about life.
Songs about loss and hardship and spite
We'll listen to them all, but will we listen
Do we listen at all? Songs full of angst and tears
Passing the knowledge, so we might learn to embrace
The song of life, and sing the world a better place.


For the life a Joe is as hard as hell, funny then how many saints survive
The special people, that can see far beyond. The special people, that live the song.
They all will live on, and one day we might even sing, about bluebirds and doves
and how people beat the silence and how people sung along, cause the people are so strong.


Songs of my life and songs of yours
These songs are so sad, but will we never learn
Songs of the ages, songs of the sages
and songs about wages and songs about slaves
Won't you help to write a good song for today
The future and forever more, We can sing this song together.
We can sing this song forever and we can be in our own band.


For the life a Joe is as hard as hell, funny then how many saints survive
The special people, that can see far beyond. The special people, that live the song.
They all will live on, and one day we might even sing, about bluebirds and doves
and how people beat the silence and how people sung along, cause the people are so strong.

Cake Face

Have your cake but don't eat it
Liberty or freedom, make a choice
You can't have peace without a cost
you can't pay for people, you've lost
Have a sleep on your feet, or lie down awake,
Have a wife or a lover, and as you'll discover
You'll always want another,
But remember the golden rule
Have your cake but don't eat it.
Maintain peace with a war in the east
Sustain society by destroying its values
Killing children for a brighter future
Have your cake, but don't go and eat it.
What a life.

28 Jan 2011

The Perfumer

The perfumer in the perfumery parlour,
Performing his perfuming.
Creating and chasing,
Mixing and stirring,
Pouring and whirling,
Until that thing has been found.
From up in a tree, from down in the ground,
The perfumer picking and plucking,
Jumping and ducking.
chasing not displacing the harmony.
the perfect perfumer performing for glee.
The peaceful performance of the free.

Empathetic Butterflies


Skin stretched to limiting degrees
Tear, rip and split
Opened like a zip
Mask by mask
Bit by bit
Ego letting go of its grip

Mind starting to stir and trip
Painfully processing,
Pupa emerging, from silken cocoon
Worthy though - the trauma
As beauty born its crown

Flapped its wings on all good things
Spread its joy throughout the land
Ego left behind
Banished from the mind’s

Virtue in its place
Sublime, bewitching, fascinatingly exquisite,  
Metaphorical meme
that beautiful butterfly in the wind.

To Be Bearded Or Not To Be Bearded? That Is The Question.


I am thinking of growing a beard, is it, all that weird?
I know, there are much more weighty issues, to ponder
But just bare with me, my smoothed skinned friends
We'll start by looking at beards, through an abstract lens,
A beard isn't a mustache, it grew to form a critical mass
And covered the form like a natural mask, hiding the past.
But it never lasts, as the mask is a sign of a fine aged wine.
I can think of many the wise man, that donned a curly mess
I wonder if I deserve, such a noble disguise and would it get
in my eyes, make them blurry and blind me, from within?
Should I grow a long beard or just stay with simple skin?
The cold whether beating my face, with beard all gone, erased.
Itching my chin, annoyingly, as whiskers primed, ready to grow.
My mind grabs hold and shouts no, no! This isn't the time to start
being blind, That wouldn't be kind, it wouldn't be fair to grow a beard
and pretend I don't care, it wouldn't be right with my thoughts, out of sight,
I'd enjoy the warmth and the coziness of a wiry hidden World
Though, I doubt it would take very long, for me to overheat.
So shall I change the image that you already have of me?
Or should I just have a shave and with every slice of the blade
My mind cut free, resigned myself to being bold, free of masks: Story told.



Deadman Walking

You're looking at a dead man walking
You're talking to a man in mourning
You're sharing now, but when I'm gone
You'll wish I stayed, for just a little while longer
My path is set, I have no regrets
So please don't miss me when I'm gone
Enjoy it while it lasts, take what you can
Hold on to that piece of me, to remind you I was here.
We're all the same in starry starry nights
We come and bestow and when its time we go.
You're looking at a dead man walking
You're talking to a man in mourning.
But for now I am here, with my heart on display
And a mission to complete, to bring the brighter day.

Sometimes

Sometimes you just wanna scream
but you know it won't help any.
So you scream silently and dignified.
You have no words to express anymore
just a huge sullen sigh, falls from your eye.
and the bridge is calling, all the while calling.
And I am falling, just free falling, with eyes closed
no care in this world, as I float down to fated ground.

Sleeping

To all of those that had to go
and all of you that still remain
Upon the final journey: separated.
Broken hearts shot down in flames
and the waken miss the sleeping
And those that sleep, do so in peace
Restful gentle sleep, no more pain
and though we'll miss your smile
It won't be long, until we're back as one
and for eternity we'll be together
the pain of that earlier separation
will be a long forgotten memory
and we will miss you no more.
We'll be here waiting, just waiting for your call.

27 Jan 2011

Type-O

What quantity of order do you wish to impose
Getting eat-up by mistakes in my prose
Ignore the content that speaks from the soul
You'll never bestow order on that black whole
What are your rules in the end?
Try to comprehend: chaos is on the bend.
Type-O, gives the flow, that aesthetically attracts.
There are no ends and lines are circles.
Why question, then, my illiterate way
Abstract artists have the same to say.
Expressed in paint or through the form.
This is the place where my words are born
This very same place were the world is erased.
Spring of my wisdom's well, so tootle off;
now be on your way, i have but one final thing to say.
Learn to un-spell, it'll serve ye well
Ditch the broom too and that pointed hat
if you can't see through, that its all a trap
Take back your mind, demand your life back.
If you can't manage that, at least try to laugh.
Gramaticaster oh. . .what a disaster
verbiscent, longer than the words you lent
But still you insist on supervious resent.

Spaceman

Some days, I am walking on the moon;
Wearing moon boots and head in bubble.
It can get cold and lonely, up, in outer space.
Negotiating rough terrain, without a buggy.
A flimsy flag pole, is all i hold, as support.
Have you ever been to the moon's other side?
Lost your footing in the dark? Stumbled, fallen?
Sometimes, I find myself lost in lunar land.
Come back to Earth, with a thudding bang.
Astronaut rocketing, fuel tanks falling.
Atmosphere, stratosphere, in, out, with no fear.
Some days I get fed up with friends made of;
Cheese, when I am visiting, people on the moon.

Raising The Roof

Let us raise the roof, seeking truth
and running not walking through life
Running forward and then backwards
Getting up, after being knocked down
Fix broken noises, then play the sound
A magical rhythm, a wild primal beat.
Shuffling the feet, a tired redundant seat
and all the while, raising the roof
And all the while seeking the truth.
and sometimes flying in the night's sky
Hedonistic and wild sweating parties.
Dancing, following, where my heart is.
Living life with no regret, chains broken
All weight from shoulders disappear
As we live our lives, not through fear.

26 Jan 2011

A poem about a poem



A poem about a poem - Forgive my dulcet tones.

Double Speak With Forked Tongue

Scream, now go faster;
from one disaster to another.
Clashing words that lack finesse;
writing more, producing less.
Shouting hypocrite, hypocrite!
from every line and paralysis sets-in
Reading the writing an awful din.
My ink poised ready to commit the sin.

25 Jan 2011

Furrowed Brow

Furrowed brow, lines are forming
Worn out nails and cracking skin.
The aging oak's, sapling memories.
Fire in belly, quenched and dull.
Life is spent and leaves start to fall.
Ebbing, gently pushing through, to the end.
Hoping for bright lights and trumpeters.
To guide you home and release all fears.
Silently dancing with angelic souls
Passing peacefully in fetal crouch.
Procession in, procession out.
Weary weathered face, released.
Body worn and beaten, ceased.

22 Jan 2011

A Mind In A Park

The mind is a hive man, you just can't hide
The mind is a dive man, a hollow pride and then

[Click. . .click. . .click]

Filled with the system, the man, uncle Sam
And the gap is getting wider, the rift needs to shift

[Click. . .click. . .click]

We're going backwards, in our progress. . . man
not talking technology or plastic bits of future waste

[Click. . .click. . .click]

I mean to be free from the grind, to claim back time man
To slow the pace, to turn the race man, into a leisurely stroll

 [Click. . .click. . .click]

A walk in the park man, a talk in a mind man, a mind in a man
A park in a man, a walk in a man, a mind in a park man, a mind in a park.

[Click. . .click. . .click]

Clock into reality, even when it's dark man, we need to find the light
We need light man, we need light, if we can't see the wick, man
if we can't see the wick, if only we could see the wick man.

Mediocre Bore

Like looking down cock Shaw lane
millions walk and drive and talk

Think, that a broke son of beat poet's mom
Got nothing to bring to a mediocre party

Why don't you see beyond your dome
Your own hippodrome, your safe home

I've been up and down so many times
Bottom and top look the same, all lame

Took back my brain, made it sane
what a shame it's such a lonely game.

Cock Shaw with blind folds tightly wrapped.
Just walking on eggs, worrying they'll crack.

Don't be a drag, an old fad, a character sad
get mad, get moving, there's a party over hear.

Aint no mediocre mocking fool at this gig
just all the hip chicks and sub cool crows

And none of us could give a fig, for fools drunk
on blood and as they swig, We'll dance, you dig?

You dig, you dig, you dig your own hole
You mediocre fool, you stupid useless tool.

We're gonna gig man, were gonna jig, were gonna dance
We're gonna have a party all of our own.

Your not invited, so on your way home,
refused at the door, leave your mediocre,
mediocre no more , leave you disgusting mediocre bore.

Zeus' Fiery Fame

There is a platoon of satellites in the heavens
and Zeus will soon ignite a fiery flame, for
not playing along with this long game, over and over
Same of the same, Maim after Maim, in what name?
There is a blanket of frequencies over our heads
And we become beacons, for gloomy Sunday tunes.
They're firing rockets at the moon, actions of a loon?
Bust and boom, part of the doom, part of the play.
Finding, claiming, maiming again and again
All this pain caused with no shame, divide, share
Bounty kill. Market the water, market the rain
Market air? have you lost your brain. Market me?
I'm not worth anything in your game, I choose to refrain.
I'm not a Pablo's hound or a Skinner's pigeon pecking fool
There is a squadron of satellites in the heavens
and Zeus will soon ignite a fiery flame.

Come And Go.

Go and stand in a wood all alone, then it becomes easier to hear how pathetically irrelevant, an ego truly is.

Go without a proper meal for a week, then your materialistic yearnings, may just erode the veneer, that protects you from truth.

Go into a dying child's room and watch the tears, the fears and the pain, then your Calais heart might wake again.

Go amongst the lepers, the homeless, the tortured and abused and your lack of empathy may be, by light; refused.

Go and step outside of that bubble, that soft cosy cocoon, that comfy laurel for your backside, commence forth with Truth.

Come and find the joy, but also seek out the pain, for if we can not see, then we are blinded and the pain may grow and grow.

Come to a place of even ground, take on board every sight and sound, but don't let it get you down, let it inspire you, move you.

Come and appreciate what you have, no matter how little, don't stop striving, but realise life is now, not yesterday, nor tomorrow.

Come to me, come to me now and I will come to you, but not in guile or superficial niceties, I mean really come to me.

Come out of a wood and stand with the people, then it becomes easier to imagine, a world of peace where tyranny ceased with egos released.

Come and Go, my gentle child, face the headlights, create your own insights. Come and go for freedom, born a brighter day.

3 Jan 2011

If Poets Were Rock Stars

If poets were rock stars,we'd be on your Lear,we'd jettison off, whilst sipping Henri IV Dudognon Heritage Cognac & Quoting the Literary giants, whose shoulders, upon which we stand. We'd sing sweet nothings into the wilderness and know for sure, that the sweetness will be touched, received and passed and forever it would last. We'd have time in our hand and meet everyday to research and bounce view off view, we'd come to a conclusion and then a few, with opened mind we'd swap our rhyme, sing then sit, to fine dine. We'd cross that fine line, use any sign, that symbolises change, we'd rearrange and put back together the estranged, we'd sooth the enraged and we'd find the aged and serve them elixir cocktails.

 If poets were rock stars, we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off, to see what's left of old Rome, we'd go to Cairo, journey into the tomb, find that special brick, that unlocks all of the mysteries, as we travel and settle into the centre of that great pyramid of life, we'd realise there's no up and down, no need to wear a kingdom crown, in the centre, it all feels gentler, equal, equals, equal agenda. We'd commission an exploration, to locate and raise Atlantis from the murky depths, reverse that day and night to fortune.

If poets were rock stars, we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off, Eat caviar and sturgeon we'd be free from every burden, except to say, we'd pay by unburdening others, speak for those who know not what to say. If poets were rock stars, we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off, to a far off and exotic land, that hasn't yet been spoiled by human hand and on the way we'd play useless games with words and cross our minds as one, as we channel wisdom and treasure finds. No confines, no chain or ball, no limit or ends, no cage or net, travelling supersonic in our jet, no time for regret, as the future hasn't happened yet, but it won't be long before its here. Glimpsed it in the now and as it passes by and fades, instantly replaced by infinite shades. Shades of potential, neither dark nor glow, Its up to us how we chose to bestow.

 If Poets were rock stars we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off, and land by a lake, we'd visit the lady that in Loch Katrine lay, We'd sing limericks and lyrics to lift her spirits. Together we'd heal all clan that are rifted. We'd tell stories of human hearts and how humans came apart and why humans should start to start and see real smart that we all belong to each other.

If poets were rock stars, we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off and we'd come back home, we'd smells the familiar scents in the air, we'd breath a deep breath and forget our despair, we'd see sights and sounds that bring us joy.After a break it all looks great as we celebrate and now we're home, We contemplate, and as we do we realise that our rock star guise, and supersonic Sky's can not disguise what's in front of our eyes, maybe are our lives personifies a rock stars lies. We may have it all and more, as i said once before its up to us how we choose to bestow, the future is ours until it travels and passes, until it fades, infinite chooses in infinite shades, so try and look for the brightest hues, apply them to your daily views, if in doubt consult your muse. If poets were rock stars, we wouldn't be poets.