THE BELL’S LAMENT

Posted on by rawwordwalks

Today the bell tolled for you and I,
Ringing out its muffled pure lament,
Its unique solemn tone seemed to cry
A requiem for a love that sadly died;
Not a sudden death, neither shocking,
But instead a long, sorrowful farewell,
A tardy wave in a most stilted goodbye.

A stooped mourner stands totally alone
Staring down into the bottomless grave,
Knowing there is no hope of resurrection,
That love has really gone now; it had its time;
All mourners turn to their beloved memories,
Making the unstoppable days seem bearable,
And the survivor in us is taken onward in step
By the force within that will not quell, hope.

PASSION

Posted on by rawwordwalks

Where did all that passion go?
Down the plug-hole with the soapsuds,
Or float out the window in a row?
Did it slide beneath the trolley wheels?
Trundling endless supermarket isles,
Or get drowned in night-time baby cries?
Neglected carelessly, then sadly lost
Down the trodden stairs of everyday life
And through the door to the fireside,
Where in all those enduring years
We watched the hot embers cool.

THE BEAUTIFUL VOICE OF PROFESSOR LLEWELLYN

Posted on by rawwordwalks

If you like reading about romance and family life then you may enjoy The Beautiful Voice of Professor Llewellyn.  A light-hearted, modern look at family life and romance later in life.  The storyline also explores the difficulties of mental illness within a family and  its impact.  The book is available in hard copy and on kindle from Amazon (Romance & Family categories)

AUTUMN

Posted on by rawwordwalks

Standing on the old steps at Marlfield

Looking out across the furrowed fields,

Dark-brown earth in neat turned rows,

The yellow wheat stubble buried now

Heralding the ever changes of autumn.

The swallows left us for warmer climes

But the crows still bicker on the chimneys

Or flock on fresh frosty furrows to feed.

There is a wispy silver mist hanging

And a chill sharply bites the early air,

The warm long light-filled evenings

Now darkening and winter bound,

This unrelenting force of nature

Pushing us onward through our life

Perpetually moving yet set seasons,

Our only stability and only sureness

In a turbulent and unstable world,

And as I look out at the mighty oak

Its acorns dropped among its leaves,

This pattern for three hundred years

Seen, its beauty acknowledged always

By those in the now and those long gone,

That mighty and majestic oak stands alone

Yet will be taller still when I have long fallen.

LOVE

Posted on by rawwordwalks

When there is not love

The heart aches for it

A sob sits in its core.

Sad longing within

So careless a thing

To find it then lose it.

For love is the skip

Bounce in the step

Beat in every day

Great love, that is.

But who loves well?

Always mistakes

Some put right

Other not, and sit

To drag the skip

Break the bounce

Beat love dead.

For shame, for love

Was always our reason

That makes us our best.

A BLOOMING BRIDE

Posted on by rawwordwalks

Bun-in-the oven bride walks down the isle

With lacquered hair-do and toothy smile.

The poxy groom hung over and pasty

Wonders whether he has been too hasty.

He looks to the doors – is it too late to run?

But one eye notices the butt of a gun

Peeping out, a shade of deathly grey,

The decision was made – he would stay.

O miserum O miserum

Ten years on and four children later

All love has gone, infact he hates her.

Ma and kids have gone back to mother,

Where as he has taken up with another.

He’s all right, his new love is quite pretty

Supposedly, something, big in the city.

The new sophisticate is wined and dined,

Theatre, opera! Poxy became Mr Refined.

O miserum, O miserum

Ma, by contrast is down, dowdy and broke,

Sex-starved and lonely and longing fo a bloke,

The children are monsters, absolute pains,

She knocks back Quiet Life to keep her sane.

A CURE

Posted on by rawwordwalks

The hole in my cold heart

Is an open, sore abyss

Through which a steely

Stinging rod sits tight.

The once soft beating red

Is blue, stringy and sinewy.

Scoop it up and place it

On your  butcher’s block

Why don’t you just try?

Why don’t you jab it again

With some other jagged edge,

Prod hard its toughy grain?

This oven-baked burnt lump,

Singed by barbed hot spews

That erupt in quick-fire spurts

From that huge gape in your face,

Sending me stone-faced, tight-lipped

Down, down through the clock face,

Blasted by its relentless ticking

That constantly drowns me out.

Time is running on and out now

To find that heart softening cure.

The piercing rod may always be

A thing unwanted inside of me.

TOY BOY (HELP TO THE AGEING)

Posted on by rawwordwalks

A bit of Friday fun!  (In the Old Music Hall style)

My arse, I’m over the hill dear!

Though it’s true my waist has gone west

And my thighs resemble a Sumo’s,

Yes, I grant you I’m not quite my best.

The crow’s feet have been etch-sketching

And the hair dye comes out once a month,

But, please do not let that deter you, dear,

As there is life in this old girl yet.

The pilot-light stil flick-flickers

And waits for a turn-on to power,

So when I spied your taut butt, dear,

I just knew we could have fun, dear,

You’re obviously not bulging with brains,dear,

But your bulges elsewhere will do, do!

Let’s do it with gusto, with lusto!

Let’s swing from a chandelier or two!

You can really do what you will, dear,

Age has opened-up my mind, dear,

Let’s start on page one of the Sutra

And rapidly work our way through!

I’ll try not to giggle or fart, dear,

And appreciate you – oh yes, I will!

Let’s boing the springs in the mattress,

Drill me, thrill me and fill me, please do,

Bonkety-bonk me until I am zapped, dear,

And cry-out for you to ‘Stop, stop!’ dear,

When my boiler is serviced right through

You can be on your young way, dear,

Our secret would be safe with me, dear,

You really would make my day, dear,

Will you? Please do, please do!

SLIDING THROUGH YOU

Posted on by rawwordwalks

PART ONE

Sliding through your body,

So weak am I,

Like water flowing on the brink,

Now I cascade, down down,

Until I rest deep within you.

Iron-taut tiny dancers

Turn pirouettes, their tutus

Like fluttering gossamer wings

Of  butterflies freed from a chrysalis.

So lost am I in you

That I cling to your skin,

So tight lest I blink and lose

You, my saviour from nothing.

PART TWO

Still clinging, I watch you breathe,

I trace your jawline with my finger

And rest the tip softly on your lips,

Stroking those loving words you whispered.

Your face is like a cloud drifting in sleep,

Lost in your secret padlocked world.

Suddenly a shiver runs through me,

A bleak reminder to stay earthbound,

Behind me I see a dark cloud hovering

Waiting to move in and squall on me.

I want to peel back your head then

And delve through your secret files

Of memories and past, lost loves,

To learn whether I should slip away

Or linger to give us some time.

After all these years of dull-armoured,

Closed, cold and futile years,

I am soft, soft and melted down,

But, a finger keeps tapping my shoulder,

Whispers crackled words in my ears.

Haven’t I , sad fool, been here before,

A few times, may be more, surely more,

And know that loving sensuous words can

Turn to venomous and vile in a blink,

And warm fronts turn to ice-cold backs

Without fully understanding why.

AU REVOIR BILLY

Posted on by rawwordwalks

(Written 21st September, 2003)

As you moved towards the white light

We came to bid you farewell,

Loved ones and those close to you

Wept,

Not wanting you to leave them,

Because, Billy, you were a rare man,

A special, kind and wise man

Whose presence would brighten a room.

Now you are heavenward, somewhere,

And raw grief takes a tight hold,

Making the days ahead look bleak

Without you.

But, when grief softens its grip

And memories slowly trickle in,

Wrapping us snug in their warmth,

Knowing that you are just waiting

Close by,

Happy and at peace,

Keeps you here with us,

Always.