Poetry

As the name suggests, this page is where I am going to post my poetry (or attempts thereat) for your reading pleasure (or displeasure, that decision between the two is yours and yours alone, naturally). Not much yet, but theres much more on screwed up peices of paper all over my bedroom floor....

My Angel sings a siren song,
With golden lips and silver tongue.
Much do I wish to heed her call,
To go to her; give her my all,
But near to her I cannot be.
Curse those bars of filigree!
No, from her cage she cannot stir,
Rich, gilded bars imprison her.
Caged is she, atrophied wings,
Yet still my angel sweetly sings.
That honeyed voice, it calls to me.
Would that I could but set her free,
But I have no key for the lock,
And my strength the bars do mock,
And though I wish to let her fly,
My weakness means encaged she'll die.

You’re so big and I’m so small
Watch me curl into a ball
See me shivering with fear
Every time that you come near

You’re so strong and I’m so weak
Watch me standing frail and meek
See me laying in your wake
Every single turn you make

You’re so quick and I’m so slow
Watch me trailing as you go
See me running after you
Every time you’re running through

You’re so smart and I’m so dumb
Watch me leaving as you come
See me falling way behind
Every time you change your mind

You’re so hot and I’m so cold
Watch me buying what you’ve sold
See me trying to be you
Every single thing you do

You’re so vibrant I’m so grey
Watch me watching you today
See me here in my disguise
Every time you close your eyes

Their eyes are closed, their lips apart;
They’re sharing body and open heart,
In their kiss two souls entwine
See them now and a love define.

They stand; lips pressed deep together now,
Breathing one another’s air somehow.
Alone am I, and they together,
Their sun outshines my murky weather.

His hands across her body roam.
Oh, how I wish I was at home!
They do not seem to realise,
Each time they touch, my soul it dies.

How foul it is to see them kiss,
My grief burns brighter by their bliss.
Do they not know that I am doomed,
To breathe my last, alone entombed?

Closer, closer still, they grow;
Their happiness fills me with woe,
To be alone is not so bad,
To be besides them drives me mad.

In their world there are but two,
Mine must accept that one will do.
A love as true as theirs it sears,
Makes blind my eyes and deaf my ears.

And did not Percy Shelley say,
On some now forgotten day,
That ‘soul meets soul on lover’s lips’?
Their joyful union my soul rips.

Their passion fills the room up whole,
My woe burns in me hot like coal.
And yet I cannot look away,
Even as his hands downward stray.

Communism. Terrorism. Mohammedism.
These things we're told to despise.
Democracy. Conformity. Christianity.
Things shrouded all in lies.

This is the Two Minutes Hate.
Your rulers are the good guys.
They're thinking for you. Great.
The foreigners you despise.
Hate the turban. Hate the beard.
Fear the AK-47.

Racism. Sexism. Nationalism.
In the name of orange alert.
McCarthyism. Inquisition. Truth commission.
Do memories so soon desert?

This is the Two Minutes Hate.
They're radical – the bad guys.
You know what to feel: pure hate.
They're different: you despise.
Hate the stranger. Hate the alien.
Fear the unfamiliar ones.

 Bin Laden. Saddam and Fidel Castro.  
The names of those you must loathe.
Bush, Blair, Cheney and Ol' Uncle Sam
You love them, go with what you know.

 This is the Two Minutes Hate.
We know the truth from the lies.
We know what's good for you: Hate!
They're different, so despise!
Hate the foreign. Hate the new.
Fear them, unlike me and you.

This is the Two Minutes Hate.

For Gods sake let the churches burn
What came from ash to ash return
Centuries of oppressive lies
Now in the fire of mankind dies
Rise up, my child, get off your knees
The fire purifies and frees
Fear not the wrath of what is not
Serfdom should not be mankind’s lot
Our fathers built an overlord
A façade now to be abhorred

Here’s the church and here’s the steeple
Burn it down and free the people
Let the slaves of The Lord go free
Worship no more what can not be
Tear down the crucifix, my friends
As it falls our slavery ends
Wreck the altar, overturn the font
End now millennia of want
No more shall we be robbed of life
No more, in the name of God, strife

I am the angel with only one wing;
You have just witnessed the birth of a god.
Harken now as the choral voices sing;
Watch as the seraph flies free from his pod.

Face me then; bring your swords and bring your guns.
Can you shoot the angel down from the skies
Withstand supernovas and great scorching suns.
We shall soon see which one of us dies.

You cannot kill me again, little boy.
Mine is the power of life and of death.
The power to create and to destroy,
The power to see you breathe your last breath.

No, I will never be a memory,
Though the planet will never forget me.