'Tempus Fugit'

Time is such to break a heart
but isn’t life till death do part?
He wends his way
Then falls away
Alone in Darkness
Still; in sorrow

Time is never ever late
Life is fast and cannot wait.
The weary road,
with heavy load
Silent and cold
Blackness unfolds.

Why this ever winding path?
why be sad when we can laugh
Don't despair
In love we share
Jagged rocks
Ticking clocks

Time stands still - yes its a fact
the sands ran out,the glass is cracked
Russet leaves
Barren trees
Winters day?
No, 1st of May


©Rosewing

The Virgins No Longer Wears White

    Hello red sun said the owl of the sky,

       And the moon crawled out of its’ hiding place;

       Beneath the remains of a willow-patterned sky

            Tomorrow is clenched in his fist.

   

 Small metal band of age old convention,

The days plastic world explodes in his face

Aesthetic dreams of silhouettes ciphers

   And today has ceased to exist

Etching itself on the backbone of heaven,

The burning ghost of original sin.

Confetti procession to satisfy morals.

   And yesterday died in the night.

The stilted canyons conceal their secret,

And will not flood the floor of the valley

The neighbour is counting the months on her fingers

   And the virgin no longer wears white !

                                          ©Rosewing        

It’s All My Fault !!

      

Aches so much and the bruises show,

Fell downstairs again?

The nurses won’t believe it this time

But they never know the reason.

It’s all my fault, you see,

Instead of going shopping,

I should have made him tea.

It’s worse this time, I feel it more,

I think my arm is broken.

But I bring it on myself

I know how much he loves me,

And he doesn’t mean to cause me hurt

But instead of cleaning up the house

I should have ironed his shirt.

The pressure he has to take at work

Must weigh so heavily on his shoulders;

I should try and stop the baby crying,

He needs the rest and silence.

It’s all my fault I know, so far

Instead of changing baby John

I should have cleaned his car.

I know I shouldn’t have screamed so loud

When his fist thumped my face,

What if the neighbours had heard?

They know he’s so gentle and kind.

It’s all my fault – just like he said

But if I take one more beating

I’m sure I’ll end up dead.

                                  ©Rosewing   

Dixon of Dock Green?

      

                                 Our wonderful bobbies on the beat,

                                       Now have cars instead of feet

“Evening all “ with a friendly nod,

Whatever happened to PC Plod?

The woman was found in a pool of blood,

You’d fetch a policeman if you could.

Drive your car up to the shops

Passed thirty-seven traffic cops.

Need a car – “Go nick one then!”

And why stop at one it could be ten

If you’re caught (the chance is remote)

They’ll send you off on a plane or boat.

Don’t drive too fast, speed kills

(And fines help pay policemen’s’ bills)

Don’t ever expect them to get their man

Why bother when you can take the can!

“I didn’t do it, I wasn’t there”

Now sir, don’t tell the truth, that’s not fair.

you must be guilty we are never wrong

just sign this statement, it won’t take long.

Lock him away for fifteen years

With a colour TV and a couple of beers.

We’ll let you out early if you’re not a pain

Then you can go home and do it again.

The Chiefs say it’s not their fault they’re crap

That the police are caught in a poverty trap

No money for equipment or men they bleat

So get em out of their cars and onto their feet.

                                                  ©Rosewing 

Dreams of A Harlequin Sundown

Bloodshot horizons of border town chaos,

Harlequin sundown on cellophane walls

Typewritten headlines in newspaper skies’

Skeleton cities of dust-ridden streets.

Transparent windows of stained glass dreams

     Pictures of heaven merging with hell.

Pendulum clocks on polished wood shelves

Candle stick trinkets on melted wax graves;

Brown speckled doves of virgin white stock

Dew-filled tomorrows lost in today;

Night spattered screams of terrified children

      Pictures of Jesus hurling grenades.

Smiling generals and yesterdays victories

Sapphire rings and a loves broken heart.

Masked politicians asking no questions’

Hordes of their victims telling no lies;

Bushes of jungle burning with fire

       Pictures of God with a match in his hand.

                                     ©Rosewing

Not In My Name

Don't starve the children , or kill their dreams
Don't bomb their schools and homes
Never let the parents know it was you
And never, never in my name!

The sick imprisoned, justice is swift,
Innocence is guilty while the rest go free
Don't pretend to care about the freedom we lost
And don't claim you act in my name!


Swap blood for oil, dollars for guns,
Men in black: politics in suits,
Faceless, and hiding the truth from itself
Lies that are told in my name!


Usurping power from whence it came
Silence the doubters, patriots all!
The world will be safe, when everyone's dead
But don't do it my name!


©Rosewing

Saturday Night

A mouse that tames the mighty beast
sore eyes find their subtle feast
on bouncing flesh displayed for them
Silk satin legs parade the walk,
smiles and laughter..(womens talk!)
Alcohol, dull senses sigh
stocking tops and a glimpse of thigh.

Too young to vote but not for love
(that dress fits her just like a glove)
Its puzzling how she got it on!
Yawning eyes on socket stems,
Silhouette heels and rising hems
Lashes, lipstick and perfumes scent,
I wonder where childhood went?

So small a thing that furry mouse,
sweet within its little house
the mother waits her daughters coming.
But hark I hear the morning dawn,
The currys' multi-coloured yawn
Hair dishevelled, clothes are torn,
And yet another suckers born.

©Rosewing

Secret World

silence all around,
This ‘Secret World’ we never find.
Auras, lights and rainbow sounds
Pervading unassuming minds.

If only I could get inside
That cloud of incandescent glow,
An open door to suicide
That only some of us will know.

The druid dreamer wears no smile,
As Gabriel with his scissors bright,
Cuts the cord, and in awhile
Blackness gives away to light.

Floats above his body’s wake
Unseen by all below;
Watches whilst his corpse they take,
And the energy begins to flow.

Angels guide the soul to rest,
Ever onward into light.
Unseen by grieving relatives
Just a loved one ghostly white.

You mourn for me, I hear your cries]
Forget me not, but please don’t weep
For I am not where my body lies
The ‘Secret World’ is where I sleep

©Rosewing

The Ballad Of A Guilty Conscience?

I just gave the orders,
Not caring how or why;
After all, it wasn’t me who going to die.
I just watched from faraway
Whilst the blood was spilled,
It didn’t bother me
how many would be killed.
I saw television pictures of the child without a home
Her mother lying in the road,
And yet, I said to kill as many as they could.
The bayonet lunged forward
Its victim falls to ground;
But I the politician am nowhere to be found.
In my little office
Safe and sound I sit,
A trifle worried, but it’s too late now; once the fuse is lit!
And all that young blood
Flowing in the gutter,
Many angry men, but I hear no words they utter.
I just gave the orders,
Not caring how or why;
After all, it wasn’t me who going to die.
©Rosewing

Rain

i can make you smile
he said to the sun
and the sun slunk away.

i can make you frown
he said to the sky
but the sky didn't answer.

i can make you blow
he said to the wind,
but the wind was asleep.

i can make you rain
he said to the cloud
and it rained..............

i can see the raindrops
blowing in the breeze

i can see the rainclouds patterned in the sky
i can feel the rainfall drizzling to the ground
i can hear the storm rage and i can hear the sound
of rain
beating on my window pane soaking lawns of velvet grass
rain
eating at our willow frame stroking dawns of silver glass

i can make you smile
he said to the sun
and the sun slunk away
.
i can make you frown
he said to the sky
but the sky didn't answer.
i can make you blow
he said to the wind,
but the wind was asleep.

i can make you rain
he said to the cloud
and it rained.

©Rosewing

Protest!

To scared to live too broke to die
Ever wonder the reason why ?
We came to listen to what they said,
-A thousand bodies laying dead
Never question who they may be
We’re supposed to live in a democracy.
Politicians ask you for their vote
On poverty and homelessness they gloat
Seek asylum ? …we’re already here
This is Britain so full of fear.

Wait the morning comes around
Quickly now, without a sound
To break the dawn of bright new world
Banners flying, peace unfurled
Crime is rampant, streets of hate
Only death can steal your fate
Never walk alone the streets of pain
Cash disappearing down the drain
Of the governments ever deepening well
Welcome; to the gates to hell

©Rosewing

The News (with apologies to George Orwell)

The little clouds stared from the blanket of sky
then broke down and wept at the news
The sun turned its back on that side of the world
just to show where its sentiments lay.
The moon frowned from its night crested ceiling
on the river of invading battalions
And 'Big Brother ‘is watching too!

The tanks rolled through the subservient streets,
then lined up for show in the square
The world listened with both hands tied
as Hiroshima hung over her head.
CCTV records what it wants to see
whilst Microsoft enhances the image
And 'Big Brother' is watching too!

The poster hangs on the walls of a city
in the novelists’ fictitious world.
The meaning is hidden, but all the more true
in the headline we heard on the news:
The big corporations that bend like the wind,
to the man with the world in his hands
Bill Gates is watching YOU!

©Rosewing

Gordon Brown

Gordon Brown won't let you down,
Shrewd fiscal brain,financial drain;
Big Bank Bail-out'
Euro Cop-out
Services cut,hospitals shut.
"We'll half the deficit" he said,
(However says that satire's dead)

Gordon Brown won't let you drown
In fiscal stew-not me and you!
Politically astute, financially cute:
Markets crashed, shares slashed
World recession, Uk depression.
"It's not our fault,it's a world wide thing"
(Same old record with a familiar ring)

Gordon Brown won't let you down,
Taxes high, pensioners die,
Troops with no tools,
Parliament of fools.
Expenses row, I don't know how
He ever won an election
(Oh yes-of course, he didn't!)

@Rosewing

Forty Five Minutes

Do you remember when we went off to war ?
We were told all the reasons and what it was for.
That government dossier nicked from the net
It was 'sexed-up' by a man called…..oh I forget
Well it turns out it was all just a simple mistake,
There were no conspiracy, or spies trying to fake.
It was just some Health papers dropped on the floor
And picked up in error at the ministry of War......

I've seen the original and what it actually said,
Was that in 45 minutes you should get a bed
In a N.H.S. hospital, awaiting your op.
But they dropped that proposal - the men at the top!
Because too many people kept getting ill,
(They're changing the law now, making a bill)
To stop us developing serious disease,
And make all the patients go overseas.
Well, there's plenty of room in hospitals abroad
Their patients are over here. They can afford
The nurses and doctors that we trained so well
A free National Health?
.....Now that that rings a bell!
©Rosewing

Survivor

The melting mass of mutated man
Struggled forward spouting blood,
No bright coloured shirt he wore
Just a pattern etched into his chest.
A blue scar marred his orange neck,
Peeling flesh his deformed face,
As from the burning fields of ash
He crawled , blinded by the light.
But no-one came to his aid
To treat his toasted skin;
No-one, because there is no-one
No living thing is left !

©Rosewing

Brave New World

The brave new world of Tony Blair
Jobless, homeless everywhere
The N.H.S. is in such a state,
if you want to die, you’ll have to wait.
Not enough police out on the street,
Crime figures are down though, now there’s a feat!
Unemployment’s down but factories still close,
When the PM speaks just watch his nose,
Pinocchio Blair with his Cabinet of wood
He’d be the President if he could
There’s Jack Straw the Home man
Always ready to take the can.
We’ve got John Prescott and his two Jags,
And Gordon Brown to tax the fags.
David Plunkett, a rising star,
Estelle Morris she’ could go far!
New Labour with its old ideas
New sound bites with the same old fears
The brave new world of Tony Blair
And half the nation doesn’t care!!

©Rosewing

History Will Remember

You can take them to the border line
And lead them by the hand,
You can take them across the water,
But they still won’t understand
the reason for the outcry.
Do they ever listen ?
Do they even care?
When will they remember who put them where they are?

Twist statistics on the blackboard
Meaningless figures are despatched.
As we stand by in silence
Another plan is hatched
to bring them all more glory
A place in history’s’
Ever changing book
Which only winners get to write!

What care they if thousands lose their lives
What care the men on high?
The Generals never have to fight
Just smile sweetly when they lie
and never answer questions
As to when or how and why,
the cannon fodder was destroyed
By ever so‘friendly’ fire.

‘My enemy’s enemy is my friend’
They strive to help his cause.
World peace at stake, or so they say
It’s a ‘moral’ use of force.
After all we’ve done to save the world
Ungrateful ‘infidels’
We need this war to feed the dream
And Hollywood needs more scripts.

©Rosewing

Pissing In The Wind (with apologies to Elton John & David Bowie)

Goodbye Maggie Thatcher
From the young man in the twenty second row
of cardboard boxes in the street,
(We don’t exist you know)

It seems to me that most of life
is like pissing in the wind;
Never getting anywhere
until your lights are dimmed.
I should have liked to know you
Because of all you did
I would have put you back inside your box
Then super-glued the lid.

Ground control to Major Jon
Strings attached and glasses on
Have you checked out number ten?
Grey paint all over Maggies den.

It seems to me that politics
is like farting in the wind
The stench will always come right back
On those who did the sin.
I should have liked to meet you
And shake you warmly by the throat
But never mind you're on your bike
Now don’t forget your coat

Ground control to Clinton Bill
Monica has had her fill
What a sorry sordid tale
But its alright if you don’t inhale.

Goodbye Norma goodbye Jon
From New Labours’ Tory Blair
I’ve no ideas of my own
So why don’t we just share

It seems to me that politicians
are full of so much wind
It doesn’t matter what they say
cos no-one ever listens
I’m glad I didn’t know you all
Because I’d have been quite ill
What with Maggie and her lap dog Jon
Tory Blair and Cigar Bill.
©Rosewing

Please Take Me Home To Mummy

The nightmare woke her from the dream
Of the stranger with a sickly smile,
His haunting face and soft spoken words
All she wants is Mummy!

She had been playing in the sun kissed corn
When snatched from under daddy’s’ eyes.
Screams that no-one else could hear
“Please take me back to Mummy”

Don’t want to do the things he asks
I know that it’s not right.
His frightening eyes and strong hard hands
“Please take me home to Mummy.

Tears that flow, but all in vain
He doesn’t want to hear the cries
His evil mind and sad twisted heart
That took her from her Mummy

He covers his ears with his murderous hands
To shelter from the screams.
Inside his head the child still lives
With a picture of her Mummy.

Silent, still, stiff and cold
A tiny bundle of tattered clothes
Discovered in an unknown ditch
And never again to see Mummy.

Worse than beasts, lower than low
The doctors treat his …‘illness’
But they cannot bring a young life back
They can’t give her back to Mummy!
©Rosewing

Bring Them Home !

Desperate hope; starvation near
Hearts and minds all filled with fear
Children edging nearer death,
Mothers sighing their last breath.
Sandstorms blinding frightened eyes,
Missiles deafening babies cries.
Onward ever into war,
Never ending - What's it for ?
Why are we here ?
Because they sent us!
O Jesus; - make it stop!

I don't want to be alone
Only the enemy to hear my groans
I would have liked to reach nineteen
And not looked out at such a scene:
Desert, rocks - abominations,
White flag waving for salvation.
Her young face so pure and innocent,
Her gun so vicious , bullets sent.
Why did so shoot ?
Because they sent her!
Sweet Jesus; - make it stop!

Pain so intense it hurts to cry,
Never even got to say goodbye.
Friends and family wait in sorrow,
TV news they watch in horror
An unknown corpse, that lies forlorn
Still waiting for the next new dawn.
Please god, hear my hollow screams,
The end of adolescent dreams
Why here? - Why now?
Because they sent us!
Please Jesus; - make it stop!

©Rosewing

I Hate Cherries!?

If Life is just a bowl of cherries,
then why do keep getting all the stones ?
No tasty fruit,no smiles and laughter,
Just grumbles,grunts and groans.

At the bank or supermarket checkout
Always at the end of the queue
And why does the cashier close for lunch?
Just before she gets to you!

Traffics jams when you're already late,
Contra flows and miles of cones,
Red lights that conspire against me
Why do I always get the stones

Automatic switchboards talking back to me
Press "1" to hear my groans
Poor customer service and slow 'fast food'
Why do I always get the stones

Light bulbs that blow after only a day
Window shoppers that get in your way,
If something can wrong it always will
All part of lifes bitter sweet pill
If Life is really a bowl of cherries,
Can I have an apple please?
©Rosewing

Thoughts of Big Brother

Tax the road the ride upon,
Tax the air you breathe;
Little black boxes in your cars,
I’ll know where you are before you do!
Id cards with Dna we’ve got your number son,
Its no good complaining you voted me back
Three terms!, it’s my page in history.
And now to leave my legacy
To prudent Gordon, my right hand
(He’s about a much use as that!)

Should I stay or should I go,
The people must really love me
Perhaps I could abolish parliament
And be President of my own republic
Perhaps privatise the monarchy: King Tony
And Queen Cherie
It has a nice ring don’t you think
Yes now, I hear the cheers
At least it would spare us from Big Ears
(To say nothing of the gorgeous Camilla)


Doublespeak and Gobbleygook
Brother Blair watches over you
Protects you with his ASBOs,
Electronic tags and community service
The sandal wearing yoghurt knitters
Cry wolf (though they cannot hunt them)
It’s not his fault he murdered those people
He can’t do what he is told
It’s a medical condition brought about
Because he never had an ice cream
When he was 2 years old



. ©Rosewing

Curying Favour

Major disaster,-‘Back to basics’
Do you like chips with your Curry?
Family values from good ‘honest John’
But now he’s really in the slurry.

A sad sorry tale of deceit and lies
(And the press is like dog with a bone)
She warned us all about the eggs
But forgot about her own.

Secret liaisons with a little grey man.
Clandestine meetings after dark.
‘The House is sitting late tonight’.
Just another chance remark?

Sack Mellors just for being Chelsea fan.
And performing far better than the team.
Let us all preserve the family image.
To keep hold of the conservative dream.

Chicken Curry or perhaps it should be beef
Was she the minister for Home ‘Affairs’?
It fills column inches and the tv news
But no-one really cares.

A whore sells her body for cash on the street
Not in Smiths or Waterstones
Please sell some books then go away
We’re sick of all your moans!

©Rosewing