'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