Read My Crazmad Book of Poems Page 5

pray,

  A vision of joy unfolds.

  Cars and stars and rockets to Mars,

  A thousand dreams untold.

  These are the dreams, the childhood scenes,

  Repeated across the globe.

  For one short night there is no fright,

  It should always be just so.

  Thank you so much, we love you such,

  For giving us all this joy.

  We will be good, we know we should,

  Every girl and boy.

  If You Ate Too Much Food This Christmas...

  Don’t be too concerned by the extra calories

  You may have consumed this Christmas,

  They can be saved up and made good use of later,

  As cushioning against inflation.

  Mice

  Last night as I lay in my bed,

  I heard them.

  Scratching.

  Up there, in the dark, cold attic,

  I heard them,

  Scratching.

  A trap I placed, not far from them,

  A tempting morsel set upon it,

  I heard a snap,

  No more scratching.

  Searching

  What is peace; does anyone really know?

  I’ve searched so hard but it evades me so.

  Will I ever know its sweet embrace,

  Its soothing touch, its saving grace?

  Or will I just fumble on from day to day,

  ‘Till I can dream no more as I fade away?

  Words Carved in Stone

  At the end of your days,

  When your struggle is done,

  When the battle is fought,

  And the war has been won.

  When you lie in the soil,

  In splendid retreat,

  All that’s left of your deeds,

  Are some words carved out neat.

  When your soul is at rest,

  And your body no more,

  Those words you have left,

  Might lead to implore.

  They may inspire someone else,

  Who is not yet in this world,

  To strive and continue,

  With your dreams and your goals.

  Those words carved in stone,

  Though they be cold and so still,

  Are the most important of all,

  The things you leave in your will.

  So before that day comes,

  Record those words down,

  Of how you want to be remembered,

  And for what through all time.

  Cats

  Cats are people too!

  Do they talk to you?

  They are here, but not,

  It’s like trying to cut fog!

  Are cats people at all?

  They have their friends,

  When it pleases them,

  And they have none,

  When it so pleases them.

  Are you friends at all?

  They are certainly not people,

  When they kill for fun,

  Perhaps they are more human, then.

  It’s hard to know, I don’t know,

  Whether they are human or not.

  Look into their eyes,

  Is mankind staring back at you?

  We are not their masters,

  We have no control over them,

  Perhaps they are people after all!

  Dogs

  Dogs want to be people too,

  Look at them, they will look at you.

  If they could talk what tales would tell?

  Of butts and bones and cars and smells.

  They know quite often, before you do,

  That you’re going out, they see the clues.

  Your keys might clink; they’ll know it’s time,

  To have a drive in that car of mine.

  What’s yours is theirs, and what’s theirs is yours,

  They don’t see your failings, can’t see your flaws,

  Just pat their head or shake a paw, they’re happy.

  A better friend could ne’er be sought,

  They will stick with you through thick or thin,

  Never flinching; you always win.

  They love you; it’s simply that,

  They love you; forget the cat.

  When evening comes they wait for you,

  Sitting by the door, tail wagging, they will say,

  It’s you again, c’mon let’s go out and play,

  And have some fun with my number one.

  Sparky Parents

  I will tell you this, from me to you,

  To rear good children all that you need do,

  Is be good parents, be shining bright,

  The spark for their dreams, the light of their lives.

  While they are young and when everything’s new,

  Be their best friend and they also with you,

  For childhood is fleeting and before very long,

  They will have departed the nest and left you alone,

  So pull up a blanket, lay under the stars,

  And dream both together of pipes, cloaks and cars.

  Cracked

  Some people might think that I am cracked,

  Two sheets to the wind, and that is a fact.

  But I say it’s them who are lacking of sorts,

  Afraid to speak up, to convey their true thoughts.

  To speak and to mean just what we might say,

  Is honesty lacking in the world of today.

  If people joined my wonderful cause,

  They would value, welcome and give it applause.

  But people are strange; nice to the face,

  But turning their back they fall down in disgrace,

  Lying and cheating with no thought of the pain,

  That neglecting truth causes, and who is to blame.

  They just follow the herd, they follow the crowd,

  Ticking off those who stand apart from the crowd,

  Laughing at those two sheets in the wind,

  Oblivious to the fact that they are happier than them.

  If more people were so, two sheets to the wind,

  More would be happier and less would have sinned.

  December 21st

  The solstice day,

  The shortest stay,

  The weakest rays,

  This very day.

  This self-same morn,

  At break of dawn,

  The veil is torn,

  New hope is born.

  Remove the dark,

  Bring back the spark,

  Life spirit’s mark,

  Of this I hark.

  Inspire us on,

  With hope anon,

  Returning sun,

  Life will go on.

  Father Christmas Where Have You Gone?

  Father Christmas where have you gone?

  Will I never tell my son,

  Of times gone by, of simpler ways,

  When you reigned supreme each Christmas day?

  Santa came; he took your place,

  He does your job – and with greater haste.

  In colours chosen by market men,

  To sell their drinks in bottles and cans.

  The buzzword now is buy buy buy!

  Spend your money; don’t wonder why.

  Santa Claus in red and white,

  Drinks Coca Cola; he must be right.

  Where is the Map?

  My bones are cold,

  I found it hard to sleep last night.

  My bones are old,

  I’ll need more rest tonight.

  If the weather turns warmer someday soon,

  I might just make it through to June.

  I feel as though my end is neigh,

  If it rains any more I will certainly die.

  Oh, where is the sun, has it forever gone?

  Oh, where is the sun, is it on the run,

  From me and you and them as well?

  Are we living in a self-made hell?
>
  I need the light, I crave the sun,

  There must be more to life than run, run, run,

  Trying to escape the hell of the poverty trap,

  There must be more, oh, where is the map?

  I will find the map!

  Summer Solstice: A Time to Think

  Here I stand,

  All alone,

  Standing proud,

  Looking on.

  No time to stop,

  Or wait awhile,

  No time to rest,

  No time to smile.

  This is my life,

  In recent years,

  No time to stop,

  No time to care.

  A second here,

  A minute there,

  But not enough,

  To show I care.

  I must slow down,

  And use my span,

  To show my feelings,

  For earth and land.

  Holiday Home

  Lazy days,

  Starlight nights,

  Summer ways,

  Magic sights.

  Time to sit,

  To wait a while,

  Time for wit,

  A time to smile.

  Life should be,

  Just always so,

  It CAN be,

  This I know.

  A Hard Life

  I am black,

  I am blind,

  I am a slave that has no free will,

  I work for the good of all, not for the sake of the individual,

  I have no dreams,

  I have no plans,

  I receive no rewards,

  I am conditioned to serve and I do so without complaint,

  Moreover, I will continue to do so until I die,

  I am an ant.

  Tuesday

  Tuesday feelings, a non-type day,

  There is no reason to remember it.

  It is gone before I know,

  Ah, well, that’s how Tuesdays go.

  Wednesday

  It's Wednesday,

  Midweek drunge.

  The worst has passed,

  The best has still to come.

  It's downhill to the weekend fun,

  Freedom from stale drudgery.

  Like Lemmings

  Out in my car; it’s a wonderful day,

  Summer’s about; the beginning of May.

  I gaze in the mirror and see behind me,

  The car close behind wants to overtake me.

  I let him speed by, raining clouds of soft dust,

  But I wonder, so wonder, why all the rush?

  Why do people, like lemmings, drive faster each day,

  Each following the other, without a thought or a say,

  Despite my wonderings I am happy and snug,

  Put, putting along in my slow, little bug.

  Passing Through

  Normal people,

  Passing by,

  Normal persons,

  I wonder why,

  They never question,

  Never see,

  Cannot ponder,

  You or me.

  Their world is full,

  Of senseless pain,

  Pointless work,

  That has no aim,

  There is no rhyme,

  Or reason why,

  All they do is run,

  Not try.

  They need to stop,

  To look around,

  To take the time,

  To feel the ground,

  To see the sky above, so blue,

  To feel God’s love for them; it’s true.

  Sunday 17th April 2005

  It was wet today,

  ‘Cos it