Poetry - Self-penned:

One Way or T'Other - (15/05/1972):

The bombs they grow larger
The weapons of war
Grow bigger and harsher
Like a cancerous sore.

And yet, we, the people
Are prepared to look on
Never heeding nor caring;
Its not us that they'll bomb.

Yet the few that do care
Are jeered at with scorn
And accused of subversion
Of 'conchies' the spawn.

Can the world then not see
The bomb, but then maybe
If we don't die by fire
It'll be by the baby.


Blue Train - (15/05/1972):

Through the empty blackness, travelling
All alone.
Now I've just left the girl I love.
Hear the whistle moan.

High up in that freight car, travelling
All alone.
Left my girl without a word.
Hear them drive wheels moan.

Hear that engine thrumming, travelling
All alone.
Section signals ringing, sadly,
Travelling away from home.

Hear those rail-gaps clicking, travelling
All alone.
Now I find its her I love.
Wish I was going home.


The Shooting Of Govenor Wallace - (15/05/1972):

Eye witness accounts
Eye witness accounts
Can these be bought with large amounts
Of money, that's found in other men's pants?
And thus are these stories as those of blind ants
Untrue, and yet called "Eye witness accounts".


Holidays - 15/05/1972

Its holiday time, and with frustrated thanks
We make our ways down to the sewage and banks
Of mud and slutch, excreta and foam;
I think this year I'll just stay at home.


Headache? - (16/05/1972):

As I woke up this morning
And leaned back in my bed
There came a dull throbbing
Another pain in my head.

With eyes barely open
Unable to see
The sunshine was deadly
As the sting of a bee.

As frozen steel needles
Are pulled through my brain
That deep, dark, dull throbbing
Comes time and again.

The little men are working
In my head, deep inside
Their hammers are crashing
Like the roar of the tide.

So many hours later
As that tide ebbs away
I feel as weak as a kitten
Thanks to migraine today.


Breaktime - (11-06-1972):

Monday morning comes around
With mooning faces people wander
From office to office and down
To vending machines to squander
Portions of their hard-earned pittance
On cups of lukewarm ooze.


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