The Ferryman

I plan on working into this one much more, exploring the themes I bring up in this.

I once was a miner, working for my bread and dripping

Those days are long past now, memories clouded in my head

All I remember is heat, cloying moist and noise

Men, friends tearing asunder the earth, stripping coal, ash and bone

When I was a boxer, my face was beaten and scarred

A pugilist, a fighter, my actions should have seen me behind bars

All I remember is pain, the baying crowd, doctors, coaches

My body beaten apart, broken pride, heart and bone

I became a soldier, fighting, killing the enemy, just men

I force down the memories, obliterated with Whisky and Gin

But I still dream of the terror, the mustard gas and shrapnel

Friends torn to pieces, forced to the ground, stripping flesh, skin and bone

But first I was a hunter, trapping vermin on the lords lands

I cherish the memories, as a father I held family in my heart

I shut out the screams of foxes, the baying of hounds

Nature ripped to shreds, moss covered in fur, blood and bone

But now I am the ferryman

Two coppers for a ride

I take not your body

But your very essence of being

No skin, no face, no bone.

Chill Winds

Let's start with an old published one....it should in theory be good.

I stand stock still, and stare

At endless fields of white marble

And move throughout the pristine avenues

Beauty paired with sadness hit me like a blow.

A cat strolls amongst the headstones

Oblivious of the significance

Of the place it calls home

Pauses to stare at falling cherry blossom

Like souls, dancing with the wind

The same chill wind, that blows through the valley

Down from pristine French mountains

Causes the tourists to wrap warmer

While paying simple respects.

Slowly I bend, to replace

One of three stones, fallen from a Jewish grave

Whilst I don't know what it means

I know it should be there

The very least I can do for this man

So long gone, yet forgotten not, never

Thanks to this one stone, one tooth

In the grinning maw of war

What these men I am sure would give

To feel this chill wind again

Is more than we can understand

The statues in the aisles

Smile so serenely

Give new beauty

In a place rife with death.

It's based upon a WW2 cemetery I went to in northern France, probably the most beautiful one I've ever seen.

Colleville-sur mer. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Normandy_American_Cemetery_and_Memorial

Hi everyone

So, this is my new blog. I'm actually committed to updating it frequently this time. Honestly.

It's mostly going to be for poetry I've written, both old published stuff, and things that I write when I fancy.

Thanks for reading this, thanks for your time, and thanks for your feedback.