YOU COULDN'T MAKE IT UP

YOU COULDN'T MAKE IT UP

The heroes of the Dunkirk rescue

Who piloted the little boats from London’s wharves,

Put their lives at risk for their countrymen.

Unarmed, under fire and now

Unheralded,

For fear of upsetting foreign visitors.

You couldn't make it up.

Centuries of tradition in our countryside,

From chasing a roll of cheese down a hill

To Morris dancers outside a village pub

Are now removed from the calendar.

The faceless lily livered city Councillors

Even changed the Christmas holiday to a ‘Winterval’

You couldn't make it up.

A tax placed on empty rooms in your house,

Oil prices fall, yet our petrol goes up

And the highest road tax in the world.

Yet our roads, oh Lord have mercy our roads

They are potholed and broken like a war zone.

You couldn't make it up.

Yet

We have people allowed to burn poppies

The symbol of our fallen in conflict,

And spit hatred at our glorious dead.

Immigrants can celebrate their festivals with total freedom,

And we give thousands of pounds in housing and handouts

To a known terrorist and his family,

Whilst a woman commits suicide in my country

For not being able to pay her bills.

Welcome to England

No really

You are welcome to it.

You just couldn't make it up.

Phil Hall  May 2013

ALL IN ONE NIGHT

ALL IN ONE NIGHT

All in one night

Though you were so far away,

Just for one night

We fell in love for that single day.

You gave me your world that night

Had we loved for long, who could say?

We kissed under the stars so bright

We knew time was short, you couldn't stay.

So we walked hand in hand

The sea lapped the shore and the palm trees swayed.

All in one night

We made love in a secret dream,

That night I was a king

And you were my queen.

You were across the heavens

But, I held you or so it seemed,

Just for one night

I was the cat who tasted the cream.

Lover of mine for one special night

The feelings were so real,

All in that one night

Your heart I managed to steal.

A passion of cosmic fire

Your moonlit kisses I feel,

All of your love

Just for me in one night.

One night you may come again

To wake me from my sleep,

Another star filled night

Where you above me

Mounted deep,

Will feel a love

To treasure, to take

To need

Keep.

Phil Hall  May 2013

WARRIOR

WARRIOR

My thumb glides over the well worn iron

Of my swords hilt,

A deflection of the evil cast,

As the Saxon wizards dance,

Cursing, spitting and screeching.

One, his hair spiked with cow dung

Thrusts his scrawny hips at us,

Dribbling and pissing into the wind.

The baleful drums echo deep in the vale

Banners, so many banners,

Some just ragged strips flutter unfettered.

I look toward our Druid ghost fence

Built to hold their spirits at bay,

Rotting heads on spear points

 Eagle stones as eyes.

Our line is thin but full

With the finest warriors of Britain,

Stood atop Mynedd Badon

Awaiting the assault from Aelle’s horde.

The stench of mead and ale

From horns in bravado’s draught,

Fire a man to savage quest

The day may be his last.

I stay sober with water from the stream,

A battle is to be won.

Hefted spear with razor point

And ‘Widowmaker’ by my side,

We shuffle into line

Shield against shield.

The Saxons start their march forward

War drums hammering our skulls,

With the roars of ale fired men

Cursing us to our graves.

My brother in arms Culhwych

Linked shield next to me,

At the centre of the line

Plants his foot for the crash.

The shields splinter and the grunting

And shoving begins,

Axes flail, swords thrust

And spears tear out the souls

Sending fallen men to the otherworld.

A brutish fiend of filth and wild eyes

Spits at me through rotted teeth,

“You die worm, I’ll feast on your brain

Then pleasure your woman”

His pain was exquisite

As Culhwych tore out his throat,

The sword leaving a crimson spray

I’m soaked from his bubbling, mewing death.

Spears discarded we are beating down

The Saxons falter under our fury,

My feet slip on entrails

A wounded Saxon crawls in his gore.

His lights extinguished

 An axe crushes his skull.

Arthur, Galahad and Lanval are here

The warriors of the round table,

United to save our Kingdom

 On the stinking, killing field of Badon.

The Saxons line is broken

The carnage of lust begins,

Once proud, armoured warriors now flee

Pursued by a rabid mass hunting death

Lives are ended by the savage blades.

I stand, my blood lust waning

I see a whimpering boy, not a man at all,

His arm severed neatly, his face pathetic

His eyes pleading with me,

As I stand over him, massive and square

 My warrior rings fashioned from vanquished swords

Adorn my fingers.

Blood dripping from ‘Widowmaker’

I smile at him, He begs for water.

I kill him, spinning his soul to Crom Dubh.

Arthur wants Britain free of Saxons,

I am a warrior of Britain

Chrachuan of the round table,

I kill Saxons.

Phil Hall  May 2013

EVERMORE

EVERMORE

Thoughts can reach as far as the sun

Actions may get to the moon,

But try to shine really bright and just run,

 The setting orb disappears all too soon.

Words can crash like the relentless waves

Good deeds cast like driftwood on the shore,

Conclusions of conversations may be bottled and saved

And the results can be felt for evermore.

We are continually bound to this beautiful earth

Our bodies will nourish the ground,

Never waste your time, show off your worth

Then spread a lifetime of yourself all around.

Phil Hall  May 2013

MOVEMENT

MOVEMENT

Moving through life

Is fraught with problems,

Encounters, experiences.

Your life journey

Determined by your body,

Directed by its parts.

In early life

Your mind may have wandered

Harmed your education,

Your eyes may have roved

Looking where they shouldn’t.

Hands roamed

And got you slapped,

Your skin crawled sometimes

With the ugly side of life.

Your heart skipped

When you thought you’d found the one,

And your mouth

Ran away by it self,

With trouble never far.

Your feet just walked

And walked and walked,

Never questioning.

Until one day....

STOP!

The juggernaut shudders

Brakes grind to a halt,

Nothing

All is still.

Then suddenly,

Like a butterfly

Bursting from its shell

On gossamer wings

The spirit soars.

The soul glides

Free from conflict

Free from mortal burdens.

Dancing on the stepping stones

Final movements

Toward eternal peace.

Phil Hall  May 2013

THREE WORDS PART II

THREE WORDS... PART II

When a woman

Needs her man to know

That he’s ok,

He’s who you want

You just have to utter

Three words,

Three little words.

When love is blooming

 When he needs you

His ardour stiffening,

Tell him

He needs to know,

Whisper with love in your soul

Three words.

Your scent is his guide

A rekindled passion

His breathing heavy,

Your love

In thoughts elsewhere

His thrusts enfeebled

He needs your words.

To comfort him,

To speak volumes of your unity,

Your feigned satisfaction

Your thespian gasps

Before the curtain falls
Utter

The three words

“Size doesn’t matter”

Phil Hall  May 2013

THREE WORDS

THREE WORDS

Three words

Just three little words

Can bring peace,

Wedded bliss

Gender harmony,

A pure sense of equality

And of course female satisfaction.

These three words

Too rarely used

In a worsening world,

Where pain

Misunderstanding and distrust

And worthlessness

Are key factors in separation.

The break up

 Of the family home

A mans ignorance,

Just three words

Can bring such pleasure

Refresh an ailing unity

And make her feel special.

So all men

Look your lady in the eye

Smile

And when she speaks,

Put down the remote control

Take your eyes from the TV,

And utter the three words

“Right away dear”

Phil Hall   May 2013

BAG SQUEEZERS

BAG SQUEEZERS

The layman in hospital

Who do they trust?

Why, the nurses of course

And a good surgeon’s a must.

But who is that

Who just saved your wife?

She’d had a cardiac arrest

And they brought her back to life.

Who’s that woman

Treating your Dad on Intensive care?

The one relieving his pain

As he’s lay ventilated there.

It’s the one who, in the operating theatre

Sends you off to sleep,

The one you don’t think is a doctor,

It’s the Anaesthetist

The Physician with your life to keep.

So

If you think they’re just

 Bag squeezers,

Then remember this

A surgeon is just a man

With a knife and some tweezers.

Patient “Your life in their hands”

Surgeon “Their Knife in your glands”

Anaesthetist “No pain, your gain”

Phil Hall  May 2013

WHY THE CHILDREN

WHY THE CHILDREN?

Why the children?

Tell me Lord

Why the children?

All I hear is

Its Gods will

 It’s because of our sins.

What, a parent’s agony?

Or a nations grief?

Please stop taking the children.

When will the debt be paid?

Floods and famine

Tsunami and tornado,

War and wrath

All take our young.

Is this your harvest Lord?

What is faith?

Why give prayers?

Will they keep our children safe?

You gave your son to save the world,

I just ask this

If children still have to die

Did your son die in vain?

Phil Hall  May  2013

SEREN

SEREN

I look to the sky

I look to the stars

One star

Seren.

I can almost touch her

Almost

Though Seren is out of reach,

Her beauty is eternal

Hera, Andromeda even Nefertiti

Dimmed into darkness by

Seren.

I’m intoxicated by her

A forlorn hope,

Will I survive the breach?

All I know is her

Shining

Singing to my soul

A love in spirit

A love in mere words

Seren

What tongue will you hear?

Ayattw Seren

Ti amo Seren allieva

Ich liebe dich Seren

Je t’aime Seren

No, none of the above.

Only

I love you Seren

Jag alskar dig Seren.

You shine eternal.

Phil Hall  May 2013

I'M REINCARNATE

I’M REINCARNATE

My life is but an echo

A pulse through time and space,

Surging through millennia

I’m in a never ending race.

How many times have I walked the Earth?

Is this my only face?

Was I ever a saintly man?

Or banished in disgrace?

Until this echo fades away

My tail I’ll constantly chase,

And because I don’t know who I am

I’ll never know my place.

Phil Hall  May 2013
Copyright: Philthepoet61.blogspot.com

OCEAN

OCEAN

( Man is just one drop in the ocean of life )

Man is ocean

Woman is the sea,

Our life cycle is water

Through aqueous time be.

Rivers our veins

Lakes are the pools of our mind,

The depths still uncharted

What lies below for mankind?

Our ocean sometimes polluted

Seas so swollen and full,

The moon controls our future

Life giving tides our yearly pull.

Our ocean is the membrane

For our heart and soul within,

The wonder of the seas

Was where all life did begin.

We are made up mostly of water

It makes us what we are,

Close your eyes and listen

The ocean is never far.

Phil Hall  May 2013

A STEP IN TIME

A STEP IN TIME

A worn and weather beaten stile

Gnarled hand holds of lichen crust,

Sits waiting patiently in an ancient meadow,

For strolling lovers, swept along

On blissful summer breeze.

Its friend the oak, of wise countenance

Huffs his leaves, he’s seen it all before,

Whereas the stile, he kisses the feet

As they take the step in time.

For centuries he has watched

Loves young dream carried above him,

The next meadow to wedded bliss

But, the oak has seen a different path.

The meadow a killing field,

Where love lies in squalid trench

Where what was Smile is grin of death.

All feet have trodden o’er the stile

With the oak shaking a sermon in the wind.

Though today, as the sunlight

Drips in molten shards through

The oaks fingered leaves, he just quivers.

Summer is here, hum of bee and bug

Nuthatch relieves his itching bark,

As lovers approach hand in fair hand

He offers shelter and shady nook.

The stile and the Oak like old dowagers

Offer a knowing glance,

They give this love a blessing

The step in time

Given a chance.

Phil Hall  May 2013