BLOOD ON THE SAND

A silence once again
Not the screams
Of boys and men,
Once more the peaceful land
Without crimson sea
And blood on the sand.
Bone, flesh and naked steel
Twisted and torn
The agony still real,
Stars and stripes and Union flags
Faced the storm an iron hail
Faceless corpses with dogtags.
Never forget them, freedoms fight
Salute these heroes
It's their right,
They laid down their lives
For our rights and liberty
Leaving grieving mothers and wives.
Row upon row of pearl white
Sombre, poignant and peaceful
Like doves of peace in flight,
Laid to rest in military order
The flotsam of a countrys might.
The sun rises day after day
To warm the children of war,
To dance and skip and play
These children play no more
Their souls long since flown away.
Boots once stepped on that foreign land
To restore peace and order,
The bullets flew, ain't war grand
The battles harvest tasted rain
With blood drenched, solemn sand.

Phil Hall  February 2014

FOREVER SOUL

The egg in a cup
The wine that you sup,
The flowers in the vase
The containers when you pass,
Never a never
It's the soul forever.
Inside your coat
Or the sails on a boat,
It's the soul that guides
Until it glides,
Free from the vessel to sever
A star, a soul forever.
Looking from space
No need for a face,
Our aura up high
Like clouds in the sky.
Your container will rot in its hole
But, not forever soul,
It's free
Can't you see
We all have
Forever soul.

Phil Hall  January 2014

SNOW KISS

The fleeting moment
Floating on air,
A kiss.....
As beautiful as the snowflake,
Delicate and vulnerable
Light from a darkened sky.
Each touch.....
A crystalline memory,
A taste of her purity
A promise, a hope
Love that drifts
Kisses that billow,
On a breeze of wonder.
This moment.....
Forever lost
Though forever kept,
Purest of thought
Shining in the lamplight
Millions of frozen kisses
Silently falling.
The snow kiss....
The first to land
The gentlest, sweetest touch
Of tenderness,
Of ones faith
Loves feathery embrace
The merest, faintest taste
And she's gone.

Phil Hall  January 2014

REMEMBER ME

How will you remember me?
My acidic verse or prose?
Or when you pricked your thumb
Upon a thorn
From this vitriolic rose?

My poems set as epitaph
Etched on to granite stone,
Will you shed a tear
Of vinegar
Whilst my skin decays to bone?

My pen did scrawl and scratch
Of history, life, people and birds,
Of comedy and tragedy
All captured
In my random words.

How will you remember me?
A funny man or a bore?
But never, ever
Remember me as;
A glory seeking whore!!

Phil Hall  January 2014

BATTLES END

There is no winner
At battles end,
The bones of armour
Covered by a shroud of flags.
Shield and sword
Lie together in death,
Blood soaked and beaten
Monuments to the fallen.
The grim lifeless forms
Pulse their last,
Broken men whimper
Crawling in agonized circles.
Crows pluck at opaque eyes
Their dark hunched forms cackling,
Whilst dogs sniff and salivate
At the banquet of corpses.
A stillness of heaving intensity
Pervades the sodden charnal field,
Horses stand with heads bowed
Quietly steaming in equine prayer.
A mosaic of limbs gather
Stacked in cruel abandon,
At the foot of a blood soaked banner
The futility in gory evidence for all.
Birdsong pierces the stillness
Trees sway to a new breeze,
As the earth endeavours
To wash the scars of battle away.
Forever tears at battles end
Wives and children lead the dirge,
Whilst leaders sit in ivory halls
Washing the blood from their mind.
"It shall end all wars" they say
Til the next one starts afresh,
New men are scythed and butchered
And the spattered banner flies over the battles end.

Phil Hall  January 2014

TASTE THE COFFEE

Taste the coffee
But I hate the stuff,
It tastes rank
Foreign muck,
Utter wank
Spit or suck.
Give me tea
Anyday,
That's how we roll
Anyway.
The English language
Is mine to say,
Not for you
To have your way.
Hundreds of years
Perfecting it,
French and Latin
Germanic shit,
All moulded in
To do their bit.
But, it's English
And Englands own
A major hit,
And us alone
Can tame its wit.
Taste the coffee
Cream and sugar?
Or bend over
Allow the bugger,
Probably feel
A little smugger.
Instant or grind
A decent cup
Is hard to find,
Give an Englishman tea
Anyday,
Take your coffee
And fade away.

Phil Hall  January 2014

THIS TIME OF YEAR

This time of year
So dank and dismal,
Grey skies and cold
With mood abysmal.
This time of year
New hope came,
Soon dissipated
Work's still the same.
This time of year
Goodwill just a token,
Bombings and death
Resolutions broken.
This time of year
Each day a fight,
So many bills to pay
Money very tight.
This time of year
With its endless sales,
Driving rain
And howling gales.
This time of year
The holiday ad,
Sickly, smiling young things
Really drive me mad.
This time of year
Exercise the promise,
Dieting hard
To be an Adonis.
This time of year
You turn to drink,
As losing weight's
Not as easy as you think.
I think I've made it
Perfectly clear,
I can't bloody stand
This time of year.

Phil Hall  January 2014

MACHETE

MACHETE

I knew a man once

He lived in my street

His name I tend to forgetti,

When he ate food

His habits were crude

He just sucked all day on spaghetti.

He wasn't very clean

He whiffed a bit

Sort of a cheesy hum and sweaty,

Now his lovely wife

Suffered this strife

I think her name was Betty.

He never washed his hair

All greasy and lank

Dandruff fell like confetti,

He drove a battered old car

Pretending to be a formula one star

Like James Hunt or Mario Andretti.

He hardly ever worked

And holidays were rare

Usually a day trip to Pwllheli,

He slobbed about all day

On the sofa he lay

Watching the rubbish on the telly.

One day he was gone

He departed this world

Freedom at last for poor Betty,

She was just like a slave

So, when he wanted a shave

She cut off his head with a machete.

Phil Hall January 2014