BARBARIAN

Here I sit
Awaiting death.

Slime drips down cold walls
Distant roars of crowd and beast,
The stench
Of human filth and fear
A brew mixed in this gory feast.

Beetles scurry
In the sand at my feet.

My eyes strain
In the feeble light,
Drifting thoughts of home
The burning, the screaming
And the desperate, hopeless fight.

I dry my hands in sand
To grip my sword better.

To my land Albina
Came a leathern horde,
Bristling plumes, ordered spear
They called us 'Barbarian'
Killed our women with their sword.

A tear falls from my bearded face
My Morwenna lies dead far away.

I slaughtered many that day
My bearskin dripping Roman blood,
But I was felled by a legion
And dragged here to fight for them
In the arena, they say I'm good.

I pray to my Gods
I remember the moonlit henge.

I will return there in death
To walk the stones as if in life,
Though I kill whoever faces me
The mob, baying pack roar acclaim
But, I kill in memory of my wife.

They call me 'Vir Gigas'
The crowd are screaming my name.

My true name is Cynbel of Belgae
Tribal chief and warlord,
Now just a slave, a pawn of death
Selected to fight the Gladiator
To battle for life, sword on sword.

I step through the gates of hell
Into the cauldron of debauchery.

I look at my killers in waiting
I smile as I sense their voiding fear,
They circle me looking for weakness
But I strike with a wolf like howl
Killing with a lunge to great cheers.

All three lie slain
For I am Vir Gigas... The giant man.

A son of Albina, I stalk the dais
Promising death to all on high,
These sons of Rome in togas
And their whores lying all around
This Barbarian wants to die.

My bloodied spear is thrown
As I scream the curses of Brittania.

My life soon to be over
As a phalanx march toward me,
I charge. keening my battle cry
A bearskin clad, dread warrior
From far across the sea.

I see the stones before me
Morwenna smiling brightly.

I am home, walking the groves
Of beech, ash, and the mighty oak,
Back in beautiful Albina
My wife, she walks beside me
In deaths comforting cloak.

Phil Hall  April 2014

TITS

I love tits
I love them all,
How they bounce about,
Be they large
Or small.
They move
In a perky, jerky style,
Watching them
Playful and pert everyday
They always make me smile.
So for tits everywhere
My adulation in written word,
Thank you
For bringing me pleasure
You adorable little bird.

Phil Hall  March 2014

MOTHER

Mother

A mother
Is just like the air,
You don't have
To see her,
To know
That she's there.
And just
Like the air,
A mother
Gives us life,
Love, protection
And is free
With her care.

Phil Hall March 2014

COLOURS

I'm feeling blue,
It's because of you,
I'm green with envy
I'm in a frenzy
All because of you.
You're in the pink
That's what I think,
Whiter than white
Whilst I have to fight
My feelings on the brink.
No turning back
My mood cold and black,
Face flushed and red
This is over.... Dead
New life, changing tack.
Some say I'm yellow
Not the old stout fellow,
No more purple patch
Loves door left on the latch
The song drifts cool and mellow.
Life can arc like a rainbow
Colours bending toward fools below,
There's no pot of gold
Browned off with the crap I'm sold
Mix and match a big fat no no.
Drenched by lifes cold grey rain
Where's the sun when I'm in pain?
Show your true colours mate
Before it's too late
Don't let tears cause them to stain.

Phil Hall  March 2014

MATELOT

The 'Spithead nightingale's' call
As she slips out to sea,
Grey as the clouds hanging above
Salient emotions on the quay.
Matelot's in line on the deck
As 'Invincible' glides so proud,
The Ensign slaps in agitation
And the nation sings aloud.
Once again Britannia is at war
And the sea holds all the aces,
Warships hear our peoples cry
In whatever hostile places.
Wives and children send kisses
To their heroes standing tall,
The bulwark of Great Britain
Our Royal Navy defends us all.
Steel hulls, when once was oak
Salt in the blood, rum and tar,
Conning tower and radars
Replace the blocks and spar.
Mariners stare with weather eye
And old salts salute the Jack,
The families pray to the union flag
That God will bring them back.
Royal Marines sail off to battle
The dreaded green berets,
Per mare, per terram
First into any bloody foray.
The sun dips o'er the yardarm
And the fleet is under way,
Nelson laid the foundations
Britannia always wins the day.
Matelots stare to the distant horizon
Omens emblazoned on fiery sky,
Invincible the heroic flagship
The reason is to do, not to ask why?
Resolute and steady as ever
The senior service of iron might,
Some ships will never return
But, all are prepared to fight.
Matelots of stout heart, so brave
Our navy of history and fame,
They're what made Britain great
They're what gave us our name.
HMS Brilliant, Andromeda et al
Joined Invincible in this story,
All now in our hearts and history
Alongside the legendary Victory.
To all our Matelots and Bootnecks
You're still the masters of the sea,
Protectors of this mighty Isle
Thank you defenders of the free.
Phil Hall March 2014.

SEVENTH SENSE

My eyes feast upon you
Every contour excites
I want to taste and devour
Your sweet delights.
The sound of your pleasure
Is the measure,
The music to my ears
And the smell
Of your passion, pure lust
Dispels any lingering fears.
It means so much
The tingle
When I touch,
And I know its right
As do you
Our shared flights
Of fancy and joy always new.
We feel one more
A seventh sense
Felt deep in our core,
When love is real
And how you feel
When you just know
That you've found the one
The one for evermore.

Phil Hall  April 2014

LEAP OF FAITH

Even atheists pray,
Well, at least they utter
Gods name,
Jesus gets a mention
Although it's usually
Profane.
Your God
My God,
They're all about the same,
Everlasting life
And spiritual peace
Is the proud and boastful claim.
But,
In order to enter heaven
You actually have to die,
And nobody has come back to life
To tell us
It's all a lie.
I suppose
I'm a bit of a sceptic
My faith being full of doubt,
Innocent children die needlessly
And terrorists are free to kill
What on earth is that all about?
Please God
Give us a leap of faith
Send a sign to show you're there,
Forget the plague of locusts
And the biblical floods
Send a miracle cure to show you really care.

Phil Hall  March 2014

PORN STAR

Do you remember the seventies?
Can you look back that far?
When skinny men with moustache's
Were the ubiquitous porn star.
With terrible, inane dialogue
And music bordering on tripe,
They'd turn up at a woman's house
With the intention of fixing a pipe.
Of course the housewife was busty
And her garments were soon shed,
As the plumber got his tool out
She dragged him off to bed.
The sex resembled a car crash
Lots of groans and oohs and aahs,
As the sweaty, wrestling combatants
Were joined by two more 'stars.'
At this point in adult cinemas
Right hand frantically  employed,
Dirty old men in raincoats
Soon became overjoyed.
Nowadays they're much slicker
With film titles not so banal,
Like "Shaving Ryans Privates"
And the mindboggling "Charlie's Anal".
The stars have exotic names also
Like Ben Dover and Cindy Suck,
And the acting's still really bad
But, they're only supposed to f***.
The perks and money are good
This growth industry doesn't slack,
You can earn a fortune in cash
Just laying on your back.
Though there are specialties
A couple of them spring to mind,
Like dwarf throwing and golden rain
Even stranger ones are easy to find.
The seventies and its cheesy films
Are the ones I remember best,
Especially 'Chesty Morgan'
And her enormous droopy chest.
Phil Hall  March 2014

IN MY HEAD

I'm sure there are strangers
Running riot in my head,
I can't believe
Some of the things
I've done or said!
I call people names
Like tosser or twat,
It just happens
So amazing to think
I'd say something like that.
It isn't me lifting your skirt
And copping a quick feel,
It's my inner demons
Out of control
It's no big deal.
You will blame me I know
But it's not true,
As its a complete stranger
And not me
Who's fondling you.
It wasn't me
Who stole your new bike,
Kicked the heads off your flowers
Pissed through your letterbox
Call the police if you like.
They can't arrest
The voices in my brain,
I'll just run in a circle
Screaming "Choo choo!!!"
Pretending I'm a train.
They'll think I'm crazy
They'll just say I'm mad,
But I'll wink my eye at you
Spit in your face
And continue being bad.
I can get away with anything
Its the strangers can't you see?
My parents despair
But, they were soft as shit
A peaceful life to pacify me.
Teachers are even worse
Scared that I'll sue their ass,
They can't instill discipline
Their threats pathetic
As I disrupt the class.
You created these strangers
Yeah, you lot.... Society,
With your liberal rubbish
About punishments and stuff
I've rights you see.
These strangers are fiction
They're not really there,
I'm just a spoilt little bastard
Who needed a good slap
And today there are millions like me
Everywhere.

Phil Hall  March 2014

SIMPLICITY

Lying here
Lying here alone,
The morning just awakening
Aching mind, ageing bone.
Feeble light
Slithers through the curtains,
What does the day hold?
I'm not sure, uncertain.
Can't be bothered
Be bothered to move,
There appears to be a scratch
In my physical groove.
I've no spark
Spark or inner electricity,
My minds inner sanctum
Confused without simplicity.
Thoughts float about
I pluck one from the air,
Make some tea it says
If I could have a care.
A yawn, a scratch
Oh such hedonistic artistry
Singular hand picked pleasure
If all was such simplicity.
So now I have to move
If only to save the sheet,
But rarely a nightmares combat
Leave them very neat.
Pins and needles
Surge through my toes,
When one reaches an age
That's how life goes.
The stumbling gait
Accompanies the short walk,
Into the bathrooms sanctuary
Without the morning stalk.
Handheld lean and half asleep
Concentrating on the aim,
A bladder the size of a beachball
Emptying with sighed acclaim.
Reflective morning gargoyle
Stares back in electrums grin,
Gnarled hand rubs gingerly
Over rough and grizzled chin.
Eyes, which surely dipped in gravel
Try to focus without success,
And sleep filled, birdnest hair
Completes the hideous mess.
Staggered eblutions over
Time to don the attire,
Unwashed T shirt, unironed jeans
This complacent style I can aspire.
This is it, this is life
The struggle to maintain simplicity,
The daily grind and lifestyle rigors
The loss of youth a pity.

Phil Hall  March 2014

DISCOVERING YOU

I wish to sail
To sail the ocean,
The ocean of your mind.
Your mind of storms
Of stormy waters,
Waters so deep
Deep in which I find
Find the real you.
I wish to fly
To fly to your heart,
Heart of fragile glass.
Glass which can shatter
Where I discover
And cannot let pass
Pass the real you.
I wish to walk
To walk holding hands with you,
With you to find your soul.
Soul as deep as the ocean
The ocean i have sailed
Sailed you as a whole
A whole life
I want with you.

Phil Hall  March 2014

SOMBRE WALK

The sun was shining
As I walked home from the shop,
A hearse bedecked in mournful suit
Brought me to a respectful stop.
The flower festooned coffin
Silent dignity on its final ride,
A pause for contemplation
A prayer for who had died.
Shades of black peered from the car
Tears shed by a solemn family,
The pain, the hollow eyes and grief
Too soon for the memory.
The birds sang a lilting dirge
Proclaiming the season of new life,
Whilst below the pangs of sorrow
Severed unity and love like a knife.
My own mortality did I see
Darkness can't be forever defied,
One day it'll be my funeral march
I faltered in my stride.
Trees, filtered by a wafer thin sun
Cast doubt on my earlier talk,
Of long life and new found joy
With head bowed in a sombre walk.
Phil Hall  March 2014

SPUN GOLD

My dad told me
It was spun gold,
Until deep in the porcelain
I saw the lies that were told.

You stared at me
Babbling a silent speech,
I mouthed back at you
Trying to teach.
You were my friend
With huge, unblinking eyes,
Very sad looking
Though one who never cries.
Occasionally you'd develop spots
Grow a large silver belly,
You'd wedge into your house
And wouldn't watch the telly.
There were days you were big
At times you appeared small,
Then There was the time
You weren't there at all.
It was then that my Dad
Told me about spun gold,
The reasons for the spots
And other variations I was sold....

You see,
It was when one day
I went to the loo,
Dad was standing over it
With my goldfish too.
It was lay quite still
In my Dads big hand,
Why wasn't he in his bowl?
This I didn't understand.
Then suddenly he dropped
And the toilet immediately flushed,
I called out pleading "No!!"
As to the bowl I rushed.
There was "Goldie" spinning
In the gurgling whirlpool,
How often had Dad done this
I felt such a fool.
"He's now spun gold son"
"Going to join his friends in fishy heaven"
I snuffled and sniffed and cried
But I was only seven.
I knew my Dad meant well
Hiding my fishes demise from me,
But I'd have rather buried "Goldie"
Than flush him down the lavatory.

Phil Hall  March 2014

BLUEBIRD

She's my lady
My bluebird,
A reliable girl
Never utters a word
Her velvet touch
She's warm within,
A smooth ride
I love her skin.
I've had others
Better looking and racier,
But, my bluebird sings
I love her.
Another had her once
Before me I know,
Were they lovers?
I couldn't say so.
She waits patiently
In the snow and rain,
And when I turn her on
She cries aloud again.
My hands touch her
She responds to my caress,
We race to heaven together
Her buttons I press.
She's even met my girl
Who also fell in love,
My bluebird wrapped around her
They fit like hand in glove.
Dearest bluebird, you're my steed
My umbilical cord,
My trusty lady, you cared for us
Bluebird, my ever reliable Ford.

Phil Hall March 2014