TWILIGHT

Heavenly twilight,
The horizontal highlight
Of lay thinking
And looking through the
Skylight.
Last rays of sundown,
Feeling kind of rundown
With a downturned smile
Like a sad old
Clown.
Darkening sky and heavy rain,
Watering down my joint pain,
My life pouring away
Down this mortal
Drain.
Distant heavens shine from afar
Age old light from dying star,
A conjured dream of flying
High on the wings of a
nightjar.
Curtains fall with billowing cloud,
Storm is brewing, flaming shroud
Cumulonimbus drum roll, malevolent fury loud, so
Loud.
Tempest spits its thunderbolt,
Flashing images of lightning jolt
Artistic ozone savagery
Pegasus painted, the emblazoned 
Colt.
Here's where the Gods bless
The mystical realm of darkness,
Where twilight slides away
Into a netherworld of shadowed
Recess.
Witches brews and augeries
Entomb the fading imagery,
An English early summer evening
Consigned to the depths of
Memory.
So I say farewell, goodnight
Til we meet again dear twilight,
The shutters coming down
On heavens beautiful and gratis
Delight.
Phil Hall  May 2014

NOTHING TO SAY

Hey!
I've not gone away,
Just ran out of words
I've nothing to say.
But I'll be back
I'll come back and play,
Maybe not tomorrow,
Some other day.
It's a bit like a bird
Who's forgotten how to sing
Or it just flaps on the ground
Because, she's lost the use
Of her wings.
Like the frog
Who's forgotten how to jump,
Its legs set like stone
An immovable warty lump.
Or a fish
That cannot swim,
It sits on the bottom of the water
Looking quite dim.
Then there's the snail
Who's lost his shell,
He now looks like a slimy slug
Now that'd be just hell.
You see I just cannot think
Of anything to write,
I've lost my modjo
Mislaid my poetic light.
A bit like the bear
With an almighty sore head,
He needs a good sleep
But Goldilocks has his bed.
Or just like Pinnochio
Who was carved from the trees,
And when it rains
He gets mildew on his knees.
How about Rapunzel
Who wanted to escape, But!
Just before being locked in the tower
She'd had her hair cut.
The poor gingerbread man
Who looked so good to eat,
His escape plan was foiled
When they bit off his feet.
My mind is numb
From losing my writing libido,
I suppose I could sleep like snow white
Hoping it'll re grow.
I feel a bit like Ginger Rogers
Who nobody would have a care,
If she danced the night away
Without the late, great Fred Astaire.
Or even The lone ranger
He'd be useless of course,
Chasing after all the bad guys
Without Silver, his trusty white horse.
Captain Kirk without his Spock
Even Fred without good old Barney,
Terminator would be a heap of scrap
If it wasn't for muscle bound Arnie.
And if his gloves didn't have any blades
Freddy Kruger would be a wimp,
Whilst Tarzan would be a lonely man
Without cheetah, his crazy pet chimp.
Strawberries and no cream
Tangerine without a dream,
Taylor minus Burton,
Window missing a curtain.
Bonnie less Clyde
Ticket not to ride,
Goliath beating David
And Billy isn't a kid.
So,
One day
I just may
Have something to say.
But,
'Til then
I'll say again,
It's one hell of a fight
To think of something
To write.
Alright!!
I'll say goodnight.

Goodnight.

Phil Hall  May 2014

SLAUGHTER AND THE DOGS

Spiked disorder
Utter disgrace,
Spitting and violence
Contorted face.
Beer and vomit
Cigarette fog,
Screeching guitars
Slaughter and the dogs!!
Snarl at society
Like Sid and Nancy,
Ripped Tee and jeans
Nothing fancy.
Vivid colours
Blacked up eye
Badges telling the world
To "Fuck off and die!"
Slouching shoulders
Vengeful anarchy,
Safety pins and chains
Answer always "Why should we?"
School yard rebellion
To the police, a single finger,
Crazed looks of Johnny Rotten
You're a dead ringer.
The youth of today!!
Always a wasted generation,
Ghosts of gangs, threatening
Midnight down in the tube station.
Your girl like Polly Styrene
Red slash of lipstick, torn fishnets,
Private school dropout, a whore
That's as good as it gets.
So, shove your rules and regulations
Pop the blueys, stoned or drunk,
All you squares can kiss my ass
I'm not like the rest of you, I'm punk.
We'll be back, the fashion plague
Just another turn on the style cogs,
When the latest trend changes again
A new Slaughter and the dogs.
A last word from UK punks
"We don't care what we do
Don't give a shit what we say,
So fuck you and fuck the whole world too!!"
Phil Hall  May 2014

IRON MAN

Stories told
He's a heart of gold,
Well, now he's older
He's even bolder.
Years filled
He's iron willed,
Gone the flowing locks
More a silver fox.
He'd slap her ass
Flash the brass,
It's been said
His pencil was still full of lead.
A copper in the force
Showed little remorse,
He kept on an even keel
With nerves of steel.
An Englishman to the core
Eyes of molten ore,
The soul within
Pure as Cornish tin.
In death he'll rust
Not turn to dust,
Fading bronzed tan
Your English iron man.

Phil Hall  May 2014.

SEA OF GREEN

Cloudy day
Children at play,
Running crazy
On a sea of green.
Vacant eyes on clock face
His hands flap
And time races by.
Vapour trails
Snails in the sky
Ha ha ha,
Certain of the custard pie
Flying high
Splat!!
One in the eye.
Our laughter bottled
Pickled
And opened next millennium,
Do you say hi?
Do I say why?
Oops!!
What's that sticking out of your fly?
Open that bottle
Laugh aloud,
Unscrew all the lids
Hear the crowd.
See that girl?
Is that why
You're standing proud?
She said no!
You gotta go,
No good crying
Making a show.
Footsteps
Children's games,
Dancing on the sea of green,
Pirates, princesses
Dirty knees and party dresses,
Knickers seen
Oh so keen.
Church on Sunday
School on Monday,
Dance and sing
On summers sun ray.
The footsteps of youth
Tell so much truth,
Distant tale, never stale
Footsteps
Heard, but rarely seen
Footsteps
On a sea of green.
Phil Hall  May 2014

BLIND DATE

I sigh
I cry
Why me?
Why?
I thought
I sought
Oh God no!
Not my eye.
Mistake
Just a headache
Stay calm
I'll try.
What a state
Blind date
Feel like
I could die.
Salvation came
With designer frame,
Sight restored
Although flawed
Things will never quite
Look the same.

Phil Hall  May 2014

SPECKS OF DUST

We are like ants
Specks of dust
If you will,
Put on this earth
To procreate
And Pay the endless bills.
Eternal vacuum cleaner
Pulls us all
On the final day,
Who aims the hose?
It's the almighty I suppose
Who has the final say.
Maybe it's the dark angel
Sweeping with hellish dustpan
And satanic broom,
Alongside cigarette butts
And sticky chewing gum
This speck is full of gloom.
Life, its cards dealt
From embryonic pack
It's like a busted flush,
Blurry vision
And aching joints
Daisies are starting to push!
We're just dust
Like scurrying ants
Running about 'til we die,
So, whether I'm burned
Or in a casket buried
My speck of soul will float about in the sky.

Phil Hall  May 2014

BRIDGE OF SWORDS

Armour discarded
Bloodied mail lay in abandon,
I face the Bridge of Swords.
The light from the sentinel
Envelopes my naked form,
No sign of the blow that claimed me
For I am dead, free from pain.
I look back
Where death and hurt lay broken,
Fire, smoke and screaming men
Clouded by this ethereal veil.
So this is death
Where coldness grips your spirit
Though,
All I feel is warmth, serenity and joy.
A horn sounds as does the drum
And I step forward, toward light,
My shadowbody in silvery glow
The Gods have summoned me.
Skulls of my kills smile as I pass
Fire breathes from hollow eyes,
The keen blade clasped in hand
A glistening executioner.
Fresh armour awaits me
Gleaming in Valhallas feasting hall,
A horn of ale overflowing
And my warhounds howl as wolves.
My warband are here
Singing like a baying pack,
We are the victorious dead
Fame is ours, the eternal warriors.
I have entered the otherworld
A lord of war no more,
Forever to feast with the gods
After crossing the bridge of swords.

Phil Hall  July 2014

MONDAY MORNING

It'll take hours
Take hours for these aches to go,
The struggle getting out of my head
And it feeling like an unmade bed
The knees creak, rusty and slow.
The sky is grey
Grey and miserable, I can't talk,
My mouth the floor of a birdcage
My brain in neutral, can't engage
No instructions on how to walk.
The gait of a zombie
A zombie, rotten yet undead,
Staggering about, arms outstretched
A look in the mirror, nearly retched!
Are those my eyes bloodshot and red?
The radio grates
Grates like steel on my mind,
Its drone in the background
Whilst I'm staggering around
Hunting for the sock I can't find.
Just another Monday
Another awful Monday morning,
Too much beer, oh what a slob!
Nausea sets in, I hate my job
I just can't stop bloody yawning!
Don't you dare
Don't you dare smile or give a wave
Don't talk either as I'll be rude
I need my tea and breakfast food
Can't be arsed to have a shave.
Mind you
Mind you I have to say,
It isn't just Mondays anymore
I'm finding life a grind and a chore
I'm the same now, every bleedin' day!
Phil Hall  May 2014

HAVEN

This is sanctuary
A haven from furrowed brow,
Where nature claims its foothold
Stress in backseat now.
Ones mind drifting
Filtering noise so loud,
Where patterns dance overhead
Painted by wandering cloud.
A minute spent in my haven
Clearing the head, feeling fine,
I can walk on water
Then turn it into wine.
Colour displayed in a rainbows coat
With the scent to match its splendour,
All negativity and sadness
Is returned with interest to sender.
My little haven
This tiny patch of land,
Although it was created by my labours
It's blessed by Gods strong hand.

I'M SO, SO IN LOVE WITH YOU

The joy
The incredible feeling
I have deep inside,
Although my heart
Is often torn apart
Its something
I just can't hide,
I'm so,
So in love with you.
When I think of you
I smile
Lit up like the golden mile,
That style
You tie the strings
You beguile,
Its true
I'm so,
So in love with you.
I tingle
When I see you,
A beautiful sight
My heart takes flight,
Gliding over clouds
And parting the shrouds
It's obvious
Joyous,
I'm so,
I'm so in love with you.
I hear you
The birdsong in your voice,
I've no choice
But to love you.
So when I'm blue
I call your name
You're to blame
Why
I'm so,
So in love with you.
Is it clear?
I want you
I need you to be here,
Your eyes
Bejewelled fireflies
Show true love,
Blessed from above
I just want you to know
You make my heart glow.
Angel
I'm so
I'm so in love with you.

Phil Hall  May 2014

BRAIN DEAD

My head is empty
My mind is blank,
My thoughts all boarded up
Behind a literal plank.

Nothing to be written
Even less can be said,
The cogs have rusted over
This man is brain dead.

A writer who's prolific
Often controversial and crass,
The pen now redundant
I'm just sat scratching my ass.

The grey matter is just a husk
There's little else to give,
The brain has deceased
It's been strained through a sieve.

The thunder has rolled on
Dissipated over the hills,
It isn't the end of the world though
As my writing never paid the bills.

So, I'll sever my artistic artery,
The final page upon which I've bled,
The body will still transport me
But the brain is literally dead.

Phil Hall  May 2014

GIRL ON GIRL ACTION

Ho ho ho
This only goes to show,
The fetishist fascination
About girl on girl action
Has you visiting my blog
Like a slavering dog.
My attempts at creativity
Coupled with naivity,
Never gained respect
But, this popular subject,
Even though I've lied
And nearly laughed until I cried
Got my blog many hits
So thanks, I'm thrilled to bits.
If you came to seek a thrill
Tough luck,
Its just another poem
By me.
Phil. Xx

Phil Hall  May 2014

THE COMMODITY

I'm sick of this
Of being an oddity,
Just a lump of meat
This governments' commodity.
Ending up in a grave
After years
Of being their slave,
Paying tax on everything
Is something
I don't crave...
Yep
I'm just a bloody commodity.
It doesn't matter
Who's in power
Labour, Tory or Liberal
They're all a useless shower.
Conjuring ways to bleed you dry
Sat fiddling in ivory towers,
They treat us all the same
We're just cash cows
Commodities.
Sent to wars
We didn't want
Just to be pumped with lead,
This conflict is a just one
That's what they said.
But, it's never
Their children leading the line
No, it's our loved ones
In body bags,
The ones that come back dead.
Spent commodity.
From the day you were born
Just an ingredient
In their daily bread,
Like an ear of corn
Milled and ground
Just a pawn
In the chess set of life,
A commodity.
So all in all
I'm sick of it,
I've worked for years
And put up
With all their shit.
I've paid my dues
Done my bit,
Once my death duties
Have been paid
On my grave they'll spit....
And it'll all be replayed
With
A new commodity.

Phil Hall  May  2014

LINDISFARNE

Cold and broody
Always moody,
Desolate and bleak
Craggy like weathered teak
I am island
I am Lindisfarne.
My mind is fortified
Story glorified,
Murder and death
In a single breath
Holy isle
Lindisfarne.
Her tears of rain
Centuries of pain,
First scratched with quill
The story told still
I am island
I am Lindisfarne.
The wind sings in the creak
Of beauty it speaks,
Where the curlews call
Haunts the hearts of all
On this holy isle
Of Lindisfarne.
We survived the Viking sword
They couldn't sever bonding cord,
Dragon head under single sail
I have lived to tell the tale
The spirit of an island
Lindisfarne,
The holy isle
The beautiful island,
I am Lindisfarne.

Phil Hall  May 2014

GREED

The haves full of greed
The have nots empty of feed,
African kids with big eyes
Even bigger empty tummys
Lips covered in flies.
We have huge stomachs
And even bigger eyes,
Whilst we gorge on junk food
Another starving child dies.
This greed is everywhere
The gross inequality
So easy to see,
From bariatric operations
To obesity highlighted on TV.
Grain mountains stored in silos
To fish caught over quota left to rot,
Subsidies given to farmers not to grow
This is how bad it's got.
Unhealthy kids sedentary
In front of a computer screen,
Spoilt brats without a care
Grossly overweight, it's obscene.
In places children walk miles
To get their family's water
Whilst parents bury the body of their malaria ravaged daughter.
This has been the same for years
It'll never ever change,
Suited self promoters only speak of it
When votes are within range.
The geographical inequality
Where so many are in need,
Nothing will ever be done about it
All because of selfishness and greed.

Phil Hall  May 2014

FANTASY

That first touch
Breathing heavy,
Afraid and yet
Eyes steady,
They close
And drift away.
Adult thoughts
Tremulous thighs,
Sobs and sighs
Squirming with heat
Is that lust in your eyes?
Quivering lip
Stroked by a moist tongue
Though only the tip,
Your gasps and moans
Accompany the sweet flow
So strong
So wrong,
Oh so very wrong.
The silken lace triangle
Sculptured to your form in white,
Unfolds hesitantly
To reveal the purest delight.
Untouched, unsoiled
Petals from the delta of Venus itself,
I cup my hands beneath you
And carry you from the shelf.
Your head settles on the pillow
Naked and trembling on cool sheet,
From chastity to womanhood
Stolen moments, fantasy replete.

Phil Hall  May 2014

SHE'S CALLING ME

The cobalt ocean
Under savage cloud,
Drifting dunes
Jagged rock
Gulls raw throat, aloud.
Passion and death
A soul running free,
Crashing waves
Taste of a cruel sea,
Cornwall, my earthen heaven
She sings to me.

Wild sky
Wilder land,
Heaven on earth
Rugged tor
Or golden sand.
Legend and lore
Whatever it be,
Misty moors
The song of the sea.
Kernow is calling
She's calling me.

Phill Hall   May 2014



I SAW YOU COMING

19th September 1356

Poitiers. France.

I saw you coming
That's how legends are made,
I sent your soul spinning to hell
I run you through with my blade.
Your armour no protection
Against this ash, feather and steel,
You refused to bow to me
To a new master. You refused to kneel.
I saw you coming
All banners and bristling swords,
Marching men at arms
Prancing horses, plumed knights and lords.
In all your glory at Poitiers
Our arrows rained down from the sky,
You heard the whisper of steel tipped wings
And they sentenced you to die.
We arrogant English archers
Waved two fingers toward you,
Then dashed down with stilletto blade
And coldly run you through.
Proud knights of France lay dying
In their own filth and deep mud,
Some whimpered like a baby
Whilst others died as a warrior should.
That day I saw you coming
With the Oriflame flying, bloody red,
You promised us no quarter
But, it is you who lie vanquished, dead!
The mighty English archer
A common man of village and dale,
Destroyed the cream of the French army
At Poitiers we did prevail.

Phil Hall  May 2014

SOS

West Bromwich Albion F.C have played in the famous blue and white stripes for over 125 years. Next season will see them playing in a white top with blue 'pin' stripes. Tradition and heritage scrapped because of money.....

This is an SOS
(SAVE OUR STRIPES)

Fish and chips
Salsa and dips,
Dogs and cats
Mobsters and spats,
Always together
Whatever the weather.
Chalk and cheese
Birds and bees,
Black and blue
Dumplings and stew,
Never to sever
Always and forever.
Morecambe and Wise
Cowpats and flies,
Sonny and Cher
Goldilocks and three bears,
The loss of the stripes
Is the cause of our gripes.
Astle and Brown
King and his crown,
History and glory
The 'Baggies' proud story,
Stripes of blue and white
Not this pin striped shite.....

SAVE OUR STRIPES!!

Phil Hall   May 2014