REFLECTION

At a time of happiness
Why am I sad?
When all around is jollity
Faces glad.
Where health and wealth
And friendship had,
My mind in pain
For blood gone bad.
At this time of plenty
I cannot see,
Because the nest is quit
Scattered family.
The glue has loosened
Upon now fallen tree,
But, what did one expect?
It's not all about me.
I see the past
All the lost years,
I feel the pain of age
And it's attendant fears.
My reflection smiles
Though it masks the tears,
Sadness wells inside me
I miss my peers.
The reflection fades
Sunset quickly follows dawn,
Tiredness and lethargy
Aching bones and stifled yawn.
The faith in my soul
To which I was sworn,
Has comforted me
Since the day I was born.
My sadness always arises
At this time of year,
With the coming of Christmas
And all its warmth and cheer.
The yearning for the past
Misty memories, thoughts unclear,
But those fading pictures
Once again bring my family near.

Phil Hall
Copyright. Philthepoet61.blogspot.com
December 2015

THE WALK

I'll walk with you
Talk with you,
If you were a bird
I may even
Squawk with you.
I'll walk in the park
With you,
Lark with you
And if you were a dog
I'd probably
Bark with you.
I'll walk by the sea
With you,
Just to be with you
And even if
You were wrong
I'd agree with you.
I'll walk on by
With you,
Lie with you,
Hold your hand
And even cry
With you.
I'll walk a mile
With you,
Climb the stile with you,
See the world
Taste it's delights
And smile with you.
I'll walk with you
Talk with you,
I'd toast us
By pulling a champagne cork
With you,
But above all
I just want to be
With you.

Phil Hall    January 2016
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com.

HUCKING FELL

The road of life
Is paved with pitfalls,
Proverbial crablice
Constantly
Nipping at ones balls.
The end of the path
Be it a groan or a yell,
We descend into darkness
Dying plunge
Into the pit called "Hucking Fell".
An unknown journey
Where nobody ever returns,
Sprouting wings
Lay on ethereal cloud
Or below where fire burns.
Out upon the misty moor
Toss the coin for right or wrong,
The decision lies
At ones feet
As to where you will belong.
Many have died for salvation
Under a prophet's spell,
Did they reach nirvana?
Enter the spiritual nation
To the tolling of the bell
As the end approaches
As far as I can tell,
My soul will be warmed
And torn apart
In the furnace of "Hucking Fell".

Phil Hall. July 2015
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

AND SO I AM

I am man
And so I am,
Lend a hand
Understand
Because
I can.
I am man
I feed the poor,
Outstretched arm
Safety or harm
Peace and harmony.....
Or war.
Give or take
Clenched fist or handshake,
I am think tank
Loan shark or food Bank
Charity
Or on the make.
I am man
But, what's the plan?
To make a name?
Infamy or fame?
Baiter and hater,
Supporter and fan.

I am
Who I am,
Sometimes genuine
Sometimes sham,
Laid roots
Family tree,
Rock solid
That's me
More marmite
Than jam
And
So I am.

I was boy
Mothers pain.... And joy,
From the teat
To under her feet
Crying
Over broken toy.
Angry teen
Rebellious, yet keen
No bike or go kart
All reading and art,
And so I am
You see what I mean?
Learning for earning
In the guise of work,
Sweated brow
Suckling the cash cow
Spending on booze
Going berserk.
Seed was sown
Children of my own,
English and math
Guide to the right path
Quickly they grow
Back to being all alone.

I am
Who I am
Sometimes genuine
Sometimes sham,
Laid roots
Family tree
Rock solid
That's me.
More marmite
Than jam
And
So I am.

So now I look to the sky
This is where
I'd like to lie,
Floating about, a spirit of man
At peace, at rest
Finally just an ethereal guest
And so I am
No more.

Phil Hall    September 2015
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

GREY HORIZONS

One can stare all day
At grey horizons
Where good denizens
May inhabit.
The proverbial headlight rabbit,
This is the future
Grab it.
Sullen steeples
Flocks of sheep,
Those people
All going the same way
As you.
And
What do you do?
Reach the grey horizon,
It may be gone
To be replaced by another.
You will soon discover
That all horizons
Have an horizon.
That may be surprising,
But one's just surmising
Because for what it's worth,
We inhabit a round earth
So, by the end of the day
All one can say is we fail.
Day after day
Chasing one's tail
Until we're gone.....
And we've fell over the edge
Of the grey horizon.

Phil Hall.  AUGUST 2015
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

FLOATING ISLANDS

As a youth
I walked on floating islands,
Far away
In distant time and space.
A beautiful place,
Where trees of bonsai form
Were the norm
And skies were of
Scarlet hue,
Never of blue.
Jagged rocks
And pathways of wonder
I would roam,
Alternative world's
Stood in a alternative universe
I was never alone.
I drifted along
Deep in thought,
Scattered vinyl on sheets,
Lay amongst the albums
I'd bought.
Eyes wide shut

But,
Open to the sights
I'd seen,
The world
According to Roger Dean.
Teenage memories
Oh how they scream,
Of Floyd, Yes
And Tangerine Dream.
Orchestral, electrical
Music so grand
Alone with my thoughts
Lay on floating islands.

Phil Hall August 2015

Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

NINE MILES

Herbs swirling
Around my head,
As I gaze upon
The single bed.
I'm in Zion
Shoes off,
Paying my respects
Before the lion.
Nine miles
One love
And children's smiles,
Chasing the bus
No fi cuss
Throw out the dollar
And hear the holler.
Tomb of finest marble
The King lying in state,
His words still true,
We await our fate
The three little birds
Still singing
To me and you.
So here I am
In Bobs backyard,
Full of one love 
The memories will be strong.
The lion is in Zion
Hard as iron
No woman no cry,
What could be wrong?
Back on the bus
Salute to Rastaman,
A place of peace
As only The lion can,
Yeah man, I and I
We are one blood,
That can only be good,
I smile
I've walked in Zion
Man been a nine miles.
Marley, a true legend
True king,
One love
Lyric
Man, woman and child
You all can sing.
One love
One heart
Let's get together
And feel alright.

Phil Hall. July 2015
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

philthepoet: ALL ABOUT TAKE

philthepoet: ALL ABOUT TAKE: It's all about take And photos of kittens in a glass, Wallowing in self styled misery Or the pursuit of laboured love. The baring of...

INHUMAN RACE

I don't like
The human race,
Obnoxious bastards
All over the place.
No manners, no class
No heirs and grace,
Total disregard for anybody
They spit in ones face.
The inhuman race,
These ignorant twats
No doubt spongers
And breed like rats,
A life of cigarettes
And meals full of transfats.
They should be neutered
Like mangy, flearidden cats.
So much mouth
Yet nothing worthwhile to say,
At everyone else's expense
They come out to play
Pushing and barging
To be front of the queue,
Nose deep in any trough
That's what they do.
The gross and oversized
Rambunctious yanks,
With their groaning plates
No surprise, they're built like tanks.
Also, the scowling
Council house Brits,
With no regard for other cultures
They get on ones tits.
So called Brazilian babe's
With their disdain and haughty air,
But I know the truth, to get here
You sold your child's hair.
The French and Scandinavians
With that, we're better than you look,
Carry on the catwalk pose ladies
No one gives a fuck.
Reverse baseball cap
Sunglasses on top of the head,
The need everyday
To have the same sunbed.
So holiday all inclusive
They're all over the place,
Then relax back and take a peek
At the horrible, inhuman race.

Phil Hall August 2015
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

MAMMEE BAY

I listened to Fleetwood Mac
I listened to them today,
I heard 'Albatross'
Whilst I strolled a beach
In Jamaica
A beach called
Mammee Bay.
The cymbals
Representing the waves,
Lapping at the sand
So serene,
This is a paradise
Only I have may have ever seen.
The true surf
Of that jewel encrusted sea
Played with my sunburnt toes
Totally refreshing me.
I'm sure this what
Life is all about
What finding yourself
Actually means.
Everyone and everything
Became rudimentary
With time and space
An unconscious state
And even elementary,
Here I walk quietly
On the sand of Mammee Bay
Aching body and advancing age
Purely sedentary.
A lonely frigate bird
Sailing on a turquoise sky,
Without troubles or worries
No if, when, what or why?
Albatross ends
The soothing tune
Comes to a melodic close,
Will I hear that surf again?
Feel the sand of Mammee Bay,
Maybe
One day
Who knows?

Phil Hall    August 2015

PICKAXE AND BOOTS

Pickaxe and boots
Those are my roots,
To the man I am today
Years of graft
And toil
They were building blocks, the shoots.
I'll not see those days again
Consigned to working of the pen,
And what you see today
Pickaxe and boots
Muscle to iron
When boys turned into men.
Limbs now tired and strained
The effort is pained,
The times
Imprinted in my soul
An education in life
The knocks ingrained.
Those glances worthy
Youth, innocently swarthy,
Bleached by sun
The tanned arms
Sea blue eyes
Yes, that was me.
Finding ones voice
More Ford than Rolls Royce,
My card stamped
For the future
A life......
Of limited choice.
Pickaxe and boots
Those were my roots,
To the man before you today.
Behind me the graft
And toil.....
New building blocks and shoots.

Phil Hall
July 2015 Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

I LUST FOR NOTHING

You can't keep
A bad man down,
You're not my mother
Yet you wear
The same frown.

It's not about
Your cooking,
Your fucking
Not even
You being good looking
Hear this.....
I lust for nothing.

This bad man
Always under the crown,
It's all in my head
The things we've said
Unwarranted renown.

It's not about
Your cooking,
Your fucking
Not even
You being good looking
Hear this......
I lust for nothing.

I've had the stress
The chat and talk,
Silly, petty fights
Make up delights
Yet bad man still walks....

Hear this!!
It's not about
Your dazzling eyes
Sweet, milky thighs.
Not your fucking
Your cooking,
You being really
Really good looking...
I lust for nothing.
Not your
Alluring smiles,
Tongue that beguiles
Warm inviting mouth
When you go south.....
None of that
I lust for nothing.

Phil Hall     July 2015
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

I AM LIQUID

I am liquid
Sometimes stone,
I'm encased within walls
Of flesh and bone.
I am fire
A dancing flame,
I am carbon
In all but name.
My soul a light
This brief life the spark,
Pulsing in glory
Before an eternity of dark.
I am liquid
From the warmth of the womb,
Evaporation over time
Dessicated forever, encased in the tomb.
These are my thoughts
As I lie and think,
I am immortal, I am liquid
My whole existence , captured in ink.
I am liquid
Sometimes cloud,
Ripples from a minds downpour
Soaking life's shroud.
I am just water
A breathing statue of rain,
Don't shed any tears
When I slide down the drain.
For we are all liquid
Just H2O,
We are the rivers and nimbus
Forever basking in a sun's glow.

Phil Hall    August 2015
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

BARRIERS

Twisted rope
Knotted and tethered,
Granite boulders
Moss stained
And weathered,
All stacked against us
Barriers.
Iron studded door
Rusted jailers key,
Natures fortress
Thicket of thorns
Bramble and tree
Access denied
Barriers.
Colour or creed
Varying shade of skin,
This shouldn't
Determine whether or not
You're allowed in
Bigotry and hatred
Barriers.
Each heartbeat
Pumps the same blood,
Be it from
Murderers and thieves
The righteous and good
Unlock the door
Of all barriers.

Phil Hall
May 2015

Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

TETRIS

Shapes are falling
With blocks
Raining on my head,
Cuboid shower
Driving rectangular power
Who said
Tetris was dead.
L shaped drizzle
Square monsoon
All over my bed,
Rhombus tower
Kaleidoscope flower
Who said
Tetris is dead.

Phil Hall
June 2015
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

DEAD SOCK

I saw a grey sock
Lay dead in the road,
It wasn't a cat, or a bird
Or a toad.
No, it was a sock
Lay dead on the tarmac,
It was lay sodden and flat
Quite definitely dead
It wasn't coming back.
My thoughts drifted
To the now empty shoe,
Who did it belong too?
It wasn't me
Was it you?
And why only one sock?
They usually come in a pair,
There wasn't another one
Lay near to where
The grey sock lay dead
On the ground.
Cars raced past
Without as much as a prayer
For the grey flattened sock
On the road
Lay there.
Is the owner still grieving
And it's twin full of pain?
For the the grey sodden sock
Lay dead on the road
In the rain.

Phil Hall.   April 2015

APRIL SKIES

This is the time
For showers
And rain filled
April skies,
But also
The time for promises
And terrible,
Despicable lies.
This is the time
For campaigning
And getting your vote
At the election,
Would you want
Any of these suits
Who couldn't manage
An erection?
My dad once said
Never trust a man
Who talks with soft
Moist lips,
He's more than likely
Full of shit
Tory, liberal
Labour or UKIP.
So, in this month
Of promises
And blossoming buds
Of spring,
Remember,
Politicians are full of crap
And won't deliver
A thing.

Phil Hall.   March 2015
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

#generalelection #politics

ANGLI TAMEN LEO RUGIET

I want to walk
On an endless beach,
With tears and memories
Falling in equal measure.
I want to talk
To the ocean breeze,
And feel life all around me
Where life has now departed.
I want to see
Those far off days,
Playing in the sun
With the pride to comfort me.

I want to walk
Under towering trees,
With glittered jewels
Of sunlight
Showering down on me.
I want to talk
With the lion
Father of the pride,
Seated high upon exalted dais
Stern and strong
Forever in our soul
Whilst our blood does pulse.

"Angli tamen Leo rugiet"
The English lion still roars!

Phil Hall  March 2015

A BREEZE OF YESTERDAY

I've awoken
From a world of denial,
A world of dreaming spires
Kite flying
And oceans blue.
I've sat up,
Untied the bondage
Of blissful ignorance,
Where words flood
Tripping over
One another
To satisfy
The lust for
Self adulation.
This ship has sailed,
Floating free
Upon the sea of life
Or
A dreamy river of destiny.
A new smile breaks
Refreshed, cleansed
Caressed
By the breeze of yesterday.
The sun and stars
Tug at ones conscience,
Ink dries
Upon the pages of self harm
And abuse of the soul.
Free again to wander
And wonder,
A Virgin birth of sunrays
Warm the future path
As I stroll barefoot
And barefaced
Immersed
In a breeze of yesterday.

Phil Hall.  February 2015

A TEA CUP IN A STORM

Oh, us English
Totally unflappable,
Stiff upper lip
The norm.
Our answer
To troubles palpable,
Being a tea cup
In a storm.
The beverage
So quaffable,
A tincture
Soothing and warm.
Car crash,
Loved one lost,
Any ailment In fact
Soothed
By
A tea cup
In a storm.
For centuries the 'T'
Added to our morality,
Putting our nation
Top of the civilised form.
This Steaming brew
Aiding our mortality
God bless
The teacup in a storm.

Phil Hall. March 2015
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

FRIEND OR FOE

Are you friend
Or
Are you foe?
With your covered face
I wouldn't know.
Coming from afar
To do me Ill,
Holding up a book
And claiming
It's Gods will.
Is this the God
Who sent a son,
To be crucified
To save everyone?
Well,
The lamb certainly
Turned his head,
When innocents
Were molested in their bed.
By priests and clergy
Whilst in their care,
Where was God then?
Why wasn't he there?
Children abducted
Or shot in their schools,
By so called Jihadists
Applying Gods rules.
His voice on earth
Says "No contraception"
Where Aids is rife,
Millions of starving children
Gods warmest wishes
Causing suffering and strife.
Up or down
Which way to go?
It's hard to decide
Who's friend or foe.
Child abuse and beheading
All the devils doing,
But, it's in the name of Allah
All this shit we're viewing.
You'd let your child die?
Withholding life giving blood,
Is that truly Gods word?
Oh Lord, that's not very good.
Everywhere you look
There lies a tale of woe,
All watched over by a God
Is he friend or foe.

Phil Hall February 2015

TIME LINE

An egg
In slime,
Cocoon
So soon
Grazed knees
And
Shirt neck of grime.
Effort
And graft,
To fumbled love
So daft
Truth and lies
You drink
She cries
So fine
More wine?
Offspring
And more
At work
Shown the door,
Fuss and ado
Call the boys
In blue,
The fall
From grace
Includes
Wrinkled face
Time
You know the score.
The ground awaits
Through
Rusty gates,
All your worth
Deep in
The earth
Under carved
Granite sign.
Through
Lifes egg timer
Sifted,
The sands of life
Shifted
This is the end
Time line.

Phil Hall  February 2015

OUR DAY... ONE DAY

See Look up at the sky
Birds floating past
Make pictures
From the cloud formations,
Up there... Up high.
All in black
Faces dripping tears
Sadness everywhere
You're gone,
No coming back.
A fallen leaf
From the tree of life,
Shrivelled and dry
A memory for time
Another's grief.
The few words spoken
Like feathers they scatter
In the cold, crisp air
Lay in silken splendour
Never to awaken.
And there I'll lay
For eternity and beyond,
A moment reserved
For all of us
Our day..... One day.

Phil Hall  February 2015

FIFTEEN MORE

MICKLEGATE BAR

Under Micklegate
Pass
Cars, pedestrians
And motorbikes,
Where once displayed
Yorkist heads
On bloody spikes.

ROUGHAGE

If roughage
Was so good
For you,
Why do you
Flush it down
The Loo?

GOD

It's odd
How many
End up dead,
Just for
Worshipping
A supposed
Peace
Loving God.

FRENCH FOOD

I thought
It just
Old wives tales,
But, it's true
French eat
Frogs and snails.

SWISS CHEESE

I'm hard
To please,
The tastiest bit
To eat
Is the holes
In Swiss cheese.

Phil Hall  January 2015

LISTENING

The words float
Across the parallel,
Visions appear
Distant and shrouded
Memories,
Just photos of ghosts
And I sit
Listening.
Happy days
Passionate nights,
A saucer full of secrets
Their pursed lips
Imprinted.
My eyes closed
Basking in spontaneous illumination
Just
Listening.
Time traveling
Toward topographic oceans,
Mystical and magical
Merlin casts his spell
Its ethereal,
Drifting on Dozmary pool
An uncertain smile
Only
Listening.
Brief moments
Machineries of joy,
The world of acoustic illusion
Disappears.
Then back into reality
Headphones off
No more listening
The hollow sounds
Of
Hearing.
Phil Hall  January 2015

SUNBURST SEA

A sky ablaze,
And the fiery orb
Doffs his cap
To the world.
Sun descends
To his bed
At the foot
Of the ocean.
A light breeze
Dapples the
Waters surface,
Molten crystal
Rippling dusk.
Where my Sun sets
My angel does arise,
My darkness
Her light
There's no in between.
The watery haze
Opens its gossamer veil,
An exploding, sunburst sea
To light my lady's day.

Phil Hall  January 2015

15 WORD POEMS

CHALLENGE

Templar
Me against the world,
Sword and shield
In challenge
With my battle flag
Unfurled.

NUMBERS

I'm one
You are too,
If we'd met sooner
We may even
Have been three.

SNOW

Snow falls
Winter calls,
How come
It always only
Ever freezes
A brass monkeys
Balls?

ENGLAND

My country
Of empire
Hope and pride,
Now full
Of malcontents
Getting
A free ride.

DONE

I'm done
Back
Into obscurity,
Please
No more
Silly challenges
With which
To irritate me!

Phil Hall January 2015

BEAUTIFULLY SAD

I can still smell the coffee
Hear the creak
Of that rickety stool,
Feel the warm breeze
A kiss from the sea.
It's a beautifully sad reminder
Of heaven on earth,
For an old fool
Like me.
Once, I had visited Elysium
For all too brief
A moment in time,
Full of tastes and sights
And other wondrous delights
Beautifully sad
These thoughts of mine.
I kicked off
Constricting footwear
Churned sand between my toes,
Sipped on the rich
And heady brew,
And the pleasure of that
Beautifully sad day
For us still flows.
I sit now
In quiet contemplation
Indulging in the beautifully sad,
But, I'm thinking about
The future and what I'll have
Not what I once had.....
Phil Hall  January 2015

AUTUMN

"Icy shards spreading,
Hollowed cheeks dreading
The onset of autumn.
Weathered Nazca lines,
Upon the forehead of father time......."
See this face
Once cherubic,
Now
Rarely angelic
Misted with the chill
Of autumn.
Flying south
Watching with greying eyes
Falling leaf dies,
Waiting
For the coming
Of winter snow.
Early frost
Piercing aching limbs
Eyesight dims,
Tears
As the watery sunlight
Moistens leaden cloud.
Rainbow horizons
Springtimes fewer
Impaled on fates skewer,
Autumn
Dawning reality
Awaiting you and me.
Phil Hall  March 2015.

LISTENING

The Words float
Across the parallel,
Visions appear
Distant and shrouded
Memories,
Just photos of ghosts
And I sit
Listening.

Happy days
Passionate nights,
Bloody gladiators
On bloodied sand
Imprinted.
Just a pulse of thought
My eyes closed
Listening.

Time travelling
Toward topographic oceans,
Mystical and magical
Merlin casts his spell
Ethereal,
Drifting on Dozmary
An uncertain smile
Listening.

Brief moments
Personal escape,
The world disappears........
Then back to reality
Headphones off
No more listening
Hearing.

Phil Hall January 2015