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