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

SALES TALES

This annual event
A cold evening spent
Outside, standing in a Que.
It's the rule
For many a fool
Though not for me or you.

Waiting for a coat or hat
Or other such unwanted tat
A late present for the wife.
Left the house on Christmas night
To miss out on festive delight
These idiots need to get a life.

Burst through the door
Knocking others to the floor
To get your hands onto the prize,
Last year you didn't want it
In fact, you even called it shit
But you're now crawling over it like flies.

Every Christmas there's sales
With the same sorry tales
TV news reporting on the rush.
There's plenty of sadness
As with broken bones in the madness
Some innocent pensioner is trampled in the crush.

Half price Jimmy Choo shoes
With six inch heels in various hues
A bargain too good to be missed.
No cash... It's getting drastic
So she melts the plastic
A sale item she couldn't resist.

So take a look at the stats
And stop acting like prats
Because every year you're losing sleep.
What you think is a bargain
The shops tried selling again and again
But, they'll get rid as they know you're a sheep.

Phil Hall December 2013

JUST LIKE ANY OTHER DAY

JUST LIKE ANY OTHER DAY

When the festive lights are fading,

And the tinsel’s in despair.

When all good cheer has dissipated,

Resolutions lie broken everywhere.

The headache’s just receding,

After toasting in the New Year.

The cost of all this merrymaking,

Crippling debt is now the fear.

After all the hearty back slapping,

And the renditions of ‘Auld Lang Syne’,

It’s a return to children murdered in Syria

And the world in fiscal decline.

I look with disdain at this revelry

The supposed friendship and joy,

As, just like any other day,

The brutal killing of a student boy.

A family wiped out by a madman

An innocent man stabbed in the head,

Don’t talk to me of a happy new year

Let’s be realistic instead.

Just as the tree is discarded

The turkey carcass rotting away,

All the false camaraderie and peace

Is forgotten for many a day.

Phil Hall   January 2012