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