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EARTH TURNS/NEGATIVE SPIN
When I was no more than a lad
Good was good and bad was bad
Definition was what we had
When I was a lad.
But things move on it’s assumed they must
Though shouldn’t advancement be discussed?
There’s no brain used just pelvic thrust
Disgusting but a must.
Bone idleness is now the lore
With the World Wide Web inside each door
The library? Hell that’s a chore
Bone idleness is now folk’s lore.
For queen and country people ran
An honour just to represent your clan
Now the race is run from a banking plan
Long forgotten why people ran.
We had the power for heat and light
To use all day and all the night
But somehow it does not seem right
That we’ll soon be back to candle light.
In those days when you didn’t need a seat
And the ball never left the best one’s feet
Now it’s stepovers ‘cos they can’t compete
And you’re not allowed to leave your seat.
Oh yes,
Do you have metatarsals? I never did
They weren’t invented when I was a kid
Safely in and out of tackles I always slid
As every kid I know did.
I was scared to death by The Exorcist
Which today is on a toddler’s list
And of tomorrow? “Live beheadings – Do not miss!”
And laugh at The Exorcist.
If you got involved in fisticuffs
And got knocked down that was enough
Now they want to kick you till you’re snuffed
It’s now rough stuff fisticuffs.
Not long ago when you had a blocked drain
You used drain cleaner in the main
Now scumbags use it to blow up planes
The world’s gone down the drain.
Oh give me back those days of yore
When your fingers didn’t walk and your feet got sore
And if you saw a bit of cleavage you shouted “Core!”
In those innocent days of yore.RAPSCALIAN RAP
What’ve I got? I got my crew,
I got my blow, I got my brew
What’ve I got? I got the street,
The place where I have found my feet.
What’ve I got? I got a role,
I got respect, I got my dole.
What’ve I got? The latest threads
I nicked myself, the height of cred.
What’ve I got? I got the lot,
I got a clue, I found the plot
What’ve I got? I got no school,
No assembly line, no authority tools.
What’ve I got? I got liberty,
I got my space, I got my key.
What’ve I got? I got it made
I’m proud that I have made the grade.
What’ve I got? I got my say,
I got no flack, I got my way.
What’ve I got? An aggressive walk
That clears the pavement where I stalk
What’ve I got? I got my leer,
I got my glare so I got your fear.
What’ve I got? It all looks good
As I peep out from beneath my hood.
What’ve I got? The latest ASBO
Worn like a medal as my stature grows.
What’ve I got? I got your attention,
As I feed and grow with every mention.
What’ve I got? I got the choice
I got the ears to hear the voice.
But will I listen? Will I fuck!
‘Cos I’m happy in this life I’m stuck.
WOUNDS OF BETRAYAL
Its the only one who feels it deeply!!
Love was the gift bestowed by god,
But who cares for this solitude now....
In the emptiness of mind,your heartbeat was the only sound........
You had the keys for the doors that were closed.........
I wasn't afraid of death ,but was afraid of losing u!!
I havebeen into dungeons of depression, but its enough of all this ...
I searched for u everywhere,but
it was impossible to find u with wet eyes..
The world dratted me for loving u,
But YES they were true.
I believed u were my life,
I was a dolt to think so...
Finally, I was in love, a love which i never got for aeons on end...........
...... with a new beginning.... prads...
A SUNSET DREAM
END oF WhAt
The evensong of birds,
Ushers in the night.
The end of the fretful, wakeful day
With mournful words.
The same day,
Which with morn did so bravely bloom
Is now ending with doleful gloom.
Gone is the glare and blare-
In their place, a sable silence
In which thoughts can be heard.
With the flight
Of lifegiving light,
Life itself has become light,
Shorn of the burden of strife.
Yet, the birth of the night
Is anything but delight.
Is it because the end of light
Hints the end of life itself ?
preserved thoughts
And a book of many
Waiting to be sold
For a casual penny,
In a little open case,
In a street unclean and cluttered,
Where a heavy mud is spattered
From the passing drays,
Stranger, pause and look;
From the dust of ages
Lift this little book,
Turn the tattered pages,
Read me, do not let me die!
Search the fading letters, finding
Steadfast in the broken binding
All that once was I!
From "The Poet and His Book"
Edna St. Vincent Millay