Happiness.

Photo Credit :  Brigitte Tohm on Unsplash

Happiness.

What makes you happy he said, it cause you ain’t dead
I lied and denied and said yes
But that wasn’t true I only said it just it’s just what you do
What makes me happy is women and swimming
From looking and staring to not even caring
Sometimes even daring to approach and engage
Hoping, but not caring that I don’t enrage and drive them insane
Swimming then is about relaxing letting go and being free
Cut loose lay back and enjoy

Laughing and singing as I am bringing the cat in
Giving and receiving with people who aint deceiving
Walking alone without my cell phone
The space to unwind my mind, the ability to see and possibly dream
Of being a man of means and wealth, without letting it go to my head

Excellent health, being able to get out of bed
Peace and tranquility to those that are close to me
Harmony with those I interact with, see
Being in silence and quietness, where I can lay with the light off
Listening to the stillness eases my mind
Where I can contemplate my life, the people who at times cause me strife
Sometimes I will forgive them if i’m feeling kind

A cup of tea, as I watch what I can see, as I study people passing by me
Taking my boots off, putting my feet up, now that to me is pleasure on earth
Reading and writing to broaden my knowledge and unleash my soul
That is a pleasure by some measure, as long as what I read and write
Don’t come across as boring and somewhat trite
Music to listen to, and to play
That can make a fellas day

Treating people kindly, gently and being right friendly
But telling others firmly, don’t take me for a fool
Don’t go breaking that golden rule, or I’ll cut you out of my life for good
Treat me right, as I will do you, then we’ll have a relationship, that’s well out of sight
Being around people who are reasonably sane, cause being around these others
Can be quiet tiresome, I’m just saying
Being in love so much, it’s like all those white doves are flying about
That seems to make you act like a fool
Breaking your own self made rules, about what you will, and will not do

Not all children are mean and unclean, some are quite happy as far as I can see
Now these kind of children are good company, with their single minded attention
There’s no need for an intervention, to take them on a course of meditation or two
As they have all that joy at just living life, wrapped up real tight
And could teach us adults a lesson or two

Being with people I can trust to be honourable to the core
That makes me happy cause then I know the score
No betrayal, no treachery here, these are attributes I hold dear
Feeling secure enough and happy within myself
So I don’t start feeling a bit strange in my head
When it looks like she may be inclined to take that fella to bed
Even though I don’t really know her, and nothing has being said
I never thought I was the envious type, when did all this come to light
Hope it’s just a phase I’m going through, to be like this full time
Now that would never do, I’ll have to work on the self esteem a bit
As I don’t want to come across as someone fragile, insecure and mean
But rest assured, I am not unclean

A nice glass of wine to make me feel fine
A can of cool beer, pleasures such as this I hold very dear
But not too often, cause my thinking goes kinda queer
I mean I could go on and on forever
About what makes me happy, if I search deep within my mind
But we could be here all day, cause I reckon I could have quite a bit to say
But I’ll leave it at that, and keep the rest under my hat
So we can at least get out of here before the evening.

 

 

 

Loneliness

Photo Credit : Dan Gribbin on Unsplash

LONELINESS……..

MY LIFE FEELS SO EMPTY, AS I SIT HERE ALL ALONE
SO MANY MANY DAYS LIKE THIS, ALWAYS ON MY OWN, IT’S  AT TIMES SO VERY HARD TO BEAR
WHEN WILL IT GET BETTER, GOD ONLY KNOWS
THIS LONELINESS, IT’S HARD AND PAINFUL, AND I’D LOVE TO SHARE

I’VE HAD SPELLS OF LONELINESS BEFORE, AND ACHED FOR THEM TO END
IT’S JUST THE WAY LIFE IS AT TIMES, BUT IT COULD DRIVE YOU ROUND THE BEND
EVERYONE I GUESS SUFFER FROM THIS, FROM TIME TO TIME
BUT SOMETIMES I WONDER,…..AS THIS IS ALL I EVER SEEM TO FIND

I KNOW I AIN’T THE ONLY ONE WHO EVER FEELS LIKE THIS
IT HAPPENS TO THE BEST OF US, BUT THIS IS HARD,AND…….. I WISH TO RESIST
AS MOST LIKE TO CHAT, AND TO INTERACT
BUT SOMETIMES DUE TO LIFE’S CIRCUMSTANCES
IT  DOESN’T HAPPEN JUST LIKE THAT

AM I DESTINED TO BE ALONE, ALL MY LIFE
NO ONE CALLING, NOBODY RINGING MY PHONE
IS THIS THE WAY IT’S GOING TO BE ?
IT IS AS FAR AS I CAN SEE
WHEN WILL THIS KIND OF EXISTENCE EVER END ?

AT TIME’S I SO ACHE FOR HUMAN COMPANY
PLEASE SOMEONE JUST COME AND SPEAK TO ME
SAY SOMETHING, ANYTHING, EVEN IF IT’S CRUEL, I DON’T MIND
JUST SO THAT I DON’T FEEL SO VERY ALONE ALL OF THE TIME

IS THIS WHY I GAMBLE AND DRINK THE WAY LIKE I DO
A SOLITARY PLEASURE…..WITH THE CHANCE OF A WIN
YEAH, BUT DON’T LOOK AT ME, AND SAY THAT YOU SHOULDN’T DO
YOU AIN’T GOT MY LIFE, SO YOU AIN’T GOT NO CLUE
SO DON’T YOU COME DOWN HARD ON ME, AND SAY YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER
IF YOU COULD SEE THE WAY LIFE IS HERE
PERHAPS YOU’D BE MORE GENEROUS IN YOUR VIEW
WHAT I DO WITH MY LIFE, IT’S VERY LITTLE TO DO WITH YOU

THAT’S THE WAY IT IS AT PRESENT, THAT’S WHAT’S GOING ON HERE
AT LEAST I HAVE THE PIANO TO PLAY ,KEEPS MY HEAD SOMEWHAT  CLEAR
THAT AND WRITING OF COURSE, EMPTY MY INSIDES OUT
WHETHER PEOPLE WISH TO READ IT, WELL THAT’S  OBVIOUSLY THERE SHOUT

SEE I BEAR MY SOUL WHEN I WRITE, HELPS A FELLA FEEL BETTER, OF THAT THEIR IS NO DOUBT
WHETHER THOSE READING  FELL THE BENEFIT OF IT, WELL THAT’S ANOTHER MATTER
SOMETIMES I WONDER, IS THERE’S REALLY SOMETHING  WRONG WITH ME
I KNOW FOR A FACT, I AIN’T EVERYONE’S CUP OF TEA, AS YOU MAY NOT BE MINE
BUT I CONCLUDE IT’S PERHAPS LACK OF OPPORTUNITY
TO MEET PEOPLE, SOMETIMES I FIND THAT’S HARD

MIND SOME PEOPLE I DO COME ACROSS, WOULD BE BETTER LEFT OUT IN THE YARD
THESE KIND OF PEOPLE I COULD WELL DO WITHOUT
THE CRUEL, THE NASTY AND THE MEAN
ARE ONLY SHOWING THEMSELVES UP, AND IT’S PLAIN TO SEE
IT’S THEIR HURT, THEIR PAIN THAT COMES TO THE FORE
THAT THEY LIKE TO INFLICT IT ON OTHERS, BECAUSE THEY CAN’T TAKE IT NO MORE

I STRIVE TO TREAT PEOPLE LIKE THIS, WITH KINDNESS, UNDERSTANDING AND MORE
THAT’S WHAT THEY NEED, BECAUSE THEY DON’T EVEN KNOW THE SCORE
THAT’S WHEN I GET OVER MY ANGER, ABOUT HOW THEY SPEAK TO ME
THEY CAN’T REALLY HELP THEMSELVES, THIS THEY CANNOT SEE
BUT JUST STAY AWAY
NO NEED TO PUT YOUR HEAD IN THE LION’S MOUTH, JUST TO MAKE THEIR DAY
DISENGAGE AND DESIST, THERE’S VERY LITTLE THAT YOU’LL MISS
SEND THEM ON THEIR WAY WITH LOVE, EVEN IF IT HAS TO COME FROM GOD ABOVE
FORGIVE THEM FOR THEIR IGNORANCE AND UNPLEASANT WAYS
DON’T ALLOW THEIR POISON TO DISRUPT AND RUIN YOUR DAY
LET THEM GO, SET THEM FREE, LET THEM BE WHAT THEY WILL BE
PERHAPS IN TIME THEY WILL FIND HAPPINESS AND SELF ACCEPTANCE WITHIN THEIR MIND
I WISH THEM WELL WITH ALL OF THAT, BUT UNTIL THAT TIME,I’LL BE STEERING CLEAR
THAT’S FOR SURE, AS I AIN’T NO ONE’S WHORE, I AIN’T PUTTING UP WITH THAT

AT ONE TIME I WOULD HAVE BEING EMBARRASSED AND ASHAMED TO SAY, I FEEL SO VERY LONELY TODAY
BUT NOT ANYMORE, IT’S NOT THAT BIG A DEAL
WE ALL FEEL IT FROM TIME TO TIME, OF THAT I’M FAIRLY SURE
MIND THERE’S A LOT TO BE SAID FOR SOLITUDE TOO
GET A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE ON LIFE AS YOU DO
WHEN ONE LOOKS AROUND, AT SOME OF THE PEOPLE YOU MEET
SOME REALLY AIN’T WORTH THE BOTHER, AND ALL OF THAT GRIEF
IF SOME ARE TOXIC, WHICH QUITE A FEW SEEM TO BE
AIN’T YOU BETTER OFF OUT OF THEIR ORBIT, THAT MAKES A LOT MORE SENSE TO ME

I’LL BIDE MY TIME, AND WAIT FOR THE RIGHT PEOPLE TO COME ALONG
I DON’T EXPECT I;LL HAVE TO WAIT SO VERY LONG
I’M SURE THEY WILL TURN UP ONE OF THESE DAYS
AS FOR THE OTHER OPTION, OF PUTTING UP WITH THE NONE TOO NICE HUMANS JUST FOR COMPANY
THAT DON’T MAKE MUCH SENSE TO ME, TRIED IT ONCE OR TWICE
THAT JUST REALLY AIN’T TOO NICE, TO HELL WITH THAT RUBBISH
I AIN’T PUTTING UP WITH THAT LIFE

MAYBE I’LL JUST HAVE TO GET MYSELF A CAT, AND I THINK I’LL JUST DO THAT, FOR THE COMPANY, FOR NOW

 

                                                                                                                                                       08-OCT-2015// G.

 

My Writing Group.

Photo Credit : Alexa Mazzarello on Unsplash

My Writing Group.

Will they like what I write, or think me a fool. I’m wishing now I paid more attention in school
I can’t keep up……these people are more clever than I
Will they snigger and ridicule and make me question my life
‘You’re a writer Mike’, don’t be daft son, that can’t be right
Their vocabulary is wider than mine will ever be.Their breadth of knowledge and intellect is amazing to see
There using some words I don’t even understand, can you not keep it simple for the common man

How can I impress them with what I write, so they scream shout and yelp,with  delight
Will they be cruel, unkind and mean. Will they say what I write is quite obscene
Uninteresting and as dull as can be
Would they be more impressed if I came here undressed. Will they get the humor I’m trying to install

Why can’t I see the writing that’s written on the wall
You’re a writer, don’t be daft son, that ain’t for you, that’s for john Grisham, Jeffrey Archer, and a few in this group too
Don’t kid yourself, these people are way ahead of you, intellectually wise
Some are wordsmiths, some seriously sublime
She was a publisher. He was a teacher
Do I have to spend time reading dictionaries to know what they mean
Oh my God, how will I ever be good enough. Do I really have to keep coming here, doing this stuff
With these intellectuals I’m just going out of my mind
See that woman there, she was head of European operations, for goodness sake
Just thinking about all this, it’s giving me a serious headache

My writing and words, are simple and basic. For this is what I am, a simple basic ordinary man
Not an intellectual heavyweight, who can entice and enthrall. Who could have others scaling walls to hear what I write
I’m not even a great fan of reading, just thought I might admit that……right, although I must admit to reading graffiti wherever it falls. Wherever these people have the gall be writing on walls

How can I compete with these heavyweights here, it’s pointless to try, bleed my soul dry
But do I need to try and impress them at all, am I in this group for their benefit or mine
Do I enjoy what I’m doing here, I certainly do, let me make that clear, and let that shine
Do I really need to impress them, is that what matters most, in the Name of the Father, the son and the Holy Ghost
To compare and compete is a losing game, ask anyone who’s tried it, they tell you the same
Cause no matter which way you cut it, you’re on a losing streak, it dont matter how deep you dig
In that well of creativity, that we all seek, that resides within us all. It’ll eventually come out, in answer to your call
But if you then compare and compete, and say my work is incomplete, it is no good
I should be better, those listening they did not applaud, they did not cheer. They did not bow down and ask for an encore.I can’t write, it’s obvious, that just makes it clear. What the hell am I even doing here. It’s only myself I’m fooling
If that’s how you think, then you’re wasting your talent, which we all have, that’s what I say

So I’ll come here and write what’s in my head, in response to the exercises were given to complete, before next week
Even if my words won’t knock em dead, at least it will make some sense to me. It’s a release and a discharge
To get them out of my head, then I can have some peace when I am trying to sleep lying in my bed

I’m a bit nervous and fearful now, the groups about to start. Please choose me to read first, so my nerves will disperse
Oh God no, he’s pointing at me, here goes, let it out and hope it works
Why do I put myself through this week after week. Am I some kind of machaoist. Is this the type of pain I seek
My heart’s beating louder, my breathings a bit quick. Jesus now I hope I ain’t gonna be sick
Get the words out, get them said, So I can get out of here, and do something else instead
Where I don’t have to put my soul on show. Here’s my vulnerability. Do you like what you see
Or does it make you sick to the bottom of your stomach. Oh my God what will these people think of me

Do they think of me ,or perhaps they’re all so self obsessed, I ain’t on there radar at all. I ain’t even granted access
Maybe they have thoughts similar to myself running right through their heads
Is what I write frivolous and of no consequence. I ain’t out to comment on world events. I’m just here sitting on the fence
Will others think I’m  a bit lacking in terms of intellectual eloquence, or will they want more

Will they be judgemental, criticising, harshness and all. This is what some people use at times to make you feel small
Do they gain some perverse pleasure from inflicting spiritual pain, it’s at times like this
It’s like being plugged into the electric mains, where you’re jolted back and rocked to the core
By the nastiness and unpleasantness that others, at times, can bring to your door
That’s the risk when you bare your soul, is that not what writings about, and a lot more

At times it’s  good to cleanse and purge your soul, writing is a type of psychotherapy
Although I don’t think it’s advertised as such, but as a method of release, to sooth a turbulent mind ,and have some peace, in a harmless manner, it’s hard to beat, and afterwards you will actually feel quite fine
So maybe there’s something to be said, for sharing of ourselves, as we do

I’ ain’t competing or comparing myself to you, that’s only what a damn fool, would ever dream to do
We’re all different, that’s alright, some intellectual heavyweights, others still finding the light
We all have different stories of this life to tell, some that make your heart swell with pride, and some cause a tear to dwell
But they all matter at least to me, give people a voice, and let them too find some peace
If some are better writers than I’ll ever be, I’ll just have to accept what will be, will be
It’s not the worst, it’s not the end of the world, I can’t be No 1, at all that I try
Although that sticks in my throat, I ain’t gonna die. I’ll just come to terms with that, it may improve my writing in time
I’ll just have to wait and see

Ah now he’s pointing the finger at me, so let the madness and the opening of the soul begin
Is this what I must put myself through, week after week, to atone for all my sins

 

                                                                                          Here we go……and now it begins……….

 

                  

                                                                                                                                                    09-Feb-2017.

Escape.

Photo Credit : Christopher Windus on Unsplash

Escape.

Are you trapped, imprisoned, and cannot get free
Do you feel like you need more room, so that you can breathe
Is this relationship, not at all what it seems
Do you yearn, do you burn, to break all ties, and jump free
Do you want to break through these invisible prison bars
Are you afraid to do so, in case it leaves scars

Are you being blackmailed, manipulated from moving away
Are you gonna waste your time here, day after day
‘ I love you, I want you, I need you, please don’t go ‘
Any of this sound familiar
‘ I’m leaving, I’m going, please say it aint so ‘
Does the pleading turn to anger
A rage, a torrent of abuse, as they vent
Now they don’t seem so much like that angle, heaven sent

Is it love, loneliness, or entrapment to capture your soul
If they can’t have you in the way they desire
Maybe they will aspire to stop you from the contentment and true happiness you seek
Keep you tied to a loveless relationship, and meek
Surely to God, one deserves better than this
Are you too kind and pleasant, cruelty not to your taste
Is it lack of wealth and finances, keeping you in this place
Are you stuck, trapped, and it seems like there’s nothing you can do

Do you strive to tread lightly through this world, and treat others right
Be all gentle and soft, not harm a soul
Are you going to sacrifice your health, and maybe your head
To be their spiritual blanket, and emotional comforter too
What about some real heartbreaking, ass kicking , love making
Or maybe you will forego that too
All in the name of be seen to do what’s right
To be seen as that fine, solid, loyal understanding human, of quiet delight

If they are just a friend, they are not your job to mend
Nor be there surrogate lover too
Are you afraid of losing a long term friend
Will they be lonely, hurt and offended if you find someone new
Is it that perceived guilt that’s holding you back
Come on  now, answer true
Are you gentle, kind with no mind to be cruel
Well then my friend, you can set yourself free
Does it seem like the perfect set up, honesty, generosity
Peace and tranquility, good home cooking too

But there’s no love making, dude
Are they just using you, for their own inner reasons
Wheather it be loneliness, companionship
Or other reasons, too brutal to be true
There is no passionate sex, there is no love
Warmth, friendship, companionship, yes
But surly that won’t do
Passionate love, sizzling sex, I wish to say hello to you
Along with warmth, friendship, laughter, and companionship too
Do you want to look back on your life, when you are dead
Say I lived my life for another, how utterly frustrated, disappointed and angry are you

Is this loyalty gone too far, kindness gone amiss
It’s being such a long time, since you even had a kiss
Sexuality, lovemaking, call it what you will, it’s all part of the human condition
If your missing out on this, you aint really living
If they want more, you know the score
If that’s what they ache for, but you aint opening that door
They just don’t touch you in that way, be clear and definite on that

No moaning, no whingeing, or saying you should do
It seems so ideal, can it be real
But I just aint into you, like that
That bit of madness I’ve seen at first hand
That anger, that temper, and inability to cope
It’s slipped more than once, from underneath your cloak
It’s for reasons like that, I’d rather tip my hat, than get deeply involved
And carry on up that path
Do you want to escape, do you want to break free
Do you want to break through these invisible walls
Stay or escape, what will it be.

Prostitute.

Photo Credit : Khachik Simonian on Unsplash

Here I am a prostitute, what is it I must endure
I am that scarlet women, I am that filthy whore
Men who don’t care, middle class women who stare
Who worry and guess maybe its there husband whose taking off his vest
As he gropes and envelopes my breasts, as we lay together in the back of his filthy car
Where is my life going, is it going anywhere
Do you know what mate, I don’t even care
Another man, another woman, its all the same to me
I get paid, so they can do what they want to
Rape and plunder my soul, so what
Is this my life forever more, will it get better, ever
I’m dead inside, there ain’t nothing there
Happiness, grief, anger, my soul is empty chasm
Cant you see, but nobody cares
I am that scarlet woman, I am that filthy whore
My spirit a deep black hole.

 

 

 

 

A Star.

Legend

Photo Credit : Diego Jimenez on Unsplash

That’s what he was, for sure. At least in his own mind. But was it really true. Did his school mates, like him, or fear him. He had the physical capability to deal with anyone, as he was one of the, lucky ones, to have grown tall and broad. He had those lucky genes.
He was not by any stretch of the imagination, a woman magnet. But he attracted enough girls to keep him busy, and the envy of some of the less successful boys in his year. His position as the captain of the high school football team, only enhanced his self esteem, and his popularity among most of his class mates. His keen mind and bestowed intelligence allowing an easy passage through school . The same lessons, that had many of the less intellectually gifted, struggling, frustrated and depressed. Imagining future lives of minimum wage employment, or no employment. Perhaps a life of crime. Who knows.

Beneath the square jaw, the broad shoulders, easy smile and the piercing grey eyes, was a fearful human. He had not shared with another soul, that he was afraid of leaving high school, and going to university. Afraid to leave the small town, he had come to love. Where he knew so many others, and they knew him. Could he cope with a new city, a competitive university. Boy’s, bigger than him. Stronger than him. Better looking than he was. Perhaps more intelligent than he ever would be. He knew his parents had plans for his future. To follow in his Fathers footsteps. Work his way through medical school, travel and build up extensive medical experience and after a time, return to the small town, and become the local Doctor. As his Father before him had been.
That is what his parents wanted for him. But was that really what he wanted for himself. How could he tell them, especially his Father, to whom appearances and to be seen to be successful were of the utmost importance. How could he turn round and tell them, that he did not want to be a Doctor, nor attend university, not now, nor anytime in the future.

‘ What I want is important, not what you want. It’s my needs and my desires for once. Stop living your lives through me. I don’t want to be a Doctor, and anything like that, I want to write, to draw and paint, to be artistic and creative. That is where my passion lies. That is what I want to do. I want to design. I want to play and compose music. I don’t give a damn if their’s no money in it. Or if I’m no good at it. I just don’t care. I just want to be happy’. That’s what he wanted to say. He really did.

Of course he never said it. After he excelled at his final exams, as expected. With great unhappiness, on that final day, he packed his bags, slowly and morosely. He tried to tell his parents, he really did. He uttered a few words of doubt, and fear. But they cut him short, and assured him, it was to be expected, and would soon pass. Stepping out from his comfort zone. That is what he was doing, they explained to him. They would hear none of his further objections and small protests. He did not say much else. As they were his parents, and had by and large being good to him, and expected the best from him, and he did not want to disappoint. They waved him farewell from the front porch. With his head held low, his body language no longer that of the popular high school, football team captain. More that of a sad, disappointed child, fulling the wishes of others, not his own. Under silent protest, he trundled towards the empty highway pickup point for the city bus.
In the warm sunshine a few of the boys from the football team, meet and accompanied him of his trek towards the bus pick up point.

‘ You know, I never really wanted to leave this town, this place, and you guys. ‘

Would any of them understand. Could anybody ever understand, and give him a way out. They too assured him, it would be a good move. For his carer, financially, for his family. The small group waited by the highway, for the bus. He bid them farewell, and as he sat alone on the bus, surrounded by strangers. The bus traveled into the setting sun, it seemed like nobody would ever understand.

Still Getting Old.

Photo by Cristian Newman on Unsplash

Are you mad with rage, as you look at your age
How come life didn’t turn out the way it was ment to be
Do you want to seek revenge, get someone to make amends
For the life your lumbered with
It’s not how you determined it should be

Does it make you sick that your bones crack and creek
Even when you just eat, and move
That the toilet is now your new found best friend
The very idea of sex, gives you a right pain in the head
You’d so much rather have a nice cup of tea

Are you now so bored, you want to fall on your sword
So you can escape all this misery
Who can you hate. Whose head can you place on the chopping plate
Someone’s to blame. That’s all I’m saying
Before I go insane

Is it God, is it Buddha, Shiva or some other
It’s just gotta get better, before you get dead
Do people offer you their seat, as you shuffle your feet
Reaching your top speed, of ‘Dead Slow’
Are you lucky to have your health, or perhaps your confined to bed
Are you now so ancient, your teeth and hair, have gone amiss

Is your skin fraggled and wrinkled, it’s all just so unfair
With the slightest touch, it just might tear
Have you graduated to padded, plastic underwear
To enchance your personel care. Whoever thought it would come to this
But don’t nobody dare say you look like an old dried out prune
Are you bitter and resentful, and full of angry moods
That you can no longer be one of the young dudes

Is your life just one long empty journey, same old, same old, day after day
Do you sit wishing so much, it would just all go away
Are you scared of dying, of that journey ahead
That trip that happens to us all, when we are dead
These may be the thoughts that you contemplate
As you lay in your bed, awaiting your fate

Old age, getting on, coming to the end
Is there really much to recommend……living
I believe there is. So I’m holding on for as long as I can
Trying to be a happy man
Searching for a life full of laughfter and joy
Looking to forgive and forget about settleing old scores
Trying to live the happy life, look around at others
Many have a great deal of strife to deal with day after day
I reckon I’m a lot luckier than some, that’s all I’m sayin.

 

Success.

Photo Credit : https://pixabay.com/en/success-welcome-invitation-1148046/

Does success elude you, and you don’t know what to do
Is life making it seem like you just don’t have a clue
Where’s all that wealth, career success and love too
Have you tried and failed, are you just chasing your tail

Do you want to give up, give in, and go home
Is life just against you, is that how it seems
Do you ask, what’s the damn point of carrying on
When nothing your trying is working, It’s just all going wrong

What is the answer, what can you do
I don’t know either, I aint got a clue
If I had the damn answer
Dont you think I’d tell you

What you gonna do
Give up on life, cant take no more of this strife
Failure, stuck in a rut
Dead ends, and blockages, at every turn
Spinning your wheels, but getting no where

Are you tired of living, are you tired of life
When you look around, do others seem to have it so much easier, right
Who knows, maybe many go through these periods of being lost and amiss
Maybe it will get a lot better, then you will have to hold on real tight
Just here, wishing and hoping, it’ll hurry up and come right.

Moralistic Man.

They with no morals, who ain’t too found of a quarrel
Scruples ? What are they
But they will still steal, they will plead, they will deceive
They will promise so much, but when it comes to crunch
They are nowhere to be seen

They are charismatic, never sadistic or brutal
But will self indulge to excess
Just cause they can, that’s the type I am, they profess
They are good fun to be around

When it come’s to doing what’s right
Well they are out of sight
What about those all promises you made
Composed of clay

Where are you now, we need you now
To do what you said you were going to do
Stop hiding, stop running away
Come back here, we need your say

More than that, we need you to keep your word
Don’t be that fleeing bird
Stand your ground, dig deep, we know you can
Don’t be hedonistic, instead
Be moralistic, honest and true, that’s what we need you to do
Don’t be the one to ask, morals, scruples, who are you.

Too Much.

Photo Credit : Jim DiGritz on Unsplash

Gorge

That’s all he ever did ,ever. Just like the large greedy pig, that others had come to describe him as. Selfish, greedy, self obsessed, could one even say narcissistic, perhaps. As long as his needs, which of course were many, and so very important were fulfilled, then everything was alright, at least for now.
He sat at that kitchen table, three times every day, like a larger and more grotesque version of King Henry V111 when he was at his worst. The speed at which he gobbled everything in sight. The grasping hands, so quick and agile for such a large man. His slobbering eating habits, like some mad rabid, demented dog, left those that witnessed them shocked and sickened. He even sat at the head of that table, like the Royal King. Well he did after all pay for it, as he was fond of reminding the family seated round the table. He liked to remind them at the top of his voice, and at times pounding the dark oak table. How he had paid for the food, the table he ate it off, the house they were sitting in. Everything in fact. They knew the drill by now. Only, when he had the choice of the best of the food layed out on the table, and had done with it. Only then were they allowed to take what ever was left over. Not that their was ever much. They sat quietly watching and listening to him eat, a unpleasant experience. The knifes and forks, patiently waiting beside their clean empty white plates. The only sounds, the cackling of the wood burning int he open fire, and his loud incessant chewing, and gulping down of the finest of wine, he indulged himself in.
She slaved away, cooking what he demanded, and it better be right, she knew that by now. She had the body language of a hounded, and harangued woman, who toiled to keep some semblance of peace and tranquility in the house. If that were even possible. In the darkened room, lit by the fire, and the few large candles, he continued about his daily ritual, as the family did.
Tonight it was the same, he eating quickly, noisily and grabbing everything in sight. They sat round the table, watching and listening. He coughed, they eyed the mountains of juicy succulent mixture of food layed upon the table. The scent, and imagined taste of it so real, the texture most be so soft, and mouth-watering tasty, they too began to salivate at the very thought of tasting it. Were that to be allowed.

It was agony, pure and simple. To watch, to be so near, to hear, to breathe in the luscious aroma of what lay near to them. He must surely have been aware of what it was like for them, to sit, watch and wait. Or perhaps not. Maybe he was so wrapped up in himself, it never crossed his mind.
He coughed again, a bit more loudly, and cleared his throat. Continued to eat, and had some more of the red wine, poured from the expensive decanter, in to the rather finely decorated glass he used. The cackling of the fire, the delightful red hue it produced, the warmth it afforded the darkened dining area. It could have easily been mistaken for an intimate, welcoming setting. He coughed again, more forcefully this time, and slowly lowered his knife and fork. He began to perspire more than normally. His forehead becoming damp, his face flushed red, his large protruding lips, taking on a slight bluish tinge. He stood up rapidly and kicked the chair hard behind him. Put both his hands on either side of his large jowls, and staggered forward. They watched from around the table, as he tried to breath, but there was nothing but quietness, aside from the cackling of the wood burning in the large open fireplace.
His frame fell heavily on top of the open fire, smothering it. The arid smoke filled the darkened, candlelit kitchen. She watched transfixed, from the stove. They watched silently from where they were seated round the large oak table. His overly large unattractive body, didn’t move. No sound, nor movement from it.
Gingerly and tentatively she approached the table, and viewed the mountains of succulent food on it. Picked up an empty plate, and put a few tasty looking morsels on the plate. She placed a few into her mouth. She had always suspected they would taste as good as they looked, and she was right. Her wide smile, and a satisfying ‘aah’ signified that. She had another mouthful, and then another. Her smile growing larger. Her eyes  looming wide with delight. She threw a cursory glance towards the fire place, and his unmoving figure, as they did.
They watched. She smiled, and nodded. One by one they lifted up their empty plates and began to fill them with the luscious, succulent food that lay before them. In the darkened room, they began to feast.