What madness is taking over this world?
Why the mothers, why the children?
When I was a soldier I made a choice
I knew the risks.
I blame them all.
Taliban, Israelies, Americans even my own countrymen
Yes, all the warmongers who make money from the sale of arms
All the radicals who don't believe in democracy
All those who steal the lands and destroy the homes
of those less educated or less wealthy
I hope those responsible can sleep soundly at night
Those who fire the randomly aimed rocket and shell
can wash the blood stains from their hands.
They don't have to listen to the weeping mothers
They can close theirs eyes and ears to the anguish
of families ripped apart
They are never close enougn to smell the cloying stench
of drying blood and rotting bodies

Were it in my power to do so I would take them there
And rub their noses in it
,

Yes they left as boys, not yet men
Lifes adventure had just begun
It won't be me, my life is safe
When I left you I said I'll be ok
Now I return with shattered mind
Blown apart by things I've seen and done
But!!! I return with legs no more
Blown apart in strawberry gore
But who now wants this bomb torn wreck
Who now wants this shattered piece of once was a man
Well *******
On these two legs of tempered steel
I will conquer any hill
And yes climb the mountain to
You may have lost the will to live
But with metal legs I still have so much to give
A message sent to you

You know apart from writing poetry I design gardens for other
people just as an unpaid sideline
But come and take a look in my garden.
Rough laid brick edging round the lawn and I do mean rough
you wont see a dead straight line there
Flowers, hot oranges intermingled with reds and gold
No
Plants carefully chosen for form and texture
No
Rather a jumble of wild and cultivated plants doing their
own thing
White campion, red campion intermingle with white and yellow daisies
Scarlet poppies vie for space with rosebay willow herb
Sage and thymes in profusion
Great clumps of lemon balm mixed in with chives and lavenders
Foxgloves and hollyhocks in places they shouldnt be
Wild mallows and geraniums growing where they choose
And running wild my favourites of the flower world
nasturtiums
That then is my garden, my retreat, my oasis of calm

I cast my line into the watery murk
And hooked a Carvò by the neck
I pulled in vain the hold to break
But ripped the head off at the neck
Alas the Carvò did not die
Head and beret floated high
****** droplets fell like acid rain
Causing worthy poets grief and pain
The body was by fish consumed
But once again the Carvò cloned
Again to infest the HP site
With the foul desease of words he writes

Funny how a four year old
Can answer "because that's
Just what that does" to a

Question, knowing full well
That the grown up is the
Spiteful one, who refuses to

Hear such solid
Truth and find it
Enough.

we're partners in crime
(if crimes were adventures)
and we were adventurers
(if adventures were conversations)
and we shared discussions
(if discussions were love songs)
and you made me sing them
(if singing was sharing)
and all of your wisdom words and stories
(if lies were true)
and we actually met
(if i wasn't me)
and you weren't you
(if we weren't friends)
we'd be perfect