I rise from my nice warm bed
and having made a morning drink
for my beloved wife, and one for me,
I run a bath.
As I luxuriate
in that warm bubbled water
I reflect on how lucky I am.

Later, washed and dressed for the day
I sit at the table and enjoy
a fine meal from God’s harvest
and again I reflect, and I feel…
guilt!

Guilt for the small children
who have no homes in which to feel safe
guilt that so many of them
will not eat again today.

I feel guilt
for all of the poor women around the globe
who will this very day give birth
to babies who they will surely love
but in whose having they had no choice…
no one ever hears their terrified voice.
Poor women beaten by poverty
who still struggle to feed those children
and yet too those who violate them so.

I feel guilt for all the men who cannot be made
to realise that the world is not theirs to design,
and at the way that some men feel
their own importance trumps all other considerations,
and guilt at all of the war ravaged lands.

And when I look down at the bounteous fare before me
I feel only one thing – shame.



©Joe Wilson – On reflection… 2014

It was just a shadow
but the way it moved
scared the bejeebers out of me.

I was just about to put the key in the door
when the ******* shadow
passed through me and cast itself
right down the hallway

…and then it was gone.

It was raining and very windy
and after a short sharp shake of the head
I dismissed it and entered
and switched on the lights
– all of the lights.

Hang on…
How had a shadow been cast in the pitch black darkness!!

I was already miserable enough
I’d had a really difficult day at work
Dealing politely with someone you’d call a ****!


Suddenly – there was a sharp rap at the door
which upon opening revealed
children, one, two, three, four
“Trick or treat, Mister”, the young leader said
at which I grinned heartily
and recalling the juvenescence of earlier days
I was rushed back to reality and to him I said
“Trick”
fully expecting and prepared for a hideous mask or something.

In less time than it takes to say ‘Abracadabra’
the whole scene before me
turned red
I couldn’t make out at first what I was seeing
but then I realised that everything, everything was red.
Houses, trees, cars, even all the people
were all red.
Fiery red!!

I was in Hell – and I was terrified.
There was a long deep laugh
coming from – I didn't know where.
it just surrounded everything
including me – what was going on?

And then I remembered.
“No!! Treat!!,
I shouted at the top of my voice
and just as suddenly as it had all appeared
it vanished.
“That’ll be a dollar Mister.” the youngest lad said.

I gave him five dollars
and closed the door
and locked the door
and very firmly slid the bolts home
and put the chain into its slot too.
I went into the study and poured myself
a very large whiskey,
and sat down, still shaking,
in front of the fire.

I had never been so scared in my life.


©Joe Wilson – Trick…definitely not a treat…2014

Moving through the inky darkness
He leaps out suddenly at night
Stepping out from hidden corners
Where previously there’d been no sight.
            
Each night he hides in darkness maw
Awaiting all who pass
Until the sun begins to rise
By then he’s leapt his last.

No one’s surprised to see him
He follows us everywhere
For he is just our shadow
And of course…he’s always there.

Of course there are some places
Where he stays out of sight
It’s impossible to see him
If there isn't any light.

If you have your dog with you
He has a shadow too
And everything the shadow does
He makes the dog do too.

©Joe Wilson – Out of the darkness…2014

I remember
back to a time
when the black dog
hung around my neck
like a heavy yoke, I
could never be rid of
the terror that it
would not someday return
to seek me out and strike
me down again, and the knowing
how close I had come to succumbing.

I remember edging closer to the crowded
platform’s edge, too filled with fear to realise
the probable selfishness of what I was about to
do, only vaguely aware of where I actually was, but
just able to register that touch on my right arm
and the voice that quietly whispered, “I don’t really think
you want to do that.” I remember turning to see who’d said it
and seeing that there was just a crowd of people. Of the owner
of the voice there was no sign, but it had been enough.
It had been enough to make me realise where I was,
for the moment passed and I made my way back.

Back to the arms of the woman who had always loved me,
and who had carefully, lovingly, nursed me back to health
over such a long time. I wept. I put my head on her gentle
shoulder and I wept as I had never wept before. I wept for all
I still felt, and I wept for all the selfish anguish I would have
caused this woman had I let myself fall,

for that surely had been my intention.

©Joe Wilson – I remember…2014

I looked over yonder
And what did I see
An elephant, yellow
By a big pink tree.

Elephant, yellow
This cannot be
Are my rheumy eyes
Playing tricks on me!

When I looked round again
I saw grass of red
Surely that grass
Should be green instead.

And then a blue horse
Trotted into the scene
’twas the funniest place
That I’d ever been.

I took a step further
As I was feeling bold
Whence a group of green angels
Carried me into the fold.

The rivers there were purple
And the oranges were grey
And everywhere I looked about
People were at play.

The happiness was warming
I felt it in my heart
I loved just being in here
I felt I was a part.

And then a very loud voice
Did sonorously boom
“Who do we have here now
In this lovely coloured room?”

My name is simply Joe
I very meekly did call out.
For I was far too bothered
To raise my voice above a shout.

A huge door then just opened
And I simply passed right through
A large bearded man then said
“How do you do.”

I said, “What was that place
Where the loud voice boomed.”
He said, “That Mr Nosey
Is the oddments ante-room.

“Anyway Mr Nosey
what is it that you want.
I’m waiting for a party
from a crash in North Vermont.”

“I’m a very busy man you know
Why are you even here?
Go off and get yourself back home
And drink a lot less beer.”

©Joe Wilson – St Peter, humour, and the cost of drinking too much…2014

Love is the most powerful weapon on Earth…
Don’t argue against such a thing of great worth

So why the Hell won’t politicians listen?
Do they not see the Earth’s sad eyes as they glisten?

From the tears that are flooding out over the land
But no! Politicians don’t want to understand!

©Joe Wilson – Sadness…2014

Waking from an eternal sleep
To see that fate had played a hand
But destruction wrought upon the world
Was impossible to understand.

The air is still so polluted
Though not as bad as once before
At least the belching chimney pots
Don’t push out black smoke any more.

Swathes of roads through forests
Means magnificent trees are gone
That vital part of the equation
Giving oxygen to every single one.

Not content with destroying all of those
We pollute our beautiful rivers too
Putting pesticides across out the land
That are eaten by wildlife, and me and you.

We fill our greedy faces
With processed food that’s poor
So many children these days
Don’t see real food anymore.

And then, as if that’s not enough
We **** each other too
What on earth do we do that for
It’s obsolescence for me and you.

©Joe Wilson – Our fate…? 2014