Glory days of Babylon
The carousel bandits rode o'er the plains they were gathered in dust with gold on their reins
Their ponies were bridled and their history begins where the trail blazing stops and the saga begins
There was blood on their hands but their spirits were blessed they stored all their glories in their treasure chests
Where the banners were flying and the anthems did play in the mornings of battle in the first light of day
All the history books told t and the drums they did roll where the parchments of stanzas were chiseled in snow
On the rocks of the hillsides where the coyotes ran free where the winds they did blow in the sanctuary of free
The aged librarian wrote all the text then kindled his memories in the words of the wretch where the annuals of time set the anchors so deep in the banks of the harbors where no man did sleep
Oh the bugles they sounded and the glories were cast upon the hillsides amongst hidden paths where the victories of battles were stolen in lies where Truth has no Honor amongst masons and spies.
Creech at Christmas Day
click pic
Where rooks do screech and lambs do play upon the edge of Creech today where cottages thatched all bless the scenes at the foot of Purbecks so cold and mean where hawks do soar and ponies small do frequent the hills of this great moor where snow and ice doth set the scene where stone of purbeck bless the greens
Where trees are tall and walls are wild where twists and turning road resides where walkers haunt this festive scenes where grouse and pheasants search for food where partridge hides his coloured hues where stands proud the grange house of purbeck stone sits in village wooded drive of Washington's ancestral home
Where views of scenic bless the sky where clouds of hues so sun blessed and wise paint this Gods festive scenes where the weary traveler is blest each day where lambs do run and poets dream their dreams each day like the words of Dickens recalled on this Dorset Christmas Day.
Washingtons ancestral home in Dorset
The ancestors of George Washington resided at the Grange whilst high above the burrow lay sleeping so high overhead
At the foot of the purbecks where pigeons did nest where partridge and peacocks did dance to young maids
In the village of Creech where the brambles were deep near warehams proud country with grass walls so steep
Where the blossoms grew rich and the zunners did play not far from the harvests and the making of hay
The old house was built of rich purbeck stone with the crest of the family in a place they called home
Where the USA crest gave birth to the free where landed young gentry were rooted by sea few know its history and its fight for the free the cannons of Cromwell and the royalists pleas
Though its grounded in histories we've yet to recall that the greatest of America was rich in its lore
The call to the brave and the crest on the wall the family mottoes and the days that befall the village of Creech with its twists and its turns with its high burrow views so gifted and sworn.
Jingly jangly man
In paradise isle down jing a jang lane i once met this man who sang this refrain
He had jingly jangly words he wrote jingle jangle rhymes he had a funny way of singing most of the time
He wore a stetson hat upon his head he looked kinda sad his eyes were deep and bluesy red
He wore a brace around his neck blew into a harp strummed his guitar he was kinda magic they said he was a star
He wrote jingly jangly music all his lines were long he had jingly jangly lyrics and he smiled most of the time
He wore high boots and he spoke so low the people attended his never ending shows
He was a poet and a prophet some said he was a saint but he really was an artist though never used the paint
He just sketched his words in music and he drew the poetry game he played jingly jangly rock and blues now and again.
Around the poets table
Around the poets table we sat and ate our toast a common group if hipsters debating of our times and host
Writing words of comfort reason and good rhyme one was here from England one from Scotland clan one was from Kentucky one an Irishman
One was a good old Aussie another from north wales one dropped in from London all had tales to tell
Around the poets table words of love were spun we ate cream and crumpets we had lots of fun
One told rhymes and jingles one told sonnets free one was a true romantic one hid up a tree
One was rich in dialect one was durzet bred one was cosmopolitan dreams all in his head
One wrote poetic visions one wrote sad refrains one was dark and dreary one strolled down life's lanes
At the poets table we collected dreams in haste one was young and beautiful all were in good taste
One was free and funny one was blue and dark one wrote verses of true love one walked in the park
One was full of laughter one was full of care one was full of love and romance she took it everywhere
One was full of country one was full of woe one created visions in the dark one took us to a stroll
Around the poets table we sat and sowed great verse one was happy in the group one in his own discourse
One was sad and reflective wrote his verses neat one was free and flowing blew bubbles at your feet
Around the poets table the drinks were flowing free they wrote the complete poetry then sold it all to me.
The night of shadows
. In the shadows of existence they lost their humanity within the perils of the night like sailors lost at sea
In the horrors of their network well within the ranks of time way out there in confusion amongst the reels of rhyme
From desperate souls that linger to forests dark and drear the whispers of the night were heard amongst the frozen cheers
The vagabond was lethargic with his tinseled ball and chain whilst the fairy did a pirouette out in the driving rain
Somewhere in the distance a lonesome bell did chime a chapel light was dimming i child was in a qualm
The taste of life awaiting the anchor struck the sands the sailors lit a flare that night two lovers holding hands yet nobody understands.
Cards for the boys
They sent the cards off to the boys those in the afghan hills some were marked with love and hope others blessed with tears
They sent them gifts and offerings all gayly wrapped with love some had tinsel on the box some wore a red ribbon and a dove
They say that peace comes to those who pray that angels guard their souls that Xmas brings its blessings too that's how the story goes
They posted them with first class mail to soldiers overseas some were written in hope and joy some in their mothers tears.
Gypsy Rhymes Traveler
He was a gypsy rhyme traveler how he tore those lines anew every morning as the day broke he crafted words so blue
his life was full of torment but he wrote those words of rhyme of happy times and moments love upon the vine
the times they were so harsh then like the ice upon the boughs the streams were frozen over no milk yet from the cow
the sky was full of snow and dreams like the pathways to the sea where rivers met their home in chance
where the gypsies sang for free he wrote his words of destiny his mantras true to form where the beauty hid its recklessness where the sparrows sang their songs the meadows offered solitude where the rabbits they did haunt whilst willows hung their branches cold where the gypsies traveler's haunts the coffers offered sustenance to the traveler's on the road where the cartwheels turned there daily where the wise men told their jokes
where kettles boiled the tea each day where mothers fed at breast where life was cruel to Romany dues where the poet gave pretense the sun comes up each morning the moon it shines at night where stars they twinkle in the sky where dreams at last abide.
Heather view
How i remember days at heather view with views across to Waterloo where Marion archer and i did play upon the swing above the hay
The cottage stood upon the hill with rambling roses around the window sills the bricks were painted red and white with door of green and stable light
The furze was sharp and the broom was rich where ponies grazed and willows pitched the gravel road was rich in time where Augustus painted the house so fine
The common lands stretched to magna road with foxes laires and newts and toads the rabbits played upon the downs where gypsy folk were bedded down
The Archers lived at heather view where sankey ward was chimney new where clay was rich and sand was prime where horses grazed most of the time
The Phillips lorries drove by each day where kids would chase and run n play the daisy banks were green and rich with buttercups along the ditch
The common hedges were thick with dew where golden spiders crafted webs so true where lizards squirmed and adders chased the heathers rich in bloom and face
The days were long and sunny too with views across to town of Poole where train did chuff and spout did steam from lights of town and birch tree leans
those days have gone and where we played replaced by speed of moneys made where factories stand and office space lost to the pride of our parade.
|
THE GYPSY POETS CONTEMPORARY POEMS
Mr Knotts fine caravans
click pic
When i left kemp welch fine Poole school i worked for ole bill knott with his vans so cool he had the biggest industry in the world he turned out those vans so self assured
I painted the kitchens and spayed those chassis so keen i was on peace work in the bluebird factory scene the wheels they did roll and the tills they did chime when old bill knott made those vans so prime
Those caravans in new towns heath lands were based on the Romany vardos i understand they sold them to Germany,Ireland and France the finest vans like true romance
I worked long hours with brush and gun i sprayed those colours oh how good fun i was the highest paid lad in the factory they sold those vans and sent them overseas they stored those vans on the heath where i grew up and cut my teeth
Where goldfinch nests were well in reach and gypsy still roamed the heathers sweet where views were rich to Waterloo and fleets ole bill knott was quiet a guy a millionare they say with the gypsy eye.
Across the waters
Across the waters i shed a tear for the long lost soldiers in a land of fear the battles raging the storms ahead in a land of desert where victory treads
The call to Armour and gallantry the call of freedom and long lost pleas the trumpets sounded and the drummers roll the flags are flying for long lost souls
There's plenty dying and wounded souls where democracy's echoes so long ago the solitary footman in a land of fears where orders are taken amidst honest tears
The souls who squandered their liberties in a word of doctrines left on broken knees where the call to arms is to you or me where the falling soldiers stand for liberty.
A rabbiting
I took my dogs a rabbiting along the beaten tracks there were ferns upon the hillsides and a sack upon my back i had ferret's in my pockets and some bread rolls for my tea there were lots of stingers on the downs and none em troubled me
The tracks were sandy narrow walks and the lizards squirmed a few i heard a chaffinch sing across at Waterloo the walks to lodge hill were steep the dogs they did a play i called them over to my side as we walked the narrow ways
The canford broom did smell and the furze bloom was perfume i heard a hawk screech in the air whilst a blackbird sang its tune
There were gypsy vardos on the hills where knotty never went there were swampy ground beneath your feet reeds growing so deep
The sun was high into the sky which was painted saintly blue i saw some gypsies playing chase then heard a cuss or two
My catapult was in my belt my eyes were set to free the cast of dogs upon my back delighted in this spree
The tracks all led to higher ground where burrows rich in grass held treasures yet to be explored by dogs so proud and fast
They sniffed around the holey grounds then we let the ferrets play whilst nets were laid o'er holes of soil whilst dogs did chase and bark then rabbits ran and dogs had fun the ferrets did explore where tunnels met below the soil who could want for more.
CHAINS OF LOVE.
Inside the chateau of her mind where dreams are cast and lovers find the pathways to some cloistral home where birds do sing and poets roam
Soft were her words like pastel paint brushes flowing hair so feint where kisses whisper in the breeze and poets find their solaced dreams
Ofttimes Ive travelled down that road where love was offered and composed where lines of poetry oft confessed the tranquility of her nakedness
Soft breezes blow and trees did sway where lovers nested in the hay where squirrels did chase and nuts did find where love was new and life was kind
No sadness reached her aching heart where lips were kissed and lovers ere did part where ground was soft beneath ner breasts where hollow truths that day confessed
The sun it shone to greet the day where rabbits hopped and hoppers played where crickets chirped their astral song where anthems played and love was strong
The love she offered was so true with kisses sweet upon the dew where swans were idling sailing by on rivers quiet before their eyes
The chains of life cast no shame as they bared their flesh and kissed the reins of Ecstasy and passions sweet where sodden earth did bless their feet
The hunger of each lovers kiss the words she whispered from her lips the nectar he drank from her ventral home where solace whispered and fingers roamed
There in that secret sanctuary he swept the cobwebs from her tree he gathered in the crops of joy and ushered in the love of boy their rapture gained and bodies entwined amongst the grass and willows vines where only birdsong broke the chain where love was born and love remained.
Gypsy's on canford heath.
The caravans glory is written in sand like the dreams from the heath lands the lonely steel bands the chimes of the clock and the walk to the door the preachers and lovers unite in the hall
The ponies that run there free on the moors the old toothless ladies with pure words so pure the poetry reads there like the new dawning sun with cows in the meadows and rabbits a run
The work in the factory and the times not your own with hours spent in fashion and no wheres to roam there a church bell that chimes there and a scene for to see with lonely sidewalks and a stroll to the sea
The organist plays his music so sweet with chords of pure love and honey to eat there's food on the table and wagons that roll there's an old gypsy saying left out in the cold
So beat the drum lowly and ply the flute fine with cherished emotions and words on the vine there's a gypsy boy playing out on the heath but its only a childhood left a cutting his teeth.
RAGS TO RICHES.
From rags to riches from Caesars palace to botany bay from rags to riches win the bet and squander it all away
From rags to riches king of the road today tomorrow in the gutter got to be on my way
From rags to riches rich man in a spin from destiny rides a winner to bottom of the pits last whim
From rags to riches all on the last rolled dice from home in the desert to a castle and a moat on ice
From rags to rich homes fit for a king from rags to riches depends on the moods I'm in
From fools in the shelters banks in debt to me and you from rags to riches say how do ya do.
LINKS.
links to poetry/ Click on pics
Childrens poetry.
Dorset poetry.
Gypsy poetry.
Saving the bunnies
There's hordes of rabbits on canford bottom roundabout they've been there for years playing in their Warren roustabouts
The drivers watch them as they go to work each day delighting in their antics and the gracefull way they play the council play to build a dual carriageway n destroy their homes right away
Just like the story of watership down they'll destroy their homes and mow em down the local people want to see them stay upon the grass like kids at play
So save the bunnies is the call to keep our heritage is the call the machinery is all prepared plus the poison to see them dead so its save the bunnies without delay and keep them scurrying today
The cause is vital and so is the plan to save the bunnies you understand they say their vermin and not protected by the law but without the bunnies we will all be poor save the bunnies.
Grandfathers times
He wrote songs in those olden golden days when words were so respected and folks all loved his ways he was a onetime soldier who never went to war a poet song-smith brother and he wrote a million scores
You could hear him on the radio or watch his shows in state he was a poet drifter though he was never on the make his songs they had a message and his verse was all a rhyme he lived upon the highway and his songs were sung in time
They sang his songs to queens and they sang his songs to poor he was a drifter on the road of life and his Truth is heard no more his like are few and far between like Zimmerman today he counted all his blessings and for the people he did play
All along the watchtower the master strums the key with words all crafted sweetly and themes so heavenly long before the winds of change ushered in the storm when song-smiths hummed a melody long before your born
The likes of him will haunt you through cracks of distant tunes when moonlight danced the polka and lines were all in tune the streets were full of hope and tears where battles had been fought to warrant in a brand new world where love and Truth were taught.
CONTEMPORARY POETRY PAGE TWO
|
Japanese Times
The moon changed its orbit and the sun spat its flares the lord gave his warning and the child said his prayers all masters of unions cried out with despair whilst the cockerel was crowing and the prophets were bared
The lantern was lit in the wars of the day with cattle still grazing and the world had its way the nations were weeping and the hills were in shock there were thousands laid dying whilst the ark it was locked
The nations they gathered and the warriors in tow the crumbs of the table were scattered below the vagabond soldiers were crying in fear whilst the leaders were planning the child shed a tear
The horrors were rolling and the drumbeat was bare with soldiers of fortune with vanity spared the seas were erupting and the tidal wave gained another crowd gathered whilst others remained
The Libyians were fighting for freedom and Truth whilst old women prayed so old in the tooth the wars cast a shadow and the young man he cried whilst the shepherd of life lit a candle so wise
The tragedy struck and the nature was true with fortitude lost in the home of the blues whilst nations did whisper the talk was in vain but only the children laughed in the rain
The fears built on chains that the prophets foretold of wise men and seers left out in the cold religions and doctrines were cast in the frame whilst soldiers still fought for humanity's gain
Alone on the hilltop the lord saved the souls of millions left daily alone and so cold whilst young men were trained in the fear of the days to fight the good fight and the freedom to save
The pages were turned and the foes became friends all for the sake of the ink and the pen the world it was small and yet Truth it was rich with only the victors left stranded and rich
The castaway soldiers and the ships out at sea all seeking the Truth of freedoms last plea the sorrows were many whilst the horrors were deep old men they wailed and the young dreamed in sleep.
Hes got it covered
Hes got it covered every inch of the way hes got his mind on Truth never ever strays
Hes never known to stumble never fails you see his words are full of Truth and life only victory
He got it covered every step of the way you wont see him on the sidewalk hes too clever to move that way
Hes got it covered his mind is on the job hes full of inspiration not any Joe or bob
Hes got it covered knows you and me hes not on your facebok you wont see him on TV
But hes got it covered knows all that going on hes full of Truth and wonder his words are vibrant strong
Hes got it covered every war and minds of men he doesn't live in your house or call on number 10
Hes got it covered don't worry hes in full control for hes the God of Abraham and Jesus don't you know.
Divine pathways
Paths of wonders and trails of the blues walks through the woodland amidst the morning dew forests of slumber with woodland birdsong bright floral decorations planted in the morning daylight
The sun that shines upon all lovers the moon that casts its spells the seven golden wonders the running streams and all the wishing wells
The rainbow in the heavens the stars at night that twinkle n shine the love in your life to greet you down the paths of the divine.
Woman
She was a superwoman branded a saint brought up a family love and warpaint
She cooked in the kitchen grew in the yard worked in the factory she played the life cards
Forsaken all others she paid the full cost deserted in marriage love on the rocks
Hurt and neglected abused by her fame she was caught in the stumps at the love game
Her children were grown now tears on the shelf childhood so full thoughts not of herself
Crushed by the pages read in the book branded a woman alone and mistook
She left her false promises apron and chains traveled the world life's not the same
Happy contented free as a bird she smiles through the window happy assured.
|
|
|
|
HOME 
| Visitor Counter: | |||||||
 |  |  | |  |  | ||