Please note that the views expressed by these poets do not necessarily represent the views of the 'Four Walls for Freedom Campaign'. We support free speech and have thus not edited any of them.



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Poetry Collection

Untitled

In summer you force yourselves

Upon us. All about a wild

Haze of leaning lust and

Afrodisiae. Pollen smudged bark

And pungent air, soft little

Tendrils and ravishing hair;

An old master's palette upon

Which I idly do stare. The gnarled roots

They thrive, their branches

Cleave cleansed air whilst

I just sit here watching

From someones old chair.

A wanton cornucopia of

Sublime delights

I know I feel yer

And I'll miss these long nights

Your sound is your scent

Your touch won't relent

Your vision for one person

Only is meant.

Divorce

i walked into an empty house

a void of a room, a place of marriage doom

for immortal love here had been doused

the thread of conversation from a broken loom

on the table was a picture brass frame housed

of a happy bride, a poignant groom

their faces did not foretell the breakdown roused

of divorce found ever too soon

on the bedroom dresser lay a broken wedding dress

and dead flowers wilted in a vase of oily cess

the place was a jilted mess

and all there was less

her name was Tess

that's all

Untitled

Does a butterfly

Recall imago

And pupae

Just like yesterday?

A frog fantasise

flippantly about

Old spawn and it's

First murky dawn?

A dog pine

The dull bark

Of a log it pissed

Upon yesterday?

A swan it's shell

Long dissolved

And disseminated

Down the river?

I doubt it but

I wonder because

The blackbird sings

The same song

Dusk after dusk

From fermenting husk

To dissolving rust.

World Views

World Views and language games

They made a society go up in flames

The tragedy of warring nations

A worrying and troubling destination

Like a pop song they had no weight

Like an astronaut atop the moon

They came with bombs and hate

And bring our lives to an end soon

But what is the reason for a culture going to war

Is it the hurt, the anger that makes them sore

Is the idea of them and us a truth to be told

Or is it that our lives have for oil been sold

The vagaries and superfluous lies of the politician

Are matched by fundamentalism and superstition

Yet there is no hope without a lasting solution

There is no silver bullet or salving lotion

Football

The football craze begins to stir

The players dodge and turn to be a lure

We must win in this world war 2006

All our troubles it will fix

Football, football, football, football

They come short and tall

To the field of play that represents a world's events

To the leaders this submission is heaven sent

There is no scene of greater love

No romantic film that can bind men as one

Than a primate fight that takes one's sight

And elevates those who are not bright

Lines written upon Brixton Hill

Are empty,

Without sound

Effects.

So as

I write.

I listen

To the swirl

Of sirens

And blue flashes

That ignite

The streets below

Where hooded

Shadows lope

And shape shift

Along littered pavements

Heckled by whores

Who loiter provocatively

In patent leather

Their bruised flesh

Exposed at the height

Of winter.

I like it

Up here

In my box;

My window's Eye;

A pinhole camera

That catches all

That goes by

Like an insomniac's

Nightmare.

Certain Songs Ring Bells

Certain songs ring bells

"We are together"

Disperse lingering hells

"All people unite"

Bring water up from dry wells

"Let love grow"

This song a story tells

"Stay together........."

For we are forever

Ignorant of time

A moment never

Wasted for

What is yours

Is mine

And together we shine, shine, shine.

"We are together"

Hopefully forever

"All people unite"

Today and tonight

"Let love grow"

So that we'll

"Stay together".

For we are forever, forever

Aware of what

Is yours and

What is mine

Whilst constantly ignoring

The give way sign

Yet somehow together

We shine, shine, shine.

Lust

Lust, it is loves neighbour,

but it does not covet its neighbor's goods.

Lust, it is an unrelenting tide

in and out, a man's labour.

As birds do come and go

Flying then roosting

As the sun begins its journey and ends, so

Lust is never sated with a feasting.

The moon yawns high above, as below,

In the boat of the lovers it does row,

Yet comes lust like ivy, enveloping slow-

And intertwined they fail to each other know.

Carrion clawing vulture, is lust to the Christian

Yet others in the East, see lust as a hopeful bastion

War is created by lust -

In this surely we can trust.

Whilst drowning I become a fish

Eyes open-

External,

Physical,

Reality shapes....

Emotion.

Eyes closed-

Inverted;

A disguise

As emotion

Shapes a reality....

Somewhere else,

But not

Elsewhere.

Alone but

Not tearing

Out my hair....

As subtle shades

Replace

Slick shadows....

Shed the straight jacket

And leap free.

Whilst drowning

I become fish...

Water swills

Around my new

Found gills.

Weighed down

By the liquid

That fills

My aqualungs

I free fall

Front crawl

And merge with

The cyclone squall...

Fathoming new

Depths of

Free forming dna

That belongs

To a time

That knows

No day.

Gut wrenching hell

Gut wrenching hell

Stomach churning

Like a church bell

Crazily messed brain

Ideas jangling

Like a possessed bunch of keys

Sick sick senses

Depraved and concave

Prone and prostrate

All tenses rave and frustrate

Ego marooned and becalmed

On the fringe of a mendacious storm

Your rules have shattered any norm

Raw sensation sensuously balmed

In your bliss.

You slowly take over with a hiss hiss hiss.



You said

You said, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No"

We are just ordinary people

In a crazy circumstance

With a need to circumspect

No need, as of yet,

For any mutual respect

Who knows......perchance...

One day our lives may meet properly

And then we may dissect

These petty, negative feelings

And superimpose positive healings;

God willing,

No tears;

Just lovely, natural, feelings

Oh how I suppose and hope so;

Just like the flower longs

To grow and grow

Before the hoe

Sheers its subterranean seed in two.

Shelley's mirror

Isis wed mercurious

and all was well

the world became clear

as Shelley's mirror would tell

the love that holds together

the atoms of the body

is a knotted plot

to get the world ready

beyond the ken of mortal man

but within the eyes of mortal woman

is the spirit that talks

the anima of Jung

it sings a musely song.

Lust again

Lust, Lust Lust,

It's such a bitch,

Damp tortuous nights nights dreaming,

About some girl who's actually a witch.

Lust Lust Lust,

It's all a bit Sh!t

Endless mental energy spent,

Result? You look a complete tit.

Lust Lust, Lust.

Here we go again

One smile, one look, one pair of shapely legs,

And you locked in the Bastille of Pain.

Lust Lust Lust

Lust after the small,

Who bloody needs rumpy pumpy,

When you've got Bastard SCRUMPY!!!!

Lust again and again

The problem with Lust,

Is that it is Boobs or Bust!

Nothing will satisfy the quest

Like coping a grope of a breast.

Open or wrapped sir?

As long as you squeeze her,

The 'undercover' lover is just as sweet,

As the totally un-packaged treat!

Dodge that bra, with your wrist

Here comes the surprising twist!

It's not getting you and in that's Hard,

It's getting it out again before she has a mard!!!

to Lebanon

will anyone remember you

child strewn across the road

have you got anything to do

play, jump, laugh, go to the loo

violence is justified against civilians

says bin laden

but then so does Ehud olmurt

on civilians is the burden laden

it is they who get hurt

the buildings which once were networks of people

now like a desert, deserted, a curt reminder of power

the mosque gone, no more the church steeple

can a world in troubles go any lower.

Whisper

Whisper-

A breath of love in despair

Whisper-

In, out, the soft tide of warm air

I feel the strength of hope and lies

Inside my mouth as the word dies

The heart, the soul, it needs a scriptwriter

In agony I wonder if I can be a fighter

Two people sit together and tell nothing to each other

Yet these nothings are short aspirations, of what they could be together

The hills, the trees, the lines of clouds, the heather

The world is perfect, the sun, the holy weather

Can I muse or amuse and not lose

Is this poem a great big ruse

Whose poem is this, whose

Can you really choose

The meanings that come from sentences

Are like a jail with walls as tenses

Envelope yourself, cover your senses

In a war on tremours of the soul, you sitting in the trenches.

Politics

politics is theatre

as all the worlds a play

but war is politics by other means

as Clausewitz would say

so what is the theatre of war?

WAR and peace

the world was born of peace

it's creator rested after the effort of making it

but now all that has ceased

and the earth has gone to shit

bombs rail overhead and underneath

the suicide killer, the USA daisycutter comes down from the plane

is this the answer?

verse becomes tease

and i would prefer curry with peas

for the terse verse is in reverse

and bin laden's messages ring overhead like cluster bombs

killing has become normal

and the creator would be crying

on his cross, on his crescent, in the Buddha pose

and sit alone and be all a sighing

for with war we only lose

but there is a glimmer of hope

for war must always end

it just depends when.

Plathos

The kitchen blade

will snicker snack

My puny wrist

A moments sharp pain

Will end

In eternal bliss.

These are the thoughts

These are the feelings

That hiss hiss hiss.

The little jellies

Will slide and slip

Down down down

My rabid throat

And a few gargled swills

Will end all ills.

These are the cravings

These are the ravings

That kill kill kill.

The bridge is near

The bridge is far

What is in between

Lefty still unseen?

The cliff is high

The trough is low

Where am I?

I do not know

Now where I'll be

When I choose to go.



Just drawing you

Just drawing you

Brought you soaring

Back so strikingly

To my starving memory

Reciting and recycling

In lines linked times

Refined and defined

A little of you here and there

Lips open..lips closed

An eybrow...a nose

Lashes and lashes

Dots and dashes

Hair parting

Falling, and meeting

Those eyes flashing

Flinging feelings

An expression

An obsession

Craving those eyes

So crazy really

In all seriousness

So ridiculous

No need for all that.

What we had.

What we had was difficult.

Trying to explore each other,

Trying to guess, and second guess,

One another's needs.

To short a time to get under the skin,

Still trying to impress each other,

Even now, on the phone,

Seven thousand miles away.

The banality of relations is astonishing,

Maneourves in the dark,

Breaking cover, hiding again.

Trying to conjure the other.

Why does it always have to be this way?

Is fear of rejection so intense?

What is it about the fear of loss,

That drives people to such extremes.

There has to be another way.

To revel in another's affection,

Building a story together,

Rather than playing an opponents alone.

If she 'wins' this game then fair enough,

She is more beautiful and intelligent than me,

To not conform to anyone else's bequest,

And just enjoy creation, that's my goal.

Given up on these power games.

I was being murdered anyway.

To live a life where to give,

Is appreciated, by both parties.

These are the qualities I want to explore.

In myself and another.

She Said

She said

'You have so much angst, it's really unattractive.'

She's right,

Angst is really crap.

It makes a person look weak,

Scared.

Maybe,

A couple of photo's of her,

Our on my computer at work,

Looking at them brings on this strong fuzzy glow,

Where's the angst come in?

The love for this woman,

Which wells up in my stomach,

Burning through my body,

Leaving me ravished,

Blushing at the nakedness,

Of the desire.

Why then angst?

Conquer the fear,

What then?

New fear?

What is the fear saying?

Is it just a highly developed sense?

Absorbing shock

Before

During

After

She finds it unattractive.

Am I offended?

No.

Angst is Crap

There was a time,

When presentation of perfection,

Or at least an interpretation

There of.

Mattered

She talks about her ex boyfriends.

Should have said something before,

But didn't know how,

Wanted to be strong,

Wanted to ask her,

If it's always like this at the start.

Laying the groundwork for the end.

Paul

Martyn

Feels like her attention,

Likes to wander off of me,

Like we are never alone.

Great sex

Bad sex

Dirty sex

What about our sex?

What would you like to do?

With you?

To you?

Can we talk about that?

If not, why not?

I'd just like her to show me,

To waltz in the realms of ecstasy

Not lead this elaborate dance

Of

20

30

40

Questions,

Feels like your best times were in the past.

With men you loved for years

I can't compete with their attention,

After but a few months.

If angst is crap, then I have,

Unfortunately,

A crap side of me.

It's there,

Human,

Work with it,

May not ever go away,

But it will never consume

The beauty you see.

Which is the point

Yet with her, more is the word,

More than a fantasy,

More than an intellectual game.

If she so completely hates this,

She should walk away,

Under tiredness

Stress

Duress

I crack

Mood nose-dives

Light sucked out of my soul.

Will go through many evenings

If she walks,

Being

Tired,

Emotional,

Hurt.

Yet while I would walk over hot coals for her,

Take the force of the knocks she gets,

Sympathise

Empathise

Be strong, calm, wise, positive.

Talk 'till dawn if that's what she needs,

(For my soul aches when I see her distressed,)

That's some commitment,

If she can't live with a little weakness,

Perhaps leaving is best.

One Night Stand

I woke that morning with her,

The hazy fascination with her soul,

Seemed to belong in another realm.

The carnal actuality of the situation,

Like a sirocco scorched my mind,

The hot sand it carried covered our bodies,

Giving a warmth that painfully, yet fundamentally,

Belonged with the dirt on the ground.

Like a desert flower wilting in the sun,

Longing for the sensuous rain,

Wilts and dies on it's own,

Leaving little but a sad corpse,

As evidence of its desire and hope.

And I, as I luxuriate in delicious rain,

Know that the drought.

Is but an hour away.

I have no need of her, indeed,

Such a thought terrifies my very being,

Yet in these precious minutes of luxury,

Touching her eyes with mine,

Running my hands across her chest,

Dancing in its purest form,

Reaching out across the void existence.

And having the void kiss me back.

If that's all she is,

A refection of the void, right here right now,

The flower will die, its soul galvanised

To rise again in divine precipitation.

But the thought that's dying right now,

Is that I long to Dance with her soul,

And have her soul kiss me back.

You asked if Philosophers should be politicians

You asked if Philosophers should be politicians,

I said no,

Gandhi was a lawyer,

Used the law

Kicked a corrosive superpower,

Out of his homeland,

Then declined to be its leader.

Blair is a Lawyer,

Had an Illegal war.

Didn't give a F**k about the law.

He just loves being in charge.

If leaders are philosophers,

They'd only wreak the truth,

Twist it,

Change it,

For good and bad.

Politics is the art of the possible,

Therein lies the beauty.

And the horror.

Hannah

Hannah ran through the field

of poesy and pretty shield

of light and dome covered land

the world was blues, greens and sand

the creeping desert became a terror

it gave fear and deep horror

for there was only one

for her to see

that would take her from this

territory

and nothing spoke

and nothing broke

but the heart was heavy

and a little revvy

like a car

that pollutes the atmosphere

the only soul that would find dear

was in IKEA

buying gear

for the house or flat

who knows if there was a cat

or maybe just a hat

but nevertheless

there was too much in the cold light of day to say that there was something

a thing of beauty

she's Hannah

who likes to make banners

and art and darting comments

and banners

oh i said that already

i think my name is Freddy

but if it doesn't rhyme

is it poetry

and if it does,

is it nonsense

but then we saw

it all together

and there we were

a little treasure

a little pleasure

and some leisure

Mannah

Hannah is manna from heaven,

she's a bright spark in the dark,

a world away, a sheltered haven,

a joyful release, a humble ark,

where all of the world can be saved,

a grinding mill, a stone lathe,

that takes life's problems and turns them into powder,

a woman with real power.

Love poem

i cannot believe it,

i cannot, cannot believe

the world is a Plath-like melody

of misery and shame

yet the light still shines

and the path is open

like a circle's lines

infinite beyond mortal ken

as though I were sleeping

i breath lightly

and dreams follow

this love is true, rightly

and not a hollow

empty fading rainbow

something unsightly

To a girl

your beauty is a lie,

because it's too good to be true,

from my feelings I could die,

because I haven't been given my due.

I'd love to know you better,

because without it I am dulled,

Your emails, voice or letter,

my mind would be mulled.

You are a fine wine,

A bouquet of innocence and wonder,

perhaps we could dine, sometime,

Without you I am like a storm without thunder.

Four Walls for Freedom Campaign ? 2006 all rights reserved