Lemmings - John E Blaise

He is in a queue a line of people.
No end in sight like a slow meandering river.
Dusty path sweltering heat sore feet.
Vultures ride thermals in the cloudless skies,
Below the humming buzzing flies,
The distant unknown creature cries.
Shuffle forward zombie like for hours and hours.
No end in sight no tunnel no light
Walk forward onwards in a trance.
Avoid the quicksand try to make a stance.
Some of the people wear masks or veils.
Bloodshot hollow staring eyes.
Snake like the line winds and moves.
Towards the final destination.
Shuffle forward zombie like for hours and hours.
Will there be sweet times peace and solace.
Is this the path to happiness.
Life's elixir,nirvana arcadia,Avalon Shangri -la
Is it close how far.
Time to contemplate reminisce remember.
How important and significant life has been.
He has arrived now all can be seen.
There is nothing nothing nothing nothing.

John E Blaise


Image : Pixabay - janeb13

Fish - John E Blaise

Today's poem is a "Golden Oldie" and was originally published here in June 2012

Kippers on the breakfast table
Sardines gridlocked nose to tail
Salmon smoked not cured
Sharks on loan from Seaworld
Rainbow trout skate on thin ice
Searching for pots of gold
Codpiece worn below the waist
Monkfish swim to the sermon in haste
Pike staff the factory floor
Soles always down trodden so poor
Chubb swimming so safely in the loch
Conger eels dance in a line
Shoals of minnows everywhere
Carp complain and swear
But there's a ray of light, some hope
And quite a few Red Herrings!

John E Blaise

Temptation - John E Blaise

Today's poem is a "Golden Oldie" and was originally published here in April 2012

I woke up in the middle of the night
Wearing striped pyjamas that was strange.
I could have been dreaming I wasn't sure
As I walked towards the open door,
Outside, inside the enclosed garden
I followed a snail trail left on the paving slabs.
The trail was delicate and fine
But so direct and purposeful a ley-line
Led me to a beautiful woman, a bright paragon
Naked, bare, uncovered yes nude
Apart from pink petals that covered her feet
An awesome presence yet she was so petite
She smiled and asked me to follow her
I must have been shocked I just said no
So she asked whether she should go
I said I didn't really know
She ordered me to close my eyes real tight,
Then open them real slow.
I woke up in the middle of the night
Naked that was strange.

John E Blaise

Barfly - John E Blaise

Change the world whilst sitting on a stool,
Authority on life, but everybody’s fool
Sitting in the same spot every day,
Always an opinion, something to say.

Listened to, smiled at, abused or ignored,
Most too polite to say they are bored
By the barfly the authority on life
Bet he has a long suffering wife.

Ultra confident on home ground
Talking loudly to everyone around
Over and over again in case something is missed,
Trouble is he’s always pissed.

John E Blaise

Sorry John - John E Blaise

Grey, thin, drinks tonic water mixed with Gin.
Toothless, not bearded or a hag, walks with a wooden stick,
Winks an eye surrounded by wrinkled skin,
Try to imagine her first romance,
Love making between silk sheets,
Steamy passion behind closed doors,
Groaning and moaning through the floors.
Imagine, Imagine, Imagine.
Frail, once a plump woman,
Now a skeleton, dressed for dinner,
I see her wearing a shroud
Followed around by a dark shadow
Has nothing left to say or discuss
I don’t believe in Jesus

John E Blaise

Street Man - John E Blaise

He’s stretched out amongst broken bin sacks
Waiting for early morning collection.
Lost, dazed, incoherent, vomit on his mac,
Fumbling round his makeshift bed with some affection
You could plant seeds under his dirty finger nails,
Never been manicured just torn and split
Ragged trousers smothered in shit.
A spiritual man in more ways than one
Waiting for the next drink to come
Broken home, abused as a child,
Smashed windows, always wild
Borstal care, corrective institutions
Prison punishment, no method in the madness
Whole life filled with utter sadness.
At last he waits with a tinder dry throat
Steals his first drink from a passing milk float
Stretches, staggers, belches and gives a yawn
City street cleaners tell him it’s dawn,
Walks past every hostel, way past salvation
Heads towards warmth, the underground station
Sits in a corner away from public eyes,
Eats from a discarded bag of French fries
Searches for cardboard to build his new home
In the crowded city, he’s always alone.

John E Blaise

Last Chance - John E Blaise

Have you had your last tango.
Your last dance,
Last taste of romance?

Have you had your last supper,
Your last meal
How do you feel?

Have you had your last wish,
Your last talk
Can you walk?

Have you had your last chance,
Your last breath?
Now it’s death.

John E Blaise

Lambs - John E Blaise

On the last day of June
All the lambs leave the fields,
They follow each other like sheep.
Herded into cattle trucks,
Forced onto freight trains,
Queuing up in formal lines
Adorned with garlands of rosemary
Woollen lambs not lemmings
Waiting for the chop
Shaved, stripped bare and pink
Then ready for the ovens
Barbecued, stewed, fried, roasted,
Portions of scrag, loin, leg, shoulder.
And on the table a plate of cutlets
Proudly wearing chef’s hats.

John E Blaise

A List Of Birds - John E Blaise

Duck, she’s thrown a plate
Pigeon, sitting on a bar stool
Cuckoo, mad and crazy, playing the fool
Coot, bored and pissed
Owl, wise and old
Blue Tit, must be cold
Lark, up for a jolly jape
Robin, wearing Batman’s cape
Kite, flying high in the sky
Swan, just lazing around
Parrot, the words abound
Rook, will screw you for a pound
Goose, it must be chased then cooked
Chicken, are you scared of me
Gannet, just too greedy
Swallow, chew your food
Crow, gloating with satisfaction
Shag, it’s just for a reaction.

John E Blaise

Boxer - John E Blaise

In the clearing stands a boxer
Big and strong and brave,
He is panting really fast
As though every breath will be his last.
Battle scarred but not marred
Punch drunk , no hunch, still straight
He will stand and wait.
A veteran of many scraps
Ducking and diving avoiding the traps
But time has caught him up
He will soon have to stop
Will this be his last fight?
To win this one is his given right

But I have to cross the clearing

I am a coward, I am very weak
I have a giant yellow streak
So we make eye contact, shuffle around a bit
I am going to need just one big hit
I have to save face, save the day
Then he snarls and growls then barks
So I turn and run away!

John E. Blaise

You Are A Rock - John E Blaise

You are a rock
The key to the lock
The hen to the cock
The shoe to the sock
The stew to the stock
The hind to the buck
The ship to the dock
The ham to the hock
The sheep to the flock
The door to the knock
The hem to the frock
The food to the wok
The hand to the clock
The tick to the tock
You should be in shock
Because you are a rock

John E Blaise

Large Animal - John E Blaise

You are the vibrant, vicious, victor
The power and the gory
Your tale tells the story.
Dog fights under blue skies
Above the spitfire flies
You can see the bloodshot eyes
Hear the growls and battle cries
Sheep’s clothing no disguise
Your blooded open wounds
Fancy a fight for freedom or fun
Demoralized, defeated on the run,
Representing your rough, roguish species
Just like Professor Plum’s thesis.
Wrong way, off course, uptight,
Or spoiling for another fight
Preying on the wingless flight
The purged pointless plight
Hide under the spreading chessboard
Striving for strategy and super tactics
Shaded by a large lopped tree
Creature emerge from land and sea
Battle cries and fighting talk
Begin to crawl, creep then walk
Forget all the winter time blues
Lights working without a fuse
Now decision time, win or lose
There’s no escape, no place to run
From the mad Englishman with dogs and gun

John E Blaise

Sorry Peter, Paul and Mary - John E Blaise

Where have all the flower power people gone?
Long- time passing
Where have all the flower power people gone?
Long-time ago
They have gone to ground, disappeared everyone
The bearded ban the bomb beatniks
The free love, free living fan,
Pass us the hash tray man
Let’s have a revolution if we can
The vociferous anti-Vietnam war protesters
Those who took the Greenham common stance
Just give peace a chance.
The happy, hippy movement a wave of bright colour
Are they now ageing anarchists and agitators?
Or anti-establishment conspiracy theorists
Now settled with two point four children or grandchildren
To continue their life style would be so brave
So they drift away leaving room for the new wave,
Of young people, free spirits with an open mind
Able to question and probe whatever they find
Meanwhile the one time pusher of soft drugs
Is now a small time dealer selling rugs.

John E Blaise

The Right Book - John E Blaise

Fruit of flowers for the sick
Smell the freshness, deliver them quick.
An apple a day, go and pray,
For health not wealth.
I hope your God listens,
As the gold cross glistens.
In the dark, dank, empty church,
Long abandoned by lost souls.
In search of redemption or attention,
To the plight of the terminally ill.
Ferociously searching or fighting for the will,
To go forward into the fray,
Or to pause on ‘all souls day’,
If your denomination allows you
The freedom to pursue your own mind,
You have to be kind to be cruel.
You know there is only one golden rule,
It’s written so clearly, no need to look
You just have to find the right book.

John E Blaise

Clowns - John E. Blaise

Where is the clown with the frown?
I’m searching for the white rabbit
That lives in the bottom of the magician’s hat
Or the dog with the bone free of fat
Barbecued, well done, meaty and thick
Waiting for the fight I’m ready to pick.

Where is the clown with the sad face?
He’s planning to leave and packed his case
Ill- fitting trousers and oversized shoes
Never taken seriously has nothing to lose
A cocktail of smudged greasepaint and tears
He’s never able to expel all his fears.

Where is the clown with the happy face?
Feeling so high in outer space
Bucket of water poured down his pants
Smile disappears as he rages and rants
As the audience laugh, he’s filled with dread
He needs all this like a hole in the head.

John E. Blaise

Bad Vibes - John E. Blaise

People are crying, lying and dying
I’m in a living hell
I’ve read the last chapter in the New Testament,
I’ve found the beast, but the number is 999,
I want to jump hand in hand with St. John
I want the apocalypse now.

People are lying dying and crying
I’m trapped in a spiral and I can’t get out,
I’m on a treadmill and I can’t get off
I would like to scream, I would like to shout
Please someone help me.

People are dying, crying and lying
I have found out earth is hell
All alone, will somebody listen.
Someone cares I can tell, is there no escape
Mumble and stutter towards the back end of time
Plenty of memories to live on, I feel fine,
That’s the trouble.

John E. Blaise

The Man from Mars - John E. Blaise

From outside of society
the man from Mars stares agape
At our play now pay later life style.
Run by money driven capitalistic,
bourgeois, fascist hypocrites
who donate small amounts of money
from large corporate funds
to appease the silent majority.

Fat cats skimming off the cream
Sitting on millions.
With ego's the size of hot air balloons.
World run on currency
Environmental decisions made to fill wallets
By self-opinionated bigots
Everything contaminated and polluted
Apart from areas surrounding their domains
Their warm insulated castles.

Eyes closed, noses raised firmly upwards
Oblivious of any real poverty
Caused by corrupt third world governments
Backed by Western money
Laundered through offshore Islands
By shady illegal gangster firms
Dealing in tainted drug money
Helping to sustain monopolies and empires
All set up for future generations to inherit.

John E. Blaise

Mirror - John E Blaise

I saw an old school friend and had a shock
I had not seen him for at least forty years.
His harsh appearance brought on the tears.
He was bald, hunched and wrinkled,
Had middle age spread and could hardly see.
So he didn't recognise me.

John E Blaise

Christmas - John E Blaise

Christmas time,
agnostics are attracted to the church.
The spiritual quietness at this Holy time of year,
And all the religious imagery of Christmas;
In the bleak mid winter,
Carols, choirs, Jesus, Mary and Joseph
Cattle lowing, wise men, Angels and shepherds fear,
Then there has to be deep crisp snow
Large Christmas trees with flashing fairy lights,
Blazing log fires, holly wreaths and mistletoe,
A happy jovial plump Santa Claus.
Children shouting, screaming, easy to excite
Ready to open their bulging sacks of toys.
Tables laden with mountains of food
And happy, warm inside, that's how we are supposed to feel.
But let’s get down to earth, let’s get real.
Weathers always mild, damp, usually drizzle.
Christmas starts in mid October ends in January
I've spent ten pounds on Peter only eight on Paul
What do I buy to make up the shortfall.
Shocked to receive cards from friends long forgotten.
The hypocrisy of smiling, eating with people you loathe.
How may people actually enjoy Christmas day?
Tired from over indulgence, financially ruined.
The average person just plain poor
Exploited by the blatant greed of shops and stores.
Yet we still celebrate oblivious of any other nation.
As though Christmas is the same the whole world over.
Just pause for one second or even a minute
While the small children amuse themselves with the wrapping paper
Forgetting the toy inside the parcel.
Think of the starving hungry child
Abroad and then on our doorsteps.
People who can never seek sanctuary, peace of mind.
The old, the frail, the sick, the lonely.
People who dread the mere mention of Christmas
And even the birth of Christ.
Say a prayer for all of them.

John E Blaise

I Need To Stay Awake - John E Blaise

Vultures circling in the sky on thermals high
Jackals and Hyena's standing by
Sharks lurking in the ocean deep
Waiting, waiting for me to sleep.

As the wolves howl and prowl
Moving closer cheek to jowl
Creatures from the underworld creep
Waiting, waiting for me to sleep.

Six eyed cerberus moving from the gate
All three heads filled with hate
To them all life is cheap
Waiting, waiting for me to sleep.

Lurking in the shadows black
They will give no leeway cut no slack
They have an appointment to keep
Waiting, waiting for me to sleep.

Nodding off and drifting away
Time for the harpies to come out and play
Ready to flay, slay and reap
The waiting is over I'm falling asleep.

John E Blaise