Hell is not as bad as people say it is
I have been in it for years
O K, sometimes you cry a few tears
Find yourself shaking with all sorts of fears
Lay awake all night in unbelievable pain
Then you have to get up again and again
Pretend to be happy and force yourself to smile
It is true to say that life has been a trial
At least it is dry and warm down here
It does not cost anything to stay
I am in he devils furnace
It is so hot here, I am melting away.
Lester Queripel and Fred Williamson
The Accident - Elizabeth Fisher
A cloud of sorrow hung damp and heavy over the crowd.
Where had they come from?
It was as if a nest of insects had emerged from the dry cracks in the earth and surrounded the corps.
The feeling was contagious
Like a killing desease
Spreading through the area.
No one spoke
The silence was broken by the loud sirens of speeding police cars and ambulances.
Blue lights flashed.
Actions were fast.
The ripple of exitement moved the throng.
The biker was dead.
The van that had turned in haste was discarded on the side.
No witnesses were found.
Just those who had heared the terrible bang.
A life was gone.
A saddness lingered and hovered over the grassy verge.
There was a feeling of perpetual grief.
Elizabeth Fisher
Where had they come from?
It was as if a nest of insects had emerged from the dry cracks in the earth and surrounded the corps.
The feeling was contagious
Like a killing desease
Spreading through the area.
No one spoke
The silence was broken by the loud sirens of speeding police cars and ambulances.
Blue lights flashed.
Actions were fast.
The ripple of exitement moved the throng.
The biker was dead.
The van that had turned in haste was discarded on the side.
No witnesses were found.
Just those who had heared the terrible bang.
A life was gone.
A saddness lingered and hovered over the grassy verge.
There was a feeling of perpetual grief.
Elizabeth Fisher
The Wrong Room - Judith Anne Finetti
The Wedding Reception was going swimmingly
Italians know how to organise a real knees up
And its fun to get acquainted
With friends and relations of the groom who you
Have never met till now
It was a very hot day and the wine was flowing
The four of us were knocking back the prosecco
And enjoying all the scrummy Italian canapés
One more tasty than the next
And we were ravenous by then
And then suddenly it dawned on us all that
We couldn`t remember anyone at all
From the very long wedding mass in the Cathedral earlier
With its original Titian in pride of place by the altar
Yes, we were in the wrong room!
Judith Anne Finetti
Italians know how to organise a real knees up
And its fun to get acquainted
With friends and relations of the groom who you
Have never met till now
It was a very hot day and the wine was flowing
The four of us were knocking back the prosecco
And enjoying all the scrummy Italian canapés
One more tasty than the next
And we were ravenous by then
And then suddenly it dawned on us all that
We couldn`t remember anyone at all
From the very long wedding mass in the Cathedral earlier
With its original Titian in pride of place by the altar
Yes, we were in the wrong room!
Judith Anne Finetti
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
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
When We Parted - Joan Raleigh
When we parted I watched you drive away
into the maelstrom of morning traffic
early on this shimmering summer’s day.
Last night, as each hour raced into the next
you kissed me with a cruel finality
that I, still unaware in the neon glare
of our hotel rendezvous, naively
returned your Judas ‘coup de grace’, to be
proof of my lover’s perspicuity.
Now, in the turbid haze of the station
I see you on the platform, waiting
for a train that will unrelentingly
take you a thousand miles from me.
Pitiless, your case at your feet, pristine
in the grit. A square symbol of evermore.
Joan Raleigh
into the maelstrom of morning traffic
early on this shimmering summer’s day.
Last night, as each hour raced into the next
you kissed me with a cruel finality
that I, still unaware in the neon glare
of our hotel rendezvous, naively
returned your Judas ‘coup de grace’, to be
proof of my lover’s perspicuity.
Now, in the turbid haze of the station
I see you on the platform, waiting
for a train that will unrelentingly
take you a thousand miles from me.
Pitiless, your case at your feet, pristine
in the grit. A square symbol of evermore.
Joan Raleigh
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