The Birth Of A Child

I've been floating around here for quite some time,
They need to release me I've reached my prime,
I'm kicking and punching I will find a way,
In here I'm restricted so I don't want to stay.

Together we've made such a wonderful team,
But my quest for freedom is now so extreme,
Nine months of this is more than devotion,
But suddenly I hear lots of commotion.

What is going on I'm feeling much hotter,
The strange thing is I'm no longer in water,
This feeling is intense I need to get out,
From outside my confinement I hear a shout.

Breathe deeper they're saying you're almost there,
Who are they talking to this just isn't fair,
Just then I see what I think is a light,
The feeling though frightening really does excite.

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poem by Bri Mar
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There Are No Pockets In A Shroud

Money makes the world go round,
I wonder who said that,
It must have been a billionaire,
A grass roots spoiled brat.

They take their lead from politicians,
Do as I say Not as I do,
They write how to fiddle editions,
As more funds they must accrue.

The rich are really all the same,
Whether they act or if they sing,
They'll always preach to you and me,
Money isn't everything.

Don't you find it really strange,
It's actually quite funny,
That the very people who make this claim,
Have all got loads of money.

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poem by Bri Mar
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It's All Future Life We Betray

For our children will there be a tomorrow,
That's our responsibility now,
Are we leaving them with heartbreak and sorrow?
Will it be misery on them we endow?

Are we doing enough to ensure a good life?
For all of our future generations,
Or will we leave them with nothing but strife,
All caused by our present creations.

Nuclear power and our weapons of woe,
Are now getting out of control,
Mass destruction created wherever we go,
We are tearing out our Earths soul.

Our resources on Earth are dwindling fast,
As each second another life is born,
Less to go round means before time has passed,
We leave someone else feeling forlorn.

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poem by Bri Mar
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Without A Wok We Can't Have Our Stir Fry

My children asked me to go for a walk,
In unison we stared at each other,
The look on my face was of total shock,
So they ran off to see their Mother.

They said they were sorry but they'd try to cope,
Beans on toast would be fine,
For other nutrition there's plenty of scope,
There's so much more on which we can dine.

What in Gods name were they talking about,
I then told them to put on their shoes,
I could last for miles when I was a scout,
That comment didn't seem to amuse.

Have you no sympathy Dad you're very cruel,
You'll have our Mother in tears,
The way you're behaving is so un-cool?
I thought all is not what it appears.

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poem by Bri Mar
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There's Solace In Verse

A song's but a way of telling a story,
It can be about love even sadness or glory,
Whatever the lyrics you can guarantee,
By singing those words you can set yourself free.

While listening to music be it night or day,
The song takes you over you get carried away
Before you know it you are singing along,
You become that person, the singer of that song.

When you're writing the lyrics ensure they're kept terse,
For that's when you will find,
‘' There's Solace In Verse ''

That's the wonder of music regardless of type,
It makes you feel good you believe all the hype,
A song can lift you when you're feeling grief,
If you need cheering up it will bring you relief.

That's the wonder of music for like it or not,

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poem by Bri Mar
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You Must If You Are To Evolve

As I look at the battlefields from my sanctuary above,
I must ask the question why,
Shouldn't life be all about peace and love,
Why do so many need die.

It's a fact it has happened for thousands of years,
It would seem that humans love war,
Yet we know it's a fact it will all end in tears,
Both sides will then ask, what for.

Was there ever a reason to murder and maim,
Can anyone give justification,
Why innocents need die while the victors will claim,
It was done for God and their nation.

In democracies it's claimed the people decide,
But in war that's strictly not true,
The electorate, politicians will override,
It is they who decide not you.

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poem by Bri Mar
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My Way

My Dad said son I'll teach you to drive,
Very soon on the road you'll thrive,
Driving will make you come alive,
Just listen to what I have to say.

Out we went he said to learn,
I hope you won't give me concern,
My total respect you'll have to earn,
I will not lead you astray.

Bad habits will not be tolerated,
Good ones will be celebrated,
Mistakes you make will be berated,
That's the message to you I convey.

Off I travelled on my first trip,
That's when he made his first quip,
Before long he was giving me lip,
He was filling me with dismay.

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poem by Bri Mar
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You Remained A Coward Till The End

You claim you're hunting but you're killing for fun,
Hunted animals are rarely eaten,
I have no chance against the force of a gun,
You know you have me beaten.

When you've killed me you'll stand over me proud,
Arrogant is the word I prefer,
Butchering me this way should not be allowed,
With no weapons you wouldn't dare.

If you think you're so brave come to my land,
But leave all your weapons behind,
Use your God given skills with nothing underhand,
Then we'll see how your species is defined.

To fight one on one which you claim is fair,
Is a subject on which we won't disagree?
With no weapons allowed we can then prepare,
To find out who the victor will be?

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poem by Bri Mar
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You'll Reach The Peak Of That Literary Hill

Who is to say which poetry is best?
How can it possibly be defined?
Which type is superior when put to the test?
All variations are surely entwined.

Strong words written stand the test of time,
Whether in poetry or in a good song,
Some will just flow whereas others will rhyme,
That doesn't mean either is wrong.

You may hate the words or the rhythm of a tune,
The content will still make you think,
Is the writer a genius or perhaps a buffoon?
With either there's always a link.

Some tell a story just like a book,
The written word can play games with your heart,
When you read one line common sense is forsook,
From that poem you don't want to depart.

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poem by Bri Mar
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The Birthday Of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Once again Christmas is here,
Let's have a celebration,
Forget the debts and have no fear,
It will fill you with such elation.

Spending money you haven't got,
Up to your eyeballs in debt,
What you don't need can and will be bought,
Just for now there's no need to fret.

When Christmas day has come and gone,
As the presents lie scattered and broken,
The thought of the bill will finally dawn,
But for now it will remain unspoken.

As final demands dropp through your door,
You bury your head in the sand,
Opening the letters is too much of a chore,
The stress then gets out of hand.

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poem by Bri Mar
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