Canal Walk
..canal walk with taytay and rayray…..
We are sitting here together
Me, my grandfather and my brother
We’ve been out all day
Walking the canal and snapping away.
The ducks and the swans paddled
The barges and canoes slipped by
There were chirping and buzzing
From the creatures, even in a birds beak was a fly
We’ve had some dinner and some
Ice cream, cake and chicken in between
The only thing left to be said
Is, ”right boys…time for bed.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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High Flier
we're winging our way to foreign lands.
passengers are thinking of soft white sand.
captain Buck is making good time.
He cocks his head, `did you hear that? that's the second time.`
He swears he can hear a honk.
he checks he's stowed his bunk.
With this tailwind they'll do alright
the passengers are enjoying the flight.
`Look out your window, we must each have a screw loose,
isn't that a goose?
for heaven's sake, man, take your foot off the brake,
don't let it overtake! `
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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Wherefore Art Though Julian
INTERNATIONAL INSIDENTS COME AND GO
HIGH PROFILE FIGURES, SOME YOU MAY KNOW
TO FALL FROM GRACE AND BECOME A FUGITIVE
DESPERATION DEMANDS ONE TO CHOOSE CAREFULLY WHERE TO LIVE
FEAR OF PERSECUTION, BEING PASSED FROM HAND TO HAND
SUPPORTERS CHANT..DON'T PACK HIM OFF FROM ENGLAND
LESS AUSPICIOUS ABODE WILL HAVE TO DO
BARICADED IN YOUR NEW HOME, A ROOM OR TWO
FOREIGN STATES AGREE OR NOT BETWEEN THEMSELVES
AS CORRESPONDENCES PROLIFERATE
THIS TIME HE WON'T ESCAPE TO FREEDOM IN A CRATE.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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Sequel..chainsaw..my Despair.
MY SOUL VIEWS MY DESICCATED FRAME
NEVER TO BLOSSOM, SPROUT AND BEAR AGAIN
SUCH A WOUND FROM WHICH I CAN NEVER RECOVER
SOON THE UNDERTAKING AGENTS, MY BODY WILL BE ALL OVER
BREAKING ME DOWN AND RETURNING ME TO THE EARTH
I CAN ONLY HOPE OTHERS WILL GET THE CHANCE TO EXPERIENCE BIRTH
MY LIFE IS ENDED
MY WOUND CAN'T BE MENDED
I'M A DEAD TREE
STILL STANDING FOR ALL TO SEE
I STRUGGLED FOR LIFE IN SPITE OF WHAT THEY DID TO ME
THE FUTURE BODES NO GOOD
WE'LL BE CUT DOWN FOR THE VALUE OF OUR WOOD.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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Hurricane Sandy
Hurricane Sandy on a worldwide tour
Visiting cities and knocking on every door
Visiting hills and dales
In his wake torrential rain and gales
No intention to wreak devastation
Yet he and his family are feared by all nations
Leaving helpless, animals and humans alike
Destroying cars, homes and your precious bike
Sandy follows his sister Katrina
casting ashore boats and ships from the sea and marina
when he departs to places unknown
victims shuffle in disbelief..still in their dressing gown.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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A Kick About
And the battle rages on, flailing sticks and stones
Well aimed kicks and chops meant to break bones
Long standing rivalry, deep set in their marrow
A rout on one side, a regroup and gritted teeth to face a police charge that follow
These factions of poles and Russians
Have no insight of future repercussions
Soaked, running, others cringe from water not from a shower
But from water cannon with its awesome power
These fighters, in front of their peers, have had their fame
They weren't here for the game.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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Longing For Childhood
I saw an elderly man in the supermarket
Moving fast and smoothly, his aim was to get to the end of the aisle
I took a closer look, he had such style
He rode that trolley with such glee
Everyone stood back to see
I wondered what was going through his head
Maybe next moment he was being put to bed
To reminisce of days long gone
Must be as sweet as a good song
As he grins from ear to ear
And the shoppers all clap and cheer
I hoped that trolley could stand the strain
A he didn't look as if he could survive any pain.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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The Village Ram
FOXY JOE, YOU LECHEROUS BEAST
ON THOSE YOUNG GIRLS, YOUR EYES YOU FEAST
YOU CAN'T FORGET YOUR YOUTH
UP TO NOW ONLY YOU KNOW THE TRUTH
OUT AND ABOUT SOWING YOUR SEED
THE TOLL ON YOUR BODY YOU WOULDN'T HEED
ROAMING THE LAND FROM DUSK TILL DAWN
HOW MANY CHILDREN DID YOU SPAWN?
YOU CAN SMILE IN YOUR CLOSING YEARS
TILL YOUR CHEEKS MEET YOUR EARS
YOU WATCH THE KIDS AT PLAY
AND REMEMBER YOU WERE LIKE THEM ONE DAY
RELAX NOW YOU OLD GOAT
AS YOU SWALLOW AND SCRATCH YOUR THROAT
YOU WERE A HELL OF A MAN
YOU RETIRED VILLAGE RAM
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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Not For Me
A text comes in on my phone
Not nice..my mate must be in the dead zone
I'm to watch this violence on the telly
Foes fight until one's entrails spill's from his belly
Such revulsion I feel, to see ultimate violence
No box office thriller imparting suspense
What's this that you can witness
And show no sign of outward distress
Stick to sex and violence of beasts in the jungle
Who with tooth and claw survive with the odd bungle
Or tranquillity on the reef
Thus, a sated soul carries me on
Disregarding the basis of my belief.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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Golden Oldies.
GOLDEN OLDIES ALL OVER THE WORLD SET OUT EACH DAY FOR A MORNING RUN
FOR SOME IT'S LIFE OR DEATH, OTHERS IT'S A BIT OF FUN
ON ONE HAND IT'S TO MILK AND HERD AND FETCH
ON THE OTHER IT'S TO JOG AND RHYTHMICALLY BREATHE AND STRETCH
MILE AFTER MILE THEY GLEAN AND ALL OVER SPREAD
THE OTHERS COUNT AND RESET AND FLEX AND RESUME ON THEIR ELECTRIC BED
COME NIGHT A GATHERING OF GENERATIONS
LAUGHS AND STORIES EVEN FROM THE GURGLING
IN ANOTHER WORLD, THE SILENCE OF LONELINESS
FLICKING OF CHANNELS TILL THE LONESOME SLEEP ENDS THE MADNESS.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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