Teenage EMOTION on Loves Highway
Loves highway draws teenagers
....... on thru the night
.........Emotion lays heavy
.............in their hearts,
... held in the whirlpool
..........of their own love
‘Too Young’ whispers melodically
.. like ether on the air waves,
.......As Lightning strikes, .
.......thunder accentuates
.........the radio crackle,
Lashing rain draws the elopers
..........closer together,
.....Driving thru the night
.....in love struck earnest,
......The power of love
...envelopes their bodies,
....Nothing will appease
....their quest God sent
Onward over the hill on and on,
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poem by Ken e Hall
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The Perfumed Letter 1916
Dear Sweetheart,
As war drags on in this faraway land,
In this field of strangers that I face bayonets fixed I see,
Mad hatters place us here, like pawns in a deadly chess hand,
I will survive I will stay alive for you, my reason to be.
Counting as much, every grain of sand, every dropp of rain
Add together seem’s the same as days since
My eyes beheld your beauty I miss your being, so grand,
Your lipstick lips embossed inside your perfumed letter,
Kissing me softly, so long and softly.
Your fragrance lifts my body aloft
I embrace your message it shows on my face,
I smell your hair and feel your skin so soft
Breathe your breath; absorb your comfort in my grace.
Remember summer in the fields of hay we played and ran
You pulled daisy petals ‘he loves me, he loves me not’
You cheated at the end and said ‘he loves me twice’
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poem by Ken e Hall
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Queen Mary 2 ... Sydney Harbour 2011
To meet you face to face is akin to meeting Gulliver as a floating giant
Queen Mary 2 magnificent the largest liner ever built, silent, defiant,
Towering over 200 feet and longer than the Eiffel Tower
I wonder the size of the holding bower.
Such beauty, masculine feminine lines of steel in red white and blue
A cruising city proud as you carry your name in ‘Britishness’ true,
We begin the walk on the white inviting gangplank with smiles to greet
To join the 3054 souls already aboard whom all we may not meet,
All wonderfully looked after by 1,253 officers and crew
Thru checkpoints, then to one of the twenty odd lifts shiny as new.
‘Hello my name is Winston I will be looking after your cabin’
He opened the door...Wow..White dressing gowns white slippers, Aladdin’s
Champagne and chocolate awaits, he opens the glass door onto the veranda,
Beautiful Sydney glows as the Queen presents like a poetic Stanza.
We set sail for New Zealand, Japan and China,
A cruise that could not be finer,
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poem by Ken e Hall
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The Bedlem of Beslan
The weird, wired Caliban zombies rape the Russian dignity,
In a children’s Eden their lair is laid.
A Venus trap, as snake’s slither the learning will not begin.
The black masks of death gather children in the gym of no song,
A bairn exclaims twice, ‘We have done no wrong’,
To speak is more fuel for the wrath of the anti-christ,
, The dogs of hate desecrates high on the wall,
A dynamite shape to crucify from a netball hoop.
The school’s outer walls hold at bay young soldiers strong,
Their bullets blocked, useless by images of a children’s throng.
What grim reaper mixed this cocktail of evil sequence,
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poem by Ken e Hall
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Dignity An Animals Dream
Together we can create a kinder world for animals,
All creatures great and small nay,
Why should we look the other way?
We hear the cry to save the whales
Now cry for animals with little tails.
Before little piggy goes to market on his last day
Give lots of freedom and fields of play
For piggies born in battery sheds
Damn it they can’t even turn their heads.
Under the shade of an old gum tree
A little lamb bows his head to pray to thee
Dear god I’m not the black sheep or a snarling beast
I gave gold to this land straight off my back you see
I hear I ‘m going on a sailing trip to the middle east
Packed live in a hold with thousands like me
A wise old cow told me it’s for religious sacrifice
Oh dear god I’m a believer a true believer
I believe, I believe the wise old cow I’m the sacrifice
I know that baa baa black sheep is just a fable and
Know that we are meant for the human table but
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poem by Ken e Hall
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America
Freedoms gravity dressed for the oppressed,
Long sailed to liberty’s harbour,
This land drinks the stream of new lifers,
So many souls on the path of opportune.
Since the constitution, amendments,
Washington, Lincoln’n’Kennedy
Forged hope to turn to reality the
Magnet that bonds a cosmopolitan nation.
.
Doughnuts’n’flapjacks coffee in the morn’,
The Irish policeman paces the square of time,
As the street of walls mints out money
To build route sixty-six to way out west.
The shining star of Hollywood and vine is
Far out shone by Capital hill,
As the plague of apartheid forever sealed
In darkened cage by a humanitarian bill.
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poem by Ken e Hall
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Oh Mine Papa
I know how important the emotional bond between father and child is,
So so important in the child’s journey in life with dad.
To receive the Shaping of personality,
the forming strength in character, the love for family,
all these things including teaching the power of Gods love.
The awesome awesomeness a young boy sees in the huge hands of his dad
and the security he finds when he nestles into them.
His football coach, fishing mentor and most important of all the
tower of strength that stands tall in the home and is not afraid to show all his
love to mum and all his children. Who am I to shout out loud to know all these things?
For a life time they were all in my head.
Let’s just look in my early boyhood diaries—many years ago and see.
“Hello Robin I thought your new bike had a broken chain, ”
“Aw my dad fixed it last night, he can fix anything, ”
Wow he’s his umbrella in the pouring rain
Why do I feel tummy pain?
“Hello Susie under the old oak tree I love your rope swing, ”
“Pa fixed it last night, now with birds I can fly and whistle and sing”
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poem by Ken e Hall
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Mars Daily Planet...universal News 16.6.2010.
In-depth 1st report on the Earth world blue
By Intel Lectronic undercover 6 month report.
Getting used to my human form hiding my alien body
Cannot wait to come home from danger of life here,
Human beings in their present form are ruled by clan wars
And complete dominance of the animal world,
Which they fatten up, kill for food, slice up and sell in pieces.
Their history of looking after their planet is dreadful
Forestation has been stripped for hundreds of years,
Their main way of carbon absorption.
Oil is sucked from inside the earth for transport fuel,
This is their way of polluting the air they breathe
The biggest pollutant higher than their industries is
Methane gas from the seven billion farm animal’s dung.
Their old fashioned method of communication is in
The form of internet computer generated, they are
A long way from mental Telepathy which would stop
Their politicians from telling each other dreadful lies.
Peace on the global front is the atomic bomb
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poem by Ken e Hall
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India’s Jewel
India’s jewel of welcome the Taj Mahal
Drapes its curtains of love in the palace of dreams
Histories monument pleasured afore my eyes
Many seasons have changed my India since I last saw you
Everything is wonderfully the same
As I alight the packed train, the British made toot toot and
The rattle of the wheels moving on brings memories
Of always leaving somewhere...I arrive
The hustle and bustle of Calcutta stands before me
Majestic in its multitude of humanity
Wonderfully weaving the threads of teeming life
Where its wealth lies within the poor who are
Carving out a life of happiness with a smile
They are the real jewel of India
They beat out sorrow
Like the washer woman beating out the dirt of their lives
God I have learnt some wisdom here
The rise of living standards is creeping across the land
The middle class is booming the poor will slowly rise.
The waft of steaming rice and odours of a thousand spices
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poem by Ken e Hall
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A Poor Boy's Bagatelle
My birthday heralds my first decade of life
The air I breathe clings frozen like an insulting knife,
Icing the inside of the old snow white window panes,
The bed bugs do not stir snug under the iron bed frames,
Fattened in the still of the night by the handy supermarket of me,
I awake, my outside world not a single tree.
The winter’s dawn hurls her strength at the gates,
Of the batteries of terrace homes rattling slates,
Felling chimney pots, as the north wind doth blow,
Coating the cobblestones with sleets of snow.
I move the orange box my makeshift bedside table,
To exit the tiny bedroom, fly down the wooden steps quite able,
Still dark I pull the gas lamp chain and with match I strike,
A warm glow brings the only room old fashioned light.
On top a silk red scarf mum’s card sits
She knows my wish my teeth do grit
With no man of house three shillings hard to find,
But poverties life can sometimes be kind,
I pull the scarf off this oblong thing then well,
There it was this old well worn beautiful bagatelle.,
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poem by Ken e Hall
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