Duke

Give up your ill-gotten gain
kings queens lords and dukes
of lands where forests once thrived
move out move on leave

If your palaces, castles
and manors decay
crumble down into the ground
I care not one jot

Ivy creep over all walls
let the roof fall in
dust and cobwebs catch the light
chandelier dull

“An ancestral general
he helped win a war
blood spilt, to secure for good
eternal reward”

No Duke, the battles were won
but not in our name
your birthright is a falsehood
entitlement gone

We’ll have the trees back growing
fish swimming the lakes
sheep and cattle grazing free
families return

A new age, heard it before?
nothing will change so you say
not now nor ever
well, don’t be so sure

We believe, not in your Gods
not your politics
but in people and friendship
and our planet Earth

And you Duke, well what of you?
you will need a job
to afford the rent each month
on a fair semi

Actually earn your wages
see what you can do
welcome to society
come sit next to me

A Whole Lot of Rubbish Too

I looked through the albums
of the Beatles recently,
studied track listings
and listened
to unfamiliar tunes.

Most of the little known songs
are pretty seriously
mediocre, in comparison
to the ones known well.

It’s true of the Stones too,
when you look.
Bowie and ABBA.

In actual fact,
it’s true of nearly every band
or performer.
Or writer, poet, painter, actor,
ever.

There’s a whole lot more rubbish
out there they did,
than the good stuff.

This probably comes as no surprise
to you.

Who the Hell is a “Morning Person”?

Who the hell is a “morning person”?
Is it a trait passed down the line
through the genes?
They who wake up,
look fresh,
rejuvenated,
smiling.
Heavenly.

Me,
A character from folklore,
mythology.
Twisted,
caught up –
bound in the bedclothes,
struggling free.
My eyes hurt by the light,
can’t read the time,
don’t know if I’m late or early.

Sway into walls
take rest against door frames,
battle my way to the bathroom –
an epic journey.

Stumble down the stairs.
Hate, that I didn’t clean the coffee pot
the day before.
Curse.
Wash, rinse, prepare.
Stand and wait.

As soon as the caffeine hits,
life begins to slowly seep back.
A treatment of the symptom,
but not the cause.
Could I change?

What would I have to do
to become a “morning person”,
rather than the “morning person
from Hell”
I am.