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Collected Poems

Page 1

by James Bickle


Contents

  Part One

  The Ego

  The Manager

  Those Who Win

  Seven Billion

  Why Does God Allow Suffering

  Local Countryside

  New Year

  Part Two

  Cool

  Escapism

  You’re Not Allowed

  Social Housing

  Christmas Day

  The Entrepreneur

  Part Three

  A Week In The Life

  The Conversation

  Fairground Day

  Requiem

  World War 2 Pilot

  Resident Patient

  Part Four

  The Garden

  Winter Walk

  Decisions

  Inner Conflict

  Earth

  Heaven

  Part One

  The Ego

   

  You can’t see it

  Neither can you touch it

  Some claim it doesn’t exist

  Let’s admit it though

  Its power is hard to resist

  It wants to be your master

  Let it and stack up disaster

  It likes to be in charge

  To shoulder barge

  It wants to save face

  So you give in and compose lies

  They're so hard to disguise

  Lies, which are bold

  Because you refuse to be told

  Chiefly it seeks fame

  Secretly, it wants the rest to be lame

  It listens to tales of others success

  And goes quiet

   

  It likes to disagree

  And it’s easily offended

  But hard to get mended

  Egos take great skill to manage

   

  To unravel - be aware

  Of your ego, how it ticks

  Don’t let it play its dirty tricks

  Make the ego work for good

  As ultimately, it should

  The Manager

  Making up a statement

  For workers we just don’t rate

  Colluding with the others

  But don’t tell my mother

  Everything runs by the book today

  Until the seniors go back away

  You wheeled out the charm

  To hide the certain harm

  Cutting back the staff

  Whilst having a little laugh

  Trimming the pay packets

  Don’t tell me, I know it’s a racket

  I won’t ever get caught

  In my world everyone can be bought

  Workers off with stress

  We will have to make do with less

  Area says the books are looking great

  So how dare you all berate

  What I’m doing can’t be fraud

  Because business is fantastic

  Those who win

   

  How do people win?

  In the world around us

  The winners do what’s right

  And run away from wrong

  They do well and get rich

  Yet are generous with it

  Keeping on top of pride

  They subdue and master anger

  And refuse to give in to fear

  Unjust guilt doesn't hurt them

  Jealousy is forbidden to taunt

  They don’t laze through time

  Nor gorge beyond being full

  Or want no end and more

  Those in pursuit of victory 

  Are reaching for all of this

  They're productive people

  Making sure they rest too

  What they build is worthwhile

  They’re gaining great things

  And they've grasped this life

  The mixture of good and bad

  They didn't choose what's easy

  But they chose what’s true

  They forgive their enemies

  Yet justice is dear to them

  Their lives are blessed now

  And going to be even better 

  Seven Billion

  Out there is a sea of faceless people

  Swelled up to seven billion they say 

  Do I especially want to or need to 

  Affect and impact a difference?

  Seven million poets just on one site

  That’s just part of the Web’s might

  People gathering and huddling for reviews

  Quietly desperate not to lose

  Spilling into the doctors surgery

  Doubtless seventy seven people a day

  The doctors gab curt and tired

  Wishing your three minutes away

  Seven tree surgeons in your town

  You love the job but the competition

  So insipid, it forces you down

  No alternative, it’s what you know

  So you keep to the mission

  This face dazzles in the crowd

  He’s a genius, I just can’t keep up

  Is it even worth attempting?

  You search here and there

  For scraps of comfort and morale

  Your life and work has so much value

  Whether you have one talent or ten

  We’re all so worthwhile, be you 

  The first or the seventh billionth

  Why does God allow suffering

   

  Why does God allow suffering?

  Principally is what people ask

  What kind of god, would sit back

  And allow these bombs to blast

  My family got unfairly robbed

  The innocent get horribly mobbed

  It’s just not at all damn right

  That God just seems to sit tight

  There’s no absolute answer

  We will have to wait and see

  Why God set things up in a way

  That we don’t always agree

  Why do people become ill? 

  Isn’t life supposed to be amazing?

  Why is this so destabilising?

  What can you or I really advise

  Except to note some positive things

  Are forged from suffering 

  Great discipline and compassion

  Strength and sincere character

  Knowledge and opened minds

  Natural disasters, the earthquakes?

  Is it death Gods trying to make?

  Earthly systems briefly work in mortal motion

  As the animals, fragile human flesh ebbs and flows

  But unique to the human is an eternal soul

  Gods perspective, our souls the priceless goal

  It’s worth suggesting some thoughts

  Instead of closing our minds

  And refusing to even consider 

  That our God could be kind

  Humans were given absolute choice

  They can help or hurt with their voice

  Choice whether to rescue the poor

  Or barricade behind your door

  If God intervened to stop every sin

  Project humanity would lose its value

  Created machines would have been fake

  Rather He reasons let the good and the evil 

  Briefly decide which choices they make

  But rest assured the flesh life is short

  And the eternal life is long

  And hasn’t God made us promises

  That He will mend all that’s broken

  So maybe it's just conceivable 

  God does not allow suffering at all

  Local Countryside

  Out there almost every single day

  We were kids playing in the
hay

  Someone set light to the stubble

  Man, we were so in big trouble

  All summer cricket in Pondside rec

  So seriously we took it for young ones

  Special stumps came from the wood lathe

  The cricket square mown and painted

  Picked and your total best you gave

  Camping out was so simple back then

  Nothing about permission or planning

  Cider we’d gained and trying a cigarette

  Fire, sausages and blackened bread

  Then the stars and nature's glory

  Conversations of goodness knows what

  Oxygen and air and feeling so well

  Back then little trouble to tell

  New Year

  Excused and removed

  From what's real

  You fly - Oh my

  1000 feet in the sky

  Freak out and cop out

  At pops serving of fun

  Leveled and peaceful

  Cozy and numb

  Jump up and barrier up

  Next year? No fear!

  Improve and disprove

  The despicable and diabolical

  Critics of thy truth 

  Driven back, vanquished

  They stumble and struggle

  Coz they're empty oh 

  Yes and bounded to fail

  Hangovers and insincere regrets

  Sobered and forced to step into

  The survival of mine and your new year

   

   

   

   

   

  Part Two

  Cool

   

  It’s near the top of the pile

  Words on labels help

  Similar cloth, can be easier

  Reserved, but just won't do

   

  Forbidden works of art

  It won’t let people even start 

  Smoke will make you happy

  Is one of its illusions

  It borrows and buys cars

  Loans that are hard to mend

  And doesn't it feel great

  When its briefly gained

   

  Instantly refusing a good job

  Cos it baulked and retched

  Dedication to this golden calf

  Which picks and chooses paths

   

  This malady can sabotage

  People's calm and charm

  Is it worth paying these prices?

  To ensure I look cool

  Escapism

  37 times I played that social media clip

  It blotted and blocked the nagging drip 

  In truth the list of tasks within grasp

  But its trepidation, waiting and fear

  That drives to fit on that comedic mask

  The one for all easy fix in a bottle

  With its fleeting, empty guarantees

  It recruits new cannon fodder daily

  Been tricked and it spits out half lives

  Of course it was fake escape

  And more because ‘it’s the way I work’ 

  Justifying and enabling pain creating wrongs

  Others sickened agreement makes it easier 

  Rudimentary escapist philosophy then

  That if bought into damages so long

  Never saying here to kill the joy

  By all means some wine and song

  But if you recognise real and hear

  Shake off the escapism with a courageous roar

  So then honestly and genuinely fixed

  Then escapisms preposterous gnaw, no more

  You're not allowed

   

  You’re not allowed to be too negative

  Even if the facts warrant such as

  Neither should you be too excited 

  Or jump up overly delighted

  You can’t claim welfare, so what if

  There’s no work or land access

  Never mind if you’re old or sick

  Yes, no experts here thanks

  It’s expressly forbidden to talk about yourself

  Even if, it’s life and you’re just saying

  I demand you adopt a plastic persona

  Supposed to be popular see

   

  Others frown at you 

  Yet break their own unwritten social rules

  Flee from ‘you’re not allowed’ as

  It’s folly that will hurt and restrict you

  Determine the daft but learn from the wise

  And strike out in the world unafraid

  Carving out your success

  And never being put off by those

  Screaming at you, to achieve failure

  Social housing

   

  Pregnant women smoking

  Single dads joking

  Claimants preferring working

  Signed off sick hurting

   

  Walking by the communal

  But keeping the smiles frugal

  Status gained any which way

  Dogs keeping the pain away

  You might get run over by a bus tomorrow

  So stop preserving yourself in sorrow

  Tattoos and baccy

  Booze and feeling happy

   

  Poor diet

  But so what because life’s a riot

  You’ve got brains

  But pride is pulling your reins

   

  Some of us playing it straight

  Boy did they make us wait

  Private housing can’t be reached

  Should someone be impeached?

  Christmas Day

  Bubbling up with elation

  Bounding in for the reunion

  Comforted for the duration

  The pain of the separation

  Swept away for the moment

   

  Quarrels and shouting

  Old scores uncorked

  The same battles re fought

  Slumped back, was over keen

  Green, bloated and mean

   

  Money found any which way

  Presents simply must be bought

  A surge of effort for a special time

  The best goods gathered up

  Feast of feasts for King of Kings

   

  Young creeping down the stairs

  Toys fantastic and expectations met

  Gorging orange and chocolate

  Amongst the glitz and gild

  Troubles on holiday, happy moods

   

  Wise were called by starlight

  Bringing gifts to Bethlehem

  The first Christmas, Christ was born

  Heralding rescue and peace

  And He is like refiners fire

  The Entrepreneur

   

  Dormant ambition stirred

  Easy payouts are deferred

  Hope and courage adopted

  Up the ladder of knowledge

  Lost rungs negotiated

   

  It’s time and you’re ready

  You consider some heavy loans

  But inside your sensibleness groans

  People scoff, wince and grimace

  Just who do you think you are?

   

  Others are thoughtful and positive

  Catching the vision and intent

  You hold the course resolute

  An independent business release

  Low budget but live and real

   

  Walking and then running

  You harvest some coin

  Job satisfaction set to maximum

  Factory room 101 in distant past

  Conventions smashed and gone

  You did it!

   

   

   

   

   

  Part Three

  A we
ek in the life

   

  Five pm forecast predicts a frost

  So blanket on Fords windscreen

  Arrived at work the usual 11 mins early

  Free coffee and conservatory chit chat

  I always heads down at 3 minutes to

  A months frozen bread and milk

  Defrosted at exacting and right moments

  The homemade beers 78% cheaper

  Every second Sunday, lunch guests

  Rehearsed jokes and visitors book

   

  Laminated camping list, same pitch

  We’ve got friends there you see

  Oh and how the oak tree shades you

  Always books the same two weeks

  If my other half can get em too

   

  Bleach and clean Mondays

  Mother on rotating Wednesdays

  So we tend to stay in Thursdays

  Radio Times with big circles

  Columbo, Poirot and Jim Bergerac

   

  Can call this boring or maybe smart?

  Don’t let me laugh or poke fun

  Cos these things I often do

  Now I too, have the efficiency

  Of the middle aged

  The Conversation

   

  The Angel:

  “May the Lord arrest you

  Hark, halt, evil’s damage”

   

  The Demon:

  “Hiss and spit, you really think I care?

  I will squash and suffocate

  Not relinquish, but relish in hate”

   

  The Angel:

  “Instructions He has given me

  Violate my people at your peril

  Says Him endless of days”

   

  The Demon:

  “I shall continue to bear false witness

  You tell that to His Highness

  I will keep destroying His people

  Cheating and robbing the vulnerable

  Opportunistic on the naive”

   

  The Angel:

  “Those are your words unholy one

  Yet His pure paradise shall return”

   

  The Demon:

  “Paradise indeed

  I will stop his people being freed”

  The Angel:

  “He can and will overpower you

  Those decreed, shall indeed be free

  Ultimately, the infernal will be burnt

  So roam loosed for an age

  Fallen servant of Yahweh

  But punishment will befall you”

   

  The Demon:

  “Mention not my inevitable fate

  For I dread that hellish date”

  Fairground Day

   

  A rumour going round school

  The fairs due in town

  A high counsel of children

 

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