These poems were all written by Colin Jones in September 2006.

Imagine what he does in a year.

September Soliloquy

September

Tis now my own death I must contemplate,

Not knowing what will be my eventual fate,

My mother and my father, both have gone,

None know of what they did or might have done.

Their purpose was like mine to live then die,

And few will know of me and I ask why,

We live at all, for there seems to be no aim

For nature is a wheel that seeks no gain,

Fed by decay from all those that have died,

Regardless of their dreams and prayers and pride.

Thus to decay surely I will recede,

Perhaps to where my spirit will be freed.

Billions have died, most unknown to me,

Have they gone forever or are they now all free?

02 Sep 06

A VETERANS PRAYER

Let friends meet beyond the mystic veil,

Let love follow those who duly die,

Let those left behind know we did not fail,

As now on freedoms wings we fly.

Let them sing our praises ere we weep,

Tears defined by thoughts of past regret

That dreams disturb our celestial sleep,

With duties left undone, and goals unmet.

Let the great creator soften every soul,

That death does not make glad their hearts,

That we are now in passing through made whole,

As the mysterious spirit from our soul departs.

For we have fought the fight and done our best,

Now we ask for peace and tranquil rest.

02 Sep 06

ONE CAN BUT TRY

How do we bring together those good folk,

Of different views that often provoke,

Debate and argument leading to despair,

With random insults flying everywhere.

Is there an island a sanctuary to behold,

Where from the restraints of censorship love unfolds,

To please the passion of ambitious thought,

By closing the mouths of braggarts by retort,

That offers not the democracy of clear choice,

But rules by dictatorial persuasions of the voice.

Perhaps in seeking a pedestal of ones own,

The minor King who dreams of such a throne,

Ought yet to learn that there is no such place.

For men will state their views and debate their case.

04 Sep 06

THE LIGHT IS ALWAYS PERFECT

The light is always perfect where Angels are made,

And their halos last forever and never will they fade.

Some are taken from the forest still not yet a full-grown tree,

A sapling from a golden glade ever young to be.

When I saw you laughing at the complex mortal world,

You were a beautiful flower with petals still unfurled,

Oh, I knew you would be selected to serve an Angels role,

For I could tell by your smile that you had the right kind of soul.

So now you are in heaven where you can still look down on me,

My cherished little sapling still not yet a full-grown tree.

And you’ll live here inside me from whence your body came,

And until we meet again in deep sadness I’ll remain,

For we who are still mortal; we who must suffer so,

Must await our own calling that through the veil we may go.

05 Sep 06

YOU CANNOT GROW AN APPLE ON AN ORANGE TREE

1

Oh what fool is this, who would censor words,

Who plays the judge to extinguish absurds,

To set himself on a pinnacle high,

Ever reaching for peace; yet the truth denies!

There are fields of nettles and fields of flowers,

And desert plains and places of showers,

And where the flames of the uncouth burn,

There are lessons in destruction for all to learn.

Call it what you will, I call it shame,

That any citizen deride his leader’s name,

Where one has the freedom to vote and elect,

Or make another choice; choose to reject,

Without the censorship of dictatorial hale,

That causes democracy to stumble and fail.

2

The Fox you’ll never turn into a lamb,

Regardless of any such righteous plan,

For neither one cares for the mind of the other,

And differences, censorship never can smother.

The apple will not grow on the orange tree,

And a bigot another’s point never will see,

And shooting the foxes but lemmings the lamb,

Leaving you with your finger stuck in the dam.

Oh where is the common sense in intelligent man!

Why does he not know the truth from a sham!

Why is he so arrogant that he’ll not lower his sword,

Though his valiant charges bring little reward?

For he’ll never allow another the last word …

What is intelligent in that ? It’s actually absurd!

3

Let the primroses grow where primroses grow,

Let the cactus bloom where the desert winds blow,

Let the great seas rage upon the proud shore,

 Never shut your window never shut your door,

For the snowman melts in the Summer Sun,

And the brown leaves fall when the summer is done,

And the brown wolf responds to the vultures call,

while the clever  cat waits for the night to fall.

Around dim lights the schemers will scheme,

While braggart heroes on the podium are seen.

The immigrant goes to where his own kind live,

And those with nothing are the ones who give,

So let life be as life ever will be,

Because you cant grow an apple on an orange tree.

05 Sep 06

INVITE NOT DOGS

Invite not dogs to the chicken coop

If you intend to raise good eggs,

Because all you’ll get is a brownish soup,

Of mashed up arms and legs.

It makes no sense to graze a goat,

Where lots of tigers are,

Nor to go to sea without a boat,

A thousand miles from shore.

You know some folk are always right,

And some are always wrong,

Because they live in pure white light,

Or in darkness they belong.

That’s why the birds are given flight,

And the fishes a billabong

05 Sep 06

THE MAN WITHOUT A SOUL

I remember his heaven an empty hole,

A nothing place without a soul,

Where he may now be lost for good,

No spirit rising from his bone and blood.

Where is he now who vented spite,

On those he deemed were never right.

Who valued life in dollars and cents,

Obesity the consequence.

Is he with the God he did not accept,

Reassessing the level of his intellect,

Cringing with fear lest he be thrown,

Into the nothingness he now bemoans,

That once was where he bragged he’d go,

Because he thought he knew what he did not know?

2

We are such fools we who guess and dream,

Needing something to believe in it would seem,

Even if its belief in none belief, we mean,

To suppress our grief and fear of the unseen,

With something! even egotistical self,

That leads to disregard of our mortal health.

Yes we are foolish we who desire,

To be seen above others searching ever higher,

Stubborn and stupid disregarding the real,

For a day in the sun for the emotion we feel,

When we consider ourselves so righteously pure,

That we seek to dictate our own chosen law,

As though we are exempt from the rain and the snow,

That only, we know, what we really don’t know.

3

So if we do not believe then why do we rave,

Forever pushing the point from birth to the grave,

Trying to convince everybody that we must be  right,

Ridiculing and accusing and being impolite.

And why do believers do exactly the same,

Shouting from the hilltops their creators name,

Fearful of  thoughts that they might be terribly wrong,

Doubts creeping in to rattle their gong.

Does anyone see the reasons why people do this,

Note the insecure passions reaching for bliss

Or the strong forceful denial that illogical faith,

Is the myth of the vain who worship a wraith.

So self centered we are the wider landscape is dim,

As we roll with the boat on an ocean of whim.

07 Sep 06

THE FIRE LIGHTERS

Like Jackals they sit in wait, waiting for the fool,

Who speaks of anything, over which they might drool

For they are the subtle fire lighters sitting in the shade,

The deceitful snide provokers for animosity is their trade.

They are not like one so open that they speak their mind,

For they prowl in the shadows not that easy to find.

They are only seen in the firelight when they need to howl,

When they sense a victory because  no one heard them growl.

They are weak deceptive people, who flatter as they crawl,

To those who hold the power but have no real power at all..

They are educated morons with egos extraordinarily wide,

Who believe in nothing except their own concave pride

Horrid obese people who feed off another’s thoughts,

The germs that always settle in well intended resorts.

THE CENTRE OF THE BOARD

He  will build his fires in our back yards,

Over which he will boil our blood,

And  we shall read the words of bards,

Whom we now know understood.

Tis a  fool who invites his foe to live,

Inside the walls of his own domain,

Lest they speak the tongue and wholly give,

Christian elegance to their name.

The world as it as always been,

Is divided into a religious twain,

The battle for supremacy is an evergreen,

That burns with a perpetual flame.

In the centre of the board rules the great regime,

For ‘tis from there that the creator came.

10 Sep 2006

9/11

Listen to the silence,

Now the smoke is gone,

Listen to the spirits,

Of heroes every one.

Feel their gentle fingers,

Caress and touch your face,

That their memory ever lingers,

When you visit this foul place.

Watch them rebuild the towers,

Brick by burning brick,

Like seeds producing flowers,

Where the nettles grow so thick …

But listen to the silence…

While you choose which flower to pick.

10 Sep 06

A TRIBUTE

1

I cant so far remote know of the pain,

That memory delivers to the grieving heart,

Of turmoil and distress both cruel the same,

That will over a lifetime fade but not depart.

I can but know what my sad eyes do view,

Upon the screen that shows the tragic scene,

Absent yet involved for my mind being true,

Was there in that same place where I’ve not been.

Tis true the devils struck without remorse,

Giving up their lives for reasons based on hate,

For what other reason could man seek this course,

Mind patterned to a fundamental fate …

And where they struck innocent folk lay dead,

And still the cry of pain lives in my head.

2

This was not war this foul religious deed,

Performed my men with minds processed to hate,

This was a crime against our basic seed,

Against the moral values of a peaceful state.

It killed and maimed and shattered hearts and souls,

It turned to rubble two great landmark towers,

Yet as the spirits rose from those red coals,

There formed a stronger faith that bloomed like flowers,

Across the vastness of the United States,

In every heart and soul and limb and brain,

In every man and woman who with love relates,

That they stood tall and strong despite the pain.

God bless America long shall she be free,

To serve the world for as long as a world may be.

13 Sep 06

IF YOU LOOK WITH LOVE

All that is suffered is to test you,

Raise resilience and make you strong,

For the bird that flies into the wind,

To its maker will always belong.

We may well bend under our burdens,

We may suffer great anguish and pain,

But these trials will manifest hope,

That with faith we will always retain.

One must accept the results of ones trauma,

In order to face the problems to solve,

And not fight the demons within us,

For if we do they will never dissolve.

If you look with love at the mirror,

A miracle in you will evolve.

13 Sep 06

LOVE IS EVERYWHERE

Why is there a guard at your gate,

If you are sincere in your belief,

Is it to block all spite and hate,

Or because you fear the thief?

There is no need to guard the truth,

For truth dissolves the lie,

Without a need to provide the proof,

To condone the reason why.

I’ve always thought that good and right,

That surrounds us all like air,

Can change angry voices to polite,

Draw joy out of despair …

For light glows in the darkest night,

And love is everywhere.

13 Sep 06

LET OTHERS WITH LOVE REPLY

All wrongs we have done are paid for,

If you live long enough to know,

And regret is the passion of emptiness,

From which many traumas flow.

Self sorrow is a debilitating sickness,

Requiring positive thinking to cure,

And courage is needed and God,

For without the creator you’re insecure.

But it is you who must make the effort,

For there is help for those who try,

For there is no such thing as failure,

And by trying you’ll soon know why.

Let your thoughts be concerned with others,

And let others with love reply.

13 Sep 06

YOU KNOW

You know, you can never be prepared for war,

For the fear the destruction and the gore,

For the desperation the shock and the trauma,

From a reality you have not experienced before.

It overwhelms you as fear drains away,

To be replaced by a cold chemistry of  calm,

That you feel  you could any person slay,

That no foe  can render you harm.

But when you reach the misty peaks cold  crown,

You must plunge back down over its cliffs to earth,

Each decent  being a misery quite  profound,

That lingers in the recesses of your worth.

In random dream to revisit time after time,

For 'tis in the inner sanctuary where the demons dine.

14 Sep 06

BUT THEN

The creator is always there inside you,

But he does not influence your thought,

Unless you recognize his presence,

And practice what you were taught.

Then he becomes your prop and mentor,

And guides you every day,

And gives you strength and courage,

To help you on your way,

Through turmoil and through hardship,

Through poverty and pain,

And casts away the manacles,

And both the lock and chain ….

But then man comes before us ….

And puts them back again.

14 Sep 06

IF

If I enter then the conflict

 a stranger to the foe,

Perhaps my neutral flag

will a friendship show,

Though I wear not the armor,

that you wear in the field,

Nevertheless I carry weapons

 and a strong invisible shield .

Yet tis true my better nature

is one of tranquil peace,

So perhaps by my membership

your tranquility will increase.

And possibly the sniping

 will permanently cease.

15 Sep 06

WHY THE POET IS SAD

I was asked, “Do you believe what you write”

I replied “Only when I write what I believe”

And they smiled much to my delight,

I laughed saying “and I give all I receive ”.

“So you suffer the retributions,

The anger and the scorn,

From writing things you don’t believe,

Things that may do you harm?”

“yes” I said 'tis the poets lot,

If he seeks to discover truth,

He must look from where his eyes are not,

And seem indifferent and aloof”

“Is that then why the poet is sad ?”

I answered “yes. That is the truth”.

15 Sep 06

THE SOUTHERLY

Close all the deadlights matey,

Make flush every hatch,

Set the highfield lever firm, my boy,

We have a southerly wind to catch.

We’ll be hobby horsing in a head sea,

After boxing the compass hey?,

So we’ll be clinging to the bulwark,

For a good part of the day.

Close reefed will be the sails mate,

The hand log will be retrieved,

And with the anchor in the anchor well,

We’ll be by spray and salt received.

As we ride out the southerly buster,

The bow slapping into heavy seas.

No we are not a ketch,

a cutter or a sloop,

Nor a schooner, nor a brig,

 Barquentine or canoe,

We are not a Brigantine

nor a Wishbone Ketch,

with its stay sail and Jib,

doing  a fair northern stretch.

We are nor a BB,

Nor a CVN

A DE or SS,

A CV nor a DM ,

We are just a small ship,

But not any of them.

The clew couplings are stripped

 the cleats are all lose,

The insert pins have been lost

 from the clevis pins,

The coach bolts are rattling

 the rudder gudgeons are  gone,

Tis but a matter of time

before this southerly wins.

But the pulpit still holds,

And to the wind we’re oblique ,

So if the bulwarks are strong,

We’ll reach the destiny we seek

In our battened down yawl,

That some people think weak .

15 Sep 06

IN THE HANDS OF GOD

There is no joy in being sad

No glee in loss and pain,

Yet perhaps you might be glad,

Without feeling any shame.

For God knows why they had to die,