Comrades

You arrived, green, wide eyed
To fill the boots of a fallen comrade
There was panic in your eye
And the smell of one soon to die

You proved yourself at my side
In firefights of dusty suicide
I covered you, you covered me as well
I watched you grow a shell

Then you told me the tale of a previous war
Showed me the scars of a previous tour
And after the battle was stilled
You looked at the dead, grunted and said
On day one I thought you'd get us both killed

Leopard Hunt

The leopard maimed my baby in the night

He's in the corner now - but there's no shame just fight

"A leopard's what I am

I feed myself on man

Don't dare to ask what I have done

When I maim a little one"

He looked me in the eye

And spat it in my face

Then turned tail and ran

Leaving not a trace

Good brothers hear my cry

Tomorrow night your child may die

Good brothers rise up in the night

Scour the forest by torch-light

Run the vermin to his lair

Together let us kill him there

Raise the hue, shout the cry

Before day breaks the beast must die

Such was my resolve

As I slipped into the night

Be it dark - be it cold

I'll not give up the fight

But track the worm to his lair

And finally confront him there

And having forced a way within

Emerge with a bloody leopard skin

It Comes to This

Limping down the corridor

Hiding in the doorway

Pinned behind his pawns

The White King stands at bay

Conscience stained by a Queen sacrifice

Promote a fresh one – that would be nice

Now the knight and bishop – red

One by one kill white pawns dead

Far from the throne horses cried

And the White Knights fell and died

All hope is gone but the king plays on

Propelled by bitter pride

Praying for relief

Fighting for a draw

Lie down old man

What are you fighting for? 

You thought yourself a master

You still believe the lie

Now you shuffle the wood around

Afraid, afraid to die

Adieu

'Bulle de sabon' riding the air

Refractions of gold and mauve

'Ballon en latex' bounce and 'couler'

Pat pat – shock, fear, dissappointment, tears

Shell of the egg - 'Coquille d'oef'

Smooth and 'parfait', tan-speckled

No chick within nor 'dejeuner'

Slime and a sulphur smell in the air

'Noyau de noix' liberated from

A brown wrinkled shell like a stone

A shrivelled dry black bitter thing

An aftertaste just like quinine

Soapmist in the air

Nut shells and filth down there

False and hollow - 'Vede ve faux'

Nauseated I bid you to go

I do not have the words

To tell you what I know

Wait while I find the words and then

I will not need them again

Winter Solstice

The shortest day
A world turned away
Sun rising unseen
Smothered by cloud

Grey gloom at midday
Red lights in the driveway
Mist cloaking evergreen
A funeral shroud