Back on Terra Firma#2 C. J. Black.

A Madeiran thought #2

Sitting here still people watching10 floors above the earth –
Look there’s a seldom seen specimen – a lady in a skirt.

All the other sunbeds are taken up by ladies in bikinis
All shapes and sizes – big and teeny weenies.

A sight for sore eyes it must be said –
Thank you whoever you are for inventing the sunbed.

While I am basking in the sunshine out on the patio
Young and old splash about in the swimming pool below.

I tell you my Jack Daniels sitting neatly by my elbow in the shade
Will not be long of this world until I have another made.

For what use is an empty glass when it should be at all times half full
And the longer it stays that way – the more I will write bull!!

C. J. Black∁β
16th September 2013.

A forever memory. C. J. Black.

A forever memory.


In secret we agreed to meet

After long years apart, I wondered, how would we greet?

For what seemed like an eternity we stood face to face

We then fell into each other’s warm embrace.


Suddenly, there were floods of salty tears

They in turn washed away all our hidden fears

Through the soft rain we walked, hand in hand

Gently touching each other’s wedding bands.


It was many years since we parted

Both of us now broken hearted

Our meeting would be but brief

One departed, the others sorrow was beyond belief.


C. J. Black                        


Back on Terra Firma – C. J. Black.

A Madeiran thought.


I just had a “brainwave” while on holiday relaxing

Nothing too strenuous though, nothing too taxing

Sitting here taking in the sights enjoying my steak on the stone

I thought why not write a few lines – as it’s something to which your prone

Sitting here 10 floors up watching the world go by

Not a breeze, not a cloud but plenty of blue sky

Down on the Marina a cruise ship is about to dock

All on board eagerly waiting to disembark and take stock

Eager beavers you might say land “lubbers” one and all

Leaving their sea legs in their cabins hoping they can recall –

How to walk on dry land after many days at sea

Not a holiday I’d wish to take I’d much rather be –

Sitting off people watching making decisions on my own

And maybe it would inspire me to attempt to write a poem.


C. J. Black                        

27/09/2013 20:44:07


Not quite a masterpiece!! C. J. Black.

Nice and easel(y) does it.

What really made the Mona Lisa smile?
This is a subject that has perplexed me for quite a while
When de Vinci took his brush in hand
Had he this vision already planned?

Also tell me how was Shakespeare so prolific?
Did he always set out with thoughts specific?
Is he as much read today as he was heretofore?
Or do this present generation consider him a total bore?

Lennon, McCartney, Jagger, Cohen, Dylan et al
The modern day poets whose words millions can recall
Wordsmiths, who paint pictures for the modern age
In which golden oldies I know of continue to engage.

Major artists with a brush and quill
Continue to paint, musical pictures and expose a perfect still
There will always be a market for the classic painting I propose
And as I sit here writing this, I’m wishing a classic pop song I could compose.

Alas poor Yoric this time, that is not to be
But to write a poem – now there is a possibility
My writing, will never make me a millionaire
But once I’m rich in words do I really care?

I will always try to paint a picture interwoven with such words –
That someone someday might just compare them to that of the Bards.

C. J. Black∁β
12/09/2013 17:00:46

The Man in Black. C. J. Black.

Johnny Cash. 1932 – 2003. C. J. Black.

At Dublin’s Olympia Theatre in November ’88 he appeared – that Country Music Sage
It was a privilege to be there when he graced that stage.

Along with his band of troubadours and that guitar slung across his back
He was adored by one and all – John R. Cash – The Man in Black.

I guess each time he stood centre stage or entered into a room
His audience would wait with baited breath for that sound – BOOM CHICKA BOOM.

Then when that sound of silence would be filled with that awesome voice
His audience would sit enthralled, regardless of his song choice.

A man of enormous stature who was in no way brash
Like us all he had his sceptics, that man called Johnny Cash.

But no matter what your culture, religion or your creed
The Man in Black had a word for all whether in jail or just in need.
The Cash – Carter combination that blossomed through the years
Ended on a sad day in May ’03 amid sorrow and bitter tears.

But from that fruitful union there did blossom forth
Another talented generation to show the world their worth.

Then it came, that September day, he passed onto a greater stage
Johnny Cash the Man in Black, that man of classic vintage.

He’s passed over now and will not be back – for services rendered we give thanks, that he came and stood among us –

That man of many talents – Johnny Cash – The Man in Black.

C. J. Black∁β
September 2003.

Tuesday 11th September 2001 – C. J. Black. 11/9/13.

Tuesday 11th September 2001

The Day the world changed. C. J. Black


Buildings ruptured, planes nosedive

Friends and comrades burn alive.


Mobile call to the one you love

From thousands of feet high above –


We’ve been hi-jacked we are doomed to die

With these words a last goodbye.


It makes one want to shed a tear

When one thinks of the dreaded fear –


The torture that was gone through

By those on board passengers and crew.


One really cannot comprehend

The sheer torture gone through as they met their end.


One also wonders what there is to gain

By the infliction of such pain?


When one sees the terror etched on every face

At the meaningless destruction that has taken place.


As the search for survivors is scaled down

Will the final death toll ever be known?


Where once the twin towers proudly stood

It is suggested that they should –


Erect a monument to those who died

As a solace for those who cried.


On it their names engrave

A memorial – not a grave.


In times of conflict not even the innocent survive.


C.J. Black, First published 2001 Poetry Today ISBN 1 86226 609 3





Triplets anyone? #A Weekly Offering. (14) C. J. Black.

The less said the better.
Poem (1) of (3). By C. J. Black.

I am not going to philosophise but these few lines I’ll give –
The tragedy of life is not death but what we let die inside us while we live.

If someone does you an injustice don’t condemn them try to forgive
Always try and leave something positive behind – it is better to give than to receive.

Your life is a journey and only you have the map
Following it carefully, you can be guaranteed to escape falling into the proverbial trap.

Keeping your friends close and your enemies closer
Hopefully will lead you away from the brink of disaster.

What engages one to write at times in such a fashion?
It frightens me to dwell on a subject with such passion.

So away from my desk I go to try and clear my head
Returning later to peruse – deciding then I have enough said.

In the words of —

What are words but the voice of the heart?
What a way for poem to start
No I am not really that clever for those words to relay
These really are the words that Confucius say.

But really what a way for a poem to start
So I thought with these words I would try and look real smart
Then I went back and re-read and thought are you for real
That you could steal a line like that – instead to you Confucius I kneel.

So back to the drawing board to try and fashion a poetic line
That perhaps someone someday may quote, and tell the world it’s mine
Now wouldn’t that be something else to be up there with Confucius?
But I’m old enough to realise that will never happen, no argument from me – there is no more to discuss.

Are you a man or a?

Promise you won’t laugh when I explain why I have failed
I set out to write a poem but then I got derailed
Something happened quite suddenly I was instantly distracted
I was shocked I must admit to the way that I reacted.

Sitting at my writing desk I was deep in thought
When out of the corner of my eye I spotted a little mouse
I sat frozen to the spot knowing that I ought –
Use the slowly, slowly catches monkey effect to get it out of the house.

But instead I panicked and started to flail my arms about
Stood up on the table and began to scream and shout
My wife arrived in the nick of time – said just leave this to me
One fell swoop with the sweeping brush and that mouse ceased to be.
C. J. Black∁β
09/09/2013 14:28:27

Of the same persuasion? – C. J. Black 04/09/13.

Of the same persuasion?

What more do I have to do
To try and convince you
That you’re no longer needed in my life?
The last thing I want is for you to be my wife.

You have ruined my reputation
I have had to move, change my location
My name is now spoken like I committed some heinous crime
While you pump yourself up – Flash a smile that says aren’t I sublime.

Little do they know of your evil ways?
How your absurd remarks about me, left me in an absolute daze
I have had it up to here, I’m tired of this tit for tat
I look sideways at you and you’re ready for another spat.

Continue as you’re going and you’ll be your only friend
It will be far too late then to turn back the clock or to send –
Distress signals, hoping someone somewhere on you will take some pity
Some poor sucker may just give you a shoulder to cry on in some far off city.

Now I have a question to you I’d like to pose
As I get down on one knee too propose
Will you still marry me and become my darling wife? –
I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last person on earth-
Enjoy your afterlife – BANG.

C. J. Black∁β 31/08/2013 21:41:56

# A Weekly Offering. (13) C. J. Black.

How to write a rubbish poem in one easy lesson.

It’s all about discipline or so I have been told
I’m speaking of this writing lark once it gets a hold
It helps relax the body is sure to put you in good mood
Keeps you alert, energises you, for the brain it is good food?

Having to continuously think of the next word in sequence
Helps when writing dialogue for the reader that makes sense?
Many a time I write what I consider to be a finished piece
But after several re-reads it’s put away as tensions within increase.

For it really makes no sense at all what I’m trying to compose
Will I ever get it right? Not this time I propose
See what happens when you lack concentration and allow your mind to roam
You end up with a mish mash instead of a credible poem.

C. J. Black∁β 01/09/2013 00:54:22