Scoring an own goal. C. J. Black.

Who’d be a referee?

 

I heard a voice among the crowd

Make a rather derogatory remark

I’ll never understand why he had to shout so loud

It definitely wasn’t done for a lark.

 

He meant to cause a disturbance

Then into the milling crowd disappear

Leading his pursuers a merry dance

While the innocent cowered in fear.

 

Hooligans at football matches

Do they never stop and think

As they hurl abuse at opposition and bottles onto pitches

The mayhem they can cause, as quick as an eye can blink.

 

C. J. Black©β

 

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Reading between the lines. C. J. Black.

There may be a grain of truth?
By C. J. Black.

I feel I’ve reached a crossroads or maybe it’s a stumbling block
Could I be likened to a rudderless boat heading for a coastline rock?
When I re-read what I’ve written to me it reads like trash
As for the boat no matter how many prayers are said – it’s still doomed to crash
I’ve come to the end of my tether, nothing left but to call it a day
Tears are beginning to well up for I have nothing left to say
To some I know this admission will come as a great relief
They will somersault with joy and hope my absence will not be brief
It is really hard when it gets to this stage, to simply walk away
Unless someone gives me a good solid reason why I should stay
Now the words above were written so as to compose a poem
See where it can take you when you allow your mind to roam.

C. J. Black∁β
28/10/2013 12:36:55

A smile is worth a thousand words. C. J. Black

No surrender.

 By C. J. Black.

 

I feel like I’m seizing up, my limbs need to be oiled

But I can’t show my feelings or family plans may be spoiled

So I will suffer on, keeping my lips tightly closed

So as my secret suffering will not be exposed.

 

No I am not what you call playing at being the martyr

Instead I’ll go down the pub have a drink and a chat with “Arthur”

The simple pleasures always bring total relaxation

Life sure is funny at times, sometimes it’s a hard old station.

 

Keep the sunny side out for as long as you are able

You know your way around atrocity – the horse hasn’t yet left the stable

There is life in the old dog yet – let no one tell you different

Chin up and remember – how you feel today has nothing to do with a youth miss-spent.

 

C. J. Black                        

24/10/2013 20:05:58

Honesty is the best policy. C. J. Black.

It takes two to tango.
By C. J. Black.

Let us put this argument to bed once and for all
And reach an agreement before nightfall
I’ve made the first move I can’t do more than that
Come clean, I’ll shake your hand, I’ll even tip my hat.

We have little in common you and I
A compromise is on the cards – try not to be so sly
Stubbornness will win no battle
Nor will back stabbing or tittle tattle.

Whether or which, I’ll sleep soundly in my bed
My conscience is clear, on my part no more is to be said
The ball is now firmly in your court
Apologise if you will – show the world your worth.

C. J. Black∁β
21/10/2013 21:15:35

Fore!! C. J. Black.

Par for the course.
By C. J. Black.

Each time I grace the golf course – I dream of the perfect round
Then I draw back the club to strike the ball – and watch where the divot’s bound
Wise men do not need experience
Just an ounce of common sense
Such things go out the window when you think you’re on a roll
But you’re quickly brought down to earth as the ball rushes by the hole
This mantra was always preached to me
Your game of golf is great therapy
As for my handicap it’s not something about which I could brag
When asked what it is – my honest answer is it’s the clubs I carry in my bag.
C. J. Black∁β
21/10/2013 16:22:39

All my own work. C. J. Black

The Sound of Death.

By C. J. Black.

 

We stood and listened, waiting for that call

Hand in Hand as I recall

Relishing this time alone

Then as one we heard it – OCHON, OCHON.

 

The wailing sound, like that of the Banshee

Travelling on the wind across the briny sea

The elders told us many times it was the call of death

That a relation or dear friend was drawing their last breath.

 

We took little notice of what the elders had to say

Our philosophy was, sure we’ll all pass on one day

That is no consolation for those that are left behind –

The moral of this poem is, always heed your elders and to all you know, be kind.

C. J. Black

10/10/2013 23:07:34

 

A poem for a dreary Wednesday. C. J. Black.

A Two Fingered Salute.

 

I would love to have a cultivated mind –

Then poems I could grow

Poems of some substance –

With rhythm and with flow

Poems that might grab you –

And somehow hold your attention

Poems with a touch of humour –

Some filled with suspension.

But all of that would take a mind that is cultivated

Instead all I seem to do is write poems that get slated

I have no problem with critics once they speak the truth

But denounce I will vehemently those who are uncouth

Ah, a poetic rant, the emitting of some steam

Getting on your high horse, fulfilling that dream

Nothing like it believe me, it really is a thrill

To sit down at the keyboard and give them a Churchill.

 

C. J. Black                        

14/10/2013 17:53:43

I’ll drink to that. C. J. Black.

Show to over 18’s only – contains alcohol.

C. J. Black.

 

Look, watch that leaf floating on the breeze

First signs of autumn time for wheeze and sneeze

There’s really no escaping it, so upon reflection

It’s time to visit your G. P. roll up your sleeve for that injection.

 

It doesn’t help at all if you’re the one that’s squeamish

My advice to you, instead have a couple of pints of Beamish

Nothing like really after enduring an autumnal breeze

It’ll do as good as job on you as the engine topped up with anti-freeze.

 

Not that I’m encouraging you to go on a daily tare

But what’s seldom is wonderful, am I being fair?

Another remedy I am told, equally as good for the body

Is something called a chaser, commonly known as a hot toddy.

 

Before I sign off I must not forget, the drink with the Bishops collar

Sure a Pint O’ Plain is your only man, it is indeed top dollar.

 

C. J. Black                         07/10/2013 14:41:50

 

Can’t say I didn’t try. C. J. Black.

In answer to a question.
For National Poetry Day.

Here’s the challenge – compose a poem without words.
I suggested, this idea was away with the birds.
To think that one could really complete such a task –
Was ludicrous in the extreme to even ask.
The only way was I thought – take an empty page
Attempt to write nothing stage by stage
Taking it carefully line by line
Thus far this challenge was going fine?
There is nothing that cannot be achieved
Once a seed is sown a notion is conceived –
A poem without words is what you’ve got
Amazing what you can conjure up when put on the spot.

C. J. Black∁β
03/10/2013 23:05:10

Word drought. C. J. Black.

Word Drought??

I’m plum out of ideas as to what to write about
You might say I am suffering from the thing they call word drought
Honestly I can’t think of a single thing to say
I’m feeling proper ghastly, like I’m beginning to decay
How am I supposed to write when no ideas come?
I guess that is akin to getting a sound from a hollow drum
But there really is no mileage in this so called self-pity
Get yourself back to the task in hand, back to the nitty gritty
No point in sitting around with a hang dog face
Put something down on the page – you’ll soon pick up the pace
Why not write a piece on not being able to write
Eventually you’ll appear from that darkness and you will see the light
You’ll be surprised, what persistence can achieve
You can once again raise from the ashes – once again believe
It’s not as uncommon as you may think to hit that brick wall
You will write again you know, you will answer that call.

C. J. Black∁β
03/10/2013 15:58:40