It’s Not Sustainable – A Poem

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

12th September 2021

Just dry hot earth, parched and cracked by heat

No wheat, no maize, no barley, no beet

The world, it has changed, and not for the best

There’s just not enough food to feed all the rest.

Flooded plains and the crops are all washed away

So I’m sorry, there’s no food for you here today

Just crying the of babies and the weeping of mothers

There’s just not enough food to feed all the others

It’s not our fault, just blame global warming

It just crept up upon us without any warning

Nobody told us, or we just didn’t listen

Maybe the news has just made us hard bitten

But here in the West,

we all do our best

We’re all okay here,

so there’s no need to fear

We might send some aid,

once we get paid

For the guns we sell

to your leaders from hell

How dare you suggest that we do not care

It’s not us pumping gases up into the air

It’s the others you see, so don’t you blame me

It’s not my insecticide that killed the last bee

Anyway, global warming, it may not be so true

If it is, it’s not me, but you, you, and you

So don’t point the finger at me as you die

Don’t say it was me because that’s just a lie

What do you mean there’s no food without pollination?

But I live in the west, in a very rich nation

Something has to be done and it has to be now!

What do you mean it’s too late? We’ll all die anyhow.

©Joseph R Mason 2021

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A Journey – A Poem

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3rd September 2021

Life’s journey for some just plods along,

for others, it’s a riot!

Some rather not have too much fun,

they like it rather quiet.

Wherever life’s journey takes you,

be sure to understand,

The dealer does not hold the cards,

and there’s aces in your hand.

That deal of fate does not exist,

you make your own luck here.

So, voyage on with hope and faith,

there’s nothing here to fear.

Journey with your head held high,

with purpose in your stride,

You’re unique and in God’s image,

there’s nothing here to hide.

So, straight, or gay, or black, or white,

step out with self-respect.

With pride, affection, with sorrow and joy,

for with love, we can connect.

Love, God’s great commandment,

love your neighbour as yourself.

Respect each one for who they are,

think of others, not of self.

© Joseph Mason 2021

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Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Journey – Sept. 2, 2021 – Eugi’s Causerie (amanpan.com)

Purple Moon – A Poem

Image from Clapway.com

28th August 2021

The modern-day definition of a Blue Moon is when there are 2 Full Moons in one month. A Full Moon occurs roughly every 29.5 days and on the rare occasion when the Full Moon falls at the very beginning of a month there is a good chance a Blue Moon will occur at the end of the month. A purple moon is the special name given to the second full moon of a 30-day month, especially in April. Generally, second full moon in a month is called the blue moon. The first full moon occurring in April is called the Pink Moon. Purple Moon fits well as the name of second full moon in April following Pink Moon, analogous to mixing pink and blue yielding purple. Giving that April has only 30 days, a second full moon in April is extremely rare, which led to the idiom once in a purple moon referring to an extremely rare event, even rarer than the more familiar ‘once in a blue moon’.

Purple Moon

August is the corn moon; it happens every year.

And once in a blue moon rising is something rather rare.

February never has two moons, it never sees one blue,

It sometimes has no moon at all, and cares little about that too.

But April is the pink moon when flowers and seeds break out,

So, two full moons in April are a bonus to shout about.

Pink and blue make purple, so we call it the purple moon,

There’s not been one in fifty years, let’s hope we have one soon.

©Joseph R Mason 2021

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Choice

21st August 2021

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In my ear, a small voice, “We all have a choice.

We all have free will, to do good or for ill.”

“We were never made perfect; we were born out of conflict.

Sin was never our choice.” “But it was,” said the voice.

“We could never do better because sin was our fetter.

It’s like chains that bind us, in prison confines us.

Is there just no way out? No forgiveness about?

It’s a highway to hell, when for you tolls the bell.

There’s no stairway to heaven, there is no antigen.”

“But there is,” says the voice, “and it’s still about choice.”

“I chose darkness not light; can I still choose what’s right?

“I am not your nemesis, and way before Genesis,

Before you were in womb, you were then my heirloom,

My precious delight, never out of my sight,

No more wrong, just do right, come into the light.”

“But how do I get there, I don’t know how to pray?”

“Just be trusting in me, for I am the way.”

So, I asked for His grace, and His Spirit He sent.

When I got to my feet, on His cross I was leant.

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Happiness.

Happiness is not on the face of a clown,

They always have a permanent frown.

Happiness is something you just have inside.

But in people I know, it knows how to hide.

So, give us a smile, no, give us a grin,

Showing you’re happy, is not yet a sin,

Big hearty laughs, so your wobbly bits wobble.

Laughing out loud so it makes the mind boggle.

Like sand in your toes and the wind in your hair.

Joy to the world like you’ve laughter to share.

Pleasure, delight, big thrills, and elation.

Let’s spread it like marmite across our great nation.

So, love it or loathe it, let’s spread it around.

Let happiness, joy, and laughter abound.

Photo by Mary Taylor on Pexels.com

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Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Happiness – June 24, 2021 – Eugi’s Causerie (amanpan.com)

A Celebration of the Confusion of Adolescence.

22nd June 2021

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Let’s celebrate the celibate, those who have not cherished,

Or lived, or lain in sinful pose, or loved before they perished?

Remember those who cannot love, because great pain it causes,

Who hesitate at every touch with long and stiffened pauses.

Forget not those who live to love and love to live enraptured,

Whose very breath, and every thought, through each desire is captured.

Who’s bodies quiver at every touch, perspire at every thought.

Even though they think it’s wrong and shameful if they’re caught.

Let us not dwell too long on this, of lust and things impure.

Instead, consider purity, and how we shall endure.

The former things of which we spoke, put them behind us now,

For growing up is difficult, but we’ll get through somehow.

As adolescence dawns, hair in armpits, face and places,

We fancy boys, we fancy girls, and our voices change to basses.

But we’ll get through, we always do, without every asking mother.

Just take it all in hand you see, just like every other.

©Joseph R Mason 2021

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Wolf Moon

Photo by Vincent Peters on Pexels.com

Did you see the wolf moon rise?

Dazzling watchers of the winter skies.

Did you feel your blood turn chill?

As a full moon rose over snow-capped hill.

Did you hear the howling in the night?

A blood curdling scream to give a fright.

Did you hear that panting like a pack of dogs?

Or wolves, or demons, or perhaps, hedgehogs.

Your imagination just runs wild.

As the fears return you had as a child.

“Get a grip,” you say out loud.

As the wolf moon dips behind a cloud.

No such thing as werewolves, that rip you limb from bowel.

I always get this feeling as I howl, howl, howwwwwllllll!

© Joseph R. Mason 2021

29th January 2021

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Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Wolf Moon – January 28, 2021 ‹ Eugi’s Causerie ‹ Reader — WordPress.com

Everlasting Twaddle

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Everlasting twaddle,

Everlasting twat.

Everlasting wobble,

Everlasting this and that.

Everlasting gobstopper?

Surely that’s a piece of clay.

Everlasting tedium?

Now that’s a groundhog day.

Twaddle, twat, wobble, that,

A list of words you think.

Perhaps they are an anagram?

Or another crossword link.

Think on it and

Think on it

Think all day and night.

When the sun does rise, it’ll dawn on you,

And give your brain a fright.

And so the poem, repeats itself.

It just goes on and on.

I knew the bloke what wrote it.

I know he’s too far gone.

Please don’t read it to the end,

Or it will send you round the bend.

Everlasting twaddle,

Everlasting twat.

Everlasting wobble,

Everlasting this and that.

Everlasting gobstopper?

Surely that’s a piece of clay.

Everlasting tedium?

Now that’s a groundhog day.

Twaddle, twat, wobble, that,

A list of words you think.

Perhaps they are an anagram?

Or another crossword link.

Think on it and

Think on it

Think all day and night.

When the sun does rise, it’ll dawn on you,

And give your brain a fright.

And so the poem, repeats itself.

It just goes on and on.

I knew the bloke what wrote it.

I know he’s too far gone.

Everlasting twaddle,

Everlasting twat.

Everlasting wobble,

Everlasting this and that.

Everlasting gobstopper?

Surely that’s a piece of clay.

Everlasting tedium?

Now that’s a groundhog day.

Twaddle, twat, wobble, that,

A list of words you think.

Perhaps they are an anagram?

Or another crossword link.

Think on it and

Think on it

Think all day and night.

When the sun does rise, it’ll dawn on you,

And give your brain a fright.

And so the poem, repeats itself.

It just goes on and on.

I knew the bloke what wrote it.

I know he’s too far gone.

Everlasting twaddle,

Everlasting twat.

Everlasting wobble,

Everlasting this and that.

Everlasting gobstopper?

Surely that’s a piece of clay.

Everlasting tedium?

Now that’s a groundhog day.

Twaddle, twat, wobble, that,

A list of words you think.

Perhaps they are an anagram?

Or another crossword link.

Think on it and

Think on it

Think all day and night.

When the sun does rise, it’ll dawn on you,

And give your brain a fright.

And if you read it to the end,

Then you, like me, are round the bend,

And so the poem, repeats itself.

It just goes on and on.

I knew the bloke what wrote it.

I know he’s too far gone…………………………………………..

and on, and on, and on……………………………………………

©joseph r mason 2020

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All Hallows Eve.

© Shutterstock – True Touch Lifestyle

October ends with Halloween

A pointless celebration.

For ghosts and ghouls do not exist

‘cept in imagination.

All Hallows Eve, its proper name

The night before all saint’s day.

To celebrate the saints of old

And I would just like to say.

Halloween is just not us,

Imported from the States.

And of the many things that come our way,

It’s not one of the greats.

So you can keep your Halloween,

Your pumpkins, trick or treat.

Frightening the old and frail,

That live along our street.

We can’t abide your Halloween,

and we don’t want it here.

It’s not the ghosts who frighten me

It’s God the one I fear.

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