Trying to Breathe

When she stays in your heart like the shadow behing you

Never straying too far or spreading too thin

When she fills you with joy like the warm setting sun

as the skies get much darker but the glow stays within

 

When she sparkles your life with dazzling glitter

that sprinkles your pages and falls on the floor

When she's bright like the catherine wheel spinning and spinning

and your eyes lose their focus and lights start to blur.

When she smiles like the angel you never believed in

and fills you with hope of the chances you missed

When she glows with a brilliance that lights up your way

and the darkness inside you is filled with a kiss

When she stays is in your head like the things you've forgotten

And niggles all day like a puzzle to crack.

She's your first thought at day break, birds singing her name

and your last dream at night, as the sheep fade to black

Whe she gives you a purpose, a reason to live

gives her strength and her passion and fills you with with air

When she is stays in your heart, in your blood and your soul

How do you breathe when she's no longer there.

(Eggy, May08)

Understanding

I have a good friend who is a playwrite. I visited him the other day and he showed me some song lyrics he wrote a few years back. Britain was trying to contain Foot and Mouth by burning animals, lots of them.

Anyhow this is to be sung to the tune of "Do you hear the people sing" from Les Miserables.

Do you hear the echoes ring? Ringing out from empty pens?
It is the snorting of the piggies, who will not be shot again
When the bleating of the sheep, echoes the banging of the guns
There is a farm about to end, when tomorrow comes!

Will you join the massive cull?
It wont be long to stand by me
Beyond the farmhouse walls
Is that a sheep that we can see?
Then join us in the kill
That will give you a thrill - wait and see!

Do you hear the echoes ring? Ringing out for empty tills?
It is the sound of all the tourists, who will not be seen again!
When the bleating of the Bank, echoes the opening of the bills
Theres a business about to fail, when tomorrow comes!

Will you let me cull your stock
So the disease may just abate
We will shoot down all your flock
Will you just open up your gate?
Never worked for Taiwan
But who gives a damn - It their fate!

Do you hear the Party sing? Singing the song of spinning men?
It is the music of the MP who just wants your vote again
When the speeches in the house gloss over death throes in the land
An election about to start when tomorrow comes!

 

Now i've got to tell you, my good friend and I dont actually agree on much. We argue on foreign policy, the EU, the pound, the environment, the US, economics, religion, imports, migration, local councils, inflation and even the price of a cab ride.... but we're still friends.

We are friends because although we may take the mick, we always respect the other one has genuine reasons for believing what they do, and a reasonable arguement to present. We listen and we argue because we need to understand how the other one thinks. Never do we take the argument personally. Never do we take offense just because we disagree. Never do we make assumptions.

Thats what friends do, thats what people who want to get along do....

 

Israel must be wiped off the map.
Mahmoud Ahmadinejad

A dictatorship would be a heck of a lot easier
George W. Bush

The only white man you can trust is a dead white man
Robert Mugabe

After all, this is the guy who tried to kill my dad
George W. Bush

Poem

I would love to take credit for these two poems, but alas I have passed on todays blog to a man far more eloquent than me

http://www.channel4.com/fourdocs/film/film-detail.jsp?id=65565

Benjamin Zephania blew me away with an excellent poem called "I;ve been listening to the wrong radio station".

I copied a couple of his lighter poems below. And big praise to Channel 4 for being brave enough for sticking it on National TV (even if it was at 1am)

Wot a Pair

I waz walking down Wyefront street
When me trousers ran away,
I waz feeling incomplete
But still me trousers would not stay,
When I found where they had gone
De pair addressed me rather blunt,
And they told me they were sick of being put on
Back to front.

I told dem I would treat dem good
And wear dem back to back,
I promised dem protection
From a friend who is a mac,
Me trousers did not believe a single word I had to say,
And me underpants were laughing
When me trousers ran away.

The British (serves 60 million)

Take some Picts, Celts and Silures
And let them settle,
Then overrun them with Roman conquerors.

Remove the Romans after approximately 400 years
Add lots of Norman French to some
Angles, Saxons, Jutes and Vikings, then stir vigorously.

Mix some hot Chileans, cool Jamaicans, Dominicans,
Trinidadians and Bajans with some Ethiopians, Chinese,
Vietnamese and Sudanese.

Then take a blend of Somalians, Sri Lankans, Nigerians
And Pakistanis,
Combine with some Guyanese
And turn up the heat.

Sprinkle some fresh Indians, Malaysians, Bosnians,
Iraqis and Bangladeshis together with some
Afghans, Spanish, Turkish, Kurdish, Japanese
And Palestinians
Then add to the melting pot.

Leave the ingredients to simmer.

As they mix and blend allow their languages to flourish
Binding them together with English.

Allow time to be cool.

Add some unity, understanding, and respect for the future,
Serve with justice
And enjoy.

Note: All the ingredients are equally important. Treating one ingredient better than another will leave a bitter unpleasant taste.

Warning: An unequal spread of justice will damage the people and cause pain. Give justice and equality to all.