A million more did start

https://wolfgarwords.com/

 

I wish I could walk a mile on my twisted wasted legs,

but they are on a cratered path

somewhere else instead.

 

I wish I could speak a truth with my mangled severed tongue,

but it festers in a blood soaked pit

where silence was begun.

 

I wish I could show you vision through my blinded plucked out eyes,

but they were stamped on with derision

when I pleaded with them, why?

 

I wish I could take your hand with my shattered broken claw,

but they shackled it and hacked it off

when I knocked upon their door.

 

I wish I could make you feel with my broken bleeding heart,

the one that when they stopped it

a million more did start.

 

 

◄ On hearing news of murder

A garden of clouds ►

Comments

Profile image

Wolfgar Miere

Tue 25th Jun 2019 19:21

Thank you Ray,

I like the expression 'Pendulum from the pit'

thanks pal,

David.

Profile image

Wolfgar Miere

Tue 25th Jun 2019 07:12

Thanks Trevor,

your comments are very kind and much appreciated.

David.

Profile image

raypool

Mon 24th Jun 2019 22:42

Remarkable and disheartening in the extreme, and backed up by life and your experience of how terrible things can get. I don't know how I missed this mate. It reminds me of a pendulum from the pit, with that weight of the rhyming. Someone out there is getting the message.

Ray

Profile image

Wolfgar Miere

Mon 24th Jun 2019 19:13

Thanks Stu,

great song. I'd never heard it before.

I'm doing OK thanks mate, busy at the moment but hoping to get some down time next month. Contemplating Florence or St Petersburg...depends on the prevailing mood.

Thanks again Stu,

David.

Profile image

trevor homer

Mon 24th Jun 2019 15:30

When I read this I thought of Dead And Don't Know It - Living And Do [Jack Kerouac] - if not the poem then at least the sentiment. Thanks. T

Profile image

Stu Buck

Mon 24th Jun 2019 14:30

great stuff david

reminded me of this

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aCrBhDGquL0

hope you are well

edit: this is my favourite band by the way

edit: these are the lyrics incase you have no time to listen

I gave up my eyes to a man who was blind
And I gave all my strength to a man who was tired
I gave my desire to a man with more fire
And I lost my good looks to a girl I admired

I lent out my voice to a small group of choirboys
And I gave up my hands to a man who made toys
And all that I kept was the heart in my chest
And I hoped that someday I could give it away
But before my chance came you broke it in two
But if you had just asked I would've given it to you

I went to great lengths for a cause that was spent
And I lost all my friends to a lack of commitment
I gave my best clothes to a man who proposed
To a woman I loved but I didn't really know

And all I have left is the heart in my chest
And I'd give it to you if I thought you'd be impressed
But what would you do with a heart split in two?
And a heart that won't work is of no use to you

So I laid my heart down in a box in the ground
And I threw on some earth and I tried to forget
That a heart that won't work is not even worth
A glimpse of your smile or an hour of your time

A heart that won't work it's not even worth
A glimpse of your smile or an hour of your time

Profile image

Wolfgar Miere

Mon 24th Jun 2019 13:35

Thank you Angel,

I am pleased you saw something in this.

David.

Profile image

Angel whisperer indigo child x

Sat 22nd Jun 2019 23:50

that's a great poem..
poetry is about all of what I just read
a piece of your mind and soul xx
thankyou x

Profile image

Wolfgar Miere

Sat 22nd Jun 2019 20:16

Thanks Colin,

people don't like truths that challenge them until its them being presented with the awful truths, then they scream like lost little children whose parents brains are spattered on their faces.

Then they make some noise.

It's all extremely sad to me...but hey at least there is always cheap booze and soap to lose ourselves in, that and the fellowship of fellow eye averters...telling us all how spiritual they are..

Anyway...more Scotch please barman!

Colin Rutherford

Thu 20th Jun 2019 12:57

That’s really excellent, graphic, great imagery and so thought provoking. It could apply to so many atrocities...and should be shared to a much wider audience than this.

Profile image

Wolfgar Miere

Thu 20th Jun 2019 12:40

Thank you Peter,

that is a lovely comment. I too consider myself fortunate that anyone might read what I write and find it interesting.

I suppose that we should all be grateful to those who facilitate this site...irrespective of our sometimes opposing views on the variety of life we see and experience.

Thanks for reminding me Peter.

David.

Profile image

Peter Taylor

Thu 20th Jun 2019 06:34

Morning David,
Another of your greats.
I consider myself fortunate in having direct access every day to your thinking, via your words. What a lucky chance! And it's wonderful that WOL is there to deliver them to me - thanks Greg and colleagues.
Peter

Profile image

Wolfgar Miere

Thu 20th Jun 2019 05:18

Thank you Martin,

David.

Profile image

Martin Elder

Wed 19th Jun 2019 21:24

That last stanza says it all for me David. The desire to want to make people feel what has and is still going for those that are on the receiving end. To understand what it feels like wit a broken bleeding heart. I am glad you did not hold back with this one in particular.
Nice one

Profile image

Wolfgar Miere

Wed 19th Jun 2019 19:11

Thanks Rachel,

yes the first verses are all grim and the last line is the truth.

No-one can kill an idea, no one can extinguish love or reason to a point that it can never be rekindled by self or another if so desired.

We have all seen evil deeds punished we also have seen evil deeds go unpunished. I think it is true to say that eventually great evils are recognised and found out, that doesn't mean that individuals always suffer the consequences because they often don't, some even go on to rule great nations. But eventually everything is outed.

Thank you Rachel...

So you see this grim, gloomy, dark, brooding piece of inward looking indulgence is in fact the opposite....imagine that!

David.

PS, I know you knew that.

Profile image

elPintor

Wed 19th Jun 2019 08:58

a sort of "in memoriam" with a hint of rebirth and adaptation at the close...

I'll try not to veer too far off course, but the process of creation behind the adaptations that occur after we find that something in or of us has been harmed can reveal us to ourselves in ways that are often surprising and, sometimes, disturbing. I say, embrace it--I refuse to let a lot of simpletons convince me otherwise.

Anyhow, that last line brings to mind scenes of hearts being restarted thru electric shock. I could go on with an analogy, but I don't think it's necessary...

Rachel )

PS
Please pardon the oversimplification to "embrace it"--I could write a thesis but I'll spare you.

Profile image

Wolfgar Miere

Wed 19th Jun 2019 05:58

Thank you Jason.

David.

Profile image

Jason Bayliss

Wed 19th Jun 2019 01:03

Great poem, all the better for its stripped back nature. Hard words are better when they're not hidden in confetti. Loved it..

J.

Profile image

Wolfgar Miere

Tue 18th Jun 2019 23:39

I'm going to break some unwritten rules here and talk to myself.

Just a note to those with multiple WoL personalities..you are not unseen folks, stop kidding yourselves...software works hard.

I frequently visited a prison In Kabul (just outside) called 'Pul-e Charkhi' it was and is notoriously one of the most terrible prisons in the world. Built by the Russians for The Muj and other transgressors, it was a hell hole by the time I viewed it.

I once stood in its empty swimming pool (which they used as an execution area) and pushed my fingers into the bullet holes in its walls wondering whose skulls they had passed through. I spoke with guards who had worked there during that time and who in detail spoke of the horrors they witnessed and took part in (some of them extremely proud of their atrocities)

Another favourite was getting prisoners to dive into the empty pool head first from the 10 meter diving board, apparently the guards just loved that one.

Sometimes folks poetry is real..not just imaginings which you and I pull off the pages of this mornings newspaper..and thank fu-- for that I say.

Proper,

David.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message