Magic Roundabout.

(The teen years collection)

From peace to kindness
then kindness to wealth.
Wealth on to jealousy
jealousy to war.
War leads to poverty
and poverty to peace.
This neverending circle
we call life.

Ode to anyone (The teen years collection)

Hi, ye all, just a few words
to ponder the mind
Why, when and how
just try answer that.
The chicken or egg,
the book or the bang,
what is the story of man.
Is it black or white,
peace or war
a contrast in terms
or a suitable pair.
Is nature so natural
that our greed is life.
or what!
Just try answer that.

-

Journey for a bus (The teen year collection)

As I wander along the streets
of depression
and my eyes catching all
that moves,
Seeing resting drunks sleep
in a slumbering heap.

Faint city lights
casting deep shadows,
creating the darkest of fears
thus bringing the heart to a
thundering gallop
and the mind to the blackest
of fears.

From one lane to next,
I toll on my deed.
A view in the distance
of sweet bursting white light
behold! my carriage awaits,
To carry me yonder
away from this blight.

Exam Time (The teen years collection)

As I look up and stare
at those who surround
their facial expressions
cast waves of despair.

With minds deep in book
for knowledge they look
with hope they find
the answers in time.

Exams drawing closer
the clocks ticking over
Emotions growing colder
Confusion leaving odour.

Questions been asked
answers recieved
Nerves quietened down
by fags and black tea.

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Rain
Current mood: awake
Category: Writing and Poetry

Don't ya just just hate it.

Those grey clouds swarming across the sky
Another sheet of rain runs up the valley,
Every face a former shadow of itself,
Every flower hanging its weary head.

The city streets a wash with crazy umbrellas,
A mad multi coloured forest of crazy trees.
Flooded drains,
Rain lowing down a window like tears of distain.
Young people running,
Old folks moving slow.

But stop.
Wait.
Look.

There are a thousand shades of grey swirling above,
The rain is painting a crazy picture on my window pane.
A thousand flowers drink,
They toast the heaven's gift.

Oh rain, wash away the filthy streets,
Carry it all away.
As a wise man once said,
In a bitter sweet play,
Oh come good rain.

 

Lonely Planets

Another wave crashes,
and slowly retreats.
White horse roam and clouds float by.
Ther sun shines,
a dog barks in the distance.

Nature is beautiful in every sence,
it has an undefined relationship with itself.
Everything has its place.
A tree knows when to shelter and when to breathe life,
A rock knows when to crumble or to roll,
ever evolving, ever staying.

Why do we have to fight it,
control it,
harm it,
deny our part in the chain.

Why do we fear the unknown and the known,
shy away from something beautiful,
hide in fear,
and crush this power that made us what we are?

Why do we fear,
why do we walk away,
why do we hurt,
why can we not forget,

Sometimes I feel,
A million miles a tear shall fall, a dream a way, a milion lifes more
beyond the grasp,
far from hope,
but will never stop dreaming,
for when all dreams are gone,
we are but an empty shell.

New beats on a bus

Further beats on a bus.

Rattle, buzz, crack
Ring, talk, text, chat,
We meet, we won't
Great night, sore head
Met a girl, met a guy
Stop

Roaring bike
Sweet, sweet sound,
Musical chairs.
Buzz, hum
Go again
Turn and rattle
The edge of city
The mean streets are falling behind
I can feel the buzz of the country

Traffic lights, the last on the trip
Stop, pick up
Move on
Turn

Hurry, hurry
That country feeling,
Ah, I can taste it
Light,
Green
Blue
Brown
Sweet clouds,
What shapes are they
Ya, dragon,
Shark,
Swan
And then some.

The city buzz is living my body,
Time to soak it in country now.
Trees, bushes,
Flowers,
Birds
Ploughed fields
Rows of trees
Telephone wire
Farm yard shed

Cars rush to no where
Always rushing
Never stopping to see the view.
Oh, dear people, you miss too much by rushing
Less rush, more chill
Must get home I see them think
Some silly show
Some boring life.

Beat me another poem dear bus,
Save my carbon shoe
From kicking mother nature to hard..
Ah, show me the river.
There it is
Slowly making its way to meet its sister the sea.

Up hill, down hill
Rollercoaster bus,
Race the river.
Boats,
Village in view.
Time for a beer.
Stop.

Ray Padden