FAMILY PLANNING
You English have it:
A plan for life I mean
Sex, marriage even,
A mortgage at nineteen.
Holidays in Benidorm
Or that Costa by-the-sea.
And two point five children
That grandma minds
Most weekends for free.
Author: gorgeousgael
THE BLUE REMEMBERED HILLS
BLUE REMEMBERED HILLS
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
The above poem, often called The Land Of Lost Content, was written by A E HOUSMAN, an English classical scholar and one of the great Victorian lyric poets. The poems wistfully evoke the dooms and disappointments of youth in the English countryside with their beauty, simplicity and distinctive imagery. His best known collection is called A SHROPSHIRE LAD, a cycle of 63 poems, which was published at his own expense in 1896. It rapidly became a lasting success and has been continuously in print ever since.
From Clee to heaven the beacon burns,
The shires have seen it plain,
From north and south the sign returns
And beacons burn again.
Look left, look right, the hills are bright,
The dales are light between,
Because ’tis fifty years to-night
That God has saved the Queen.
Now, when the flame they watch not towers
About the soil they trod,
Lads, we’ll remember friends of ours
Who shared the work with God.
(first 3 verses from his poem 1887)
THE UNIVERSE AS A HOLOGRAM PART TWO
THE UNIVERSE AS A HOLOGRAM PART TWO
According to Einstein
Energy created the Universe.
I seem to have little of that these days
So my powers of creation are limited.
Should I try Vibrational Medicine?
Quantum Mechanics has the answers
Apparently.
Every cell, organ, arm and leg
Has an emergency frequency signature
Broadcasting whatever it needs
Moment by moment.
Now science is imitating nature
Creating a Holographic Universe
Where I can seemingly be in different locations
At the same time.
(a bit Doctor Who-ish, I know)
World-wide authentic native wisdom
Shares the sacred secret
In our understanding of the Quantum Hologram.
If it is not on the Quantum Hologram
It cannot manifest in the ‘real’ world
Quantum Hologram equals reality
And reality means
I am…
Something.
THE UNIVERSE AS A HOLOGRAM
THE UNIVERSE AS A HOLOGRAM
I was happy as I am
Living in a hologram
Please don’t add to my confusion
Is my 3D space just an illusion?
Am I in mired in someone else’s dreams?
Well, fuck you buddy
Life just ain’t what it seems.
see my books @ http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tom-OBrien/e/B0034OIGOQ/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1388083522&sr=1-2-ent
THE WALL
I find the further back I go, the better I remember things, whether they happened or not.
Mark Twain
THE WALL
I stopped by our wall again today
Staring
Just staring
I saw an image of you
Fleeting
As you hurried by
It was like somebody
Had stood on my grave
You in all your finery
Mirrored on a blank wall
Blank
Just like your face.
MY BOOKS PAGE ON FACEBOOK
MY BOOKS PAGE ON FACEBOOK
AGENTS UNITED
AGENTS UNITED
The vultures have been circling
And will be for some time
Their Gordon Gekko faces
All suntanned and sublime
They utter words of wisdom such as On yer bike
And when pressed for clarification
They say things like;
It’s money down the drain
And football is a funny old game
Aim for the sky and you’ll reach the ceiling or the door
Aim for the ceiling and you will stay on the floor.
Success in football is all in the mind
You never lose a game if your opponent doesn’t score
Football is about being better
Than you were the day before
So set your goals high
And don’t stop until you get there
And don’t dream about being a footballer
Dream about being a millionaire.
THE GREEN FORGOTTEN VALLEYS
THE GREEN FORGOTTEN VALLEYS
Those green forgotten valleys,
No longer can be seen
Lying hidden behind the tall fir and larch
That have made these brown hills green
Relentlessly marching down the hills
Burying everything in their wake
The dead are long gone from this place
The pike no longer in the lake
The houses just hollow shells now
Where the past ghosts eerily through
The vacant windows and doors
With rotted frames and jambs that once were new.
Back then there was no silence, only the sound
Of human laughter, and bird-calls to each other
The dogs growling at a wayward sheep.
And children’s scrapes kissed better by their mother
Nature is having the last laugh now
Soon there will be no trace of us at all
As the trees come marching down the hillside
No one hears the lonesome curlew’s call.
DUNGENESS
Boats that belong to better days
Mingle with iron flotsam
Washed ashore on a sea of shingle
Fishermen’s shacks sit like pygmies
In the shadow of the power station
Their colourful facades
Browbeaten by nature’s extremes
A stone garden sprouts incongruously
Beside one such dwelling;
It does not bloom in spring
But neither will it die when winter comes


















