My Proposal To God

Always the air seems empty

stifling and ghostly yet –

as I walk these streets alone

with only my shadows for comfort

the darkness is my only friend.

I look towards the neon lights

colored bright upon the horizon

I’ve been there once,

lived there

was one of the beautiful people

that was before yesterday came.

Now I’m in today and different

all I have is my case of memories

my clothes and a bottle in a bag!

I crave for nothing and nothing

craves for me…

I feel deserted by mankind.

As for that God – I ask myself a question?

Written by B R Walker

Copywriter UK 2017

Stone Heart…

So this day leaves a bitter taste
what about the night?

The light haunts and deceives you
so what about the night?

What about the shadow land
where silence rules and reigns supreme
your component is a vibrant nothing
as sadness darkens your heart
leaden and heavy, never to change.

Your brush strokes are vibrant and bold
yet your picture will never be finished
or foretold…

But this is your time.
A time of chill and damp
stagnant pools of dark water
surround your ankles,
reflecting the night sky.

No stars shine you like it that way
it suits your stone heart
you creature of the night.

Written by B R Walker
Copywriter UK 2017

 

My Knight

When we touch hands

you ignite my heart

into a burning flame

extinguishing all hope of reprisal

for in your arms I feel so safe

You are my Armour of steel

a fortress without a wall

an enduring light that never fades

take me with you on your white charger…

Written by B R Walker

Copywriter UK 2017

CHASING THE CLOCK

Sitting here waiting while the clock face chases forward
My memories bewildered and twisted, with unborn thoughts…
Seeing things I’ve waited for all these years just go by as tear drops
Now, like a paper book each page is turned, as my life is spanning out –

Walking through the concrete jungle within this metropolis of home
There is a foreboding question lingering before my eyes
Is there a life within life that is living.  Or is all this just a common metaphor…

Now I’m standing on the platform of the golden alter of sunrise
Where people wonder if man is god or a king?  Eyes closed but seeing all
Their tempers are flamed with the union that has been found
Sitting here waiting while the clock face chases backwards.  I’m afraid!

Afraid of what I might find when I open them again.
                                                               .                                                                                              
Written 2 June 2017 
By B R Walker
Copywriter UK 

My Brother Was Silent

I waited for you brother day and night

within the shadows among the tents

I prayed for your return.

Then they brought you from the field

you were calm like the desert sands.

A silhouette so delicate and calm

to my fingers.

I found a crumpled picture of a girl

in your pocket torn bloodied and stained.

Memory after memory of departed love

came flooding from within her wrinkled

smile.

I undid your bundle –

my heroic brother who had come home.

Feel the warmth of my hands upon your face.

Let my lips kiss your forehead, awake…

I’ll shout your praises.

Yet my brother was silent.

Yet my brother was silent.

While his blood cried out from the ground.

Written by B R Walker

Copywriter UK 2017

Memories

I shatter

Dissolve within myself

I swirl like flotsam in the ebb of childhood dreams

Of what I hope are nightmares

And flung free

From thoughts too bad to last

Caught within the swell of seething summer nights

Besides a bloodless, dark massed sea

I cannot forget. I cannot fight

My memory.

I trip, and cut myself on jagged fragments of my past.

I writhe in the grip of half remembered pain

I fight the echoes of my sullied name

And only in not being find relief

And only in dying can atone.

No one can understand

You cannot know

How much you hurt me by your disbelief

Or how thoughts of self destruction scheme

Whether I am with you or alone.

No matter how untouched and bright I seem

I am forever tarnished by their sin.

I cannot show

How desperate I feel, and afraid

You do not notice how I note each blade

You do not see me eye the passing cars.

You do not see the long dug trenches, or the scars

Where ignorant armies grind

In slow and graceless wars

Across the moon-blanched landscape of my mind

Written up by B R Walker 2017

God has Pity on Mankind

God loves babies in mothers arms
He wonders about children as they grow
But adults he has no time for.

He discards them
As sometimes they have to crawl on all fours
From out of the roasting desert
To reach shelter and safety
For his tired wounds tell a story
And they are streaming with blood.

Perhaps he will show some piety
And take care of them
Shade them like the sleepers in the park
This God may then get to like man
Take pity on him, guide him
Unto the paths of righteousness.

So happiness will show through and protect all
For the days to come.

Written by B R Walker

Copywriter UK 2017