God

I have a friend who proclaims nothing is in our hands
because it is all in the laps of the gods we cannot see.
I have a grandfather who is convinced a god watches
over us day-by-day and keeps his son safe until the
long awaited moment when they are reunited again.
I have a grandmother who lives by grandfather’s rules,
not through faith but through hope that come the end
of it all he turns out to be right in the face of adversity.
I have a father buried beneath a headstone he did not want
because he never saw or heard the god his father claimed to know.

And I cannot claim to know him either, regardless of my friend’s
proclamations and my grandfather’s insistence that his
prayer’s for me are always answered because I am not
the bastard I need to be, nor am I as large as the life
they think I have behind these eyes so allegedly alabaster.
And it is in irony that I claim to be so cold in isolation as
grandfather truly believes if I clasp my hands in silent prayer
I could never be alone - but talking to myself, or to the walls, does not
constitute being in company; otherwise I would never be alone,
despite failing to utter a single Hail Mary for my spurious smiles.

Time

Tick-tock, tick-tock,
Goes my silver Celtic watch,
Time is running out fast
On all the important things in my life,
On my youthful freedom
To do as I please,
On my time to prepare for the big test,
On my chance to make her realise that I am the one for her,
On the time I get to spend with my friends.
It doesn't seem too long ago,
That I was only entering my teens,
Now, all of a sudden,
I am eighteen and am expected to be mature,
To be responsible and sensible,
Despite the fact that I have never really grown up,
Even though I should have.

Tick-tock, tick-tock,
Goes my silver Celtic watch...

I look around at my friends,
Marvelling at how mature they are compared to me,
I see old friends from years ago,
And wonder at how much they have changed since then.
I am still the same,
Time hasn't changed me at all,
I am still childish, without any common sense,
But realising all of these things,
While knowing that time is running out,
Has given me a new resolve,
To grow up and take on the responsibility,
That I should have taken on years ago,
When the Big Man left,
I think that time is on my side,
After all, I'm only young, it's not my time yet...
Is it?

Tick-tock, tick-tock,
Goes my silver Celtic watch,
Tick-tock, tick --
The watch stops...
Has time run out?

(I like this one because of the image of the Celtic watch, a 16th birthday present from my beloved grandmother; unfortunately I have since lost the watch).

The Tricycle, the Bee and my Knee

I am an innocent six year old,
Laughing and playing,
Without a care in the world,
Just enjoying life.

I am staying in my granny's house,
She spoils me rotten,
She always gives me money and sweets,
How lucky am I!?

I decide to go out to the back garden,
As I want to cycle my tricycle,
But as I cycle along the path,
I fall over and into the grass.

It's quite funny at first,
The sun is shining and the weather is warm,
But I suddenly feel this pain in my knee,
I look down and see a black and yellow bee.

The bee had stung me!
The pain was incredible,
Like a burning sensation in my knee,
But my granny comes to my rescue.

She rubs a special cream on the sting,
Tears roll down my eyes,
But then she promises me a brand new toy,
For being such a brave little boy!

I look up at her with joy,
My tears begin to disappear,
They are replaced instead by a large grin,
Which got even larger when I got my new toy!