Poetry

by david ratcliffe

SUMMIT TUNNEL

The homeboy patrolled the platform
hauling a case full of troubles;
a youth, unprepared, undercooked, fidgety,
4 minutes from departure.

He could see his half-life below,
wished to wallow in its familiar frown,
allow his timidity licence to return
to the arms of invisibility.

The village continued its sophistry;
July sunrise presented limestone ripples,
clouds created kaleidoscopic greens,
the old mill beseeched him, remain
within its simplicity,
content to drink life from cupped hands.

A cursory glance to the exit;
would he prove them right?
'would he eckerslike',
yet fearing the train's arrival
he hoped it would run out of steam,
hiss to a stop, forever
lost in the tunnel a mile
from his inward mitherings.

Through branches of dappled summer, 
he looked down at the bus stop
from where his ride to that point had
terminated at the limits of imagination, 
while he waited for adventure
far beyond ambition...

 

Infinite Ignition © 2015 All Rights Reserved

COMING SOON...

David has written 2 songs for the Country / Roll n Roll / Bluerass Band Backyard Burners due to be release on their next new album. Keep a look out on David's blogs and here on this page for more info...

Check out their great work by clicking on the image below.

 

The songs below are songs I have written and are currently owned by an artist I cannot mention at this stage. Stayed tuned for further information

 

PICK UP THE PAPERS

Slight of hand and secret signs
Filthy greed controls their minds
Wont spend your tax on fighting crime
They fool the people all of the time
The wars not our, folks are in a rage
The editors holding the front page

Extra, extra wont you read all about it
Thousands of Brits are heading for the exits...

Chorus...
Just when you think there's a hole in the market
They pull a new tax so you can't even start it
This is a long way from living the dream
Pick up the papers, you'll see what I mean

Keeping it hid for a rainy day
Your foundations built on clay
They won't spent tax on no defenses
They use your stash on their expenses
Take good care, you dont want to die
Money spent on health is a fucking lie

Extra, extra wont you read all about it
Thousands of Brits are heading for the exits...

Chorus...
Just when you think there's a hole in the market
They pull a new tax so you can't even start it
This whole big joke has become obscene
Pick up the papers, you'll see what I mean

 

UNDER ATTACK

Must I pay for unplanned errors
I made mistakes but I'm no killer
Detractors must have holes in their lives
they spend their time sharpening knifes
I won't worry, don't need a tumor
My best defense is a sense of humor

Chorus
Attack, attack, I'm under attack
Its become open season
But they must have good reason
Attack, attack, their whole outlook is black
I am closing this page
And I won't be turning back

You can't hide it now that your cover is blown
Wouldn't it be cool to have a mind of your own
You're not to blame, I hear you say
Guess it must be in your DNA
I'm an open book, take a look inside
Smiling at my enemy, protecting my pride

Chorus
Attack, attack, I'm under attack
Its become open season
But they must have good reason
Attack, attack, their whole outlook is black
I am closing this page
And I won't be turning back

It must be getting lonely in your empty shell
Helium expansion stretch all over your face
Float out into orbit find some species that cares
But if you take another step; better say your prayers
That's all for now, I guess that I am all through
Don't be call, me and I wont be calling you

Chorus...

 

NOTHING MATTERS

Saloon bar girls are out tonight
Too much slap and jeans too tight
Hope the evening works out well
In this old town its hard to tell
Impulse tends to be a curse
It should get better
Couldn't get much worse

Baby crying in a pram today
Daddy isn't here he has gone away
Where is he when they ring the bell
In this old town its hard to tell
Impulse tends to be a curse
It should get better
Couldn't get much worse

Chorus...
Standing tall seems a good idea
Then leaves you feeling so small
Nothing Matters much anyway
Most things don't matter at all

A new generation without direction
Living in a world without correction
Is there purpose to this daily hell
In this old town its hard to tell
Impulse tends to be a curse
It should get better
Couldn't get much worse

Chorus...
Standing tall seems a good idea
Then leaves you feeling so small
Nothing matters much anyway
Most things don't matter at all

 

JUDGEMENT DAY

Why are we people
What's it all for
Living and dying
Taking then leaving
Breathing then ceasing
Lies told to loved ones
What you concealing

Chorus...
Leaving a mark on this earth
Tombstones tell only of mirth
What is the point in this life anyway
Is there anymore after judgement day

Suffer in silence
Victims of violence
Slaves to the ego
Have a go heroes
Give in to temptation
Rise above station
Abusing your trust
Giving in to your lust

Chorus...
Leaving a mark on this earth
Tombstones tell only of mirth
What is the point in this life anyway
Is there anymore after judgement day

Kids in the dole queue
Breaking their curfew
Mums using needles
Empty cathedrals
The system is bent
You cant buy or rent
The skies full of holes
People god rest your souls


 

 

 

 

 

 

All writing material owned by David Ratcliffe© 2015 All Rights Reserved