Collected Poems
James Bickle
Contents
Part One
The Ego
The Manager
Those Who Win
Seven Billion
Why Does God Allow Suffering
Local Countryside
New Year
Part Two
Cool
Escapism
You’re Not Allowed
Social Housing
Christmas Day
The Entrepreneur
Part Three
A Week In The Life
The Conversation
Fairground Day
Requiem
World War 2 Pilot
Resident Patient
Part Four
The Garden
Winter Walk
Decisions
Inner Conflict
Earth
Heaven
Part One
The Ego
You can’t see it
Neither can you touch it
Some claim it doesn’t exist
Let’s admit it though
Its power is hard to resist
It wants to be your master
Let it and stack up disaster
It likes to be in charge
To shoulder barge
It wants to save face
So you give in and compose lies
They're so hard to disguise
Lies, which are bold
Because you refuse to be told
Chiefly it seeks fame
Secretly, it wants the rest to be lame
It listens to tales of others success
And goes quiet
It likes to disagree
And it’s easily offended
But hard to get mended
Egos take great skill to manage
To unravel - be aware
Of your ego, how it ticks
Don’t let it play its dirty tricks
Make the ego work for good
As ultimately, it should
The Manager
Making up a statement
For workers we just don’t rate
Colluding with the others
But don’t tell my mother
Everything runs by the book today
Until the seniors go back away
You wheeled out the charm
To hide the certain harm
Cutting back the staff
Whilst having a little laugh
Trimming the pay packets
Don’t tell me, I know it’s a racket
I won’t ever get caught
In my world everyone can be bought
Workers off with stress
We will have to make do with less
Area says the books are looking great
So how dare you all berate
What I’m doing can’t be fraud
Because business is fantastic
Those who win
How do people win?
In the world around us
The winners do what’s right
And run away from wrong
They do well and get rich
Yet are generous with it
Keeping on top of pride
They subdue and master anger
And refuse to give in to fear
Unjust guilt doesn't hurt them
Jealousy is forbidden to taunt
They don’t laze through time
Nor gorge beyond being full
Or want no end and more
Those in pursuit of victory
Are reaching for all of this
They're productive people
Making sure they rest too
What they build is worthwhile
They’re gaining great things
And they've grasped this life
The mixture of good and bad
They didn't choose what's easy
But they chose what’s true
They forgive their enemies
Yet justice is dear to them
Their lives are blessed now
And going to be even better
Seven Billion
Out there is a sea of faceless people
Swelled up to seven billion they say
Do I especially want to or need to
Affect and impact a difference?
Seven million poets just on one site
That’s just part of the Web’s might
People gathering and huddling for reviews
Quietly desperate not to lose
Spilling into the doctors surgery
Doubtless seventy seven people a day
The doctors gab curt and tired
Wishing your three minutes away
Seven tree surgeons in your town
You love the job but the competition
So insipid, it forces you down
No alternative, it’s what you know
So you keep to the mission
This face dazzles in the crowd
He’s a genius, I just can’t keep up
Is it even worth attempting?
You search here and there
For scraps of comfort and morale
Your life and work has so much value
Whether you have one talent or ten
We’re all so worthwhile, be you
The first or the seventh billionth
Why does God allow suffering
Why does God allow suffering?
Principally is what people ask
What kind of god, would sit back
And allow these bombs to blast
My family got unfairly robbed
The innocent get horribly mobbed
It’s just not at all damn right
That God just seems to sit tight
There’s no absolute answer
We will have to wait and see
Why God set things up in a way
That we don’t always agree
Why do people become ill?
Isn’t life supposed to be amazing?
Why is this so destabilising?
What can you or I really advise
Except to note some positive things
Are forged from suffering
Great discipline and compassion
Strength and sincere character
Knowledge and opened minds
Natural disasters, the earthquakes?
Is it death Gods trying to make?
Earthly systems briefly work in mortal motion
As the animals, fragile human flesh ebbs and flows
But unique to the human is an eternal soul
Gods perspective, our souls the priceless goal
It’s worth suggesting some thoughts
Instead of closing our minds
And refusing to even consider
That our God could be kind
Humans were given absolute choice
They can help or hurt with their voice
Choice whether to rescue the poor
Or barricade behind your door
If God intervened to stop every sin
Project humanity would lose its value
Created machines would have been fake
Rather He reasons let the good and the evil
Briefly decide which choices they make
But rest assured the flesh life is short
And the eternal life is long
And hasn’t God made us promises
That He will mend all that’s broken
So maybe it's just conceivable
God does not allow suffering at all
Local Countryside
Out there almost every single day
We were kids playing in the
hay
Someone set light to the stubble
Man, we were so in big trouble
All summer cricket in Pondside rec
So seriously we took it for young ones
Special stumps came from the wood lathe
The cricket square mown and painted
Picked and your total best you gave
Camping out was so simple back then
Nothing about permission or planning
Cider we’d gained and trying a cigarette
Fire, sausages and blackened bread
Then the stars and nature's glory
Conversations of goodness knows what
Oxygen and air and feeling so well
Back then little trouble to tell
New Year
Excused and removed
From what's real
You fly - Oh my
1000 feet in the sky
Freak out and cop out
At pops serving of fun
Leveled and peaceful
Cozy and numb
Jump up and barrier up
Next year? No fear!
Improve and disprove
The despicable and diabolical
Critics of thy truth
Driven back, vanquished
They stumble and struggle
Coz they're empty oh
Yes and bounded to fail
Hangovers and insincere regrets
Sobered and forced to step into
The survival of mine and your new year
Part Two
Cool
It’s near the top of the pile
Words on labels help
Similar cloth, can be easier
Reserved, but just won't do
Forbidden works of art
It won’t let people even start
Smoke will make you happy
Is one of its illusions
It borrows and buys cars
Loans that are hard to mend
And doesn't it feel great
When its briefly gained
Instantly refusing a good job
Cos it baulked and retched
Dedication to this golden calf
Which picks and chooses paths
This malady can sabotage
People's calm and charm
Is it worth paying these prices?
To ensure I look cool
Escapism
37 times I played that social media clip
It blotted and blocked the nagging drip
In truth the list of tasks within grasp
But its trepidation, waiting and fear
That drives to fit on that comedic mask
The one for all easy fix in a bottle
With its fleeting, empty guarantees
It recruits new cannon fodder daily
Been tricked and it spits out half lives
Of course it was fake escape
And more because ‘it’s the way I work’
Justifying and enabling pain creating wrongs
Others sickened agreement makes it easier
Rudimentary escapist philosophy then
That if bought into damages so long
Never saying here to kill the joy
By all means some wine and song
But if you recognise real and hear
Shake off the escapism with a courageous roar
So then honestly and genuinely fixed
Then escapisms preposterous gnaw, no more
You're not allowed
You’re not allowed to be too negative
Even if the facts warrant such as
Neither should you be too excited
Or jump up overly delighted
You can’t claim welfare, so what if
There’s no work or land access
Never mind if you’re old or sick
Yes, no experts here thanks
It’s expressly forbidden to talk about yourself
Even if, it’s life and you’re just saying
I demand you adopt a plastic persona
Supposed to be popular see
Others frown at you
Yet break their own unwritten social rules
Flee from ‘you’re not allowed’ as
It’s folly that will hurt and restrict you
Determine the daft but learn from the wise
And strike out in the world unafraid
Carving out your success
And never being put off by those
Screaming at you, to achieve failure
Social housing
Pregnant women smoking
Single dads joking
Claimants preferring working
Signed off sick hurting
Walking by the communal
But keeping the smiles frugal
Status gained any which way
Dogs keeping the pain away
You might get run over by a bus tomorrow
So stop preserving yourself in sorrow
Tattoos and baccy
Booze and feeling happy
Poor diet
But so what because life’s a riot
You’ve got brains
But pride is pulling your reins
Some of us playing it straight
Boy did they make us wait
Private housing can’t be reached
Should someone be impeached?
Christmas Day
Bubbling up with elation
Bounding in for the reunion
Comforted for the duration
The pain of the separation
Swept away for the moment
Quarrels and shouting
Old scores uncorked
The same battles re fought
Slumped back, was over keen
Green, bloated and mean
Money found any which way
Presents simply must be bought
A surge of effort for a special time
The best goods gathered up
Feast of feasts for King of Kings
Young creeping down the stairs
Toys fantastic and expectations met
Gorging orange and chocolate
Amongst the glitz and gild
Troubles on holiday, happy moods
Wise were called by starlight
Bringing gifts to Bethlehem
The first Christmas, Christ was born
Heralding rescue and peace
And He is like refiners fire
The Entrepreneur
Dormant ambition stirred
Easy payouts are deferred
Hope and courage adopted
Up the ladder of knowledge
Lost rungs negotiated
It’s time and you’re ready
You consider some heavy loans
But inside your sensibleness groans
People scoff, wince and grimace
Just who do you think you are?
Others are thoughtful and positive
Catching the vision and intent
You hold the course resolute
An independent business release
Low budget but live and real
Walking and then running
You harvest some coin
Job satisfaction set to maximum
Factory room 101 in distant past
Conventions smashed and gone
You did it!
Part Three
A we
ek in the life
Five pm forecast predicts a frost
So blanket on Fords windscreen
Arrived at work the usual 11 mins early
Free coffee and conservatory chit chat
I always heads down at 3 minutes to
A months frozen bread and milk
Defrosted at exacting and right moments
The homemade beers 78% cheaper
Every second Sunday, lunch guests
Rehearsed jokes and visitors book
Laminated camping list, same pitch
We’ve got friends there you see
Oh and how the oak tree shades you
Always books the same two weeks
If my other half can get em too
Bleach and clean Mondays
Mother on rotating Wednesdays
So we tend to stay in Thursdays
Radio Times with big circles
Columbo, Poirot and Jim Bergerac
Can call this boring or maybe smart?
Don’t let me laugh or poke fun
Cos these things I often do
Now I too, have the efficiency
Of the middle aged
The Conversation
The Angel:
“May the Lord arrest you
Hark, halt, evil’s damage”
The Demon:
“Hiss and spit, you really think I care?
I will squash and suffocate
Not relinquish, but relish in hate”
The Angel:
“Instructions He has given me
Violate my people at your peril
Says Him endless of days”
The Demon:
“I shall continue to bear false witness
You tell that to His Highness
I will keep destroying His people
Cheating and robbing the vulnerable
Opportunistic on the naive”
The Angel:
“Those are your words unholy one
Yet His pure paradise shall return”
The Demon:
“Paradise indeed
I will stop his people being freed”
The Angel:
“He can and will overpower you
Those decreed, shall indeed be free
Ultimately, the infernal will be burnt
So roam loosed for an age
Fallen servant of Yahweh
But punishment will befall you”
The Demon:
“Mention not my inevitable fate
For I dread that hellish date”
Fairground Day
A rumour going round school
The fairs due in town
A high counsel of children
