LOST LETTERS 2011 – READ FULL BOOK **FREE**

LOST LETTERS

2011

DEDICATED TO MY WIFE & DAUGHTERS

LIANNE

CHLOE

SHAYLEIGH

 

&

TO ALL MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS

ALSO IN LOVING MEMORY

NAN & GRANDAD

MARION

&

JOHN MOWLES

 

I HOPE I’VE MADE YOU PROUD

-X-

 

 

 

 

 

WITH SPECIAL THANKS TO INCLUDED POETS

CHLOE POOLE

SHAYLEIGH DUDSON

GARY MOWLES

SANTOSH AKHILESH

LONNIESHA “FLOETPOET” JACKSON

ANGEL MEREDITH

FIORDALIZA CHARLES

GARLAN JENKENS

SONJA BENSKIN MESHER

MARZANA ISLAM

CONNIE JANE TUCKER

BRIAN WRIXON

MICHELE BARON

TENDEKA MARLVIN NZIRA

SHIJAGURUMAYUM DONIL SHARMA

AMPAT VARGHESE KOSHY

SUSMA SHARMA GURUMAYUM

KEVIN M HIBSHMAN

VALENTINE CHIBUEZE

THORNNE E XAIVIANT

 

 

 

 

 

CONTENTS

  1. LOST LETTERS
  2. THE RAIN
  3. GOODBYE TO MY BEST FRIEND
  4. DESTINY TO WRITE
  5. MERRY CHRISTMAS
  6. LETTER FROM HEAVEN
  7. PRISONERS OF WAR – PART ONE
  8. PRISONER OF WAR – PART TWO
  9. WORLD TRADE – PART ONE
  10. WORLD TRADE – (DEAR DIARY) – PART TWO
  11. BABY GOODBYE
  12. MY ANGEL
  13. MAKE A CHANGE
  14. THE SHIP OF DREAMS
  15. EVEN ANGELS WILL FALL
  16. GRANDAD
  17. RE-VERSE
  18. LIFE
  19. STREETLIFE
  20. FALL IN L.O.V.E
  21. MOMENT IN TIME
  22. BEHIND MY SMILE
  23. CRASH – PART ONE
  24. CRASH – PART TWO
  25. JOURNEY INTO HEAVEN
  26. MARILYN MONROE – PART ONE
  27. MARILYN MONROE – PART TWO
  28. THE YOUTH OF TODAY
  29. KISS FROM MY CLOUD
  30. WORLD TRADE: FLIGHT 11
  31. REMEMBER MY NAME

 

  1. LITTLE SWEETHEART (BY CHLOE POOLE)
  2. A.D.H.D (BY SHAYLEIGH DUDSON)
  3. ACID TRIP TO NOWHERE MOOR (BY GARY MOWLES)
  4. CHOICES (BY SANTOSH AKHILESH)
  5. AS SHE SITS (BY LONNIESHA JACKSON)
  6. SOMETIMES (BY ANGEL MEREDITH)
  7. FED UP (BY FIORDALIZA CHARLES)
  8. HARBINGER (BY GARLAN JENKENS)
  9. THE RED COAT (BY SONJA BENSKIN MESHER)
  10. COME TO ME (BY MARZANA ISLAM)
  11. PAINTED MUSE (BY CONNIE JANE TUCKER)
  12. IN DREAMS (BY BRIAN WRIXON)
  13. BE (BY MICHELE BARON)
  14. MY DREAM (BY TENDEKA MARLVIN NZIRA)
  15. PHANTASM (BY SHIJAGURUMAYUM DONIL SHARMA)
  16. REASON (BY AMPAT VARGHESE KOSHY)
  17. NOT ANYMORE (BY SUSMA SHARMA GURUMAYUM)
  18. LETTER TO MOTHER (BY KEVIN M HIBSHMAN)
  19. I COULD BE HER ANGEL (BY VALENTINE CHIBUEZE)
  20. DESTINY’S PRAYER (BY THORNNE E XAIVIANT)

 

 

LOST LETTERS

A tear rolls down my cheek, as I rest this lost letter up against your gravestone;

As one door closes another one opens, but this time my angels whisper that I have to walk this path on my own.

I tore off my angel wings, exchanging them for more ink and just a little bit more time;

The silent stars once guided me to my destiny, but now the once bright lights are slowly starting to lose their shine.

My history has now been re-written, as these pages take a bow they try to soak up all of this praise;

But the pen and I are still searching for these lost letters, as we try desperately to escape from this maze.

People’s expectations in me are growing, as readers expect this next letter to somehow play with their emotion;

I once sent a message in a bottle, but I never had a reply, maybe my hope is still just bobbing around in that ocean.

I may not be the world’s greatest poet, but all I can do is simply try my best;

But self confidence isn’t something they can capture and sell, so maybe it’s time for me to just lay this pen down to rest.

Instead of reading my verses with pride, I spend my time trying to make this next sentence read just a little bit better;

Maybe I have been writing with invincible ink, as I am still just sat here searching for that lost letter.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

 

THE RAIN

Sometimes the sun can shine, but then within seconds the heavens can open and down falls the rain;

As the cold watery tears splash off your cheek, down comes the pain.

Tears of ink get dried up on this page after falling from the sky;

I sit with my hands covering over my face, as through my fingers drips a tear of ink, each time that I cry.

Sometimes hope can drain away, as your dreams can be forgotten each time that we close our eyes to sleep;

Sometimes the rain will still continual to fall, leaving you drowning in the deep.

Like a silent falling army gravity will always pull down your tears, leaving your soul as a puddle splashed down on the ground;

The rain can fall silently through the darkness, without even having to make a sound.

Silent shiny teardrops creep down the glass, as a broken reflection shines back through the window pane;

They say blood is thicker than water, but it’s now this ink which courses through my vein.

What comes up must come down;

But if you ever stop swimming, your destiny will be to drown.

The ink floods across this letter, leaving these pages damp;

The rain will always seem to fall, right after your heart has sank.

Ink filled dreams can weigh you down, until you begin to buckle under the strain;

Sometimes you can beg the heavens for an answer, but your only reply evaporates with the rain.

 

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

 

GOODBYE TO MY BEST FRIEND

My grievance councillor just advised me to try and write down my feelings, even though I still have no clue how it will end;

I feel so lost and alone in this world, as I just had to say

Goodbye to my best friend.

I am told writing can expel your demons, but where to begin, I guess the best place would be the start;

I have just learnt that life can be so cruel sometimes, as in my chest beats a fragile broken heart.

I close my eyes as this pen hits the page, memories rewinding backwards printing the bigger picture of my life;

The flashing stops on the summer of ’95, the very first time I met the angel who would be my future wife.

I remember staring across the dance floor, as her smile convinced me to believe in love at first sight;

From that very moment my life changed, I had finally caught my guiding light.

After a whirlwind romance we were married in the following July;

Tears are falling from my eyes as I write this, as I am once again reminded of our goodbye.

Years spent together, two halves now glued forever as one;

Each morning our love was reignited, as we sat holding hands watching the rising sun.

She was my inspiration, my entire world, she simply completed my reflection;

If my past had left me for dead,

Then she was responsible for my resurrection.

Each day the skies are still illuminated, but the sun has simply lost its shine;

I no longer have a use for my calendar or watch, as I have lost all sense of time.

It is no comfort knowing that you are now sitting in the arms of an angel, as I selfishly only care about you being here with me;

Counselling doesn’t seem to be helping, as people explain grief is a lock and I have to somehow use this pen as the key.

We didn’t even get a second chance of happiness, as one night you were here then the next I was alone;

I sat crying on the floor constantly ringing your mobile, as all I kept listening to was the voice mail message you had left on your phone.

Why on that day didn’t I break our routine, all it would have taken was the smallest change in our daily pattern;

          But as always you left for work at 07:30, on Tuesday the 11th of September 2001, as the sun rose across our home in lower Manhattan.

 

If I knew then what your destiny had in store for you I would have held you back, I would have grabbed your legs as you dragged me across the ground;

But instead you kissed me whilst whispering your goodbye, as through our house still echoes out your last sound.

It was my first day off work in weeks so I relaxed with a book in our rooftop garden, I was reading about a poet from the U.K who had a

 Destiny to write;

Just then I got a text from my wife, I remember it read,

“HI DARLING, GOT TO WORK OKAY, I CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN TONIGHT”.

From my garden I can see her office, sat up high on the 94th floor of the world trades north facing tower;

Just as I was about to text my reply, a huge plane roared over my head so loud it made me drop my phone and cower.

My heart drops along with my tears, as I watch the plane move closer towards my love I beg helplessly to skies “NO PLEASE”;

But before I could finish that prayer the plane smashes straight into my wife’s floor, as an overwhelming explosion of heartbreak brings me crashing to my knees.

Through my petrified teary eyes I see the thick black smoke filled with dreams, drift up and into heaven;

To me it was the day part of me died, but to you all it’s now known simply as 9/11.

My grievance councillor advised me to try and write down my feelings, but as I enter this last verse my grief is no closer to the end;

I still feel so lost and alone in this world, but no words can ever bring her back, so maybe I should just be writing

Goodbye to my best friend.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

DESTINY TO WRITE

 

Since you were a child your nightmares have shaken you, leaving you left shivering through the night;

You use to wake and write them down sealing them in pen, your poetry became your only guiding light.

 

It was your journals to start with logging each emotion you ever use to feel;

Then that turned into this poetry your now reading, creating words as strong as solid steel.

 

At times things seemed impossible, the books have witnessed them all;

They have been by your side through battles, and they have helped pick you up from your fall.

 

I remember lying in hell, total darkness with nothing and nobody, all I had was paper and this pen;

It got me through my darkest hours, when boys have to grow up to become men.

 

You have used this pen to make all of your dreams come true;

You have books upon books of memories, a whole lifetime entitled the destiny of you

 

The battle is now over, the war has been won and you no longer have to fight;

You have finally found your way through the darkness and realised, it was your destiny to write.

 

 

 

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

MERRY CHRISTMAS

I’m all hugged up under my big Spiderman duvet, I can’t sleep as its Christmas eve, I don’t know the time cause I can’t even read;

My big Sister whispers from the bottom bunk “let’s go see the presents, hold my hand and I will take the lead”

We creep hand in hand down the stairs and make our way to the big red door;

But when my Sister turned the handle and it opened, it wasn’t Father Christmas that my Sister and I saw.

It was Mummy and Daddy, Daddy was making Mummy cry;

He kept smacking her in the face as he screamed out that he wanted her to die.

Daddy looked like a huge bear, his face was red his hair was wet;

I felt my Sisters hand shaking in mine, but Daddy hadn’t noticed us standing there yet.

Daddy slaps and punches Mummy until I see blood and her eyes just roll away;

She slumps to the ground in a heap, as I scream out “MUMMY I LOVE YOU, PLEASE GET UP AND SAY THAT YOU ARE OKAY”.

Daddy’s face turns, but his so big I can’t even see;

Before I know it my Sisters lying on her back, as Daddy then lays his fists into me.

He has punched me in the eye and nose, there’s so much blood I couldn’t even see;

My older Sister is screaming for help, she’s crying out “PLEASE, PLEASE PROTECT ME”.

 Through the blood I see my Daddy kicking my big Sister, as his fists beat down so hard on to my eye;

I am only 5 years old but I was so afraid that me and my Sister were about to die.

This next bit makes me shiver to remember but a struggle that I’ve had to bare;

My Daddy smacks us both till were standing up, then drags us upstairs by our fucking hair.

He throws us onto his bed, I cuddle up to my older Sister as we both shake in fear;

I look into my Sisters eyes, she’s petrified and blood has now replaced her tear.

My Daddy takes off his belt, it had a huge silver Harley Davidson buckle, I pray he doesn’t use that end, I mean I pray, I beg, I wish, but none of it helps, the buckle smashes me straight into my back and knocks me flying;

My Sister starts to scream as we hear our Mum banging on the locked bedroom door crying.

Daddy ignores our screams and he doesn’t seem to hear our Mum banging at the door;

Then he smashes the buckle into my Sisters face and she fly’s down to meet me on the bedroom floor.

 

 

We scurry under the bed to just get away;

My Mum’s still screaming and banging, I pray that she is going to save the day.

Daddy’s arms run under the bed trying to get me and my Sister out, we both cry for forgiveness we even try to beg;

Then my Sister screams out so loud, as my Daddy grabs a hold of her leg.

Daddy pulls and pulls, I hold my Sisters arms back, my Sister digs her nails into the carpet, she’s trying everything to keep out of harm’s way;

Then she starts to scream again, as I watch her finger nails just bend and completely tear away.

I grab her hands, we lock eyes once more, she’s crying, she’s praying, I just wanted to get her out of there;

I remember all I could think is its Christmas morning and she’s only 7 years old, why is life so unfair.

Just then I hear a huge bang, Mummy shouting and Daddy just lets go, we hear them running down the stairs and a car screeching away;

Then I hear nothing but silence, I’m shaking, but I turn to my big Sister to check that she is okay.

We hear someone walking up the stairs, my Sister cuddles me, so scared with who it might be;

Then someone kneels down and smiles, were saved it’s our beautiful Mummy.

We both crawl out from under the bed as she cries and wraps her arms around us, her lips tremble out “I am so sorry all that was meant for me”;

I look past all her blood, tears and pain and kiss her on the cheek, as I whisper out “Happy Christmas Mummy”.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

LETTER FROM HEAVEN

I met my wife to be back in the year of 1941;

I had just come back from Normandy, you were assigned to be my nurse, after I was shot down by that Germans Lugar gun.

You nursed me back to health by simply using your smile;

We use to walk and talk for ages, holding each other’s hands, each and every single mile.

The War still rages as my calendar hits 1944, that is until mankind released Hiroshima’s atom bomb;

I maybe an English lion, but thinking to the future, I can only see that ending as wrong.

1945, the war has finished, we move back to the country, and we got married in the month of September;

Thinking back now as an old grey man, we made memories that year, memories that an eternity will remember.

Its 1962 now, my beautiful wife has just given birth to my first son, we are complete just watching him grow;

Today a famous actress died, Norma Jeane Baker, or I say Marilyn Monroe.

 

1963 Is a year I would rather forget, my tears still fall as I remember it was the year my baby boy caught a rare illness and tragically passed away;

It rocked our lives and part of me died that year, it was on the same month a mystery man shot JFK.

The year passed, my wife fights her night terrors, which soaked our sheets in fear;

I would lay awake all night, stroking her hair and wiping away her tear.

 

1964 was mostly spent walking hand in hand on the beach, making each other smile, which makes me feel so alive;

We sit in the Café for coffee, whilst a black and white TV shows us a new Motown group, named the Jackson 5.

In 1965 our leader and icon Winston Churchill dies as my reflection shows me a man starting to get grey;

My wife still looks so beautiful, she can brighten up any darkened day.

Today our fellows across the pond landed on the moon;

My skin is starting to feel wrinkly, in fact my face now represents a prune.

The next 10 years are spent living like we were living in a fairy tale;

My wife and I are soul partners, a team which could never fail.

1977 as the king of rock dies, a film called Star Wars hits the silver screen;

I adore my wife with all my heart, even after all these years, she is still the prettiest lady the world has ever seen.

Its 1980, the news bulletins ring out John Lennon has died, shot whilst his poor wife was a witness to see;

In 1981 another true musical legend passes away from Cancer, this time it’s the charismatic Bob Marley.

My wife is flicking through the holiday brochures in 1986, her dream has always been to go on a Caribbean cruise;

I say “maybe next year my dear, then we will have more money to choose”.

If I had only known time waits for no man, as my life crashes down in 1987;

My beautiful wife had caught the Cancer, and now she lives as an angel up in heaven.

The year lasted forever, making just one cup of tea, sometimes I forget and keep making you breakfast in an empty bed;

How can I say goodbye to my life, I just wish it was me who was dead.

I try to ease my pain by walking by the sea;

I reach out my hand to hold yours, but I am alone, our past has become just a distant memory.

Your side of the bed is empty, your clothes all hung up nice and neat;

I feel only half the man I use to be, I guess the word would be incomplete.

Sat there is an empty chair, every time I glance over my heart starts to fall;

Its 1989 now, the year which means the collapse of the Berlin wall.

 

When I stroll along the beach now it’s so quiet, no sound apart from the waves crashing down in the sea;

I sit in the same café we used to have coffee, but this time they have a colour TV.

Our house is dead quiet now, night times are the worse, and there is just too much space in our double bed;

My dreams replay our entire lifetime, and echo out the last words that you and I had said.

You told me that you loved me, I replied that “I love you to”;

Then you closed your eyes for the last time, as I reached over to give my goodbye kiss to you.

The reflection in the mirror now shows me a broken grey man who always feels the cold;

Its 1995 now, it’s my birthday today, I am 82 years old.

The years are spent alone now, no New Year’s Eve parties as Big Ben welcomes in 1997;

 This is the year Princess Diana passed away, I hope she is at peace now along with my wife and son, watching over us from heaven.

The winter of 98 seemed be stuck in a winter freeze, which felt like it would never end;

I feel the warmth of angels, with messages of my wife they send.

I dream of my wife each time I fall asleep, if I’m honest I don’t want to ever wake up from my dream;

I can even see heaven, it’s the most wondrous sight my eyes have ever seen.

Its new years eve of 99, my pulse starts to fade as my chest feels real tight;

I feel myself drifting away, towards a glowing guiding light.

 

I see my Wife, her eyes melt me back into two;

I whisper “I am coming my love”, you reply “we have been waiting for you”.

My time on this world is over, my autopsy will read, time of death 11:11;

I have to leave you all now, as I finish writing you my goodbye letter from heaven.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

PRISONERS OF WAR

(PART 1)

It’s the 14th of May 1942, I just found a pencil and a dirty piece of paper lying on the floor;

Everyone is crying, whilst Daddy whispers to my distraught Mummy “we are just prisoners of war”.

It’s so cold my feet seem to be soaked with red;

My Daddy covers my ears with his hands, everybody is screaming so loud asking if their families are dead.

It’s so dark, through the wooden walls I see soldiers all dressed up in there army outfits;

A security light scans across the yard illuminating a sign at the gates, reading Auschwitz.

The door flies open, taking out the youngest children, they didn’t see me as I was hiding behind my Daddy’s leg;

A stern faced soldier pulls a baby from crying ladies arms, as she drops to her knees to beg.

But the soldier turns away, the babies and children leaving their parents without so much as a goodbye hug;

Through a gap in the wooden walls I see loads of empty holes in the ground, which have already been dug.

Through the wooden slates I watch as the demons pick up the babies by their tiny legs, smashing their innocent skulls against a wall made from brick;

The tiny bodies are then just tossed into an open grave, as I turn away feeling sick.

I must have fallen asleep, I remember dreaming of home, feeling the grass beneath my feet as I run;

My reality hits home as my eyes open, I’m lying on my Daddy’s lap, feeling the warmth through a gap in the walls from the sun.

Daylight changes nothing, except maybe my point of view;

Daddy is stroking my hair as he whispers in my ear “I am so sorry I couldn’t make all of your dreams come true”.

It’s the first time I’ve ever seen my parents cry, this cold floor seems to be flooded with everybody’s tears;

We hear choking screams and banging coming from another building, as Daddy once again puts his hands over to cover my ears.

After a few minutes the banging stops, as did the screams, silence then fell across the camp;

We all watch on as the bodies are dragged out of the building, my tears fell as my heart sank.

 

I see the soldiers lining up dozens of men and women back to back over a huge hole, their hands and feet tied together with wire;

Each soldier then picks up his gun, takes aim, and then in turn they all begin to fire.

Screams and gunshots sound out echoing through my head;

The soldiers calmly put down their weapons, kicking the bodies into the waiting hole, but some of them poor people aren’t even dead.

One soldier lights a flaming torch, igniting the bodies as smoke fills the sky;

With this pen I send a prayer to god “please don’t let this be the day that I die”.

The door to our hut swings open, a group of soldiers shouting that we need to strip naked for showers, after which they promise us all a hot drink;

My Mummy and Daddy hold me close, but as we are marched naked into the other building my heart begins to sink.

We are being told to walk forwards, as we enter, the door slams shut behind us, Daddy picks me up and holds my Mummy’s hand;

As we walk further into the building I realise there are no showers in here, just huge tubes on the ceiling, I really don’t understand.

A strange smell is starting to fill the room, my Mummy and Daddy cuddle me against a wall as everyone starts to scream, banging on the windows and locked door;

Some people are coughing up blood, and crashing down on to the floor.

My Mummy’s tears have turned blood red as we all begin to once again cry;

My Daddy has just kissed my forehead as he whispers to me “I’m so sorry but this is goodbye”.

I glance up, shaking Daddy “please wake up”, but he just slumps down to the ground;

Blood starts dripping from my eyes as I shake my Mummy, but even she doesn’t make a single sound.

Everything is quiet now, my eyes are closed so I cannot see the words that I write;

I feel my body is drifting away, it has lost its will to fight.

Everything is so dark, images of my life are flashing me by;

With my last ounce of power I cuddle up to my Mummy and Daddy, as I whisper out to them “Goodbye”.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

PRISONERS 2 WAR

(PART 2)

It’s the 14th of May 1942, my daughter is writing, so I take off my jacket and sit next to her on the concrete floor;

I try to comfort her, everyone is crying as I whisper to my Wife “we are just prisoners of war”.

It’s so cold, so I cuddle my beautiful family, tonight they will have to use my shoulders for their bed;

I cover my Daughters ears with my hands, as everyone is screaming out so loud, asking if their families are dead.

It’s getting dark, I cuddle my Wife as we watch our beautiful Daughter peaking through a gap in the wooden walls whilst writing, using my matches for a lamp;

This morning we were free, but tonight our home has turned into the Auschwitz concentration camp.

I jump up hiding my Daughter behind my legs as the door flies open, soldiers pulling out the youngest children without them even saying their goodbye;

One soldier pulls a baby from screaming ladies arms, as she drops to her knees to cry.

The soldiers slam the door locking it tight, as I glance behind me and give my shivering Daughter a hug;

She whispers in my ear “Daddy, why are there empty holes in the ground outside, that have already been dug”.

My Wife starts to get hysterical, I hold her tightly, kiss her on the forehead, she cries out “why is life so cruel and unfair”;

Just then my Daughter turns around feeling sick, I rub her back and hold back her hair.

My Daughter and Wife fall asleep in my arms, I stay awake all night, thinking maybe there was more I could have done;

My little family awakes, as we see the light piercing through a gap in the wooden slates from the sun.

I feel like crying, breaking down but as I look at my Daughter I think I must somehow stay strong for you;

I stroke her pretty brown hair, as I whisper in her ear “I am so sorry I couldn’t make all of your dreams come true”.

My Wife starts to cry as she kisses us both, I couldn’t hold back my tears;

Then we hear banging and screaming coming from the next building, so I once again put my hands over, to cover my Daughter’s ears.

We all listened in silence, after a few minutes the screams died, until we realized what all of the banging was about;

We all watch on through the gaps in the walls, as in turn each soldier drags yet another dead body out.

We stare in disbelief as the soldiers line up dozens of elderly Husbands and Wives back to back, their hands and feet bound together with wire;

The hairs on my neck stand on end, as each soldier picks up their riffle, takes aim, then in turn they all begin to fire.

Just then our hut door swings open, the soldiers from before are back, shouting we all need to strip naked for showers, after which they promise us all a hot drink;

I pick up my Daughter and hold my Wife’s hand, there is so much crying and shouting, I couldn’t even think.

A soldier shouts for us all to walk forwards, the door slams shut behind us, I pick up my Daughter again and hold tighter on my Wife’s hand;

As we walk further into the building and see no showers, just fans on the ceiling, it dawns on me what the soldiers have planned.

I start to smell gas, my Wife and I cuddle our shaking Daughter in the corner, as everybody starts to scream, banging on the windows and locked door;

I try to cover my Daughter’s eyes, as people are coughing up blood and crashing down on to the cold concrete floor.

I kiss my Wife and tell her I love her, I see tears of blood as we cry;

I kiss my beautiful Daughter’s forehead, as I whisper out to her “I am so sorry my child, but this is goodbye”.

Everything then goes black, the last memory I have is hearing my Daughter cry;

I found a piece of paper and a pencil in heaven, so I thought I would write you this letter from the sky.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

WORLD TRADE 9/11

(PART 1)

The plane touches down at J.F.K, where we are greeted by the sun;

It’s the first day of our vacation, the date is Monday the 10th of September, 2001.

We drop our suitcases at the hotel, before heading straight out to sight see;

I hold my girlfriends hand as we walk, she has no idea tomorrow I will ask her to marry me.

I’m thinking for the ideal destination to ask her, an unforgettable proposal to sweep her off her feet;

Then it comes to me as I glance up towards the heavens, and see the World Trade centre’s standing proud, at the bottom of the street.

I say in the morning we will go to the top and watch the sun as it rises into the sky;

She kisses me gently whispering “that would be a dream come true”, as I watch her eyes fill up to cry.

Back at the hotel, I quickly hide the engagement ring in my bag before she walks back out of the bathroom, turning out the light;

We lay in each other’s arms until she falls asleep, I kiss her on the forehead and say “I love you baby, goodnight”.

I’m awake before my alarm sounds, nerves are over-whelming my heart;

Today is Tuesday the 11th of September 2001, today is a new beginning, a brand new start.

Its 8:30am when we make our way out the hotel and to the bottom of the World Trade;

The sun is shining so brightly, this is the day dreams could be made.

It dawns on me, in the rush I left the engagement ring back in our hotel room;

I tell my beautiful girlfriend “I’ve forgotten something, you make your way to the top and I will catch you up real soon”.

I run as fast as my legs will go, I pick up the ring, and glance at my watch, the time now is 9 ‘o clock;

I make it back outside and smile, as I see the World Trade centre’s shining at the end of our block.

 

As I make my way down the street I run through in my mind how I will propose and declare my undying love;

My thoughts are disrupted, as I glance up to see a huge plane flying really low in the blue skies above.

Time then moved in slow motion as my heart seemed to be drained of all of its power;

I watch on helplessly as the plane flies directly into the World Trades North facing tower.

Screams are coming from the building as smoke and flames lick up at the skies;

The roof top where my girlfriend will be waiting is surrounded in black smoke, as sirens sound on the streets, drowning out their cries.

I make it to ground zero, the police push me back, pieces of the building are falling all around me, as everyone starts to cower;

Police officers hold me down facing the skies, as another plane crashes into the second World Trade tower.

Panic sets in, even the emergency services look petrified, and nobody knows just what is going to happen;

I over hear fire fighters say they cannot reach the top floors, as smoke blocks out the sun in lower Manhattan.

 

People are hanging out of the windows screaming, everyone is being pushed back as bodies start to fall from the sky;

Those poor souls chose to jump, instead of staying up there in the black clouds to die.

 

Fire fighters tell me there is no way to the top, a dead tone is all I get when I try to call my girlfriends phone;

I feel so helpless standing here, as I think she is up there dying all on her own.

Everyone starts to run as the South tower starts to crumble, but I didn’t know which way to turn;

The building crashes to the ground in a cloud of dust, as the first tower still continues to burn.

I open my eyes, the air is thick with dust, and it seems to be chasing people down the street;

The force of the collapse was so immense it knocks us all straight off of our feet.

I squint my eye’s through the ash just in time to watch as the North tower comes crashing down onto my dream;

Its falling confirms my worst nightmare, my love is dead, and all I could do was scream.

Everyone is still running away, but I’m running back towards the mass of rubble, fumbling blind through the smoke;

I put my hand over my mouth, coughing, this ash is causing me to choke.

I drop to my knees as I find what was the top of the North tower, all that’s left Is the stars and stripes of America’s flag;

I remember I still have my girlfriends engagement ring, safely stored away in my bag.

The diamond sparkles, as I lay back trying to look through the ash so that I can see the sun;

This date will now never be forgotten,

 Tuesday the 11th of September, 2001.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

 

WORLD TRADE 2

(PART 2…DEAR DIARY)

I hold my boyfriend’s hand real tight as the plane bounce’s down onto the runway at J.F.K;

It’s the 10th of September 2001, which means the beginning of my very first New York holiday.

Our hotel is amazing, but I hear the shops on Fifth Avenue calling me;

I love my boyfriend so much, at last I have found my destiny.

We walk hand in hand in the sun, until shadows make us stare into the skies above;

The World Trade Centre’s tower over us, as I hug my boyfriend tightly, dear diary I am so in love.

My boyfriend whispers “in the morning we will go to the top of the World Trade, and watch the sun rising into the sky”;

I kiss him gently and say “that would be a dream come true” and my eyes fill up to cry.

We make it back to the hotel, I relax in the Jacuzzi bath, before going to bed and turning out the light;

I lay in my boyfriend’s arms falling asleep, as I feel him kiss my forehead whispering to me “goodnight”.

My eyes open, I am so excited as through the curtains I see the rising sun;

Dear diary, today is Tuesday the 11th of September, 2001.

By half past eight we are walking down the block, making our way to the bottom of the World Trade;

The sun is shining so brightly, this is the sort of day that dreams are made.

Just as we are about to enter the World Trade Centre my boyfriend panics, his left something back in our hotel room;

He says “I have to go and get it baby, you make your way to the top and I will catch you up real soon”.

I kiss him on the cheek, as I tell him to hurry up, he smiles and says “I will darling, see you later”;

I slowly make my way through the North towers lobby, and enter the closest elevator.

After what seemed an eternity the lift door opens, and I make my way to the top of the tower;

I glance at my watch wondering where my boyfriend has got to, he has been gone almost half an hour.

The view takes my breath away, I close my eyes and feel the wind brushing through my hair;

I walk towards the barrier to try and see my boyfriend, but the people look just like little ants crawling all the way down there.

As I take in the view I notice a plane flying really low, in fact it’s heading right this way;

Fear freezes me to the spot, my legs wouldn’t move, I couldn’t even try to run away.

I stare petrified as I watch the plane come so close, an image that seemed so surreal, it felt like a never ending dream;

I thought the plane would turn at the last second but it didn’t, and all I could do was scream.

The impact rocked the tower, knocking me back straight off of my feet;

Even from all the way up here, I could hear screaming and shouting from down there on the street.

 

I try to crawl away as everyone on the roof top is screaming, I call out to my boyfriend, I’m praying that he made it up here okay;

Thick black smoke starts to engulf the roof, blocking out sunlight from the day.

I make it to the elevator, hitting the button, but the doors never open;

Flames and smoke cover the broken stairwell, as I crawl back to the roof top choking.

I can make out the sound of sirens from down below, but the noise is faint, being drowned out by thousands of peoples cries;

I make it back to the barrier, just in time to watch another plane crash into the opposite tower, after falling from the skies.

I scream out for my boyfriend, I pray, I beg for him to come and tell me that everything is going to be alright;

But no one answers my calls, as I crouch down on the ground choking, the smoke is so black I couldn’t tell if it was the day or the night.

Through the smoke I see people standing on the edge, waving their arms, I scream as someone decides to jump from the skies;

I watch as a woman holds her baby in her arms, trying to calm her child as she cries.

I hear a massive rumble like an earthquake, through the smoke I see the second tower smash down to the streets in lower Manhattan;

I realize I am going to die, as I break down into tears screaming “why did this have to happen”.

I lay back, and through the smoke I can just about make out the blue of the sky;

Through my prayers I say goodbye to my family and boyfriend, as I cover my face with my hands and cry.

The floor starts collapsing, my body begins its long fall towards the ground, as my soul rises up into heaven;

I am writing this letter from the skies, dedicated to all the fallen souls who passed away during 9/11.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

BABY, GOODBYE

It’s the 9th of April 1980, it’s our anniversary today, married for 37 years;

The juke box plays out our wedding song, I hold my Wife’s hand and kiss away her happy tears.

We go to the same restaurant down the lane, as we did all those years ago;

The candles light up my beautiful Wife’s face, shining such an amazing glow.

I clasp her hand as I whisper “even after all these years, I am still in love with you”;

Her eyes light up, as her smile replies “o sweetheart, I’m still in love with you to”.

I open my Wife’s car door for her, before I sit myself behind the wheel;

Its wonderful how floating like a butterfly, can really make you feel.

Driving home in the dark, when I see two bright lights come speeding my way;

I swerve to avoid a collision, before a flashing light turns the night back in to the day.

I must have passed out, as I come around I am laying in my bed at home;

I hear my Wife downstairs crying, as she speaks to her Mother on the phone.

I sit by my Wife holding her hand, but she just pulls it away;

It’s so cold in here, I can see her breath, even though it’s the middle of the day.

She gets up walking past me, like I am not even there;

She has our wedding photos spread across the kitchen table,

 there are pictures of me everywhere.

I walk back into our bedroom, to find my Wife cuddled up in my dressing gown, on my side of the bed, watching our wedding DVD;

As I sit down next to her she whispers, “I am so sorry I couldn’t change your destiny”.

I put my arm around her, kiss her gently, as she turns out the bedside light;

I see tears roll down her cheek from behind her closed eyes, as she whispers out “baby goodnight”.

The sun rises upon on a new day, as ringing wakes us, it’s her Mother back on the phone;

My Wife starts crying again, as she whimpers out “I don’t want to be alone”.

She creeps slowly downstairs, making just one cup of tea;

I sit down next to her asking her “what’s wrong”, but she won’t even look up at me.

Whilst looking at my picture on the table she whispers, “Baby I miss you so very much”;

I try to calm her down by stroking her hair, but it seems like she cannot even feel my touch.

She walks around dressed in black, a veil to catch her tears as they cry;

I’m standing by the front door, as she glances back, whispering “goodbye”.

As the car pulls away I run after her, she doesn’t look back once through the rear viewing window screen;

I chase them for miles, until they reach the crematorium, this is all starting to feel like a dream.

I walk through the chapel, as my Wife sits crying on the front row;

Sitting next to her is my Mother, then Brother and finally at the end, sits my Uncle Joe.

I don’t understand what is going on, so I walk up to the coffin to see;

My heart stops, the church goes cold, as the name on the casket reads “ME”.

My life flashes past, as memories replay up until the moment that I passed away;

I turn to see my beautiful Wife, whose eyes seem to be looking over my way.

A bright light appears, piercing through the roof, revelling a stairway to the sky;

The light draws me closer, I blow a kiss towards my Wife, as I whisper out “baby goodbye”.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

MY ANGEL

Our eyes are never closed, it’s our eye lids that drop like a goodnight curtain call;

In every mans shadow stands an angel, holding out a hand to stop you from your fall.

It was only my angel who pulled me back from the brink;

She reached down and saved me, as I was drowning in this ink.

I write so many letters, words from the heart, so that my future family will never have to miss me;

I just want people to remember my name when I’m gone, saving me a place in history.

I keep swimming, but my doubters are under the waves trying to drag me down;

But their hatred keeps me moving forwards, my destiny isn’t for me to drown.

This pen moves without me knowing the next word that I am going to read;

I close my eyes as my angel takes over my hand, and this pen begins to bleed.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

MAKE A CHANGE

It’s time we made a change, and that change had better start off with me;

The skies are getting warmer, the ice caps are melting, causing rising in the sea.

Endangered animals we take for granted, will pretty soon disappear forever from the wild;

I just hope we can look at ourselves when we hear our children, tell that to their future grandchild.

Technology has built computers, robots and even put men on the moon;

But we still have starvation in the world, and a cure for Cancer doesn’t seem to be appearing anytime soon.

Global warming heats our planet, but we don’t have a spare one sitting in reserve;

We cut down rain forests without ever stopping to think, of all of the animals that we may disturb.

 

People fight in wars, when surely they should just be grateful to be alive;

Governments around the world filling their pockets, with that pathetic excuse, they have tried.

Fossil fuels are running out, disappeared completely by the year 2080;

Earthquakes still leave thousands homeless, in the Caribbean side of Haiti.

They say Nasa is looking for another planet in the galaxy, for us to destroy;

But we aren’t playing marbles, this is our children’s lives, not just some replaceable toy.

Terrorism haunts our daily lives, just look at the London bombings, and ask the U.S.A;

Al Qaeda threatens a world, as did the I.R.A

The cold streets of our cities are littered with the homeless, who have no place left to go;

Perhaps a little love, is all that we need to show.

 

Forest fires burn America, as violent tornadoes teach houses how to fly;

I imagine God isn’t too happy, if he is watching over us from the sky.

Our world is breaking beneath our feet, simply because we do not show enough care;

It’s our children’s children I feel sorry for, a broken planet we leave you, and that just seems to be so unfair.

Dolphins caught in nets, Sharks and Whales hunted to extinction from our sea;

Life isn’t a cage, life means to live free.

Are we facing the end, or will God set up some sort of exchange;

Actions speak louder than words, it’s time now to make a change.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

THE SHIP OF DREAMS

 

Its Wednesday the 10th of April 1912, I hold my Son’s hand as crowds of passengers are acting all frantic;

My Son and I stand quietly at the waterfront, waiting patiently to board Titanic.

Today is a new beginning, the first day of our new life;

Last week my Son had to say goodbye to his Mother, whilst I had to say goodbye to my Wife.

In my hand I hold three tickets, but only two of us are here today;

Her fever got higher and higher, until one morning I kissed her goodbye, just as she passed away.

As we walk up the ramp boarding the ship, my Son turns around whispering “Mummy, I will miss you, I hope you like your new home in the sky”;

Just then floating past us, was the most beautiful butterfly.

Hustling and bustling through the hallways, finding our cabin way down on the decks below;

We hear a loud horn blast three times, which means it’s time for us to go.

My Son looks sad, sat on the bed, his bottom lip trembling as his eyes drop a single sorry tear;

I kneel down in front of him whispering “what’s a matter Son”, he replies “I just wish that my Mum was here”.

 

I hug him as tears fill my eyes, but I promised myself to never let him see me cry;

I swallow the lump in my throat, as I tremble out “I know Son, and so do I”.

We walk up on deck, everyone is waving goodbye to their loved ones, and the air is filled with excited whistling screams;

I pick up my Son and say “make a wish and it will come true, as we are board the ship of dreams”.

He closes his eyes tight, before opening them back up saying “done”, I ask him what he wished for, a new bike or to live forever;

He just shakes his head and says “nope”, I just wished that me, you and Mum, where all back together”.

The days are spent teaching my Son the gift of how to read and write;

As the sunsets over the horizon, I would lay awake, whilst the ship cuts through the waves at night.

I was writing in my journal in the middle of the night, when a crunching, crashing noise makes my pen slip from the page, I can hear shouting coming from the deck up top;

Shudders rumble through the decks, and then the engines stop.

My Son sits up in his bed, rubbing his eyes with both hands, asking why people were shouting from the upper deck;

I tell him to lie back down, whilst I go up top to check.

Whispers echo through the hallways, the unsinkable ship is going down, after crashing into a berg made from ice;

I can’t believe what I am hearing, so I have to ask them twice.

I run up to a group of white star cabin crew, asking them what’s gone wrong;

They say “just make your way back to your cabin, and put your life jacket on”.

I run back to my cabin, my Son is looking so scared, I say “we need to get up on deck and find a life boat”;

I try to talk calmly, but it’s so hard when you have a lump in your throat.

I put my life jacket around my Son, pick him up and rush through the hallways, where we are greeted by a crowd of passengers, all shouting behind a locked gate;

The crew members all shouting for us to stay calm down here, strangers are now in control of our fate.

After hours of pushing, screaming and shouting, all the trapped passengers overwhelm the hallways, pushing forward, causing the gate to fall;

People start to scream, as we see the water come trickling down our hall.

The door crashes open to the fresh air, people running and screaming as all the life boats have gone, full of the rich, leaving all of the poor;

People are panicking, pushing children over, and just leaving them to cry alone on the wooden floor.

I kneel down in front of my Son, and as I tighten up his life belt our eyes lock, his blue lips tremble “Daddy, what are we going to do”;

I hold him tightly and whisper “no matter what, I promise I will never let go of you”.

Waves start to break over the front of the ship, making their way up to the hundreds of people praying;

There is no place to run, as my Son asks “Dad, why are all the musicians still playing”.

The waves are getting closer, we keep backing away, but on a ship there are only so many places to hide;

The front of the ship disappears into the sea, as I crouch down protecting my Son as he cried.

 

Titanic starts to sink to the depths, causing the rear of the ship to soar high into the sky;

I try to hold on to the barrier, as my Son screams out “Daddy, please don’t let go of me, I don’t want to die”.

We slide down, splashing into the freezing waves, as we face the stars, looking up at the rear of the ship, sitting upright hundreds of feet in the air;

I grab my Sons life jacket as I swim, pulling him into the darkness, until the skies light up from another red flare.

All the lights go out, leaving my Son bobbing in the darkness whilst I tread water, trying to keep my head from a watery grave;

Whistles and screams echo out, hundreds of people splashing in the darkness, each have a dream to save.

Rumbling splashing noises drown out our cries, as the ship of dreams sinks to the bottom of the Atlantic Sea;

I try to hug up to my Son as he cries out, “Daddy I’m so scared, please don’t leave me”.

It’s so cold, I can’t feel my legs, my Son has stopped crying, as he looks towards the night sky;

His purple lips tremble out “look Daddy, I can see a butterfly”.

I hold him close as I tremble out “no matter what happens, I will not let you go, not now, not ever”;

His head doesn’t stop facing the stars as he whispers, “Daddy my wish is coming true, me, you and Mummy are all going to be back together”.

Tears fall from my eyes, as I cry “Son please don’t say that, we are going to be alright”;

 No reply leaves his lips, as darkness descends across my night.

 

I hold him tightly, shouting “please Son wake up”, his freezing body just bobs in the water, as his head falls back further to face the sky;

I hold him tighter, begging him to wake up, as I break into tears and cry.

I can’t hold on any longer, but I promised my Son I would never let him go;

My hands tremble, as I take off his life jacket, I kiss him gently on the cheek, as we sink down beneath the waves below.

The stars become a blur underneath the waves, I close my eyes, as the water turns into clouds, I see my Son and Wife walking towards me, as I drop to my knees to cry;

My Son whispers “Daddy my wish did come true”, as I finish writing you this letter, from my new home in the sky.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

EVEN ANGELS WILL FALL

 

Sometimes you have to realize that even angels will fall;

If my life was a movie set, the director would be shouting “That’s a wrap”, as it time for my curtain call.

The words have been written, sealed for an eternity to read;

Ink has taken over my soul, which leaks out when I bleed.

My heart is beating slower, I once asked God to send me a sign;

These books were my message, as my pen starts to flat line.

Wishes can come true, if you sit on a river you will just float down stream;

But if you stand up and fight against the current, you can slowly wade your way forwards, to achieve your dream.

Tears flow through my pen turning into ink, writing on a blank page;

Some letters were inspired by happiness, and some letters were inspired by rage.

I never gave up on my dream, even though sometimes people said I was destined to fail;

Now those same people are hanging their heads, as my destiny did prevail.

People use to laugh at me, when they saw me sat there, eyes closed with a pen and a piece of paper;

But I moved my life on, whilst they are still sat in the same place, all these years later.

But I have to stop writing now, as the ink is just running dry;

Sometimes you have to stop for a second, enjoy the moment, because even angels can fall from the sky.

 

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

 

 

GRANDAD

 

It’s Monday the 17th of July, 1995, I sit on the sofa reading the paper, as my beautiful Wife walks in with my cup of tea;

I see butterflies fluttering outside in the morning sun, as I look down the garden checking out my Avery.

My Wife and I make plans for my retirement, which is just over a week away;

After a lifetime of working, I wonder just how I will spend each and every single day.

My Wife truly is my other half, after a lifetime together we are no longer two people, we are bonded as one;

My Wife fussing around making cheese straws, as we prepare a welcome for my Grandson.

I watch on smiling, as she runs the Hoover across the floor;

The doorbell echoes through the hallway, it’s my Grandson waiting patiently at the door.

He has grown so big, as I offer him a seat;

My Wife is still fussing, as she offers him the entire kitchen to eat.

We laugh and talk for the day, catching a moment in time;

My Grandson is just like me, as I look into his eyes I see a legacy which is mine.

I say “we will have Fish and Chips for dinner, why don’t you stay and have tea with us”;

My Grandson replies “thank you, but I am going out with my friends tonight, and it won’t be long before I catch the homeward bound bus”.

 

 

 

 

I walk with him to the bus stop, whilst I push my bike, so I can fetch home our tea;

As he hugs me goodbye I whisper, “Don’t leave it so long, before you come back and see me”.

He boards the bus and runs to the back, so he can wave me goodbye;

As the bus pulls away, tears start to fall from the sky.

I get our dinner and quickly ride home, trying to get out of the rain;

As we sit eating our Fish and Chips, my chest feels discomfort, which then turns into pain.

My Wife looks worried as she says “darling, are you alright”, I tremble out “I will be fine, I think I just need something to drink”;

As she runs into the kitchen, I feel my heart squeeze real tight, as my body starts to sink.

My plate smashes down onto the floor, as my Wife rushes back in, lights flash past my life;

I grab my chest, as I crash down to the floor, I see heaven through the eyes of my angelic Wife.

Everything is going dark, tears fall from my eyes, as I don’t want to say goodbye to my love;

I hold my Wife’s hand, whispering “I love you”, as my soul rises up into the beautiful blue skies above.

I write this letter from the heavens, watching over a family who would make any man proud;

I seal this letter with a kiss, as I watch it float down from my cloud.

 

 

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

DEDICATED TO

JOHN MOWLES

A FATHER, A GRANDAD, A FRIEND

WHO WILL NEVER BE FORGOTTEN

-X-

 

 

 

RE-VERSE

The heart monitor flat lines, I sink down to a constant sounding beep;

I drop off this world, as even angels will someday have to fall down to sleep.

An electric pulse shakes back down the defibrillator, as the doctor shouts out stand clear;

Watery cries roll back up my cheek and into my eyes, like a patiently waiting tear.

The paramedic’s rush me back outside into the lifting rain, as blood pours back into where the knife had cut;

They lift me back into the ambulance, as the open doors are slammed back shut.

Speeding down the road backwards, as the blue lights are flashing the other way;

Through the rear view window, I see the stars and moon sink, as the setting sun lifts back up into the day.

The paramedics pull me off the stretcher, laying me back onto the ground;

As the ambulance reverses backwards and away, the sirens become just another distant sound.

I lay on my back on the grass, as a dark figure stands over me, unsaying the last words that he had just said;

As I get back to my feet, the knife pulls out from my chest, which seals the hole back up which bled.

The dark figure puts his knife back up his sleeve, as he shouts “GIVE ME YOUR WALLET, AND YOUR FUCKING MOBILE PHONE”;

As he steps back into the shadows, I pace backwards, walking down the dark alley all on my own.

As the rain lifts back into the sky, I pull down the hood from my coat;

I walk back through my front door, and un-write the poem I had just wrote.

I lift my cigarette back from the ash tray, re lighting itself, as the smoke drifts down back into the paper;

I pick up my box of cigarettes, seeing only one fag left, before I    un-think of going to the shop later.

I unfold the letter, un-lick the stamp, put away the envelope, until this poem is no longer ready to send;

I put my pen down, sign my name, before finally reading out the last two words on the page, which spells out the end.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

LIFE

Life is like a rollercoaster, it has its up’s and down’s, but it’s your choice to scream or to just enjoy the ride;

Life is a onetime event, there is no time to push your hopes and dreams to one side.

Success doesn’t just fall onto your lap. Life is hard like trying to ice skate up hill;

Life is full of choices, just like in the Matrix we all have to choose to take that red or blue pill.

Life moves so fast, our time will never slow down or stop;

We spend our entire lives climbing life’s ladder, but where do we go once we have finally reached the top.

Life gives no second chances, life can lift you high but then within minutes crash you back down to the ground;

If your life was a boxing match, would you be entering into the 1st, the 10th or are you just facing up to your last and final round.

Life is too short to tell your dreams that they have to wait;

I was born to write these verses for you, it was my destiny, my butterfly effect, my uncontrollable fate.

Please don’t take your life for granted, just try to remember that heaven is only ever just a single missed heartbeat away;

Each morning is a new beginning, the rising sun equals, the start of a brand new day.

 

 

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

DEDICATED TO MY LITTLE SISTER JO BATES

-X-

STREETLIFE

The sunsets on the 951st  day of me living alone homeless on the street;

I sit motionless on the floor for hours upon end, unblinking eyes staring forwards, the same level as hundreds of passing feet.

Heads turned the other way, passersby never lock eyes with mine;

The rain continues to fall from the heavens, slowly smudging away the words from my sign.

“Hungry, Cold and in need of a warm drink”;

The rain soaks me to the bone, as my body begins to sink.

Sat here sliding down at the bottom of life’s ladder, thinking where did it all go so wrong;

All I have now is time, minutes seem like hours and the freezing nighttimes feel so empty and long.

My head is bowed down facing my battered shoes, as my soles sink down into the concrete;

The rain drowns out my tears, as all my hopes and dreams are washing away down the street.

Voices echo through my mind, as my tears are constantly falling;

I feel like I am screaming into the rain, but nobody can hear me calling.

The freezing winds reach inside my chest, wrapping itself tightly around my heart;

My life flashes through the falling rain, breaking my soul apart.

A warm light pierces through the darkness, lifting me gently into the skies without even a sound;

As my soul rises up through the clouds, I watch my body slump and tumble down to the ground.

I watch on from the heavens, as everybody carries on walking past my cold body, they could never really understand my pain;

Angels lift me higher into the sky, as I leave my life just drowning in the rain.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

FALL IN L.O.V.E

We spend our entire lives searching for love, out of 6 billion people we have to somehow find just one;

Years are spent walking around in the darkness, searching for a warmth that is only ever comparable to the sun.

Some people throw these 4 letters around to quickly, endless nights spent listening to fakes tell their lies;

But once they have used you, they just pack up and say their goodbyes.

Heartbreak can hit you like a hurricane, squeezing your lungs free from air;

For a broken heart there is no medicine, an emotional pain for which nothing else could ever compare.

The legendary Bob Marley once wrote, “Truth is everyone is going to hurt you, you just got to find the ones worth suffering for”;

Finding love can flip reverse your entire life, turning your ceiling into your floor.

Love can stretch across the world, for true love there is nothing that we would not do;

It’s crazy how 3 simple words can alter your destiny, just by simply hearing someone whisper “I love you”.

Love can make new memories, when you close your eyes you can immediately picture their face;

Memories can last for an eternity, reminding you of your first kiss, the date, the time and the place.

Love can make you float like a butterfly, but love can also sting you like a bee;

No matter where you are in life, we will all end up in the place we were always destined to be.

Love can only work if your reflection shines back two, sometimes you have to just sit there and watch love walk away;

No matter how much you cry, no matter how much you wish, you can never rewind time back to Yesterday.

Love can overwhelm your heart, quickly turning into an obsession;

Without your love to guide you, your life can suddenly sink into a pitch black depression.

It’s the little things in life which can ignite a love to fall;

It doesn’t matter if you are rich or poor, old or young, true love will one day find us all.

A true love never really dies, it stays with us even when our souls rise above;

We are all destined to make our dreams come true, just as we are all destined to someday fall in love.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

MOMENT IN TIME

It has been 378 months since my tongue first became twisted, mixing these verses up to rhyme;

It has now been 11,519 days since life gave me my first gift, a single moment in time.

33 weeks ago an earthquake shook Japan, so strong it brought a nation to its knees;

It has been 235 days now, since the land was swallowed, left drowning under the seas.

It has been 3,650 days since the skylines changed, shattering dreams beyond repair;

It has now been 87,600 hours, since the worlds eyes were stuck glued on one city, with a silent unblinking stare.

Time can also reunite nations, as nearly 22 years ago the Berlin Wall fell, that’s 8,030 sunrises, almost to the day;

But time moved on, rains fell, washing a violent history away.

It was 348 months ago E.T lifted a glowing finger to the silver screens, needing to phone home;

Just 168 weeks earlier, Michael Jackson sung to the world, just “leave me alone”.

102 months ago heaven had a vacancy for an angel, so they employed my Nan;

It was about the same time in life, I acted more like a lost boy, and less like Peter Pan.

It’s now been 48 years since the grassy knoll shot J.F.K;

22,236 weeks have passed, since Frank Sinatra first belted out

“My Way”.

We all have our own moment in time, it was 1,512 weeks ago that my very first wish came true;

It has now only been 7 minutes, 15 seconds, since I started writing this letter for you.

In 24 hours time a new day will leave today in the past, you have your moment, whilst I am busy writing mine;

Our history will never repeat itself, as we are only ever here, for just a single moment in time.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

BEHIND MY SMILE

Am I ever going to make it, or am I just living in denial;

As the pressure builds up all I can do now, is just hide behind my smile.

This ink tries to convince me that everything is going to be alright;

As the world sleeps, my pen stays awake still continuing to write.

Hours are spent arguing with this pen, just how can we make this next letter even more heartfelt than the last;

The ink is busy trying to write my future, whilst I am still learning from the mistakes that I made in the past.

I’ve spent so many years writing, even my dreams are starting to rhyme;

Is it really my destiny to write, or am I just wasting my time?

Two voices echo through my mind, one whispers words of hope, the other just brings me doubt and confusion;

This pen is starting to run dry, whilst I ask the heavens for yet another ink transfusion.

Is there light at the end of the tunnel, or are these verses written to only enlighten me;

I don’t just doubt myself as a writer, I am doubting my entire destiny.

I keep questioning myself, how can I do this all on my own;

Even though these verses are being read across the world, for some reason I have never felt so alone.

I put my heart and soul into each letter that I write, deep down I know that is all that I can do;

These verses may have climbed up into heaven, but I just hope they have somehow reached out to you.

My wish and ambition is simple, I just want to be the best that I can be;

We all have a dream in life we chase, the same way as we all have a destiny.

I look up to the heavens asking for guidance, I’ve called on my guardian angels so many times I have their number locked on speed dial;

My dreams are waiting patiently in the background, as the belief in myself is left, trapped behind my smile.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

CRASH

 (PART ONE)

 

My eyes open on a new day, it’s Wednesday the 11th of November, 2009;

As I open up our curtains, I am welcomed by the cold winter sunshine.

 

I turn around to see my Wife smiling, we have now been married for 7 years to the day;

High school sweethearts since we were 15 years old, best friends in each and every single way.

 

Years spent together, as I grew from a boy into a man;

We made memories full of happiness, since the very first moment that our love began.

 

Holding hands for an eternity, stuck in a reflection which always shone back two;

Heaven truly did send me an angel, secretly disguised as you.

 

I whisper “you stay wrapped up warm, whilst I go to the shop, and bring you an anniversary breakfast in bed”;

As she whispers out her loving goodbye, I lean down and softly kiss her forehead.

 

As I get into my freezing car I glance up to the bedroom window, to see my beautiful Wife waving me goodbye;

I blow a kiss towards my angel, as she pretends to catch it from the sky.

 

I put the radio on to keep me company as I drive, a never ending love is now responsible for putting this smile on to my face;

My destiny has brought me to this single moment in time, a destiny for which I would never replace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The icy roads are empty, as my radio speaker’s play out Eric Clapton singing “tears in heaven”;

A shiver runs down my spine, as the dashboard clock reads out the time, 11:11.

 

Just then my wheels lock, my car skids violently across the black ice hidden on the road;

My car starts to flip and roll off the tarmac, as the ground got darker the skies above me glowed.

 

With each roll the car makes another memory of my life flashes me by;

I feel my tears fall as I scream to the heavens, “please don’t take me, I don’t want to die”.

 

My car comes to a rest on its roof, as I tremble out a lost goodbye towards my love;

I feel an angel rest their hand on my shoulder, as my soul starts to rise up into the heavenly blue skies above.

 

As I climb higher and higher into the sky, I watch on as my car ignites into flames, turning my dreams into ash;

It was never my destiny to live, it was always my destiny to crash.

 

 

 

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

 

 

 

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CRASH II

(PART TWO)

 

My eyes open into a new day, it’s Wednesday the 11th of November, 2009;

I see my loving Husband open up our bedroom curtains, as I am welcomed to another morning by the cold winter sunshine.

 

A sweet smile glows across my face, as today is our 7 year anniversary;

I rub my hands across my stomach, as through my mind are ideas for our unborn babies’ nursery.

 

High school sweet hearts since we were 15 years old, he truly is my best friend in each and every single way;

I can’t believe he is going to be a Daddy, it’s my secret anniversary gift, which I finally get to tell him today.

 

Years spent together, as I grew from a girl in to a Wife;

Years filled with happy memories, alongside my soul partner, my destiny, my life.

 

We will hold hands for an eternity, our reflection will now always shine back two;

Heaven really did send me a guardian angel, an angel secretly hidden inside of you.

 

You whisper for me to stay wrapped up warm, whilst you drive to the shop and treat me to a lovely breakfast in bed;

I whisper “you’re so sweet my darling”, as he leans over to softly kiss my forehead.

 

I stand up by the bedroom window, waving my Husband goodbye;

I see him blow me a kiss through the window screen, as I pretend to catch it flying through the sky.

 

 

 

 

 

I watch him drive off down our street, until his car rolls out of sight;

I climb back into my warm bed to finish this book I’ve been reading, it’s all about a boy, who had a “DESTINY TO WRITE”.

 

As I read I smile, I can’t wait to tell my Husband that he is going to be a Dad;

I remember I have an anniversary card hidden in my drawer, so I sign it

“To the greatest Husband, any Wife ever had”.

 

I jump up, as the radio alarm goes off, Eric Clapton is singing

“Tears in heaven”;

A shiver runs down the length of my spine, as my alarm clock shines out the time, 11:11.

 

A feeling sinks through my body like a stone, a gut feeling that something has gone wrong;

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, as the radio alarm starts playing out our wedding song.

 

I try to ring his mobile phone, but for some reason all I hear is a dead tone;

My palms start to sweat, my heart starts to melt, as I plead to the ceiling, “please don’t leave me on my own”.

 

Just over an hour has passed since he left, as I pace the bedroom carpet, running to the window each time that I hear a passing car;

Questions constantly running through my mind, why has he been gone so long, the shops aren’t even that far.

 

I continue to wear out the bedroom carpet until I hear a car pull up, my heart skips a beat, as I breathe “thank god he is alive”;

I run towards the bedroom window, but my heart begins to fall, as I see a police car pulled up into my drive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An over whelming surge of heartache pulls me helpless to the floor;

Teardrops start to burst, as

 “KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK”,

 Echoes from my front door.

 

I swallow the lump growing in my throat, and tremble my way down each stair;

Dread flows through my body, whatever the policemen want to say, I do not want to hear.

 

My shaking, shivering hand opens the door, as a soft consoling voice says “can we please come in”;

My heart starts to cry, if life was a race, then I was never destined to win.

 

Tears overwhelm my face, as I cry out, “PLEASE, JUST TELL ME, IS MY HUSBAND DEAD”;

The walls around me all cave in, as through my teary eyes, I see them nod their head.

 

Pain courses through my veins, as my dreams disappear in a flash;

It was never my destiny to be happy,

 It was always my destiny to crash.

 

 

 

THE END

 

 

 

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

 

JOURNEY INTO HEAVEN

 

 

Time moves on, as we blow a kiss goodbye on 2011;

I drift off into the clouds, to revisit some of the lost stars, who now watch over us all from heaven.

 

Thousands of waiting souls litter the stairway to the skies, as I slowly make my way through that pearly gate;

Nate Dogg is creating a new sound, as he teams up with

 Jimi Hendrix, remixing a classic “Regulate”.

 

Michael Jackson is holding onto Christopher Reeve, desperately trying to get Superman to teach him how to fly;

Next to them sits Marilyn Monroe, who is getting new beauty tips from Aaliyah and TLC’s, Lisa “left-eye”.

 

Music is pumping from every direction, as The Notorious B.I.G takes to the mic, alongside his new best friend Tupac Shakur;

They are presenting a dance off, as Heath Ledger and Bruce Lee are the first stars to take to the floor.

 

Jimmy Saville sits shining on a step, trying to fix another dream to come true;

I see my Nan and Granddad walk towards me, as they whisper “we are so very proud of you”.

 

Amy Winehouse now looks happy, she can even break into a smile;

I have to pick my jaw up from the clouds, as Britney Murphy now looks even hotter, than she did in “8 mile”.

 

Laughter echoes across the heavens, as Bernie Mac entertains his crowd;

The poet Dylan Thomas is reading my book, as he whispers to me, that I am doing Wales proud.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Corey Haim is still acting like a lost boy, as Kurt Cobain teaches him how to play his guitar;

River Phoenix watches on, as angels are busy building their next shooting star.

 

Bob Marley is Jammin’ out an acoustic set, as the white clouds around me echo

“No Women, No Cry”;

Thousands of African children sit with Princess Diana, as she helps them make a brand new home in the sky.

 

Relationships are blossoming in heaven, Frank Sinatra is now with Elizabeth Taylor, as Patsy Cline eyes up Marlon Brando;

Elvis Presley just got married to Grace Kelly, whilst Patrick Swayze dirty dances with Jill Dando.

 

Martin Luther King is discussing progress with Malcolm X, as Steve Irwin searches for God’s creatures down there on the floor;

Bobby Robson is busy talking football, with our world cup winning captain Bobby Moore.

 

John Lennon is still writing classics, mixing up a new style with a little help from Jam Master Jay;

The godfather of soul James Brown joins up with Big Pun, to remix Frank Sinatra’s anthem, “MY WAY”.

 

Norman Wisdom is busy dancing around with Fred Astaire, as they are entertained by the legendary Freddie Mercury;

Ryan Dunne is still fooling around, as he finds a new Jackass member, in Brandon Lee.

 

A voice echoes from above, it’s now my time to go back, and join the sleeping dreams of the night;

As I fall back through the clouds, the voice faintly whispers “we all have a destiny, and your Destiny is to Write”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My eyes open, I am lying in my bed, my pen in my hand, as my alarm clock reads the time 11:11;

I have used this pen to re-write my dreams, as I finish writing,

 my journey into heaven.

 

 

 

 

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

 

 

 

 

 

MARILYN MONROE

(PART ONE)

 

 

Time in life can flash us by so quickly, whilst in heaven time moves so very slow;

This letter will take you on my journey, from how I was born Norma Jeane, but died as Marilyn Monroe.

 

I took my very first breath on Tuesday the 1st of June, 1926, in the future they will remember this date, as it was the day they said a star was born;

It was 09:30am to be precise, with a new life broke a new dawn.

 

My Mother named me Norma Jeane, in Los Angeles County Hospital, as the skies are illuminated by the golden sun;

Smiling faces all around me, as another destiny has begun.

 

The more time that ticked by, the more my Mother seemed to cry;

As I blew my candles out on my second birthday cake, my Father slammed the door whilst screaming out his goodbye.

 

My Mother couldn’t stop crying, she wept for days, those days soon turned into weeks, as I sat on the floor playing on my own;

Then one day 4 men in white coats took my mom away, and I was taken to live in a foster home.

 

For 5 years I never saw my Mother, I had a new family who nurtured me to grow;

Then on my 7th birthday we heard someone banging on the door, as my Mothers screaming voice echoed through the wood, “Pack your bags Norma, it’s time for us to go”.

 

The hospital had somehow released my Mother, but still all she could do was cry;

One minute she would be happy and smiling, then the next she would scream out that she wanted to die.

 

 

 

The next morning the same 4 men in white coats came back, they lifted her away, I tried desperately to hold her hand, as tears streamed down my face;

I was sent to live with my neighbour, a friend of my Mothers, a wonderful lady named, Grace.

 

For 2 years I was a happy smiling 8 year old, Grace was like an angel, she would say “One day Norma you will be the biggest star, the world has ever seen”;

We would spend hours watching movies in our local cinema, as I dreamt of living under the lights and glamour, shining through that silver screen.

 

After that summer things changed, Grace met her future Husband in 1935, and after the wedding he didn’t want me around, so I was left in an orphanage home;

I use to cry myself to sleep, as I was so afraid of facing the darkness on my own.

 

Over the next 2 years I had 4 different foster families to meet, to love, before once again I had to say my goodbye;

It’s now my 11th birthday, and the only thing I’ve learnt from life so far, is really how to cry.

 

I was allowed to move back in with Grace and her Husband, just because I had nowhere else to run;

During the night Graces Husband would sneak into my bed whilst she was sleeping, I would just lay there crying wishing I was back home with my Mom.

 

I would go and visit my Mother in hospital, I begged her not to send me home, if I had just one wish I prayed this request is the one she would grant;

That night I moved away once again, this time to make a new home with my Great Aunt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was the worse few months of my life, I was only 12 years old and I felt like I had fallen into hell;

Each night my 20 year old Cousin would climb into my bed to touch my shivering body, and even after all this time I still feel intoxicated by his smell.

 

One day I plucked up the courage and walked away, I walked for hours until I was back looking over my sleeping Mom, I remember leaning over to kiss her;

Just then an angel appeared, in the form of my Mothers Sister.

 

At last I was happy, I had found a home, I felt safe, I could finally look forward instead of always looking back;

But then 4 days after my 16th birthday, my Aunt suffered from a near fatal heart attack.

 

She was too ill to return home, and I was still too young to live there on my own;

Once again the loneliness surrounded me, feeling lost, with no place to call my home.

 

In 1942 now aged 16 years old, I was forced to move back in with Grace and her monster Husband, each night I wished for that door to stay shut;

Fear tore me to pieces, as all my trust in humanity started to seep through each cut.

 

In the August of 1942 I met my very first love, my neighbours son, and after a few weeks I moved in with his family, as Grace and her monster packed up and left, without even checking if I was okay;

But finally I had found the love I craved for, that is until World War 2 threatened to take this new found love away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He enlisted into the merchant marines, one week after we were wed;

3 months later he left to fight in the Pacific, whilst I sat at home petrified of receiving a telegram, informing me that he was dead.

 

I was back living with my Mother in-law, whilst the man that we loved was away fighting in this terrible war;

I found myself my first job, making parachutes, as I day dream of flying up high, instead of being a star just sat down here on the floor.

 

Then one day a newspaper photographer visited our factory, he wanted to use my picture in that nights Evening Gazette;

As the very first camera bulb flashes before my eyes, it produced the sort of light I would never forget.

 

The next week my dreams started to come true, as I am called to audition for a top modelling agency, they loved me, but my dark hair had to become almost white;

As I gazed upon my new reflection, I felt like I had been reborn, moving away from the darkness and into the spotlight.

 

My Husband returned home from war a different man, angry and upset that my life had now changed its course;

I guess in the end all those camera flashes altered my destiny, and in 1945, I filed for a divorce.

 

The next few months were spent in a flashing bright haze, time now ticked by at the speed of sound;

The cameras started recording my every move, as I was being turned into a star, lifted high up from the ground.

 

Hollywood were busy creating a whole brand new me, as reporters and photographers tell me that the shining lights of stardom is where I was always destined to go;

Into the darkness fell Norma Jeane, as into the light walked,

Marilyn Monroe.

 

 

 

 

I take my first shaking step into the spotlight, this is a new beginning, just like a star still shining at dawn;

The red carpet beneath my feet begins to glow, as the headlines across the globe report that a,

Star has been born.

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

 

 

 

 

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MARILYN MONROE II

(PART TWO)

 

 

 

My life had become a whirlwind of light, as my face started to appear across that silver screen;

I moved away from the darkness to stand up tall in the spotlight, a once lonely girl was now just living out her dream.

 

In December of 1953 the magazine Playboy printed its first copy, and yours truly was on the front page;

The curtain on my world had finally been lifted, at last my life was living on the centre stage.

 

Camera flashes make the red carpets shine, as the following month I fell head over heels in love, Joe DiMaggio this verse is dedicated to you;

I had finally found happiness, in the year of 1952.

 

We were married in San Francisco, on January the 14th 1954;

I had finally found my knight in shining armour, as everywhere we went another red carpet was rolled out on the floor.

 

Marriage illuminated by the lime light was tough, everyone knowing our secrets, papers busy printing my picture whether I cry or smile;

The mirror is trying to convince my reflection I am still the real me inside, I guess even stars can live in denial.

 

I was living on cloud 9 until I fell down in September 1954, I was asked to attend a photo shoot, and to let the subway wind blow up my dress;

My Husband was standing in the crowd, as I watched his jealousy turn into a violent stress.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He dragged me down the street as I cried, but his anger had no remorse;

After just 8 months of marriage we went our separate ways, and once again I was filing for a divorce.

 

Surrounded by people who claim to care, but nighttimes were the worse as so many tears drained away, trying desperately to heal this broken heart;

I started to search for a message in a bottle, as the sleepless nights tore my dreams apart.

 

My management employ doctors to feed me pills for breakfast, lunch and tea;

I feel like I am screaming into the darkness, but for some reason nobody can ever hear me.

 

In 1956 I was tired of being lonely, I just didn’t want to face the darkness all on my own;

In the July I met my future Husband Arthur Miller, he made my heart melt away after I thought my past had turned it into stone.

 

For a few years I felt that loving feeling again, but those flashing cameras still kept me awake each and every single night;

The doctors fill me to the brim with sleeping pills, as my dreams slowly fade away, just drifting out of sight.

 

Hours spent arguing with my Husband, as the spotlight followed us at every turn, leaving us no place to run away and hide;

Another chance of happiness crumbles away, and no one will ever know just how many tears that night I cried.

 

I can’t believe I am now 35 years old, whilst the world blows a kiss goodbye to 1959 I wonder what next does fate have in store for me;

A teardrop rolls down my cheek as I sign my name, sealing the end of divorce number 3.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sleeping pills are drowning in the champagne bubbles, as therapists consult doctors, who try to figure out just how to patch up a broken dream;

I felt like I was crying behind this mask of make-up and blonde hair, I guess I was just missing Norma Jeane.

 

I was invited to perform at The White House in 1961, I remember the date,

 It was the 19th of May;

The T.V cameras started to sweat, as I sung many happy returns to our President, J.F.K.

 

Some things I can tell you, but there are also some things that I can’t, heaven doesn’t rescue enemies of the state;

I am a strong believer in the saying “What will be, will be”, you may call it destiny, but I will just call it fate.

 

Depression pulls me down, as behind these closed doors the pills and alcohol fight against my pain;

I lay alone in a silent house, as my tears flow across this bed like rain.

 

Through my teary eyes I see my dreams take the form of these pills, lying spread out across my bed;

I stare into the mirror searching for the lost Norma Jeane, But that part of me is already a long time dead.

 

My picture is on every front cover, but my shadow casts an image of an angel about to fall from the sky;

My pills are now being chased down with even more bubbles, as my tears refill the glass, each time that I cry.

 

All these empty pill containers roll off the bed, as my eyes flicker in a dizzy haze, my body starts to get that sinking feeling;

I fall back onto my pillow, as I watch a new bright spotlight gradually appearing through my ceiling.

 

 

 

 

The spotlight gets brighter, my pain fades away as I hear angels whisper that it’s time for me to go;

I may have started this journey as Norma Jeane, but on

 August the 5th, 1962, I entered heaven as,

Marilyn Monroe.

 

 

 

 

THE END

 

R.I.P

NORMA JEANE BAKER

1926 – 1962

-x-

 

 

 

 

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

 

 

 

THE YOUTH OF TODAY

Our modern world is changing, and everyone is busy blaming the youth of today;

But how can we blame the future, when it was us who made their world this way.

Our street corners are full, as our children think that it’s okay to walk into the darkness with a knife;

When did we stop teaching our kids that the greatest ever gift, is quite simply LIFE.

Footballers earning a million pound a month, whilst children in Africa sit crying their hunger pain;

Pier pressure is weighing down our future generations, as they begin to buckle under the strain.

Our children are now living in a virtual world, with MSN, Facebook and Twitter, they no longer need to speak face to face;

If only they knew time was so valuable, and a lost childhood is the one thing that no one could ever replace.

Girls desperate to be thin, as their air brushed idols kneel at the toilet throwing up their breakfast, lunch and tea;

A silent generation sits texting on the latest mobile, whilst playing their PS3.

Faces hide behind hoodies, but not all youngsters want to go out and cause a riot;

Each of us is born with a hidden gift, but our future children have just forgotten how to find it.

We are leaving a broken planet to our children’s children, whilst our Governments just spout hot air, adding to our global warming;

With the worlds ice caps still melting, and our wildlife slowly disappearing, this is starting to sound more like a global warning.

Older generations demand respect, but its one way traffic, as respect back is something they do not show;

Instead of teaching our children how to fly, we tie them down with yet another ASBO.

Frustration and neglect flows through the streets of this concrete jungle, the one place that we now all call our home;

Bullies and racists still torture their victims, leaving them to cry in the shadows, all on their own.

Plastic surgery changing bodies, changing faces, as the years pass the dreams we all had as children slowly fade away;

Before long the dawn of a new generation will begin, and no doubt people will still be blaming,

The youth of today.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

KISS FROM MY CLOUD

 

On the 10th of May I took my very first breath, my parents named me,

Marion Rosina Dyer, the year was 1937;

I am sitting on my cloud high up in the skies, as I write you this letter from heaven.

 

Sometimes I know you feel down, I reach out but cannot touch you, each time I see you cry;

This ink is my way of contacting you, as I know we never had the chance to say our final goodbye.

 

You have to stay strong, for the gates to your dreams are about to open, you need to stand up tall;

I hear your prayers echo through your dreams, I just wanted you to know that I always hear your call.

 

I’ve seen your future, to the stars is where you were always destined to go;

You are finally standing up in the light, after so many years of crawling through your tunnel, chasing only a distant glow.

 

I don’t want any of you to blame yourself for not being there at the end, it was simply just my time;

We each leave a legacy in life, my Children and Grandchildren are mine.

 

I felt no pain on the 20th of May 2003, when an angel lifted me gently up and into heaven;

Your granddad and I will now mark this date down in history, as

 A Star Was Born, in 2011.

 

In your dreams you always ask, if we will ever see each other again;

Yes, is the answer to that question, but only your destiny can decide when.

 

 

 

 

 

Please pass on this message of love, to my Daughter Sharon,

 And my two Sons, Tom and Gary;

To all our Grandchildren who we miss so much, Alex, Jason, Lisle,

 Ben, Joanne, and Barry.

 

We now spend our days watching over our ever growing legacy, a family that would do any parent or Grandmother proud;

I wish I could be there with you all, but instead I will just blow out, one final goodbye kiss from my cloud.

 

 

DEDICATED TO

 

MARION ROSINA (DYER) MOWLES

10/05/1937 – 20/05/2003

 

JOHN MICHAEL ALEXANDER MOWLES

16/08/1930 – 14/07/1995

 

MARRIED

St MARY’S CHURCH, HADLEIGH

31/12/1955

 

NOW TOGETHER FOREVER

 

—–X—–

 

GONE BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN

 

 

 

 

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

 

 

WORLD TRADE: FLIGHT 11

We arrive at Logan airport,           awaiting American Airlines flight number 11, flying direct to L.A;

I sit in the airport lounge watching my Husband hold my beautiful sleeping Daughter, I can’t believe that she is 6 years old today.

The airport speakers announce “WOULD ALL PASSENGERS FLYING WITH AMERICAN AIRLINES ON FLIGHT 11 TO L.A.X, PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE GATE TO BOARD”;

I hold my Daughters hand, as towards the bright blue skies we soared.

The seatbelt light goes off, as my Daughter starts to draw our plane with fairy wings, flying through the sky;

I ask her why her plane has wings, she giggles “Silly Mummy, it’s not a plane, it’s a Butterfly”.

I see my Husband smile, I whisper “I love you”;

He leans over our Daughter, kisses me gently, replying “I love you to”.

Just at that moment our life’s changed, as shouting cries echo through the cabin, bursting into our little family dream;

I could see 5 dark strangers attacking the cabin crew, knifes to their throats, as violent threats are the only reply to their scream.

My Husband picks our Daughter up, cuddling us closer together, as the mad men force their way into the cockpit, they are now in control of the plane;

A tear rolls down my cheek, as I look into the eyes of my little family I realize, from that very second our life’s would never again be the same.

My Husband pulls us both in closer, as I tremble “don’t worry baby, everything is going to be alright”;

I swallow the lump in my throat, as my Husband holds us both real tight.

Violent screams echo from the front of the plane, I glance around the cabin to see all shivering passengers crouched down on the floor;

I feel the plane swerve, changing its direction, as in my shaking arms I hold all what I adore.

As I hold onto my family, fear overwhelms my heart, a contemplation of just what was going to happen;

As I stare through the tiny window I frown, as in the distance I can see a familiar skyline, its New York’s Lower Manhattan.

I shake my Husband with a trembling hand, stuttering “baby isn’t that New York”;

The plane starts descending through the skies, as my Daughter whispers “shhhh Mummy, the nasty men told us all not to talk”.

Everything moves in slow motion, as through the window I see the World Trade Centre’s, towering high up into the skies;

The plane continues to descend from the heavens, as the cabin becomes filled with all the passengers panicking goodbyes.

 

I kiss my family with shaking lips, as panic overwhelms my soul with fear;

I tremble out “I love you” as from my eyes falls its final tear.

 

Just then the plane crashes straight into the unsuspecting tower,

I close my eyes, holding my family tight, as bright flames of light engulf our flight number 11;

This letter is dedicated to all the lost souls, for spending the last 10 years as angels up in heaven.

“YOU FLEW INTO HELL, NOW YOU FLY WITH ANGELS”

9/11 10TH ANNIVERSARY

11/09/2001 – 11/09/2011

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

REMEMBER MY NAME

This is just the beginning, this isn’t the end, there is no need to cry;

Just promise me you will always remember my name, when you see a shooting star in the sky.

My doubters are now eating their own words, just hanging their heads in shame;

I just hope that when I am gone, the stars will spell out my name.

I smile each time I complete another letter, another chance to prove all of my haters wrong;

I kept my feet firmly on the ground, whilst they have their heads in the clouds, just like “Cheech & Chong”.

I write these words with a pen, not a pencil, so these verses will never have to fade away;

You should never judge a book by its cover, but instead judge it by what the enclosed verses have to say.

I try so hard to give these letters feet, so that they can stand up on their own;

So called friends may have turned their backs on me, but these pages were always by my side, so that I never had to feel alone.

Nobody wanted to help me when I was down, but now I am climbing so high everyone seems to want to stand by my side;

This pen and paper has always been there for me, catching my tears of ink when I cried.

These words are my guiding light, drawing me closer to my destiny, just like a moth to the flame;

I don’t write these verses to become rich and famous, I just want people to remember my name.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

LITTLE SWEETHEART

 CHLOE POOLE, AGED 14

I am going to tell you about my Sister, she has A.D.H.D;

But even though she has got this problem, she is still much braver than me.

When she was just a tiny baby, she had a hole in her heart;

When I saw her with tubes and an oxygen mask, it tore me apart.

She was my first baby Sister, I loved her from day one;

But when she had trouble breathing, and went to hospital, that’s when the worry begun.

She was in for a very long time, but when she was out she had a tube up her nose;

She was so skinny, you could tell by looking at her tiny clothes.

I would cuddle her until she fell asleep, and Mammy would put her in her cot;

I know have an amazing strong Sister, I can’t believe how lucky I got.

 

She can be naughty on times, but it isn’t her fault;

God help when she’s in high school, she’d be sent home for a verbal assault.

No matter what she is my crazy little Sis;

I can’t go nowhere, without getting a big sloppy kiss.

I love her so much, I will always have her back;

Anyone who tries hurting her, they can look forward to a smack.

I can get stressed with her sometimes, and we will argue and shout;

But she can make me smile, even when she will ignore me and pout.

I’ll always be there for her, always here from the start;

Even when she is 23 or older, she will always be my little sweetheart.

-X-

CHLOE POOLE, AGED 14

WALES, UK

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A.D.H.D

SHAYLEIGH DUDSON, AGED 7

 

I got a lovely Sister, she’s happy all the time, my Sister has a lovely Sister to, which is me;

I also love my family, and I have A.D.H.D.

 

I am 7 years old, I got brown hair, I got a boyfriend, and his name is Timmy;

 I love my Mammy and Daddy, and my family helps me with my A.D.H.D.

 

I wrote this poem for my family, Shayleigh

 

SHAYLEIGH DUDSON , AGED 7

WALES, UK

 

ACID TRIP TO NOWHERE MOOR.

GARY MOWLES ©2011

Tis Thirteen past the hour of March,
Sky’s have turned a cold, red, amber glow.
Oak and Elm trees play rugger in the dunes,
As Fuzzard birds circle menacingly below.

Jaffa, the Buddha man, deep in trance,
Eye’s shut, wide open, whilst searching
Heavily fortified Chara-bangs, on turf less hills,
That have no shining black moon eye’s.

Passing Aretha with her glowing hair,
Her fluid spills through crackled Orbs,
As Siouxie Sioux watches from
Cliff’s kaleidoscopic, wall less wall’s.

Lance turns Doughnuts on 45 degree shores,
Commanding raids to search their stores, of
Cooling ale, in cold sinked water, to
Quench their thirst that rages within.

Cocooned in bags designed for sleep,
Warmed by pre-charcoal trunks,
Devouring tin’s of anything that moves
Around there canvas bunks.

Bodies, horizontal,
To Earths, rough carpeted floor,
Lid’s falling slowly over orbital globes,
Tis time to dream
Of their ACID TRIP TO NOWHERE MOOR

GARY MOWLES ©2011

 ENGLAND, UK

CHOICES

SANTOSH AKHILESH ©2011

To Sleep;
Or Workout.
To Play;
Or Sit on the fence.
To be Loved;
Or speak the Truth.
To Read;
Or be Read.
To Dream;
Or be Dreamt of.
To Shine;
Or Fade.
To Lose;
Or give that
Extra bit.
To Lie;
Or be Naked.
To Live;
Or Survive.
To Rhyme;
Or write a Poem.
To Sing;
Or Listen.
To Learn;
Or Cram.
To Cry;
Or make others smile.
To be Black & White;
Or Grey.
To be Non violent;
Or Fight for
My right.
To Vote;
Or watch TV.
To Change;
Or Adjust.

To say Yes;
Or No.
To be Fast;
Or Steady.
To Ignore;
Or Explore.
To Play to the gallery;
Or Do it my way.
To Write
Or Give up
CHOICES
and which one
will I make?
Or
You!

SANTOSH AKHILESH ©2011

BANGALORE, INDIA

AS SHE SITS

LONNIESHA “FLOETPOET” JACKSON ©2011

A single flame goes out by the wind.
Her heart can no longer take all of the pain, so much pain.
Her pain is great, so great she can no longer feel anything else.
As she sits there waiting, wondering. Without him, her love of many years.
Where is he? She doesn’t know
Come back to her he must, for her to go on
It is the end of her world without him
As she sits there wondering, waiting and
wanting him
Only he can make all the pain go away. Gone too long, she sits there in great fear. Beyond the pain, her heart knows, he’s gone. Gone
forever……. As she sits there wanting, waiting
and wondering
she knows….

LONNIESHA “FLOETPOET” JACKSON ©2011

EASTERN NORTH CAROLINA, U.S.A

 

SOMETIMES

ANGEL MEREDITH ©2011

Sometimes I like to be
Made gentle love to
And then other times
Not so gentle
I want a whisper
In my ear
A kiss on the neck
And then other times
To be devoured whole
Sometimes I want to be
Taken seriously
And then other times
Not so much
I want to giggle
Laugh uncontrollably
Throw caution to the wind
And then other times
Listen intently
Sometimes I want to be
Uniquely me
And then other times
Go incognito
To blend in with the crowd
Be one of many
Look alike faces
And then other times
Be extraordinary
Sometimes I want to be
Yours alone
And then other times
Be polyamorous
To love freely and be loved
Lose count of lovers

Swim in orgasmic heaven
and then other times
Be indivisible

ANGEL MEREDITH ©2011

BURLESON, TEXAS, U.S.A

FED UP

FIORDALIZA CHARLES ©2011

How could I be so blinded by love
Time after time
I told myself that I won’t
Why Could I not see this with you
You were no different than the rest
You toyed with
My emotions
My Heart
My Mind
You disrupted my ego
Today I looked inside
I cried my last cry
I know what I have to do
I have to look pass you
Passed the love that we shared
I can’t deny
You had me at a glance
It was love at first site
But now I can’t stand being by your side
Being with you does not feel right
Every time we speak, we end up in a fight
I am tired of the bickering
The yelling
Things I have to do to get my point across
The sweet happy faces are gone
I am feeling like a kid without a DADDY
All I wanted was for us to be an idle
but now I have no choose
I have to let you go and that’s final
I realize that we live and learn
At this point I just want to move on
Fed Up
Fed Up

FIORDALIZA CHARLES ©2011

BRONX, NEW YORK, U.S.A

HARBINGER

GARLAN JENKENS ©2011

Harbinger of sorrow
Fleeting love of tomorrow
My heart longs to know
Where does my shadow go

Eternity in her eyes
The many faces of disguise
The players and the fools
Have lost sight of life’s jewel

How do we really become
Like ancient spirits who are one
Torn by the waves of life
In struggle in all this strife

The colours of a rainbow
Are not really there:
It’s all but a refraction
Of light after a storm

Hold me closer than you’ve dared
Your reflection in the mirror
– empty eyes that just stare –
Is but the harbinger of love

GARLAN JENKENS ©2011

ABILENE, TEXAS, U.S.A

THE RED COAT

SONJA BENSKIN MESHER ©2011

the red coat
was hiding
under layers,
but i saw it.
Red it is, worn, shabby
a friend you say.
Lining cream silk crumple.
The label
Harris tweed,
heather washed,
as old.
the back a thin satin sash
to tie,
oh lovely coat
i love you.
**
away for coffee
Italian,
a biscuit.
**
back to the red coat,
tried it, and looked daft in it,
and i imagined how it would be
**
hungry i would wear it,
run on the moor, windy,
a cotton dress beneath,
grubby knees,
old boots, and wrap it round me.
night garden, pyjamas,
and the red coat looking
at the moon
**

slight smell of camphor,
and lavender,
un threading,
pockets with notes,
and hankies
and all well, all well.
**
men will sing with three voices,
and dance in their suits,
and i will be head lost, and dizzy.
leaving the coat
to bathe in pools
of light, under green,
dripping back into
the coat , red coat.
**
they say i said too much about the coat last night,
and did I look daft, and i will never buy it
£500,
but it is already mine,
headed forever, calling it to at will

**
red coat.
i will say more, and more, red coat.
**
I love you red coat.

SONJA BENSKIN MESHER ©2011

LLANELLTYD, WALES, UK

COME TO ME

MARZANA ISLAM ©2011

Come this way,
as we lay.
You’re like the stars, a shining light.
Your smile so bright.

Come this way,
through the dark,
and light up this spark.
Holding us together,
your contact soft like a feather.

When I seal my eyes,
you’re nearer to me.
Under the blossom tree,
falling asleep besides you.
Our love,
tried and true.

It’s like a dream
shouting out your name,
like a hide and seek game.
Do I search far and wide,
until you’re by my side.

So baby come to me,
even in the darkest shadows,
I opened my arms to you.
So come my way,
and enjoy the time.
I pray,
for a better day.
When were not lost and
confused,
But loved and not used .

MARZANA ISLAM ©2011

LONDON, UK

PAINTED MUSE

CONNIE JANE TUCKER ©2011

Lost in the glowing hues of a lover’s enlivened canvas.
Saturation of yearning ardency, air-brushed and ravenous..
Shading my essence with your rhythmical touch, so refined,
Etching my curves in roseate water colours, perfectly aligned.

I watch you stroke my image with every flawless sweep,
Creating the semblance of my body onto the paper , intensity seeps..
I feel your eyes set within black diamond’s of night, dance upon my vision,
Tracing my thought within a thought, a relic of intimate precision..

Spirit of sadness, rested upon sheets of a dark artist’s dream,
Captured in a chalky frame of congenial allure, deceptive extreme..
Glide your finger tips across my silent essence trapped in your portrait,
Inamoratas, mystic muse, stare at me for all time, black lace corset..

Splashing eroticism upon your canopy of tinted deception so surreal,
I do like it here, this way with you, craving your dark artistry appeal..
Seduction exudes from this framed lust, so sweet and dulcet,
Fixate yourself inside my colours of still life, you made it, you sculpt it..

I want you upon my walls of memory for all times..
You paint the world, I’ll create the rhymes.,
Forever intertwined.

CONNIE JANE TUCKER ©2011

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, U.S.A

IN DREAMS

BRIAN WRIXON ©2011

In dreams my life is altered
I awake and question reality
there is no reality
they are only dreams
but how is non-reality born?
In dreams I speak great words
I awake and forget them
there are no words on paper
they are only dreams
But how are great words born?
In dreams I do great feats of courage
I awake and feel proud
there are no great deeds to glory in
They are only dreams
but how is such strength born?
In dreams I experience great love
I awake and know it is real
there is a reality
they are not just dreams
I know because there is you

BRIAN WRIXON ©2011

BURLINGTON, ONTARIO, CANADA

BE

MICHELE BARON ©2011

In her eyes,

she is beautiful,

a dancer pirouetting

among the shadows,

lights and sounds

dappling the

walks

of life.

In her eyes,

she waits,

dreams hidden,

heart held  safe,

eyes closed to things

she cannot bear to see.

In her eyes, breath held, arms outstretched,

fingers reaching, she will find a hand

to hold– long-awaited,

never-hurting

never-leaving,

always accepting

the who that she

was, is, and could be.

In her eyes,

she is waiting, ageless,

for the surprise of

happiness and love.

In her eyes, she did

not run from abuse,

She ran to a hope

for more from life.

In her eyes, the body

scorned and sold

without her choice

Is still beautiful,

under her skin,

under her eyelids,

in her unspoken dreams,

where no one can touch.

No one can touch.

In her eyes, endless nights,

gleaming streets and high cold

moons ringed with rainbows

bring promise of brighter

tomorrows, and surprise

snowfalls bring joy

on even the

bleakest

of nights.

In her eyes,

she can let

whispered words pass,

washed clean and away,

far and safe

in the deep-flowing river

of broken songs

and brokered

answers.

In her eyes

she is not a whore.

MICHELE BARON ©2011

RABAT, MOROCCO

MY DREAM
TENDEKA MARLVIN NZIRA ©2011

I fear to stand far from you
my tears,I drown in, for you
clean and clear
here and there
lingering in whisper
I call it jeepers creepers
I look for my purpose,
hanging,I find it in the closet
your heart is full of it
in black and white stripes
like the zebra
yin yung
Quitting is a religion,
I don’t believe in it
Spoken is the language,
Broken is the sequence
the power of silence
drop dead the violence
Until when
never then
far are the days
near is my destiny
I rule my on
Giving you me
was not a mistake
its all I had
the shadows follow
Life you can’t borrow
we had it
free was the gift
I will write on these walls
long and tall
shot is the list

TENDEKA MARLVIN NZIRA ©2011

KETTERING, NORTHAMPTONSHIRE, UK

PHANTASM

SHIJAGURUMAYUM DONIL SHARMA ©2011

The glint came out of the blue
dazzles sweet Kyra’s eyes
Phoenix reborn the moment
from ashes of dead hope
Shall I still believe in infinity?

Hallucinate a moment of
Kyra and me in Serenissima
kissing under the Bridge of Sighs,
Strolling around in Times Square
teasing the flickering neon lights

I grin watching her bow shaped lips
while reciting me her poem in Rome
and I pour her favorite Pinot Noir,
Kyra flirts boutiques in Rodeo Drive,
Dinner in Hawaiian beach is ecstatic

Realized its hallucination and I frown
My poor pen never accede to stop writing
will this poorly written poem ever bring
the moment I have been longing for?
Habibiti! Will the flame ever ignite again?

SHIJAGURUMAYUM DONIL SHARMA ©2011

IMPHAL, MANIPUR, INDIA

REASON

AMPAT VARGHESE KOSHY ©2011

I hurt
I hurt all the time
without
any rhyme

AMPAT VARGHESE KOSHY ©2011

BANGALORE, INDIA

NOT ANYMORE

SUSMA SHARMA GURUMAYUM ©2011

Not anymore.
Everything has a lifespan,
Even feelings I guess.

Not anymore
You are my prince charming.
The qualities I hate are now visible.

Not anymore
You are my muse.
You are all used, used up by my ink.

Not anymore
You come in my dreams.
With your sweet smile as u used to illogically.

Not anymore
I can ignore,
Your disinterest in me ever so as it’s always been.

Not anymore
Will I play blind.
I can see, and I know the truth.

Not anymore.
Everything comes to an end sooner or later.
And this did, it ended today.

SUSMA SHARMA GURUMAYUM ©2011

IMPHAL, INDIA

LETTER TO MOTHER AS WINTER LOOMS NEARER

KEVIN M HIBSHMAN ©2011

see you in the spring
winter has crept in under the floorboards
through window cracks
has raised its voice in the wind

i cannot get to you now
i am courting fate once again
hoping to arrive at an uneasy truce
counting breaths and rationing my expenditure of energy for the battles to come

the days have grown short and the sun has disappeared
the ground is growing hard
i cannot afford to listen to my heart or my head as both have become untrustworthy
i have been here before and must remain stoic to fight the encroaching freeze

see you in spring
perhaps one of the first warm days
when the house is not stilled and the phantoms have settled back into the walls
we will chat and chortle once again appraising our survival
we shall drink tea among the scent of new roses
but first this mean season beckons…

KEVIN M HIBSHMAN

LANCASTER, PENNSYLVANIA, U.S.A

I COULD BE HER ANGEL

VALENTINE CHIBUEZE ©2011

Standing in the sun to watch her dream to flames,
every echo chained with fury depleted her world
to dust,
A lost child, a lost hope
A lost vision, a lost meaning
An unending war, a never ending river
fading with memories of once upon a time to
will there ever be a time.
to gazing with the stare of a child
reaching with the hands of a mother
My heart cried & crumbled to a pause
i could never fathom the depth of her tears,
littering words of you will never understand,
her anthem
Standing in the rain to watch her race the
marathon of life
Her shadow pacing between two realms
i could never see the journey ahead
i could never be her dream maker
i could be her Angel.

VALENTINE CHIBUEZE ©2011

NIGERIA, AFRICA

DESTINY’S PRAYER

THORNNE E XAIVIANT ©2011

Lord you gave me life….
I’m struggling damn…
I wanna end it where the knife?
Fuck it….
I can’t take this shit…
They say I’m wrong but who made them right….
Got-dammit?
I got a situation torn between my mind body and soul…
Sit down and listen this is how you get smart when you’re old…
You see I gave her my all up close and personal….
Kept it real never virtual…
I never gave my essence away just because she hated it why?
That’s me and it was what it was…
She wanted the dick but its a package deal…
What the hell?
Emotions?
Take it slow?
Nah, nah, nigga no deal…
Lets fuck for real….
I’m calling my ex because that deal got me stressed…
God please make her understand what’s next…
She is truly blessed…..
I never put anyone above her…
Yet and still she retreats to the ex lover…
Battered and bruised….
You want me to choose….
There are no winners playing your games…
I risk everything just the same either way I’m to blame….
Damn, Lord please make light in this darkness…..
I have more weight than I can harness…
That’s my heart breaking, my soul shaking….
My mind caught in the grind…
What sense is this drama making?
I put my thoughts on paper…

Then outta nowhere you send my savior….
I didn’t expect her and what she has to offer…
A spirit in unison with mine…
3 boys and two daughters…..
Wow for real?
This can’t be true I’m happy as can be…
The bullshit is over she came back for me…
Lord I thank You every time I hear her voice…
I understand the ramifications of this choice…
I had to endure I had to take the hits…
The devil did his worst but my saviour is here this is it…
I feel it in her embrace a heaven sent place…
I see it in her eyes…
With her is where my soul lays its head and my destiny lies…
My 80 percent compliments her 20 a match made in your heaven without question…
Her 20 percent is protected by my 80 I love my mirror image…
Wow what a lady…?
There goes my baby…..
Lord she humbles me….
I owe you the thanks and praise….
I will treasure this union for the rest of our days…
We found our roots…
Who knew my soul-mate would come dressed in a jersey, long braids, jeans, and timberland boots……

THORNNE E XAIVIANT ©2011

LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY, U.S.A

LOST LETTERS

2011

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