In the time of the flood.

Like rats deserting a sinking ship the gypsies are all heading north.
Can’t we send them all up to Scotland?
They can park by Alex Salmonds front door.
Nicola Sturgeon can have the Albanians.
Gordon Brown can take in Ed Balls.
The Scots can then vote for independence
and the UK can be shut of them all.

Andy Fox 280214

Tongue almost in cheek..

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The Legion of the Lost.

I slid into Blaenau Ffestiniog on a diet of adrenaline and ice.
When Vinnyt told me the Betwys Y road was closed I said it wasn’t very nice.
I raise my glass to Freddy Moffats.
To Vinnys girls and boys.
The factory is  there no more.
The story of my life.

The first place I worked in was demolished long ago.
Where the warehouse stood that I worked in stands new houses .
Hudson Shepherd Transport’s yard is now Dysons distribution point.
I call my history The Legion of the Lost.
Sometimes I feel my history is a same.

I raise my thoughts and my glass to the Legion of the Lost.
To the folk I miss in passing and to others not a jot.
I smile as I remember Tricky Dicky,Jason and Gwyn.
I raise my middle finger high in salute to many others.

A rambler now. I am part of the Legion of the Lost.
I made my choices and I live with them.Good and bad.
One day I will have to stop my journey.
This I know full well.
But for now I stand tall and proud.
I am a member of The Legion of The Lost

Andy Fox 220214

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Is this love?

I heard myself begging for your company.
I am worth more than that.
Even if it is only to myself I am worth more than that.

You are under my skin.
I scratch at my arms until the blood flows freely.
Still you remain.

I miss you when you are not around.
I am uncomfortable in your company.
You draw limits but refuse to tell me what they are.

Is this love?
Tell me: Is this love?
Is love meant to hurt?

We spend time together and I start to relax.
Unguarded I talk to you.
I do not see you for weeks.Did I do something wrong?

Are you ashamed of me?
Of my weakness?
Or are you afraid of my strength?

I fell in love with you.
You do not feel the same.
I try to build a friendship on the sands of uncertainty.

I ask again.Is love meant to hurt like this?
If it is not?
I am doing it wrong.

Andy Fox 200214

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The child.

Too busy fighting battles that your forebears lost
you have lost sight of the present day.
Too busy calling the English your enemy to realize your own racism
you refuse to face the facts presented to you.
Too blinded by your sense of entitlement you refuse to
accept responsibility for your own actions.
Too blinkered to face the world as it is
you retreat to a time made as you wish it to be.
Too frightened to become an adult
you will forever remain a child..

Andy Fox 150214

Dedicated to the SNP and its followers.

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Another day.

So here we are and here we go.
Another day. Another road.
Through England to Scotland.
To Wales. To EIRE.
I go where e’re I am commanded to go.
I go where ever I am told.

Take me away from my home again.
Take me to pastures new.
Show me the sights I have not seen.
Show me the old sights renewed.
I shall tell them of you.

There are friendships lost and friendships gained.
I tell you this without self pity or shame.
I am not the easiest of men.
This much I know.
This much I have learned.

So here we are and here we go.
Another day.Another road.
Time to myself in public view.
Dare you ask me what I think of you?

Andy Fox 110214

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The Luddite.

Come out with me in the wind and snow
and I will show you what I know.
A dolly knot is a poem in the hand.
A sheet of canvas a song.
A long hard drive is a symphony.
Motorway driving a dirge.
The wages are low and the risks are high.
But this is my song.
The one I sing.
The song of the Luddite flatbed man.

Andy Fox 090214

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The daily war.

Not for me the daily war of working within brick built walls.
Not for me the nine to five.
Not for me the steady life.
I tried it for while.
Inside I died.

Instead I am out protected by steel and glass.
Nature is but an open door away.
Out in the wind and the driving rain.
Out in the summer breeze.
Out where I belong

Trapped within walls of stone my brain washed away.
I had a life where my insecurities held sway.
Depression held me close to her breast.
We loved but I dare not walk her road.

Out on my own.Self reliant.
Unconfidant of the world at large.
Knowing what I do best I drive.
I sort the world out behind my steering wheel.
It is still the same stinking mess when I return to it.

I stare unflinching at the daily war.
My internal conflicts battle the world outside.
The daily grind of confidence over ability.
I am told I undervalue myself.
I disagree.

Inside I would die but I will not give in.
Mistress Depression loved me once and would again.
You see I promised my boy I will outlive him.
I gave him my word that I will not lose the daily war.
This is my battlefield.
The war of life.

Andy Fox 080214

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The wyre

At last the wyre did grimly cringe.
At last foul air began to without.
No more the bean.
No more the sprout.
No more the egg and its foul odour.
No more the wind for I have let it all out.
No more the gagging noises off from behind.
No more the bean.
No more the sprout.

Andy Fox 060214

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