SOME POEMS - 1990s
FADED DREAMS
A cigarette packet jumps at the match, nobody loves us anymore.
We’d rather eat ‘Mars Bars’ and drink milk.
Than have a long-slow-screw against the wall.
So what is happening to you?
What is happening to me?
We’d rather sit watching paint dry
and wait for the cow to jump over the moon.
Empty glasses wait to be filled and beer mats begged to be torn into two.
Looking around at the spots on the wall,
haven’t we been here before?
So much has happened we don’t wish to be seen, hiding behind papers and books.
While people get tortured and killed on the street,
you’d rather watch ‘Blind Date’ than believe it’s all real.
So what is happening to you?
What is happening to me?
We’d rather sit watching paint dry
and wait for the cow to jump over the moon.
But I’m sure it’ll all go away.
If we close our eyes tightly and cross all our fingers.
The tooth-fairy will make it okay.
We’ll wake up tomorrow and it’s all been a dream.
But the sky is still grey and the sun’s gone to bed,
we just sit here and twiddle our fingers.
Can’t think of what to say, it’s all been said anyway.
It’s all been said in so many ways.
So what has happened to you?
What has happened to me?
We’d rather sit watching paint dry
and wait for the cow to jump over the moon.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1991)
WHY DO MEN ABUSE WOMEN?
Getting drunk on a Friday night,
Telling dirty jokes with the lads.
Touching women up and putting them down.
Abusing their bodies all over town.
Why do men abuse women?
Why do men keep women in fear?
Women getting beaten, women getting bruised,
Women getting raped and women getting used.
Women being carers, women being lovers.
Women being mums and women being workers.
So why do men abuse women?
Why do men keep women in fear?
But men think it’s funny, men think it’s fun.
Is it really cool that pinch on the bum?
Porn books and videos, a grope in the dark.
A touch at the disco,
and raped in the park.
So why do men abuse women?
Why do men keep women in fear?
Whistled in the street,
abused on the phone.
Fear on the bus and when walking alone.
Taken for granted, treated like a slave.
Just there for sex,
use and throw away.
So why do men abuse women?
Why do men keep women in fear?
But how would we feel if we were treated that way?
Does it make us feel clever?
Does it make us feel brave?
Does it make us feel powerful?
Make us feel strong?
Does it make us feel good,
to do others down?
So why do men abuse women?
Why do men keep women in fear?
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1990)
RALLY ROUND THE FLAG
So don’t dilly-dally boys, rally round the flag.
Crawl out of bed and go down to the square.
Don’t dilly-dally boys, sign on the line.
Marching in the rain,
going off to die.
The cry goes up and the banners start to wave.
The canon roars loud and the crowd starts to cheer.
Looking around for someone to blame.
They’re over the water,
let’s go and save our name.
Looking for faces that seem different to us.
Scrabbling around in the pain, shit and blood.
Doing unto others what we’d hate done to us.
But we’ve got God and Jesus,
marching behind us.
So don’t dilly-dally boys, rally round the flag.
Crawl out of bed and go down to the square.
Don’t dilly-dally boys, sign on the line.
Marching in the rain,
going off to die.
There’s not much happening exciting here.
We feel so small, used and given up.
We see other people who have more than us.
Let’s just go and take it,
we’re stronger that’s enough.
So don’t dilly-dally boys, rally round the flag.
Crawl out of bed and go down to the square.
Don’t dilly-dally boys, sign on the line.
Marching in the rain,
going off to die.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1990)
IF THE CHILD INSIDE COULD SPEAK
Sitting in the corner, curled up small.
Hiding my face, back to the wall.
Knees pulled up to my chin.
Defences up, letting no one in.
Hiding my shame, hiding my past.
Hiding my hurt, deep in my heart.
Letting no one know me inside.
Letting no one see me cry.
Hiding my hurt, hiding my pain.
Keeping the guilt going, driving me insane.
Feeling dirty, feeling used.
I’m so scared and confused.
And lonely.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1990)
WANDERING
We may be wandering,
all around the world.
We may be wondering,
where to stop or where to go.
We may be wandering.
We may be wandering.
We may be wandering.
But we’ve got each other,
that’s all we know.
Not knowing where to turn,
or where to run or hide.
Protecting each other,
from the evilness that is outside.
We may be wandering.
We may be wandering.
We may be wandering.
But we’ve got each other,
that’s all we know.
The streets they say are paved with gold,
but we haven’t seen it yet.
All we see is pain and hurt,
on a person’s lonely face.
We may be wandering.
We may be wandering.
We may be wandering.
But we’ve got each other,
that’s all we know.
But we haven’t given up,
we’re just shopping around.
There’s so much that’s painful.
But we’ve got each other,
to survive the hurt.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1991)
BROKEN HEARTS
Too many broken hearts are scattered on the lake.
In the park.
Down the street.
Around the Town.
Through the dark.
The tears keep flowing down the window pain.
Past my eyes.
Down my cheek.
Into the drain.
Too many broken hearts wandering without an aim.
Through the streets.
Within the park.
Around the Town.
Through the dark.
All direction is softly blown away.
Into the air.
On a breeze.
Through the clouds.
Far away.
Trying to reach out and grab what is there.
But it slips.
It falls.
It slides.
It tears.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1990)
Page Last Updated - 17/08/2011
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