The Ancient Market

By Scott Bailey © 2015

There is an ancient market square
Where we all spend our lives
And round and round the stalls we pass
Consuming precious time

The gates are closed to hold us in
While hawkers hawk their wares
Criers cry of doom beyond
The solid steadfast walls

In their towers high above
Lords and ladies gaze
Down upon the writhing mass
And counting out their pay

Where’s the farmer in his field
Where the traveller strange
Where’s the road beyond the gates
Or the key to let us out

So on and on forevermore
We circle round the square
In trenches deep from shambling feet
Beneath the icy stare

Image from Pixabay

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

The Politician, The Voter and the Child

By Scott Bailey © 2015

You work hard

I struggle by

In the dark

You’re a hard-working family

To pay my bills

A silent dark

You deserve more

To keep my job

Shattered by

Respect and remuneration

My family safe

A scream so stark

Higher wage

Bills accrue

A sister torn

More tax

No breaks in sight

A mother too

Security

I am undermined

And then my turn

Here they come

By cheaper crews

To be their tool

To take your jobs

And labour pools

Alone I lived

We try to stop them

Let down by those

My family died

But the law demands

For who we fought a war

Alone I ran

Freedoms we ill afford

Belts pulled tight

Alone to hide

So we must let them in

Doors shut tight

Far away

We need your fear

As our land

Where wars don’t rage

So let us pass

Slips away

Across the sea

Stronger laws

Dreams of the past

Into a cage

And take your cash

Of golden days

And forms and forms

For a better way

Seem far away

And questions long

Altogether now

Every man for himself

And looks of scorn

Watch your backs

Seems the only way

And acts of wrong

Strengthen our national pride

So I must take a stand

Drowning in

Defend our ways

Against the tide

A stinking sea

Our traditions

That seems to me

I cry

Like class division

To rise and rise

No one pities me

And stay an island proud

To drown our island’s pride

No one pities me

Cold Hard Hate

By Scott Bailey © 2014

Cold hearted calls
Behind cold stone walls
Directed at a late great clown
Filled with such hate
And vitriol great
Delivered with thunderous frown

But they do not see
That we are free
From what they term belief
But hatred and fear
Will never come near
To dimming the laughter and grief

So go back to your knave
To the submission you crave
Kneel with the weight of your hate
Lower your head
Grovel with dread
But you will never ever create

Image from Pixabay

The Voice

By Scott Bailey © 2014

There’s a voice I know
From way down deep
Fuelled by wars
That never sleep
It’s warm but still will be
Ever lonely

It sings of thoughts
And curses old
Soothes the weak
And beats the bold
Finds us in our weeping
And our fury

It moves our walls
And wayward paths
Offends our truths
With staggered hearts
Weaves its way into our
Very grieving

I wonder now
At all the cost
And when at last
No wars are lost
Will the voice still find its way
Towards us

Or will it fall
In silence then
The broken harp
The dried up pen
Or will we hear the whispered
Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Image from Pixabay

Feel

By Scott Bailey © 2018

When was the last time
You really felt
The weave of a really
Good fabric
Wool or tweed?
Or the tickling temptation
Of lace
Over smooth, warm skin.
Or shivered in the dark
Back against the rough
Hard bark of a trunk?
The screen steals our eyes
And the other senses
Wither

Image from Pixabay

Districts

By Scott Bailey © 2018

These areas
Our neighbourhoods
Will become districts
Classified by wealth
Worth
Class
And faceless systems
Will place us
Where they see fit

Image from Pixabay

Economists

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Priests
Determining the will
Of their god
Deciding
Which lives will be sacrificed
To keep it from failing
And flailing its limbs in a frenzy
That will crash and smash
The mighty of the land
So the weak are thrown
To its lack of mercy
To spend their blood
At the will of the priests
Known as
Economists

Image from Pixabay

Black and White

By Scott Bailey © 2014

A black and white film
About black and white issues
With grey morals on display
In our multicoloured 3D world
What has really changed
Injustice still looks the same

By Moni3 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

The News

By Scott Bailey © 2013

What’s behind the story
What is the reason for that news
Who gets the benefit, the prize
The envelope with the bread
The law successfully passed
The company tracked greased
Somebody’s life made easier
At the cost of somebody else

Image from Pixabay

Cable Ties

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Cables tie us
Hold us tight
To one spot
Even invisible ones
Chains
Keeping us busy
Keeping us attentive
Keeping us productive
and consuming
So when they are cut
We are lost
Unable to produce
As we once did

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

The World in a Book

By Scott Bailey © 2013

The world in a book
For my son
To show him the places
Across the seas
That he dreams of.
The colours,
The creatures,
The cultures and the clashes.
The world in a book in his hands
As one day
The world will be in his hands.

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Undermine

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Background contempt
Background fear
Background doubt
Background shame
It’s there
Undetected
Subtle
In the everyday babble
Insidious
Designed
To keep us down
So
Find the right song
To drown it out
And live
A better
Life

Image from Pixabay

Revision

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Swirling in the mists of history
Mystic figures whirl
Dark silhouettes of dangerous men
Stride along with pride.

A flash of a sword, the chord of a song
the clash of a shield, the beat of a drum.
The roar of a fire in a welcome hearth.
The hearty sound of the comrades’ laugh.

The scent of a feast, the warmth of the soup.
The strength of the beams over the hall
The smoke rising up into the straw
All of this and still there’s more.

A cold wind blows, the mist rolls back,
To show the cold hard facts.

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Archive

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

Index

By Scott Bailey © 2018

The beginning
And the end
Where we start
Into the web
Where we end
A story

Image from Pixabay

Present Ideas

If you are stuck for ideas – here are a few. They are original and different – plus being ebooks they have the advantage of not being hindered by delivery issues 🙂


Mankind Limited

Mankind Limited

Marc trudged on with life, marching in line with his fellow workers. Weighed down by the everyday burdens of life, the pressure to conform, to succeed or face destitution.

Yet he knew, in his heart that it was all wrong, the questions squirmed like fiery dragons in the pit of his heart, beneath his deepest darkest doubts.

Until they grew and burst his sanity, set him on a path of defiance and rebellion. A path that would cross three others – all like him seeking answers.

A path of danger and adventure that would see him marked as a terrorist and fleeing for his life. It would see him find love and heartbreak, hope and despair, Most of all, it would open his eye to the possibility of an ancient and powerful secret that might answer all his doubts and fears.

If he survived.

Buy Now


Thirteen Tales

Thirteen Tales of Ghosts Cover

As the title says – thirteen tales about ghosts. Yet, while ghosts feature in them all – not all are traditional ghost stories.

You will find the vengeful spirit but also the plaintiff one. The haunting message from the past and the playful spirits capturing the joy of their past lives.

Some of these visitors from beyond lead the haunted to peace and joy – others take them on much darker paths to places with no return.

Enjoy them – just don’t get too comfortable.

Buy Now


A Spring of Dreams

A Spring of Dreams

Three hundred and sixty-five poems in all shapes and sizes, sprung from dreams and emotion. Published day after day for a year. There are haiku, sonnets, katauta, lanturnes and many other forms – including free form. The moods are as varied as the forms and often reflect my mood on the day. There is sadness and grief, joy and love.

If nothing else – these can provide a small moment in everyone’s stressful lives to stop and contemplate the world in a different way.

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Andervayne’s Dream

In these times of quick gratification and short attention spans, I decided to try and buck the trend and present something not only with greater length but also depth.

The poems in this collection were written over a long period and for different purposes. They are varied but they are all long. And they all represent challenges. Each was a challenge to myself, to sustain a quality of writing for a long period and within tight constraints of form while still telling a story. They also represent and challenge to the reader. The challenge to throw off the pressure of everyday life, the pressure to hurry, hurry, hurry to take the time to read something, absorb it over time.

Such effort needs reward, these poems should not be a one-time quick fix. If the reader is going to put that effort in then there should be a payoff, they should be able to continue to get something from it afterwards. Whether that be from contemplation of what they have digested or from revisiting, rereading and seeing things they missed the first time around. So the final challenge to me was to provide this depth of content – not just quantity.

Buy now


The Colour of Dreams

The Colour of Dreams

I was perusing my poetry collection with the intention of putting together a collection of new, largely unpublished poems. This collection is not that. As I was going through all my poems I noticed that I have a tendency to use colours in the titles, and even when I do not the poem is often rooted in the idea of colour.

So, I decided to do a second collection while I was at it. A collection of poems bound together by the theme of colour. A spectrum of thoughts and moments reflecting the infinite colour and variety of the universe in which we dwell.

This collection is presented here.

By here


The Well of Sunken Dreams

The Well of Sunken Dreams

Being a middle-aged aged man – I do middle-aged man things. Sometimes. One is meeting with my middle-aged friend and getting nostalgic over a pint or two of beer.

Like many others.

We contemplate how things were better, how the youth of today are missing out on what he had.

Out of these conversations came a realisation, one that we found was articulated with frightening clarity by Mark Fisher in “Capitalist Realism, Is there No Alternative”. He makes the observation that we are of a generation that was sold a dream, a dream that did not come true. We were told that if we worked hard, and dedicated ourselves we would do well.

Well we did, work hard, for many years. Blood sweat and tears making our employees successful, generating profit and success.

But not for us. We still struggle in the day to day reality. We fight the rising cost of living and the shadow that were a few bad weeks away from homelessness or worse.

The dreams was a lie. And there is nothing left we can do about it.

This collection of poems is a reflection of my thoughts about this and other darker aspects of modern life. In my other collections I like to balance this side of my ruminations with more optimistic explorations. This did not seem appropriate here. This is my equivalent of a grunge phase.

It also contains largely previously unpublished works that have not appeared anywhere else.

So, stick on those goth tunes and wallow in the well of sunken dreams.

By now


Sit

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Sit
And write
In response
To the prompt
Sit
If only
I could find the time
To just sit
And think
And write
Instead of fighting
Life

The Lyrics that Pluck at You

By Scott Bailey © 2014

I enjoy revisiting old favourites. Especially music. Bands, songs, albums that have lain dormant for ages – years sometimes. Neglected and forgotten about. Legends!

For the car recently I created a new playlist – a bit more mellow that normal. Instead of picking songs I just added all the songs I have from four different artists. These were ClannadEnyaPink Floyd and Leonard Cohen.

As I listened there was a song that I have probably heard many many times before Leonard Cohen’s The Window. It passed me by, in the background – I liked it but didn’t really notice. This time it was different. This time it was one of those occasions when suddenly – for inexplicable reasons the lyric reached out and plucked at me, played me, struck me as beautiful, strange and haunting – just how they are sung. They were.

Oh chosen love, Oh frozen love
Oh tangle of matter and ghost
Oh darling of angels, demons and saints
And the whole broken-hearted host
Gentle this soul

I wonder why. I wonder what it is that made me hear those lyrics properly for the first time after I don’t know how many times before.

One of the mysteries and wonders of really good music.

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Strength in Difference

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Handicap
A word defunct
As we remember
Difference
Is strength
Not
Inferiority

Image from Pixabay

Shadows

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Our voices are simply the shadows
Cast by our dreams and our thought
If the shadows become ineffectual
Then our voices will end up as naught
Yet shadows can give us the outline
Of what is looming above
If we take note of the darkness
We can give those dreams a shove
One thing we must yet remember
To give those shadows a shape
Sunlight is needed behind it
From brightness, the dreams will escape

Image from Pixabay

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Modern Times

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Primary colours or simple fruit
Clickety click click and point.
Open the way to a blind deluge
Illuminate the mind

Bright blinding highway – superfast.
On a never-ending roll
Swallow it all until we drown
Where is the straw of truth?

Image from Pixabay

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Uncaring Mirth

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Laughter echoes
In rarefied halls
Between clinks from glasses
Raised in champagne toasts
While expensive soles
Walk heavy
On broken dreams and despair

Image from Pixabay

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

The Cracked Vase

By Scott Bailey © 2013

The vessel is cracked
Still holds the sacred blooms
Still revered
Though the blooms are without root
Rootless. Dying.

Still revered.
Water though refreshed,
Still stagnates
Dead blooms replaced
With freshly cut.

Repetition
Builds a patina of respect
Authority
Habit.

The vessel is cracked
Empty of life
Yet forever filled
and revered.

Image from Pixabay

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

The Show

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Bug me, drug me
You’ll never touch my mind
Not that you want to
Afraid of what you’ll find

Afraid of the secrets
of someone in the know
Afraid of the exposure
of your elaborate show

So go on with your programme
Sticking to the script
Until the day you are aware
You’re playing in a crypt

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

The New

By Scott Bailey © 2013

The new can’t replace the should have been
The should have been haunts us forever
Though the new will be a healer
And receive all our love just the same.
It’s pointless being angry at fate
But that doesn’t stop the burn
The frisson on top of everyday stress
For the should have been we always yearn.
The new will have its own should have been.
So maybe we will understand.
And make a happier life will be.
At least that is the plan.

Image from Pixabay

Shall We March

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Shall we march?
Shall we shout?
Or kneel
And take it
As always
A turn our eyes away
To bright distractions

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt March

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Precedent

By Scott Bailey © 2018

In this mess
It must cross our minds
When Parliament fails us
There is a
Precedent
To remove them

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Precedent

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

The Return of the Landowner Regime

By Scott Bailey © 2018

The redistribution of wealth from the masses to the very rich minority continues apace. The groundwork has been laid.

First, we were seduced with the idea of quick riches – that we could join that elite. Invest in stock and shares – and be a part of our club they said – while they sold off our services.

Be free of your landlord – they said – own your own home – they say – while they sold off social housing.

Invest in your future – save for a rainy day – build your pension pot they said – while they took that money for their own ends.

With the rise of the subscription services model – we no longer own anything. Gone are record collections and family libraries – to be replaced with an intangible library

And now – the pressures start. Our kids start their adult lives saddled with debt from just educating themselves. We, their parents are so under pressure from austerity that we cannot support them. Remortgage after remortgage – after all nothing is as safe as houses.

But when the time comes and we look for our pensions – they are not there! They have underperformed or have just been stolen – gone into the black hole of bankrupt companies.

And then – surprise, surprise – there are suddenly all these companies that can help – with equity release or webuyanyhouse.com quick sale promises. All that property – that once belonged to us all – that we dreamed of passing down to our children is being hoovered up. They will end up in the hands of a very few large property magnates.

And we will be back in a feudal society once more. When everything is owned by a few – power will be theirs.

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Estate

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Chance

By Scott Bailey © 2018

For the sake of one
Stray meteor dinosaurs
Might exist today

Image from Pixabay

In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #230 Exist&Today

#amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

 

Respect

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Respect is
Expected
Everywhere you go
Respect my rights
My views
My thoughts
We have forgotten
Respect
Should be earned
Not expected
Mutual
And reciprocated

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Respect

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Same

By Scott Bailey © 2015

Same, same, same
Same job
Same problems
Same pressure
I am wood
Not stone

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Pressure

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Insurance

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Insurance
Remember
we have none
On the earth

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Insurance

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Hooked

By Scott Bailey © 2018

From the symbol of peace
Comes a stealthy killer
Seductive and insidious
Giving all
It appears
But taking all
Even tears

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Heroin

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

David

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Leading with honour
Bonding with friendship, not fear
True path to glory

Image from Pixabay

In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #227 Truth&Honor but also inspired by David Attenborough’s latest masterpiece Dynasties

#amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

 

Mosaics

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Little pieces
Torn from our hearts
Rearranged memories
Making pictures
To last through time
Until the days
When they are no longer
Remembered
Just seen
As a mystery
From the past

Photo by Scott Bailey

In response to my daily prompt Mosaic

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Danger

By Scott Bailey © 2014

An ice warning sign
A dark winding country road
Still, they whizz on by

 

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Warning

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Puzzle

By Scott Bailey © 2018

There is a puzzle
Seen from way up on high, that
Only birds can solve

Image from Pixabay

In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #226 Question&Resolve

#amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

 

Tropical

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Global warming
You might think
It will bring us tropical summers
It won’t
It will freeze us
Before it burns us

Image from PIxabay

In response to my daily prompt Tropical

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Quitters

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Is it coincidence
That those that urged us to leave
Have left

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Coincidence

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Carrot

By Scott Bailey © 2018

The carrot
Is getting bigger
Nearer
More tantalising

Imagine the stick to follow

Image from Pixabay

 

In response to my daily prompt Carrot

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Late

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Eleven fifty
Nine and almost out of time
Yet still ploughing on

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Late

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Fake Fights, Fake Friends

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Who’s in partnership with who?
Are those that fight really enemies?
Is it all a show?
Distracting us from the truth
While they steal from us
Freedom, wealth and everything

 

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Partnership

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Pigeon

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Flying is an art
The pigeon needs no compass
To find its way home

Image from Pixabay

In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #224 Art&Compass

#amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

 

Traits

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Ruthlessness
Meanness
These are the traits
The media feeds us
Tells us we need
To succeed
Thus preparing us
For exploitation

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Trait

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Jockeys

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Small
But in control
Determined
Light touch
On throbbing power
Riders

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Trainer

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Running

By Scott Bailey © 2018

Running
So fast we run
Stay ahead of the game
This is the story we are sold
Suckers

Justyn Warner

In response to my daily prompt Resolution

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

www.scottandrewbailey.uk