We Were A Rock (song lyric and link)

This is a little ditty (1.15) that I wrote a number of years ago and dared myself to play and sing on Soundcloud – apologies for the simplicity of the sentiments, oh – and the “singing” of course. At least it was my last attempt at song writing and singing. Let’s call it a demo.

Here is the Soundcloud link:

We Were A Rock.

Why are we still strangers?
Why can’t we be friends?
You know, like in the movies,
When the story ends.

Why, when I look in your eyes,
You always look away.
How is it, when I speak to you,
You never hear a word I say.

Why can’t we be lovers,
Like we used to do?
You know I felt so happy then,
Guess you felt it too.

We were a rock
We were a rock
We were a rock

But we had soul
But we had soul
But we had soul

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Losing My Religion

Losing My Religion Photo

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Currently Reading: “Phases of The Moon”

Just a quick note to mention Louise Hastings’ book “Phases of The Moon.” There are already a number of 5 star reviews on Amazon and elsewhere, but for the few that have not read it yet here is a link to my own review here: Phases of The Moon by Louise Hastings on Amazon UK.

and a link to the book itself here: Phases of The Moon.

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Currently Reading: “Dirty Beautiful Words”

I am currently reading Dirty Beautiful Words by the author, Brooklyn Brayl. You may recall that I posted a link (Promoting Writers page on Facebook) to their video on 3rd September, describing it as provocative.The same could be said for the book. The poetry throughout is very special for it describes the emotional and mental turmoil of someone who finds themselves trapped between genders. The journey, described through original and occasionally witty wordplay, is sometimes harrowing, ugly and depressing and yet the reader feels empathy and compassion.

It is available on Amazon – but you can find out more information here: http://www.brooklynbrayl.com/

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No Longer Human

Whatever could be said, between the living and the dead.

My heartbeat, amplified a thousand times, makes
me feel unsteady as I trample on the short grass.
So many white crosses, so close together,
I wonder if they speak to each other still.
Commenting on the intruders who stare at them.

Now, we are the ghosts who crush new life,
Creating bigger weapons to destroy new enemies.
In office-like surroundings we press the button
Leading to localised carnage, that we follow on video.
The bodies lie twisted and broken. No longer human.

 

poem © copyright Brian Shirra 2014

 

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