25 years on

Today marks the 25th anniversary of Dad's death (ok death is the polite way of saying murder).  A day that always brings a lot of emotion and questions and searching and seeking and yes crying too.  Last night I wrote this short poem to summarise how I was feeling.

25 years ago a bullet rang out and the doorbell announced an unexpected visitor

25 years ago a morning went from a day of possibility to a day of mourning 

25 years ago the watch you were wearing stopped ticking and so did your heart as you hit the floor 

25 years ago the ring you were wearing broke as did my my mothers heart 

25 years ago you were a story on the news  but you were more, a brother, a husband, a son, a father , a friend

25 years ago you still had the tickets for a family night out at the circus in your pocket but this was no laughing matter 

25 years ago no doubt you had a lovers tiff  but on that day you were a sacrifice on the alter of an nations tiff

25 years ago you left for work with a smile and a kiss and see you for dinner but that dinner never came 

25 years later I still have that watch and ring and circus tickets  and think if only I still had you what would my life be like

25 years later I hope this country is further on 

25 years later as a family we still remember but journey on. 

There's blood on the street

There’s blood on the street, and its been here before 

City in the throws of a heatwave as tempers reach an all time high.

Streets pounded, words spoken, fires stoked 

water cannon, plastic bullets, breeze blocks in mid air

there’s blood on the street, and its been here before 

the match is lit and somethings gonna burn 

tensions rising, flags flying, the bonfires still lit 

there’s blood on the street, and its been here before

fuel for early morning radio call in shows, 

flames that will burn in peoples hearts for months

sirens rage and warning bells ring in many minds

there’s blood on the street, and its been here before

images flooding TV screens, social networking going mad 

wasn’t that the road Obama cavalcade hurtled down?

now its the mob rushing down it without the fanfare 

not so much G8 but 1978 

there’s blood on the street, and its been here before  

there’s blood on the street, and its been here before 

theres blood on the street how long until its here no more?