The day the weather went mad
Was a day I thought I had been had,
By a weather extreme; quite obscene,
The day the weather went mad.
*****************
Author Archives: The Crazymad Writer
No Trespassing
No trespassing, that’s what the words read,
No trespassing, it’s what the sign said,
As I approached the gate upon which it was on,
The words, no trespassing, dared me to come on.
*
A voice in my head told me to ignore it, that sign,
It said there was something exciting to find,
In the field behind them, gate and its sign,
Are you afraid, the voice asked, or do you think I am lying?
*
No, I am not afraid, I answered it back,
My gut feeling, though, tells me to shy away from this tack,
Are you man or a mouse? It said mocking me so,
I am a man, I answered, a man on the go.
*
So I climbed over the gate and stepped into that field,
A green, luscious sward that was ever so still,
Seeing nothing at all, there, other than grass,
I wondered, yes wondered, where it was at.
*
Suddenly, startlingly, I heard a snort and a wheeze,
Then I saw it, a bull galloping towards me,
So I darted away from it as fast as I could,
And clambered back over that gate made of wood.
*
The moral of my story, my scary story, is this,
When out in the country give gates a miss,
Don’t listen to voices inside your head,
Stick to your gut feeling, it’s safer, instead,
**************
I don’t care WHAT you call me
as long as you enjoy reading y stories
**************
Africa, Africa, land of dark nights
Africa, Africa, land of dark nights,
Home of the many, home of the right,
A people once voiceless will have their time in the sun,
When prosperity follows and wars are all done.
*
Hunger and famine will be a thing of the past,
Dictators forgotten – Who were they? You ask,
The days will be brighter, that’s how it will be,
In Africa, Africa, the land of the free.
*********************
Today is the first day of the rest of your life.
Today is the first day
of the rest of your life
Flying high with The Crazymad Writer
Flying high with The Crazymad Writer
Is it a bird?
Or is it a plane?
No, it’s The Crazymad Writer!!!
*******
Cracked
Cracked
Some people might think that I am so cracked,
Two sheets to the wind, and that is a fact.
But I say it is they who are lacking of sorts,
Afraid to speak up, to convey their true thoughts.
*
To speak and to mean just what we might say,
Is honesty so lacking in the world of today.
If people joined in with this wonderful cause,
They would value and welcome and give it applause.
*
But people are strange; so nice to the face,
Then turning their back they fall down in disgrace,
Lying and cheating with no thought of the pain,
That neglecting truth causes, and who is to blame.
*
They just follow the herd, they follow the crowd,
Ticking off those who stand alone from the crowd,
Laughing at those two sheets in the wind,
Oblivious to the fact that they are happier than them.
*
If more people were ‘two sheets to the wind’,
More would be happier and less would have sinned.
***********
*****
Are You Normal?
Are You Normal?
Are you normal?
Do you want to be,
A faceless person in a heaving sea,
With no aims, ambitions, dreams or goals,
Just happily plodding along that road?
*
Are you slowly dying?
Don’t you feel the magic of each new day,
The sounds of laughter as children play,
The warmth of the sun on your back, so good,
The song of birds, the smell of wood?
*
Are you passing time?
Don’t you wonder at the sky, so blue,
The start and end so vague to you?
I hear you say, I am happy, still,
So too is an ant that has no will.
*
Wake up, wake up!
It’s not too late,
There still is time to change your fate,
Renounce the normal, do something MAD,
Shock them all create a fad.
*
Be yourself, alive with goals,
With dreams and wonders still untold,
Exult life in your own distinctive way,
It’s yours alone; you must have your say,
Lest you slip into oblivion (without a trace).
***************************
Where is the Map?
Where is the Map?
My bones are cold,
I found it hard to sleep last night,
My bones are old,
I’ll need more rest tonight.
*
If the weather turned warmer, and very soon,
I might just make it through till June,
I feel as though my end is neigh,
If it rains any more I will certainly cry.
*
Oh, where is the sun, has it forever gone?
Oh, where is the sun, is it on the run?
From me and you and them as well?
Are we just living in our own hell?
*
I need the light I crave the sun,
There must be more to life than run, run, run,
Trying to escape the hell of the poverty trap,
There must be more! Oh where is the map?
I must find the map!
******
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 
Some people think only of themselves
Some people think only of themselves
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Posted by The Crazymad Writer on May 4, 2014 in comment
Tags: inconsiderate, selfish, thumbs down