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Message in the Rhyme

 
 

Simon Icke has personally selected twenty-three of his poems for M.E. Support covering a range of subjects. You have permission from both Simon and M.E. Support to copy them to your friends or family. Please do not alter the poems and ensure that you include the title and credit. To enquire about Simon's work, please contact him directly at poetsimon@aol.com.

 
 

I am what I am
by Simon Icke UK

 

So you think I'm a complex man,
is that who I am?
Why try and work me out?
I'll only leave you with some doubt.
We are all unique,
yes, even you and me,
I'm sure you agree. 

I'm no crowd pleaser,
just a word teaser.

I'm just an ordinary man;
"I am what I am".

No trend setter,
no go getter,
no position seeker,
no power climber.

Just a word rhymer,
a letter writer,
a campaign fighter,
maybe a 'fire starter'
of issues; an agitator,
or a motivator.

The power is in the written word,
mightier than the sword,
no gimmicks
or slimy tricks,
no party politics...
but an independent activist. 

I won't judge you,
so don't judge me
and let me write free;
if you believe in democracy,
then let people find their own story,
that's hidden in the poetry

 
 

Love one another
by Simon Icke UK

 

Give love and a smile;
It will take you and others that extra mile.
For what you give you will receive,
No better time to give, than Christmas eve. 

Imagine what a world it would be,
If I loved you and you loved me.
If we multiplied this love to everyone we know;
It wouldn't be long before it started to grow.

Jesus came into the world, to show us the way;
To love one another every day.
At Christmas time, we celebrate His birth,
So let's try and remember why He came to this earth.

 
 

URBAN BREAKDOWN
by Simon Icke UK

 

Urban breakdown, society in turmoil,
we used to live simply, off the working man's toil.
Communities stuck together, in good times and bad,
Good family values are what we had.

Then life became too busy, chasing materialistic ideals,
no time to talk to each other; over family meals.
Greed and selfishness crept in,
and living together was no longer a sin.

Money and false celebrities became the gods,
and going to church was no longer mod.
People became indifferent
and good friends distant.

Now we have so many lives in a muddle,
with so many young mums left to struggle.
What happened to free love, the '60's dream?
Why did our lives turn out so mean?

How sad to see so many relationships fail.
No one said the liberal life, would have such a sting in the tail.
Whether you live in the country the city or town,
we are all paying the price of the urban breakdown.

 
 

Save Us
by Simon Icke UK

 

Save the planet from pollution.
Does anyone have the solution?
Save your soul and find redemption,
Lord deliver us from temptation. 

Save our world from the bomb,
Who else has the atom?
War in Afghanistan; live in fear.
Is it true the end is near? 

Save the foxes from the dogs,
Is anyone interested in saving frogs?
Elephants, tigers, pandas and whales,
Does anyone care about the snails? 

Save us from fast drivers in our village,
What next rape and pillage?
Crime and violence in our street.
Where are the police? In retreat.

Phew! It's getting hotter!
Global warming does it matter?
Climate change the new quasi religion,
with high prices that give you indigestion.
Just pay up and don't question. 

Save us from these gloomy thoughts,
I'm sure it will all come to nought.
It's not yet time for the requiem,
So let's enjoy life until then.

 
 

Looking for God in a hard World
by Simon Icke UK

 

Looking for God in a hard world is not easy.
Does anyone care about the poor and needy?
Why are the rich so greedy?
Some people say there is no God,
But with the next breath they blame Him, isn't that odd?
And the humanist and atheists think the 're so mod.

Violence, wars and hatred, famine and drought,
Now earthquakes and tsunamis; without warning;
The reality of man's precarious state is now dawning.

The world is in such turmoil, it's in such a mess,
It's so easy to say why should we care about the rest?
But hasn't man contributed to most of this unrest?

Perhaps after God's creation,
He just forgot to mention,
There would be lots of tension.
However, good will prevail over evil in the end,
And forgiveness a broken relationship will mend.
Wasn't Jesus sent to be our Saviour and our friend?

Jesus offered salvation to all who follow;
He said, 'I am the way, the truth and the life'.
(I can save you from this world of strife).
So now that we know our fragility,
perhaps more people will think of eternity?

Ask and it will be given,
Knock and the door will be opened,
Seek and you will find.

 
 

Depression
by Simon Icke UK

 

Down, down I feel so low.
Trapped in a tunnel, with nowhere to go.
Cut myself off from all my friends,
I'll work this out in the end.
Dark, dark that feeling inside,
Nothing looks good; I just want to hide.
There must be some people in whom I can confide,
Understanding friends, who are on my side?
One day at a time is what I hear,
No need to live life full of fear.
Do you really need that anti-depressant pill?
With hindsight every mountain becomes a molehill.
Don't give in to this dark mood,
Fun and laughter can be your food.
Love yourself and say, 'I am what I am.'
Ignore this hard world you know you can.
Just take the time to work this out,
To overcome a life full of self doubt.
Jesus loves you, the way you are.
You are unique, you're a star.

 
 

HOW DO YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS TO BE ME?
by Simon Icke UK

 

How do you know how it feels to be me?
There's a lot more to me than what you see.
Have you felt the same hurts and pain?
We've lived different lives, we are not the same.
I'm simply trying to rebuild
a life worth having; in this hard world.
I'm surviving the trials of everyday living.
Oh why can you not be more forgiving?
Your careless hard words, if only you knew,
how they cut me through and through;
even though I make no judgement on you.
I wonder if you realise,
just how much you offend,
with your cruel words; that you sometimes send.
I would just love to be well, like you my friend;
I really hope that I'm on the mend.
And that my painful journey is near its end.

 
 

What Wonder is this?
by Simon Icke UK

 

I stand so small in this big wide world.
Looking up to the heavens; stars in vast array.
What wonder is this too much to contemplate?
Does my life matter in this amazing creation?
Where does my destiny lie? Where will it end?
How can my mind take in this infinite wisdom?
To think man in his arrogance can ignore all this.

I stand here in awe of God,
Just a speck of dust in the universe,
Just one person in the sea of humanity,
Yet, what I do and say, does make a difference.
What wonder is this mysterious paradox?
One day all my questions will be answered,
All will be revealed in eternity.

 
 

Lest We Forget
by Simon Icke UK

 

Have we forgotten their ultimate sacrifice?
Of these men and women who died in their millions?
Brave and true, without question,
proud to be British, not ashamed to be Christian.

So many years have passed,
it seems our memory doesn't last.
Forgetting these courageous people, to our shame.
Why can't we remember their names?

How short is our memory?
That we have forgotten them already?
Died in their millions fighting for our freedom,
believing in our free democratic ideology. 

What does it take to wake up this country,
to rise once again from its complacency?
How much more do we take, before we decide to fight,
for our beliefs, our traditions and our liberty?

 
 

War Has No Winners
by Simon Icke UK

 

When will man ever learn?
What wisdom needed to discern?
No killing is above the law,
No winners in any war.
 'We won't put up with their threats,
 We'll kill the enemy with our jets,
Top brass to control the press,
 Tell the truth more or less.'
 'Collateral Damage' is what they call it;
Don't like to say what caused it.
 Innocent people blown to pieces,
 Don't mention this in press releases.
 It seems we never learn from history,
Finding a peaceful solution still a mystery.
We live the lie of "war and glory".
War has no winners, is the truthful story.

 
 

Living in the Fast Lane
by Simon Icke UK

 

Life's so quick; life's so fast,
at this rate will I last?
How on earth will I stay sane?
Living in the fast lane.
Peace of mind I have no more,
simple life has gone for sure.
Always wanted in constant demand,
mobile in car, mobile in hand.
No time to talk to an old friend,
new friend computer, says 'press and send'
Half hour lunch, if you are lucky!
Eat whilst running, your fast food Kentucky.
Send a letter. It takes too long,
fax and email are the new song.
Internet instant message has just beckoned,
chat to global village in a second.
How long can I keep up this pace?
Will I ever finish theNew Worldrace?
My life is spinning out of control.
A high price to pay, for selling my soul.

 
 

Bonfire Night memories
by Simon Icke UK

 

It's bonfire night and the sky
is full of crackles and bangs,
brightly coloured lights.
The damp November air;
full of gunpowder and
the smell of fires
and smoke
everywhere! 

Oh how I love this atmosphere.
If only I had someone to tell about
'our penny for the guy'
or the terrific bonfires we built.
I have the honour of lighting it,
with lighted match, hands shaking,
searching for dry paper.
Then little fires start to build inside;
the first smell of smoke
as wood starts to light,
this is just the beginning alright.
'It's lit! it's lit!' everyone shouts.
I remember the flames,
that licked the sleepers dry,
swirling bright yellow flames,
leaping higher and higher,
'can't you just feel that fire!'
The heat on my face,
' look my coat is steaming!'
Excited faces all around,
Dad saying 'be careful son.
'Don't get too near that fire
or that air bomb that didn't go off,
it could explode at any second!'
Don't worry Dad, I'm alright.
(never felt better in fact)

This is definitely the best night,
It is just so brilliant it is.
Oh if only I was still a kid,
I'd be outside right now with my friends,
eyes wide open trying to take it all in,
ears primed; ready for the big bangs,
deciding which firework to light next.
Not sitting here enjoying my memories
of November the fifth's gone by---
Just sat at my computer, writing this.

 
 

Family Holiday
by Simon Icke UK

 

It's the time of year for the family treat,
time to leave our little street.
Stopped the milk, stopped the papers,
don't forget to tell the neighbours.
The car is packed to the hilt;
it looks as though it's on a tilt.
On the motorway in a jam,
this is no way to get a tan!

Bed & Breakfast or Self Catering?
Which holiday will you be taking?
Mum's not cooking anymore;
she wants a break from family chores. 

On the beach, jump in the sea,
there's lots of fun for you and me.
Sandcastles to build, shells to collect,
catch a crab in your net. 

Tall and thin, short and fat,
'Surely I don't look like that?'
'Where's my hat? My head is burning!'
It's the same each year, you are never learning!'
Promenading in the evening,
be careful, what you're seen in.
Boy catches the eye of a lovely girl;
enough to send his heart in a twirl. 
People watching, happy faces.
Chatter, chatter in so many places.
Old people sat in deck chairs,
remembering the fun of youth,
at seaside fairs. 

Two weeks are up; it has gone so fast,
I thought it was too good to last!
Say goodbye to friends you've made
and don't forget to forget to take home,
your bucket and spade.'
See you next year!

 
 

Touchline Shouting
by Simon Icke UK

 

Touchline shouting, that's all I ever hear,
I'm so confused and filled with fear.
I'm only ten years old and football should be fun,
But with all this noise I don't know which way to run.
"Get back in defence!" my manager shouts.
Dad shouts, "Get up front and deal with these louts!"
Loud mouth supporter, who knows all the rules.
(He takes the rest of us for fools)
Shouts, "What are you doing lad? Your head's in a spin!"
Is it any surprise, with all this din?
I am only a boy, so why do you all try to destroy, what I'd love to enjoy?
FOOTBALL SHOULD BE FUN!

 
 

THE SOUND OF CHILDRENS FEET
by Simon Icke UK

 

Down our street it's ever so neat,
You rarely hear the sound of children's feet.
Tidy gardens and pretty flowers,
No factory chimneys or towers.
Commuters who come home in their company cars,
That look at us as though we're from mars.
We are supposed to be seen and not heard,
Dare we not say a word?
They don't want us to be normal kids playing skating
and
Football in the road.
Maybe it's because they are getting old?
Have they forgotten what it's like to be a child?
Expecting us to be so meek and mild.
Did they ever kick a ball in the street or
Make the sound of childrens' feet?

 
 

Young versus Old in Irwell Road (Little Hulton, Salford)
by Simon Icke UK

 

Down our Little Hulton, Irwell Road,
It's: 'Young versus Old'. 
Us lads don't want to play with toys, 
We want to play football and make a noise. 

We play from morning till night; 
Sometimes under the street light 
And sometimes in the garages 
For our real 'championship games'. 
But Mrs Harrison tells us to move 
And calls us all kind of bad names... 
'I'll let you know..I don't approve! 
And she even threatens to keep our ball 
If it goes over her garden wall. 

I sometimes wonder 
If these 'old fogies' ever played football in the road? 
And how can we ever make it, 
If we don't have the chance to fake it? 
We want to pretend we're Bolton, United or City 
In fact whoever we 'wanna be'... 
We just want to be free to play football in the road. 

Old folks if only you'd come and see 
Us boys play football in the street 
You'd see real talent at every poor lads feet, 
You'd see Bolton beat United six three, 
And players like Shaun, Andy, Kevin and me. 

To us there is nothing better than... 

Playing football in our Irwell Road. 
Please don't stop us because you're old! 

 
 

Moving On
by Simon Icke UK

 

This is my time,
I've lived your time,
I've found a new rhyme;
Time to move,
Time to grove,
Time to search a new life,
Turn my back on this strife.

Searching and spinning,
Looking and waiting,
This is me, moving on,
Old life gone.

What's on offer?
Something new?
Something for the few?
Time for a life review?
Think you know me?
Looking cool I see,
Happy are we?

Searching and spinning,
Looking and waiting,
This is me, moving on,
Old life gone.

 This is me, living a new life,
Say goodbye to old life.
This is me, moving on.
Why not come with me?
This journey's free.
You know you can,
I could be your man?

 Searching and spinning,
Looking and waiting,
This is me, moving on,
Old life gone,
Old life gone,
I'm moving on.

 
 

The Thin looking Ghost
by Simon Icke UK

 

One night I met a ghost.
He was looking for a friendly host. 
I said,' You are looking very thin,
you had better come on in.'

 'Would you like a piece of toast?'
He replied, 'I'd rather have a Sunday roast'
So there we sat, trying to get him fat,
a three hundred-year-old ghost called Nat. 

We had a beer and he came over queer,
and he quickly began to disappear.
So that was the end of Nat;
who never did get fat!

 
 

LOOK DOWN TO NO ONE
by Simon Icke UK

 

It's dangerous to generalise and say
'they are all no good'.
Different gifts and talents are needed,
I'm sure that's understood.
Do you feel superior?
or is it really fear?
Put away your prejudice
and your bigoted idea.
You're equal to the next person,
no better or no worse.
Try saying something positive,
instead of the usual curse.
Everyone's a child of God,
everyone's unique,
So let's look down to no one
and offer friendship when we meet.

 
 

It's not my fault
by Simon Icke UK

 

'It's not me it's the others.
It's me that always suffers!'
'Always blame the other guy,
don't listen to that lie!'

'It's not my fault;
you know it never is,
they're wrong, I'm right,
that's the way it is!' 

'Look in the mirror,
if only you could see,
what others try to tell you,
then you might be free.' 

'Sorry... at last I realise,
it's not your fault, it's me'.

 
 

My upside down inside out girl
by Simon Icke UK

 

You're my upside down inside out girl.
Left is right and right is left.
'It's toast on cheese and toast on egg';
stop it falling with a peg!
It's inside when you mean outside
and outside when you mean inside.
So you are out when you you're in
and in when you're out!
It's no wonder I start to doubt.
Go down when you mean up
and up when you mean down.
Such information makes me frown;
especially when we arrive in the wrong town!
'Is it left or right?'
'I don't know!'
Well it makes life interesting,
wondering which way to go.
'I know being dyslexic
means you can't be specific
but I think one of these days,
we'll end up in the Pacific!'

 
 

I am what I am, just an ordinary fan
by Simon Icke UK

 
I am not your modern day footballer
who collects his wages in a hay loader ...
from the Premier League pay loader;
aided by Sky TV and now BT money bag dream makers;
so happy to pay 'the fakers and the takers' on and off the field. 
and so happy to take hard earned brass from the working class.
 
I’m just an ordinary fan;
“I am what I am”.
What happened to the working man's game?
hijacked by those who just seek money and fame,
which just isn't funny;
to those who follow the game,
it's a crying shame,
to forget your roots like that!
 
No I'm no trend setter,
no go getter,
no position seeker,
no power climber.
no football cheater
no racist banter
no foul mouthed ranter
no 'prima donna'.
 
I’m no crowd pleaser just a word teaser, 
who's trying to fool ya.
Just a football fan, that's who I am.
Perhaps a word rhymer,
a letter writer,
a campaign fighter,,
or a motivator.
 
The power is in the written word; 
mightier than all the chairmen of the board.
No streets here paved with football gold;
paid for by the poor fans I'm told.
 
No money to line my pockets,
no gimmicks,
no greedy agents 
with slimy tricks,
no hangers on,
no football politics;
just an ordinary fan.
So please don't exploit me!
 
 
 

I've Got One In (A tribute to Albert a Fulham fan)
by Simon Icke UK

 

‘Mine's a light and bitter’, Albert would say.
‘I’ve got one in,’ before the fray.
I’m here in my corner, reading my paper,
Checking that life’s still in order.
Ready to talk to my many friends,
Never thought it would come to an end.
‘I’m from Battersea Dogs Home’ Albert would say.
My manor was Fulham, every day.
On my "bi-cycle", the black and whites way.
Came to Aston Clinton, with only a few quid.
Married my wife Pauline, I am so glad I did.
As ‘Peter the Painter’ I plied my trade,
And soon became known, far and wide.
So many memories I had to share,
So many stories plucked from the air.
Never boring with Albert our mate,
Always had the time to talk, till late.
I didn’t think I would be leaving quite so soon,
Thought I had time for another tune.
But that’s life, never goes as you plan.
So I hope when I get to heaven,
‘I’ve got one in’!
Thank you for being my friend
Thank you for being with me to the end.

 
 

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