The laughing man

The laughing man stood
With arms stretched out wide.
Wondering why
The sky is the sky.

A little bird saw him
And flew to his side.
He asked the bird,
'Can I have a ride?'

He sat on his shoulders
And up to the clouds
The little bird soared.
Below there a crowd.

'What is he doing?'
A Woman, she cried,
'All that they’ve taught me
They lied, oh they lied.'  

Ade Cull.
27.10.09.

.. ..

Intensive Care.
 
Ting Ting Ting, Nurses studied screens,
as tubes sucked from here and there,
I stare at her face for hours.
Glurck glurck glurck, she is lost in dreams,
while fluids are pumped about.
You cannot bring in flowers.
..Ping.. ping ping went the respirator.
The Black Dog starts his walk through the forest.
Time moved on, as if marching through mud,
I seize a small phrase,
and am lost in it for days.
Sleep was my only release,
peace from the constant drain of
selfishly falling to my knees and crying to my creator,
I finally realised what love is as Angels spiralled around her head.
 
Ade Cull.
27.05.09.

The fans grown
 
The fans grown alone alone.
We fumble through the corporate day
fumbling.
Some say as others do to do,
but there are not any Farmers here.
Log on, off cough, dough, count the seconds
till the next time the fire-fighter needs his ego replenished.
As we, full of technical wizardry and compulsive disorders fly to his whim.
No one can create here; we are dear to the cause as we flock to our Orwellian screens,
and teams of teams building a future of bonds and share option screams,
in a canteen that culinary delights would need more than the imagination would allow,
far from the sickle and the plough, but in a strange way related somehow.

Ade Cull.
19.05.09.

Fire and Water Signs....

Young Boy sleeps in a Village,
Waiting for the morning to play his games,
While late in the evening come flying over those fighter planes. 
Spitting out their missiles like burning spirits from the fires of hell.
While his tired Mother goes to get water from the Well.....

But the water won't stop the burning
'cus they don't believe in the God of might.
That's why they come over here to turn their wrongs into a right.
Oh sweet baby Jesus why do we so carry on,
Taking all our Devils around the World in the name of right and wrong.....

Now the young Boy's heart is bleeding
'cause they found his Mother down by the Well
burnt to a cinder, trying to dowse the flaming fires of Hell.
'young Boy sleeps in a Village,
Waiting for the morning to play his games,
While late in the evening he hears the rumbling of the Trains.


Ade Cull

The Theatre of Lost Souls ....

In the theatre of lost souls
The drum beats a lonely tune,
Know body knows,
Know body knows.
The masks are withered and blue
Too true to the other side
What pieces of paper do they write
Looking hard for their next bite.
 
In the theatre of lost souls
The places are empty
The parts unfulfilled.
Looking ill at the time
When they laughed at the immortal moon,
But now too soon
Has the wastes of time paid their price.
 
In the theatre of lost souls
They paint their wood,
And canvas curtains' are renewed,
But the glue never sets.
Never hardens to their perfect parts,
Their darts of eyes to the others,
To those new and bright coins in the fountain.
 
 
In the theatre of lost souls
The goal, oh the goal,
Is far beyond my quiet soul.
The goal is for Death to take it's final bow
For him to play that part so well.
While they wither and rile
And moan and cry,
The curtain falls as they all die.


Ade Cull....