Chapter 8

We met this guy in the early days; his name is @Talk2PeaceX   If you are highly intelligent you will probably have deduced from his name that he’s a peace loving person. He’s also in a very noisy band which is ironic but, that’s another story!

He writes poetry and it’s ok, nowhere near as brilliant as Gongle’s poetry but then……what is!? Anyway he has been made Poet Laureate to the Mayor of Walsall (sniggers) What sort of a title is THAT? I was Poet Laureate to the Queen of Grimney and I reckon Grimney’s twice the size of Walsall but you don’t hear me bragging do you!

This is the ‘blurb’ from his Twitter page: (sniggers again)

The Earth can provide absolutely everything that we need to not just survive, but flourish. We don’t need money. We simply need to cooperate, work and share.

Don’t need money?? What planet is this boy from?? You try filling a trolley full of food in Tesco tomorrow and when you get to the till; just wave your hand dismissively at the checkout person and quote Peace’s blurb. Please let me know what the reaction is! Should be interesting 🙂

Speaking of Tesco remember me telling you he is in a noisy band? They are called The Illuminations and this is one of their tracks:

Told you they were noisy didn’t I?

I think you’re getting the idea! Peace is the sort of person who goes on and on and on about…….well, peace basically. In fact he talks about it SO much that you end up just wanting to throw bricks at him! I mean it’s lovely to be a peaceful person and all that cr….erm stuff but I think we all need a good riot now and then to break the boredom!

I’m only jesting of course.

This is one of Peace’s poems:

How Fragile Is Life

How fragile is life
That shines so bright
Yet flutters like a butterfly’s wings in flight
So pleasant to the sight
Yet still so deft
so light.


How fragile is life
That echoes aloud
Yet drifts beyond one’s touch
like mists and clouds.

How fragile is life
More so than snow
Immeasurable weight so slight
Each flake, a thousand crystals bond as one
but gone before you know.

How fragile is life
A whisper only souls can hear
Its warmth – a candle’s glow draws near
Then fades amidst the morning-light
Before it disappears.


Let’s treat this fragile life with more revere
Neglect it not while it is here
In goodness let our hearts be steered
Away from ignorance and fears
For smiles and tears
can mesh like glacial shards
newborn of shattered chandeliers.

(Sorry about the bold font at the beginning, it won’t go away no matter what I do!)

Like it? Why are poets always so miserable? I mean, honestly, have YOU ever met a happy poet? Answers on a postcard please……..

<The imp thinks hard for several minutes>

I know a really BIG secret about PeaceJ …………….

Erm, no I better not! Don’t want to make Peace angry do we? He might start chucking flowers at me or something

Would you like to see another one of his poems?……..Really? <Sigh> Oh go on then…..


The Maze

There are no easy paths today it seems
No simple way to realise our dreams
It’s hoola hoops
Or spinning plates
Or tightrope walks
Or twists of fate
Which permeate and punctuate life’s themes.

I’ll be no Saint no matter how I try
There’ll be no pound nor penny for the guy.
No Spiderman
No Tonka Toy
No Duracell
No Rover’s Roy
My closet skeleton filled till I die.

There are no simple answers take my word,
No master plan to make life less absurd.
It’s bullet holes
banana skins,
Reporting stolen wheelie bins,
The arctic melt,
The fiscal freeze
There’s fighting wars
more than disease
Mad millions spent on football stars
And even more on reaching Mars
When all around confusion rules
From Parliament to Primary Schools
The Rubic Cube that we call life
Like beef under the butcher’s knife
Like Jack and Jill without a hill
I’ll stop
But I could go on still
I’ll make this point
Oh yes I will.
There are no simple answers and
I’ve had my fill.

We’re born
We die
We laugh
We cry
We work the day
We sleep the night
We bleed the same
We need the same
We share one Earth
In depth and girth
In all its heights
For all it’s worth.
We cultivate
And seperate
Then delegate
And finally we relegate
In an attempt to elevate
Enslaved by that which we create.
Then procreate to populate
the mass that we inebriate.
The map is lost
No buried treasure can be found
In any measure.
Can’t be found in sexual pleasure
Not in richness nor in leisure.
Pieces missing from the jigsaw.
What we get we always want more.
Seeking that perpetual open door.

There are no easy paths
Of that I’m sure.

Another happy one <chuckles to himself >

I wonder what Peace would say if I told you the secret I know about him……..

Oh, go on then………..but, don’t tell him I told you will you?…………..Peace has a really famous cousin (or was it his brother) It’s ages since he told me! This famous cousin/brother, whatever is on the watchy box lots and he is also a poet! I better not tell you his name or I’ll end up getting sued or something!


Oh erm, hello Steve, Bob……….


I thought I’d give you a hand Steve, Bob…..been writing chapter 8 about your friend, Peace <nervous grin>

We all like Peace, Gongle, I hope you haven’t been insulting him……..

Who? ME? As if……………<scuttles off to hide>

Well Peace I will have to trust Gongleshanks on this occasion as I haven’t time to read what he’s written. I hope he mentioned what a fabulous poet and musician you are, and how we Grimniens are very grateful to you for all the support you give us. 🙂

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