I love all of the shirts that I've recently bought from T S Co. The message is clear, concise and right in the face. Just where it should be. Poems: Shine bright moon And light my way I’ve travelled far Since yesterday. Through war-filled places Where men do fight Where children die Such frightful sight. I’ve crossed the seas Where creatures swim Whose only enemy Is sadly him. Him, the human Killing machine Who takes so much It feels obscene. And over lands Where people starve If we took less Their pain might halve. And into homes Where children hurt Where parents treat them Just like dirt. Dark street corners Where women sell As weep they try To escape their Hell. So shine bright moon And light my way Iniquities Leave much to say. And should I fail Along the strive Please light a path For others to drive. But there are those Whose gentle soul Has lit a beacon As was their role. For history’s filled With souls like theirs Whose aim in life Was equal shares. Yet sadly life Treats them so ill Their guiding path Silent, still. But guide the mean Where e’er we find To better ways That are more kind. Perhaps then we Would feel so skilled As lives as ours Would be fulfilled. So yes! Shine moon And light their way As they strive to chase Such pain away… ©Joe Wilson – A light to guide us…2016 I imagine there are very few women who go into this profession willingly. A much abused woman I know described it as a living hell. This is her story. ______________________________ She was a whore, a hooker, a prostitute Beaten down by cruel men and a mean system Yet still she had hoped that one day She could escape and live some sort of a life. She had always smiled and done her best Though, unsurprisingly, it had never been her choice of job. Inside, she was smiling now. She had met him, oh so handsome and strong. He had drawn her in to where she felt loved Something that had seemed sadly lacking in her life. That had only lasted a short time. Soon, she just felt like she was his property. The first time he hit her she had run away But he found her and just beat her some more. He never hit her on the face though And soon she understood why – at a party. She had expected it to be a party like any other But then she saw him exchanging money with some men And she knew… They raped her, again and again All five of them, over and over. They hadn’t held back in any way And she had felt so ashamed. Soon after that he turned her out onto the street ‘To earn her keep’, he said. Not caring what happened, anyone did anything She was no longer revolted, just hurt and disgraced. And now here she was. Forty-five years old, looking like sixty Lying in a hospital bed all wired up. She had a bad heart, yet she still smiled. She’d had a heart attack on the job The client – punter, had almost had one too He left sharpish she was told. She cared nothing anyway. Her ‘man’ had never given her anything She had no money, she had no life She had many, many bruises, inside and out. But she smiled anyway. She was worried about her heart But they said she would be alright If she stopped drinking and changed her life She smiled again, he had said she was no use He couldn’t look after someone who wasn’t earning. She never thought a bad heart would be her saviour. She knew now that she had a chance She smiled yet again… ©Joe Wilson – Something to smile about…2015 She has only limited resources And her children all need to be fed But gluttons will rob from the fountain And her riches are often dry bled. To put food on the family table Men and women work hard and make savings But the riches and wealth from their labours Finds its way into tax-free safe havens. You can’t justify why your cupboards are full While another sits at a bare table To share is a wonderful reward in itself We should all do it when we are able. If a poor man eats of food that you have provided And smiles at the pleasure it gives Is that not payment enough? ©Joe Wilson – Mother Earth…2015 back in the days of vaudeville which was way before my time men joked about a lady's ankle it was really too risqué but now they tell much dirtier jokes they joke about women's breasts well we are so much more modern now and of course now it seems OK. but is it I ask? is it alright? to crack these smutty jokes about the half of the population who've struggled to shed their yokes. a joke should be a good story it should make you laugh out loud is there a comic who doesn't insult? he'd surely stand out in a crowd. sadly I'm not too sure of this it's quite a pity in a way for I really would look forward to hearing that joke some day. ©JRW2014
