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Smuggler Thy Name is Rat

A Rat from Beer, they say.

A bored fisherman who chose another way.

This humble lad had set about privateering…

till fate cast him t’ward adventurous stealing.

 

Through gritted teeth and a clever lie,

young Jack would succeed or die.

Whether it be hiding in your chimney,

or fighting ten soldiers, by Jiminy!

 

He bagged riches great and small,

rising to fame, he outfoxed them all!

Courageous, resolute, heroic…

It’s the truth! I swear it!

 

Jack Rattenbury was his name,

living the life was his game.

Jack the Rat was his legacy.

An adventurous, everlasting supremacy.

 

By D.C. Wood (20.07.2013)

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The Asperger’s Argument

Electric signals in the brain,

Neurons completing a new jigsaw.

A circuit that’s wired differently.

Not defectively, but differently.

A new recipe that’s cooked

With the same ingredients.

A new creation that’s built

With the same tools.

A new story that’s written

With the same words.

A new song that’s performed

With the same instruments.

 

And yet, each runner encounters the same hurdles.

Each prey has to survive all the predators.

And each student has to learn.

 

One’s struggles are similar, yet different,

ultimately their own.

Decorated with the acoustics of one’s voices,

bombarding internally in conjunction with

the external judgements that pollute us.

 

“He can’t drive a car!”

“She’ll never get married!”

“They’ll never find a job!”

“He can’t get a boyfriend!”

“She’ll never have kids!”

“Why isn’t he living on his own?”

“Does she still live with her parents?”

“They’ll never do anything worthwhile!”

“Weirdo! Weirdo! Weirdo!”

 

Continuing and continuing,

despite the external evidence to the contrary.

Writers, activists, artists, musicians, singers, poets,

entertainers, athletes, scientists, doctors, workers,

teachers, family-men & family-women…all of them.

 

All of them. Rising. Proving the naysayers wrong.

 

Achieving, growing, gaining, losing, rebuilding…

Like all the architects of this world.

Writing their own unique life-stories

from that first-capital letter

to the final full-stop,

 

A total love for life and everything in it.

A determination to be brave, loyal, brilliant & kind.

A right to be afraid, doubtful and human.

The never-ending struggle…to do the best you can.

 

It is the Asperger’s Argument.

The right to live.

The right to be.

 

By D.C. Wood (08.04.2018)

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Sophie

Sophie

 

“Hello, there. I’m Sophie.”

“Nice to meet you, Sophie.”

 

“Are you new here?”

“It’s the first time in a long time.”

“Ah! Starting over again. I know the feeling.”

 

“Okay, you’re sure what to do?”

“I think so, Sophie.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you. Let’s just have fun!”

“Smooth running and dry rails, yeah?”

 

“You weren’t kidding, Soph!

The scenery’s better than I remember!”

“Looking through a fresh eye helps,

as well as running on fresh tracks.”

“Let’s go faster! Are you ready?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!”

 

“Mind that pheasant! Feather the brake!”

“Sorry, Sophie!”

“Oh, don’t be! This your first time driving?”

“Second. First was steam.”

“You’re doing well! Glad you’re enjoying the ride.

Most people hate me because of what I am.”

“All are equal in my book, Soph.”

 

“So…how are you feeling?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, at the station, your dad told me

that you’d been sick…”

“Oh, don’t worry about THAT.

No point worrying over old fuses

Not when passengers need you.”

 

“Sound the horn! Boards up ahead!”

“Okay, Sophie! We’re making good time!”

“We’ve nothing but time! Steady does it!”

 

“Sophie…what’s life like as a diesel?”

“Well…it’s no different than a steam engine…

“Or even a human, really.”

“I don’t understand…”

 

“Well, you have good days and bad days.

You have people who love you and people

who hate you.

Sometimes you’re happy, sometimes you’re sad.

You see some amazing things,

travel and visit beautiful places,

you work hard and rest well.

You need fuel constantly.

You injure and tire, and you have people

who mend you and make you better.

And most important…you have people

who need you.

 

“Like I needed you today.”

 

“Wow…thank you, Sophie.

For a very splendid day out!”

 

“Not at all! Thank you!”

 

By D.C. Wood (12.05.2015)

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The Cars of the Great Orme

When the sun comes out to play,

on any given day…

So many things sparkle under its magic,

made all the more fantastic.

 

The sea becomes more alive,

heavenly clouds swell & thrive.

Grass decorates the cliffs of Llandudno,

and seagulls cry above & below.

 

And as you march on & explore,

Marvelling at God’s creations galore…

You hear the musical rhythm of engines,

and then you see Man’s beautiful inventions.

 

Triumph Heralds smile at you,

Morris Travellers cry out ‘hello’.

Classic Mercedes are on holiday,

Mini Coopers freely getaway.

 

A cavalcade of vehicles are marching,

These marvellous colours are flying.

But even though the glorious sight shall fade…

Your day will forever be truly made.

 

Goodbye, Great Cars.

You truly are daylight stars.

And as you roll on home…

Please do return to this Oh-So-Great Orme.

 

By D.C. Wood (22.06.2016)

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The Fabricated Soldiers

They there were,

The immortal ones.

Woven in gold,

Coming towards us

From canvas sea.

 

Rough as tides,

Smooth as sandpaper,

The oncoming wave.

We stood frozen,

Entranced by confusion.

 

“Friend or foe?”

We shouted them.

Silent they were,

As they advanced,

Under textile stars.

 

Row by row,

They came forth,

Numbers never ending,

Imagination carrying them

From infinity itself.

 

We greeted them,

They greeted us.

The moment captured,

By finest patchwork.

Then they spoke.

 

“Do not fear,”

Their voices united,

Threaded together beautifully.

“Be awe-inspired, believers.

Marvel this achievement.”

 

“Behold our gift.”

 

By D.C. Wood (29.06.09)

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The Cathedral Floor

Here lies Amelia,

Born…in?

Loving…what?

Died…when?

 

Words shouldn’t fade.

They’re not supposed to.

Immortal etchings in stone.

Legacy engraved, timelessly safe.

 

So why is Amelia’s memory damaged?

Her marker is tarnished!

Most inscriptions erased by common foot,

Wear and tear spiriting Amelia away,

To the oblivion of forgetfulness.

 

How come everywhere else is so pristine?

Centuries magnificent, defiant of time,

this breathtaking architecture.

It’s a safe haven

decorated with stained glass,

Stamped with God’s seal of approval.

 

Honouring iconic, holy,

clean, unspoiled, unforgettable

men and women on the wall,

nice and safe and preserved.

 

While Amelia and others more,

Are just used to wipe visitors’ feet.

 

By D.C. Wood (07.09.2012)

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