I started writing poems  & verse  mainly  because of Danielle  Jones, my 'Internet Daughter'.

She  encouraged me.  Thanks Danielle

Poems & Serious and Fun stuff


Sleep  9/24/01

I wish I'd get a bit more sleep,
I've tried relaxing and counting sheep,
Dani prefers to count her bear cows
Laughter in me, that does arouse!
The taking of tablets and pills,
I think to me would add to my ills.
Listening to music so calming,
Helps me without any harming.
The drinking of chamomile teas,
In the night makes me go for wees.
Falling asleep I do quickly,
Cause I am so tired physic'ly
But too early in the morning
From dreamland I wake, no warning.
My mind goes round & round,
Usually and often nowhere bound.
All it does is lots of thinking,
With no thoughts of sinking
back to sleep. So Up I get
and here am, I on the net,
writing an other silly rhyme
just to fill up the time.

How come a load of water can think? 

What are we but water
Mixed together like mortar
With added carbon 'n calcium
Iron, phosphorous and cadmium.
A few more elements make this soup
Which together form quite a group
and make up a complex being
which is a sight worth seeing.

Surely! Were all of these elements
put together in experiments?
Water mixed with all these things
Could it read, hear and sings?
Can it run, talk, and think,
There must surely be a link
Happiness, love and despair are feelings
For chemicals cannot have any dealings.

So what are we then?
I ask using this pen.

©hris 27. 09.01


Eventually It Dawned Up on Him.


A little boy sat up all of the night

After his  mummy had put out  the light.


“Where did that sun go?”  Thought he.

It’s the strangest thing he ever did see


As it got darker and darker, the moon and stars

shone brightly, and Milky Way but not Mars Bars


He sat up pondering on great and  little bears

Belted Orion, Pleiades, and stars  in pairs


But still,  his  thoughts returned to the  mystery

Of what had happened to the sun, now history.


Behind the Western hills  the sky went  red

Which for a little boy meant time  for bed!


But still sleep would not  come, his thoughts

Were  thinking of rows and rows of noughts.


Because his dad had said the sun

was far way away, too far  to run.


So with thoughts of planets, stars and satellites

Galaxies, black holes, comets and Meteorites,


His mind kept him awake, staring in the sky

He could not stop himself from thinking, why o why


Where did that beautiful big sun go

After it disappeared, so red and low?


Then in the East the sky became less dim

And eventually  it dawned  upon him.


© Chris Phillips Dec 2004


Can I Just Kill Myself?


Can I just kill myself?

Me, I am on the shelf.

It would be so much easier,

But would I be happier?


Would I feel happy if my parents were full of grief

And my friends, who would be in total disbelief,

If I were no longer here.


No more golden sunsets;

Yes there would be regrets;

No more coloured rainbows,

No more tree lined shadows,


Would I feel happy never seeing such beauty again?

Would the end of my life really be such a gain,

If I were no longer here?


No more beautiful butterflies,

Things about which I rhapsodise,

No more fields of lowing cows,

Nor pussycats purring meows.


The things that I love, so dearly

I would see no more , so clearly

If I were no longer here.


No more fun & laughter

for me forever hereafter

No more giggles & smiles

Nor funny internet files.


The things I feel happiest doing

I would no longer be viewing

If I were no longer here.


No more beautiful sunshine

Nor wet sandy shoreline

Not a single baby animal,

Making me joyfully lachrymal.


All these joys in this wonderful world

Would no longer be unfurled

If I were no longer here


No more love for me would I feel

Life goes around like a wheel

No more loving kisses & a hug.

going to bed all secure and snug.


All these things in my life would no longer

Be there for me out yonder.

Life I WILL live! How COULD I miss all this?


© Chris Phillips 2002



Life goes on, even in the cold new year

All  we  wish  for is a  world with no fear.

No one  can do much to put all things right

But every small bit is a such a delight.

Chris & Dilys wish 05 will be better

And are saying so in this picture letter.

The underground mole knows not the snow

His mountains are rather small and  low

He  pushes  and  heaves and  the soil rises

The  snowy surface is full of surprises

He  did his bit to keep life working

Even though the  ground was freezing

There is  much to do and do it we must

And like the mole  break the  crust.

© Chris Phillips 30 Dec 2004





Chris Phillips



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