It can’t be love, can it? (poem 11)

It can’t be love, can it?

It was any other day, just keeping myself to myself.
There from afar she caught my eye in that packed room.
What? Wait? Why?

There must have been a dozen or two women there.
There had to be a reason for the captivation I felt.
What? Wait? Why?

I didn’t even know her, I had never seen her before in my life.
What purpose could there be for this needless enchanting?
What? Wait? Why?

From that moment on there she was.
Around every corner, through every doorway.
That made it oh so much worse.
What? Wait? Why?

I was the perfect gentleman that my heart told me to be.
I held open doors as she passed through.
I always let her pass through them first.
She rewarded me with that bewitching smile, that melted my heart.
What? Wait? Why?

But that didn’t matter, a gentleman she wanted not.
I started to notice her snicker as she passed me.
I started to notice her look the other way as she passed me, pretending she hadn’t seen me.
But that still was not enough to make me quit.
What? Wait? Why?

I keep thinking of her anyway, even though I know she does not like me.
It breaks my heart more each day.
What? Wait? Why?

This is the 21st century a woman never shall want a gentleman again.
Muscles the size of towers and a face of a super model is what’s needed.

Brains and manners need not apply.
What? Wait? Why?

Or perhaps today ‘Gentleman’ is just a nice way of saying ‘Ugly Creep’!

Copyright © 2010, William Cody Winter.

The Battle of The Few (poem 10)

The Battle of The Few
(A poem for the 70th anniversary of The Battle of Britain)

Those Few flew over London’s sky by day and by night.
The great Few that always know the Empire would never lose.
They always knew they would return to England’s soil, be it above or below.
They who battled like legendary heroes not by land or sea but in the air like never before.
They who’s bravery and unselflessness stopped the Nazi war marchine in it’s tracks.
They who stopped the world being invaded and becoming slaves (or at least for a few more years).

They are the men who won the Battle of Britain.
They are the kind Few who should never ever be forgotten.

Copyright © 2010, William Cody Winter.

There was once a great man called… Buffalo Bill (Poem 9)

‒ There was once a great man called… Buffalo Bill ‒


There was once a great American soldier
There was once a great Buffalo Hunter
There was once a great Sure-Shot
There was once a great Pony Express Rider
There was once a great Stagecoach Driver
There was once a great showman

How many great men is that?
Six?

It was but ONE!

A man of honor with a Medal of Honor
A man who saved his father’s life at the age of seven
A man of equality man, woman, black or white it made no matter to him.
A man who PUSHED for the rights of Indians and Women
A man who founded the great Wyoming city of Cody
A man who almost single handly rewrote the world picture of the wild west
A man who’s news of his death received tributes from King George V of the United Kingdom, Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany, and President Woodrow Wilson.
A man who quickly became the first American superstar

A man loved by millions the world over, never to be forgotten even to this day.
His name was William Frederick Cody, better known across the world as Buffalo Bill Cody.



William F. Cody
26th February, 1846 – 10th January, 1917


Copyright © 2010, William Cody Winter.

I wake up to sleep again (Poem 8)

- I wake up to sleep again -

I sleep til one pm
I lay there eyes closed for twenty minutes
What will I see if I open them?
Nothing
Nothing but the dull grey vortex that is my life

It’s the same old thing day after day.
So I turn back over and go to sleep.
That sweet sleep, the oblivion of living death

Life has no meaning, so I visit that oblivion of living death,
I sleep my life away, for I have no life to waste

Sleep Sleep Sleep
I sleep till one pm
I lay there eyes closed for twenty minutes
What will I see if I open them?
Nothing
Nothing but the dull grey vortex that is my life

Sleep Sleep Sleep
Why be awake in that boredom, and depressing reality of failure.
Why not visit the sweet oblivion of living death
So I do.

I Sleep Sleep Sleep.

Copyright © 2010, William Cody Winter.

Our Mutual Friend, England! (poem 7)

Our Mutual Friend, England!

We have a mutual old friend and She’s dying!
We have a very old friend and She’s slowly slipping away!
We have a dear old friend who was always here through thick and thin and She’s passing away!

Why is she dying you ask? Old Age?

She’s dying through neglect and abuse!
She’s decaying!
She’s got a rotten black heart from years of uncaring ill-treatment!

Who is she? you ask
Don’t you know yet?

Take a few paces outside, can you feel the ground under you?
Yes good!
Now breathe in deeply, feel the air in your lungs?
Yes?
Do you have a personality?
I thought so!

Well that’s her!

She’s the ground beneath your feet!
She’s the air in your lungs!
She’s a part of your personality, she’s helped form who you are!

She’s England!
Just believe!

Copyright © 2010, William Cody Winter.