I Bless the Winds of Heaven.
November 24, 2009 at 7:50 pm (Poem)
When we are not together the winds of Heaven blow between us, and that they ought.
For you are as you belonging to yourself, and being only you with the winds of Heaven blowing between us.
When we are not together the winds of Heaven blow between us, and that they ought.
For I am but myself belonging to myself, and being only me with the Winds of Heaven blowing between us.
When we are together we are as one with the winds of Heaven blowing all around our togetherness.
For we are as one being, with passion, grace and fire.
With the winds of Heaven healing, feeding and nurturing our desire.
I bless the winds of Heaven.
I Lay There Still.
October 23, 2009 at 8:12 pm (Poem)
Upon a beach so far beyond
Where lost the sea though tide high strong
I lay upon my funeral pyre
As yet unlit to linger on
All agonies of grieving loss
Are foundlings ‘midst this dark dream cast
Where pleading screaming whispers quake
As pale as ghosts the breath escapes
To ceasing of the hearts last drum
Whose skin must surely break
With yearning eyes to crisp scythe moon
Wane crescent sharp though full her tune
As hidden most by scant worn cloud
A drawn across her face to shroud
Yet witness turmoil wraith beneath
Glimpse harsh as brittle sound
A glint of hope though first flame flickers
Joined by others nimble fingers
Come host of flames as breeze it quickens
Burn fiercely brightly
Venus risen
I lay there still
Awaiting.
Playground of the Earth.
September 28, 2009 at 7:20 pm (Poem)
This folly, this farce, this delight in strife towards contentment that’s set within some longed for future yet not within the now. This task, this game, this false eluding affinity to things, places or people we cling to on the way. Our asspirations cluttered by hype, ego and trend. Fasioned by a fasion, a style to end all ends. That leads us all a merry stray whilst others pay the cost. Of our encouraged rapturedness, ‘at least it’s not our loss!’ With shrugging shoulders what’s it worth the price tag of false wealth? Is it marked down? Reduced to clear? A bargin on the shelf? What next exploit, delude, mislead ‘midst playground of the earth? As the Hungry Ghosts are screaming yet infinity their girth. To choose to be a wall flower pray content as gentle mirth. To endeavour all compassion, to become the only worth. Until falling petals and the seed of love amidst rebirth, may find us as enlightenment upon the playground earth.
A Snowdrop.
September 14, 2009 at 10:24 am (Uncategorized)
Hope is such a tender fragile flower
When all seems lost we nurture every hour
Until the frost of winter covers all
And the petals wither fade to fall
Yet faiths the rising of the sun
Upon the blossom yet to come
Trust is such a blooded thorn held clasp
Yet to the rose we’re drawn to clasp
When left alone the beauty lasts
Upon the moments as they pass
As faiths the rising of the sun
Upon the blossom yet to come
Truth is change as Bluebells gently ring
Bringing memories of how its always been
I hear them softly on the wind
As Spring eternal calls again
And loves a Snowdrop in the dawn
That grows for you and I as one
And faiths the rising of the sun
Upon the blossom yet to come.
From the Bus.
September 14, 2009 at 10:07 am (Poem)
From the bus I saw…
A lone pine tree
The gentle rise and fall of the prehistoric land
Mole hills in a modern cemetry
And a vacant plot
All of which I shall visit.
Muse.
June 2, 2009 at 10:34 am (Poem)
I can but follow on the hint of the scent of your blossom the promise of encaptured rapture within your beauty to last. For how could any not give of all that is of all their heart, loyal in spirit yet remain un-claiming and alas un-claimed beneath the twilight stars. I can but moments chance, and dream to meet your glance until your spirit may come to ask and heal me with the grace of passion entwinded as a living dance. My Muse, I can but love thee so.
Epona.
June 2, 2009 at 10:32 am (Poem)
Epona.
As a wounded Otter
Yet cradled in the arms of Epona I can but dream to die
To all but drown within her tender tears
And nurtured gently against her breasts
I pass to ever flow upon the ever tide
Knowing she is always by my side
With the light of the Moon within her eyes.
A Scentless Flower.
April 7, 2009 at 6:31 pm (Poem)
Who Walks on the Graves.
Who walks on the graves of the lives I once led?
Who brought to them flowers, who glad I was dead?
And what of tomorrow, to what to return?
This earth as I left it, re suffer this dirth,
Of living a life a soul bound by flesh
Stillborn and silent or first to last breath,
Afflicted the spirit through life unto death.
Who walks on the graves on the lives I once led?
Myself as I shiver and pass overhead.
Matter.
Here’s my matter here’s my shell
Here I dream in here I dwell
Here I shelter Heavens Hell
But why I dream? I may as well
Through lifes eternal guessing game
Dream it real both night and day
Making matter dancing clay
Until as dust just blown away.
A Billion Ghosts.
May all the coins be chocolate coins
All the notes be lovers letters
Wealth forever coined fools gold
And nobody indebted
A billion ghosts who’ve played this shame
Monopoly of life we’ve made
Do scream at me for this to say
It’s time to put the game away.
Debora pt1
The telling silence of ignored
Follows knock upon her door
She won’t come out to sing today
I go to play alone.
On my return to what was wrong
The Coke was chopped the Smack is gone
The door is answered animated
Both are waste annihilated
Share a spliff made for my bother
Deck of Thoth thumbed take these brother
We don’t need no Tarot cards
To see there’s no tomorrow.
Debora pt2
In Thames near Streets I once foretold
Somehow all this I felt before
And days go by I get a call
Brother gone when whoring stalled
I load her world into my Mini
Her in front though she don’t know me
Guiding us to her next fix
I leave her world by Hampton Bridge
Then days again another call
Asylum caught her latest fall.
Debora pt3
I face a fear and visit Debora
Marc or Spacey Tracy headster
Romance lust is all reviled
A Condom on the playing field
Talk of marriage talk of love
Talk of ever flying Doves
Yet pulling out from darkened halt
I feel foretelling final jolt
That leaves me squirming shocked and shaken
Bleached like tainted snow.
Debora pt4
A week or two and then a visit
Shattered hearts with splintered missives
Final fling thrown stark and harsh
We’re tangent shard of broken glass
Yet share a minty-circled kiss
That’s left within my mouth.
Debora pt5
Weeks go by I miss a call
A suicide her final fall
I even miss the funeral
The news sends me to grief’s free fall
And life’s a blur before my eyes
Preying for to land and die
Yet tablets just leave me sick
And pissing on the floor.
Debora pt6
Come the flash backs here and there
The Monday band and Tiger beer
Barns humpback bridge her scream of fear
Her ghost at Dylan gig
Her Corkscrew tight torment soul
Her ex who beat her on parole
Miscarriages of justice hall
And Bloody sheets in Richmond
Our U turn crash with Taxicab
Her longing eyes her smile her stab
The dress I bought she thought was fab
The belle of T.Rex ball
Debora pt7
Years go by and still free falling
Silent phone that’s screaming calling
Ever bells for ever tolling
I still Fucking answer
The Last Straw.
Doomed jaded cursed and old
Future only loss does hold
Expected carry last straws load
When dead end reached upon the road
All onward sight as memory flashback
Lightning stark
No rose tint
Sky cracked
Pearls of wisdom broken stones
Five storms past where nowhere’s home
Foetal fallen struck down clutching curling to the knees
Rising somehow staggering to cliff edge balance tease
Catch twenty two a ticking
Broken roads walked in between
Fall tears amidst the government buildings rusting the machine
Exist on edge existing
A nightmare from a dream
The moment frozen paralysed releasing silent screams
And fifty seven proof percent as breakfast for the day
Relentless comes the sun rise
Death cruelly stays away.
Church Hill.
Neither up nor down Church Hill I stray
‘Tween playground and the graves
Upon this road I pass again
A moment on the way
Where stripped of faith and hope lost raw
‘Neath weather harsh blown rain
Fall skinned alive with insides out
Flesh slithers down the drain
Mix crimson red black deep vein blood
Away wash my remains
Upon Church Hill I stand awhile
‘Tween playground and the graves.
Eleven Angels.
As I wandered on the broken road
I found a lady on the way
She called to me upon a hill side
The sweetest sound I ever heard
And she gave me eleven angels
A silver ring and then she flew
And turquoise where her loving eyes
They showed the pain but kindness only came
We shared the deepest darkest water
And heart to heart extinguished every flame
And she gave me eleven angels
A silver ring and then she flew
As I still walk upon the hill side
I listen for her soft voice on the wind
And I miss her hand by my side
But know the heavens gave her wings
As she gave me eleven angels
A silver ring and then she flew.
Blossom of the Heart.
I clasp my torn and blooded hand
To barbed and thorny stem
Watch blood run thickly down my arm
Returned here once again
To hold the purest white of blossom
Raise the bloom of trust
Yet fear my blood shall taint it red
And this shall come to pass
The petals curl fall wither dead
My doubt loosen my grasp
Leave thorns within here once again
Embedded memories harsh
And leave me clutching rotted stem
And this shall be my last
Remaining shred of flesh torn hope
And blossom of the heart.
The Dharma Wheel.
The Dharma wheel turns
The karma unfurls
Bringing only the things we have hurled
Planted or sown
Said done or shown
Ultimate thought unto action has grown
Habit encircled all things to re learn
Re live to remember sorrows concern
Yet you are the centre
The jewel in the now
As one with the everything
Shine through your clouds
Never a they or an I only us
Everything suffers this matter bound dust
Truth is but change of better and worse
Ultimate love and compassion our worth
Endure and endeavour
Incite gentle mirth
Tenderness turning the whole of the earth
The moon and the planets
Even the sun
The billions of stars vastly far flung
Infinite void
Empty yet full
We are but thought in the midst of our all
Awakening blossom
Enlightened bright star
Shine with a smile that comes from the heart.
Still Within.
I am still within
The Dharma wheel
Held by hope desire
Of you to know
Lessons for to learn
Before to let go
Sorrow only known
Sorrow only known
I am still without
Love to tender flow
To hold through the night
Together yet alone
To wax and to grow
To shine the full moon glow
Together for to know
The waning darken woe
I am still within
The Dharma wheel
Sorrow only known
The Dharma wheel
Enlighten me
The Dharma wheel
Enlightening
As I a scentless flower.
Who Walks on the Graves.
May 8, 2008 at 11:16 am (Poem)
Who walks on the graves of the lives I once led?
Who brought to them flowers, who glad I was dead?
And what of tomorrow, to what to return?
This earth as I left it, re suffer this dirth,
Of living a life a soul bound by flesh
Stillborn and silent or first to last breath,
Afflicted the spirit through life unto death.
Who walks on the graves on the lives I once led?
Myself as I shiver and pass over head.
A Hedgewytch Tree
April 30, 2008 at 6:37 pm (Poem)
A tightly twisted knot of darkness
Hides the reason deep by earth
Roots that feed from tearful seasons
Overflowing Well of dirth
Moonrise draws the sap of sorrow
Moon ebb wanes yet sorrow grows
Habitually the tree remains
A Hedgewytch of the old hedgerow
Bitter sweet to fruit from blossom
Better left to rot unknown
On branches thrown in poise of torment
Shadows cast its tale of woe.
A Sigil Awhile.
April 23, 2008 at 7:26 am (Poem)
With sun upon one hand
Moon upon other
I stand as a sigil awhile
At once as a tree grows
From deep root the sap flows
Rising and falling as tide
Through sun moon and seasons
To grow for a reason
Other than ego or pride
To keep ever with you
The view from your high hill
And living the ley as I stride
Stood but a moment seemed
Ever remembered dream
With sun and the moon for my eyes.
Faery Ring Fair.
April 16, 2008 at 12:29 pm (Uncategorized)
With Thyme in her pocket
A chaplet of Violet
A sprig of the Goat Weed
Worn in her hair
A pinch of the Bay
To open the way
A Bluebell ring heralding
Faery ring fair
To dance in her Catkin gown
Spider spun lace
Mossy her shoes
A smile on her face
From dawn until dusk
And dusk until dawn
At mid night and mid day
A kiss for us all.
Nothings There.
April 10, 2008 at 11:24 am (Uncategorized)
Flits within the corner eye
And disappears not to be spied
You search in vain your search it hides
It’s grin you feel to your surprise
It’s hard to catch or rationalize
The glimpse of nothings there
A boggart be its name for sure
It came in through your open door
And likes your cupboard under stair
And there it’s homely cluttered lair
And when you’re all and fast asleep
Out it slither tiptoe creeps
To muddle up your gentle dreams
And loiters till you wake
You rise at morning rubbing eyes
There’s something here or there you cry
A laughing sure you heard no lie
A feeling you can’t shake
All day it hovers just behind
The back of somewhere in your mind
You’re sure you must be somehow blind
To what or isn’t there
This elemental darkened sprite
Doesn’t like the sun bright light
And feeling better in the garden
Courage grows and senses harden
Then a twinkling glint idea
I’ll tidy out my under stairs
And later in the darkling eve
You find the boggarts taken leave.
The Statue of the Naked Guy.
April 9, 2008 at 2:04 pm (Uncategorized)
He stood most naked in the high street
Upon a pedestal they placed him
Over looking passers by
The statue of the naked guy
Some one sprayed him with rude words
Others dressed him in girls clothes
And one night when all alone
Someone took part of him home
He must have seen wars come and go
Naked stood against the foe
But wear he meddle no not one
For how would someone pin one on
They fixed him up from time to time
The statue of the naked guy
Some passers by would ‘vert their eyes
Not me I’d wink I’m sure he tried
And then they took him clean away
A few complaints I’m told they say
I couldn’t bare it took his place
At once arrested in disgrace
I asked the policeman why but why
I am the ghost of the naked guy
He didn’t seem to find this funny
I went to court it cost me money
And now a sign there in his place
A simple notice Vacant Space
For sale this empty pedestal
Please apply to prudes at council.
