Death of a Metaphor -

Death of a metaphor,
a life long question
never seen this way before.
A feeling that has leeched
its very essence
from fear unbound.
Distracted, roped
and brought down.
The swan songs tethered lines
of metaphor found

Forever

Should I forget to dream today
Would I forget to live the next?
Should we forgive our memories
Throw broken birds unto their death?
Should I forget to search for you
Along the point of shadowed shore?
Would you forget that I exist
If tides did seek to rise no more?
Could I accept a child lost
To cut and bail the summer hay?
Might I forget to sleep instead
And ever dream the day.

Christmas Pudding -

‘You’ve gravy in your beard’
Our parting words.

I would have kissed you,
But…it seemed inappropriate
To lean across
The dejected bowl
Of amalgamating sprouts.

Breaking the malodorous silence,
Your hand reaches out -
Distracted by
The last greasy morsel
Falling from the carcass between us.

Amidst the crestfallen crackers,
My eye comes to rest
Upon the dishevelled chipolata
Half unwrapped
From its thick sebaceous skin.

And with a parting glance
I notice, only gravy on your chin.

Slow Progress - from a photograph of a 'sick Angolan child')

A lone fly
creeps pestulantly across
the dry encrusted landscape
of my lips.
In drifting lucidity,
the dehydrated spectre sips
choleric waters
from my eyes.
Hands lay limply,
like esoteric angels,
dismembered
from feverish wonderings.
Whilst intravenous
drips of hope
run dry.
A camera, like
a Cyclopean visage
Blinks.
Through shimmering haze.
I meet its eye,
And there, upon the lens
Am I.
Perfectly composed
In saturated tones
of blue -
I die.

Cat

Bathing sensuality
Purring dreams into warm air
An ornamental composition,
Her soft comforting lair.

Sweet caressing alchemy
Indulgent coalite silken paw
Hypnotic disposition
Of a silver steeled claw.

Calm entranced lucidity
Drifting meditative eye
Enlightened imposition
Of a jade bejewelled lie

Charmed desirous sorcery
Coiling deep beneath the flame
The fatal inquisition
Of cats enchanted game.

Parody of 'Ozymandias'

Memory calls a man from an antique time.
Our love it stood, like statues in the sand
On crumpled legs of stone...a pantomime
Half sunk, the shattered visage of his lies.
That anger yet survives the pendulum,
Tell that the sculptor well those passions made.
Now lifeless bodies walk amongst the dead
For what the heart tempted, the hand forbade.
On pedestals of his name appear
The words of every broken hearted fool
'Look at mine eyes, ye mighty, and despair
Nothing besides remains, round the decay
Of this colossal wreck, bounded in time,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

The Basilica's Font
(a found poem) -

Peacocks perch
upon, and drink
from a goblet.
Whilst mosaic duck's paddle
in the
Basilica's font

An Honorable Seduction -

Though we have world enough, and time,
Should sorcery escape your lips
My charismatic sonneteer
Would I be able to resist?

What dark magic lurks within
The inky oceans of your eyes
That strength and earthly countenance
Are taken by the ebbing tide

Your sultry spell is whispered deep
It's echoed breath upon my skin
That darkening clouds do easy part
And full moons rise within.

The sound of such enchantment sings
like gentle harps upon the shore
That lull my heart to loves entrance
And honour can resist no more.

Fire and Brimstone ;-p -

Volcano spilling,
gentle, silent, deadly.
Blackened red flows,
transforming the cold tempestuous sea,
to a bubbling, flaming carnival
of unseen fury.
Reshaping lands to be.

Rolling waves,
One - Two - Three.
Traveling rapidly
across an open sea.
A dragon breathes beneath still waters,
it's destination unseen.

Angels break
the rocks
that hold
the chains -
Setting miners
free.
The song vibrates,
like silent screams,
opening up wells beneath.

Stand fast my dear
and listen
to echoes of unsung words.

Dance within the flames.
Let them spin a whirlpool,
drawing all within.

Until the crashing laughter of waves
falls like summer rain,
turning the earth to chaos
once again.

The Fox -

Fox pants knowingly through the snow covered wood.
Late afternoon pale, falls into dark's deadly grip.
Daytime visitors have gone to seek their fires.
Fox,
pads on alone.
The course he takes is swift and straight.
He does not hesitate.
Despite the snow fox knows the path,
As if it were ingrained beneath his wintry red.
The ghostly footprints of his ancestors
Fox now treads.

This Life -

Its a lonely life

times come
and go

But nothing's left behind

we learn

we grow
into the passage of time

Flow

Water
touching upon the rim
between flow
and flood.

Its pre-cum swell
Churning depths
into ominous whirpools
upon the
Still
surface.

The friend in the Shadows -

Alive with fear
A love too sheer
to hide beneath

A show of affection

You stand back
Still
Like ice

But you know that she is there
It feels safer for her to be.

Walking Together-

When you wanted dry land'

I held the water back.

When you wanted carriage,

I carried you on my back.

When you wanted solace,

I let you weep alone.

When you wanted reflection,

I held you as my own.

When you wanted lies,

I had to walk away.

When you wanted to fly,

I was the wind that day.

The Leaving-

You are Hurting me.

Every moment

Every day

Watching you slowly dying.

Hiding all thats not yours

to hide.

Taking my soul away.

I am Dying.

Every second I lay awake

Watching life slowly ebbing away,

On a tide which will carry you beyond

All I could reach

or say.

I beseech you

Take me with you

God has no place

but in our hearts

'I Love you'

'I forgive you'

And Blessed be the voice of art.

A Moment-

Storm filled, pink setted sky

The perpetual rain is stopped.

Children play.

Like rock spirits freed from their mines

to enjoy the final hour of day...

A Moment (essay writing at uni)-

life is running away with me

hopes all based on yesterday

The future sits upon the desk in books

Challenging me to write it

Free (in a capitalist society)-

I gave myself freely,

to do so mattered to me.

Theres no abuse nor force,

no expectation of return.

The reward for me,

was simply to be, entirely.

I shouted 'I am free'

To share my joy mattered to me.

They turned and stared...

at a girl without worth;

Easy opportunity;

Disposable commodity.

A Love of Nature-

I sit here in my garden

It alone is beautiful.

Sweet honeysuckle fills the evening air

And even the arrangement of patio chairs

fills me with some simple joy.

It is me.

It speaks of my energy.

Some abstract reflection of myself

That I love to sit within.

Yes ! I love it dearly !

Yet I sit alone.

Is it only me that sees?

Has anyone ever really loved me?

I laugh out loud

for I say those words

and half a dozen at least would provide the kindly remedy

with genuine concern and sympathy

for one sounding so needy.

But has anyone truly looked upon me

and smiled to see a spirit serene

Or allowed themselves to muse

What strange contemplations might lurk within.

Just then I glimpse two mating doves

He flashes his tail...she admires from afar.

But I am no beauty, and am further past my prime

Ther'll be no poet who'll write of honey skin and slender thigh

And I wonder if there is a mate

who'll look upon me and truly love whats inside.

As a life that grows wild with the spring,

blooms so briefly to wilt again

and dies, haggard and worn as the dark cold winter.

Oh, the needy love of childhood is gone

For the need of a life loved and shared as one.

The love of a garden in spring

With the wisdom of age to appreciate

the moment and all it is yet to bring.

In every breath a new life beginning.

Say it -

And once again I need a friend

And you who not so long ago needed me

Are oh so busy.

And when I do it all myself

Will you be there to offer help

Complaining Im too up myself to take it?

What Have we Done -

'What have you done?'

'I have done nothing'

The accusation and defence resound.

'what have you done?'

'I have done nothing'

Misinterpretation and rebuke rebound.

'What have you done

when you were needed'

Her halo tumbles to the ground.

'What have you done

what hath proceeded'

Their guilt a generation mounts.

'What have you done?

If I could be you,

should I know the way?'

'What have I done?

If I could see you...

---Let us not

go over what we know.

What have we done?

What have we now to show?'

Child of Water -

I am a child of the water
Pretending to be a child of earth
I sleep in silence within flowers
Unaware yet of my birth
Taken on a breeze
To a duty Ive not known
In absence moved far
away from what is grown
Pillarless polarity
Scenes I cannot see
Love, an empty vastness
within me
An unobtainability
Of the Earth I will be
Until the earth returns me.

Walk -

Walk the path of patience

Pass cards along the way

Forever toward Horizons

Some way out to sea

Sit upon the shore

Waves lapping at your feet

Speak in silence

To those youve yet to meet

The sun rises with you

A day is never too long

(Be yourself; Belong; Be strong)

Comedy (for performance) -

Last week, just gone, I married Jack

Dressed in white and all that tat.

Buffet made, and guests all seated.

Then I 'eard the bugger'd cheated !

On honeymoon they found him dead,

'A tragic accident' I said.

Well anyone could have a fall....

from a balcony......strung up by the balls.

Still.....grieving widow, I held his wake.

and offered round the wedding cake,

Through confetti, his coffin I carried

back to the church where we were married.

To the vicar I said -

Im bringing 'im back - a girl looks so much better in black !!!

Mine is the Silence -

I open the door to my home
you may walk in and out as you please,
and I will not say to you
Please look, but this is MY home
Please feel, but this is MY home
Please sit a while, but this is MY home.
I will say, welcome, come in, and please treat my home as your own.
Though you may decorate, and I will not approve
it will not stick
Though you may build and section with walls
they will only crumble.
Though you may fill the corridors with your music
Mine is the silence within

To Act the Part -

What is lost

when you act the part

is trust.

When the hearts denied

words are just lines

revealed in action

time after time.

Connection -

'Connection, persecution,

revolutionised perception of a fearful population in deprivation of care.

Connection,

or ressurrection of past loves lost on a sea of tenderness.

in which we swim as paper boats around the moats of our fortress.

A mistress to satisfy the inner yearning.

The Word -

The word

stamped upon a page, the mechanicals slave

its ink feathering into a multitude of microscopic streams

the pixelated, block formed screen

to the systematic mutilation of dreams.

The Perpetual Falling Leaf -

The perpetual falling leaf
Suspended mid-air.
Caught upon invisible web -
assumption of mind,
logic searching for something there.
A spider appears.
Under that same llusion maybe...
how dissapointed he must be,
to rush for food,
to find only
that perpetual falling leaf
of dreams.

I Don't want to follow religion..I just want to ask about it . com

(a tribute to the many high sprung, highly strung spiritual internet groups ;-p)

I dont mean to be rude

but can you tell me if

where

or how

and does that work in society now?

Im having trouble,

you see two weeks ago

I lived a moment in my life

and had to let it go..

so...

I just want to ask do you know

where I could, or if maybe?

a sacrifice or retrospect

that you may see?

Im unsure.

so seeing the sign upon your door

--->this way to his kingdom,

I was impressed I must confess

but who or where or when and why and what

are we to do next?

Without instruction

I wonder for his existance

a conversation in which my voice seems persistant

so Id like, if its ok with you,

to ask a question or two

and if I may assume

an answer in retrospect

of life circumspect

then that will have to do.

The Monastery -

How I long now
for that cool stone beneath my feet
my god, my monastery, my keep
songs spill into the corridors
echos sailing that empty space of contemplation.
how I long to be alone in the shade of the vine draped verandah
for the smell of that leather bound book I would shut my eyes
feel the weight like an anchor to the grounding of that simple life
to know the unspoken gesture of a brother
to my own is alike
his gentle smile says all the words.
a vow of silence we take

From Within -

I give the all of me

not hidden, the intensity

but I dont know what you see

the fire burns inside

I give my everything

from deep inside of me

is that not for the taking

do I speak silently

and in the mist

is there a side of me

unborn within the story of my life.

The Lone Skater -

Moonlight bathes the ice
fluorescent diamond blue
A lone skater breathes in the space
cool mist filled breaths
enshrouding her pale face.
in silver threads she takes a step
gliding elegance of a silken web
she spins, floating on a misty air
to a lover she senses near
rushing through him
brushing gently over her skin
senses alive, a burning flight
blades slice the silence of the night
turning swiftly, chipped ice flies
a fountain of stars beneath her feet
to dance upon with easy grace

The Horseman Stands Waiting -

The child sits dazed in her own blood and faeces

unsure of what has happened

she brings a soiled hand up to her face

her degredation no longer a pallid place.

The horseman stops for her

Standing tall on a grassy mound

just outside, a little way off.

Slowly it dawns why the horesemen ride

as he looks at her with tender eyes

She had wanted to stay, had meant to

but somewhere too deep she knows

the world is full of atrocities, unthinkables

the mess in which she sits, her own.

The horseman waits patiently.

He will not go now, she understands

And she can stay no longer here

there is nothing left, no love, no fear

and she must go.

Somewhere unattached, she sits before him

as they ride out into a world unknown

she looks down upon her pale legs

to see them cleansed

and she sits alone.

The Promise of the Old Man -

Where once you stood tall, you will stand bent and crippled
Where once they gave you titles of every colour, they will not know your name
Where once you walked amongst men, many hours in stillness you will sit
Yet few will ask now for your wisdom
and you will see more than to offer it.
But to remember the promises of youth,
though many friends have dived along the way -
you gave a commitment, not to them, but for you.
to see it through to the end of the day.
For to embrace the old man, is to know what it was to be the boy.

To Stand Alone -

To stand alone
to walk amongst men
he stood
and then
he fell
hung from a tree

Open Doors -

Little by little I say goodbye
just as slow I say hello
gradually changing
gently rearranging
my life,
to a quiet room
with a ticking clock
and a threadworn armchair
fit for a lady of considerable age
to sit in silence there
in shafts of light
from a courtyard garden
stretching an impression
of living art upon my floor
while a whispering breeze
touches my hand
to make me aware of the open door
with no words left unspoken
no lovers left to bind
just the flowers of the spring
in the autumn of my mind
when the bees speak easy
of summers yet to come
and peaceful go the memories of many seasons gone
then I shall close my eyes
and listen for the blackbird there
and take the open door into the cool night air.