Between the lines

I'm sorry that,

I let you down...

By failing at,

everything you made me into.

Just like a clown,

for crying out loud...

I'm sorry that

I let you down.

And the black eyes run into

red lips, a painted face drippjng

like candle wax.

Rivers of tears reveal a truth,

beneath the face- just me,

not you.

I'm sorry that,

I let you down...

By failing at

everything you made me into.

Just like a clown,

crying out loud,

not sorry that

I let you down.

That dreamy road
That road of tears

flies of summer buzzing round
pubescent sweat,
oppressed by more than
seasons heat. The slow beat
of endless days following
the hellish track,
each dusty breath
leading back
home.

Autumn storms
charge like fleeing herds -
migrating birds walking
a wire - the journey
begins. Trees sing the last post,
dipping bows earthward
as if to say,
farewell.

That dreamy road,
that road of tears,
leading ever onwards....
 through the years.

Oak Lea

From deepest shadows of tallest trees,
across the sun lit forest lea,
In shadows of a fading fire,
I watch the tribe about their day.

The air grows cold, evening falls,
They celebtatr the night away
Still...unsure of why I'm here,
I see the tribal effigy.

Sinking deep within the trees,
shadows leap from leaf to leaf,
familiarity alights like screams,
the effigy I see is me...

Angel of the Sea

Angel of the sea,

cool, calm, quiet, serene,

hypnotic waves lull innocence

towards your cold, dark deep.

Secret Spaces

Secret spaces, special places,

corners of shadow and light,

hidden from sight.

Beneath the window, she breathes,

whilst net curtains, yellowed with age, billow in the breeze -

symbol of oppression, now frail and weak,

From the shadows, she sees.

Gathering strength from the naked floor,

she stands now, tall.

Embracing pleasure and pain of

shattered glass remains, she stands upon the sill

ready to fly, to fulfil the journey of her life.

Seeds of summer

Seeds, like souls drifting

on currents unseen,

living life between,

seeking growth,

swayed by sighs

or excited cries, as

children's hands reach out,

to catch fairies in the sky.

Seeds, like souls fly freely,

seeking fertile lands;

nestling sleepy heads

 in earths nurturing hands.

Listening to deaths deep silence,

awaking to songs of dawn.

Souls, like seeds drifting

ready to be born.

The Birth of Summer

Summer grows within me,

seed as yet unseen,

foetal fluttering fills the womb

like colour fills a dream.

Flowers sleep still softly

in gentle silken curves,

heady scented beauty

waiting to unfurl.

Warm pools fill with river dreams,

such gentle springs adorned, 

with natures gentle lullabies,

to sing a summer born.

Something

Each day comes,

each day goes.

One day,

one time,

no steps to success

or ladders to climb.

Just now. Just me. Just here...

and...

 and... 

and something-

Something else,

something only felt,

each day,
each time,

though nothing is known;

nothing is mine.

Just here. Just now. Just me...

and something..
something else,.

something more sublime.  

How tough ?

Night owls, early birds tough

Never quite enough tough

Planning grind and wine tough

Searching for more time tough

4000 words, five days tough

Cancelled mothers days tough

Sleepy drives home tough

Trying not to moan tough

Take away for tea tough

Living waits for me tough

Work-a-way dreams tough

Ripping at the seams tough

Observation fears tough

Need another beer tough

Nearly had enough tough

Made of tougher stuff

The Painting

He hangs a painting
representing reality, in blue.
Obscuring insanity,
an ever deepening crack
beneath the frame,
a story obscuring the remains
of what he used to be,
hiding - afraid
of responsibility,
he lives, a painted story,
obscuring the cracks
of reality.

Time

5 years,
7 years,
10 years.
 Time!

Passing instants of the mind.

Flashing, fading, shining, alive.

Unwillingly re-living

memories.
Forgiving,

Caring,
 Loving,
 Healing.

Time!

The strength and the weakness

Yours is the strength of body.

With those broad hands, you may

take a life or demand your will be met,

with threat.

For yours is the weakness, weakness of mind.

May you live to learn - broad hands can be kind.

Yours is the strength of unbound charm.

In charismatic tones, you may

gather an army, show them the way,
to make the innocent or vulnerable
pay.

For yours is the weakness, an ego blind.

May you live to see your own guiding light.

Yours is the strength of a leader.

With self-conviction, you may

bring the world together in harmony
 or break down those that dare 
to walk free.

For yours is the weakness - need to control

May you live to love, to let go of your hold.

Yours is the strength of spirit.

With grace and dignity, you may

love each weakness, accept each strength,

and still walk

your own way.

Natural Flow

 

Many lifetimes pass in that moment of love or rage.

Recurring ripples rebound

like an ocean caged, age

after age.

 

In betrayal and sin - in bitterness

and forgiveness I have been.

Too many lifetimes lived

in that reverberating scream!

 

Now in strength I recall,

every victory - every fall.

With God I sit and laugh

at it all.

 

:):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):)

 

To feel such anguish and yet

to forgive.

To set the oceans free

to be - to live.

 

To speak in spirit,

keep silence clear.

To abide, realise,
turn the sphere
of fate -to take
responsibility,

though you did me wrong,
my voice,
my life,
my song,
goes on.
  

 

...........................................  >  ............

 

 

 

 

 

 

Driving at Daybreak - Autumn 2015

 

Each day, awakening;

emerging from the dim lit night,

rising up the Eastern slope -

My view, the patchwork quilt

of silver misted fields below.

 

As nature wakes, I rise again
upon the gently winding road,

through shades of grey or misty haze,

following dawn's golden glow,

up, over and down I flow.

 

Breathing in crisp morning air,

Ben Howard on the radio,
fresh flavours of new life laid bare,
I cannot help but smile,
to see the sunrise of my life
stretched out across the miles.
 

 

 

Autumn Responds

 

Morning's gold, no mist could tame.

No depth of darkness could remain.

As Autumn's warm glow creeps stealthily,

to claim each shrouded valley.

 

Responding to her regal presence,

trees turn to face her glory -

bronzing, floating, dancing leaves

sing of summer's story.

Sweet Child

 

Little voice, in a wilderness,

Flames of amber, falling west.

Praying for equality,

Innocence, ever blessed.

 

Whispered song, falling tear,

Open arms, embracing fear,

Loyalty strong, a gentle soul.

Standing alone, but ever near.

 

Grateful heart, peaceful mind,

Forgiving, faithful, loving, kind.

Hope's melody, eternal song,

Sweet child of mine, dancing on.

Slugs Ugs ;-)

 

Slugs hide in daylight under stones,

afraid that butterflies might see,

how very ugly slugs can be.

 

Late at night, the sludgy slime

leaves trails as they crawl,

that shine beneath the morning light, 

so slug can hide no more. 

 

But butterflies do not care, to seek out slimy slugs.

Nor look for beauty by its face,

but only by its love.

 

So slug really need not hide its ugly face away,

It is the trail of ugly lies that shines beneath the day.

 

The New Me

In that place again,

Undiagnosed.

Awaiting unknown.

Symptoms living, living symptoms,

carrying on... alone.

In that place again,

Auto-immunity.

Butterflies and wolves

within me, running with me,

carrying on... alone.

In that place again,

Loving memory

Strong in grace,

in spirit, in ancestry.

Ingrained, deeply... in solidarity.
Carrying on, alone. 

Prejudice in the Papers

 

Like fools, drunk on knowledge,

looking through shot glasses

at distorted images

of a cockangled world.

 

Downing media manipulation

to quench a fear fed thirst -

to know a little more

than the man next door.

  

Kaleidoscopes of lies flow through minds

of machine made men,

stuffing full the empty casing with ill informed bias,

garbled as some higher truth, devoid of reality -

like fixing strings to puppets of vanity.

An unfinished poem... waiting for the autumn :)

 

The world breathes with me.

A deep filled peace, embracing

life with loves gentle hand.

Listening, the natural heart beats,

vibrating through naked feet

that dance beneath the trees of summer.

High above, their swaying tips ripple,

like waves upon an ancient sea, drifting

upon the currents of life,

a circle of beauty, the eagle soaring,

warmth beneath her wings in flight,

she dances in the heat of summer.

You never really asked me, but...

 

I'm missing you today, not always,

just when I'm lonely, when I'm afraid

and when I'm feeling down. I miss not having you around.

You never noticed me really, you weren't kind or loving particularly,

but your laughter made me smile, and forget just for a while.

Like everything was ok again...

and I could be a normal friend,

we could just enjoy a night out clubbing,

without all this reality bugging

me.

 

But I could never be that friend you see, because I have issues,

I have a disability.

My weather isn't always fair,

My mind isn't always there, with you.

It's back in a past I can't explain and that pain, is mixed up with today.

I can't share this with you, and truth being, you never really wanted me to..

So this is where we parted ways, you into some shiny day, and me -

well I just kept on going and... though you never asked,

I survived, I'm doing ok, beneath the sun at last. 

Love's Prayer

 

Let them flow, the rivers from your eyes

Let me feel the pain on which you rise

Let us swim in oceans deep

Let me hold you while you weep

Let us rise together in morning's mist

Let me touch your face or plant a kiss

Let me whisper lightly in your ear

To let you know that I am here

To show that you are not alone

For I was never truly gone

Octopus

 

Prodding, poking, hoping, searching for

some reaction from the object

of a hell bent path.

Twisting ropes of meaning from innocent tongues,

entangling prey

in worn out netting.

Contorted images come alive to unwary passers by,

as crippled fingers point at

distorted reflections.

 

Like octopi blinded by blackened waters,

carrying inky currents, born

of outgrown defences. 

 

Grasping for light, as darting fish flash - flying free,

silver hearts ever gliding, laughing, riding
 the currents beyond it's reach.  

 

Writing in Moonlight

Silent, whispering, quivering leaves,

their ghostly dance seducing

spirits of moonlight.

Waking moments, slipped into a dream,

like dragons breath evaporating

in misty visions.

Light, like ribbons floating on a stream,

glistening waterways calling 

through the darkness.

 

Stepping out into a sea of crystal,

floating upon its silvery palm,

guided ever onward.

Sharing poetry

 

Black crow's rasping voice sings without melody,

breaking silence like shattered shells, 

once held against an innocent ear, 

that a child might hear the sea.

Searching into blues dark deep,

Paper flowers of poetry unfold;

Each coloured petal opening.

to tell a tale untold. 

 

Broken blackness, glistening eyes,

worlds of words like butterflies;

flowering, fruiting, seeding, sowing, growing -

sharing, poetry flies.

Dreamer

 

Ripples cascade through night's deep pool

Stars skim the satin surface of darkness

Like dreams beneath a sleeping eye.

 

Silver born wings through empty space 

gently touch moon's sleeping face

Fluttering lids, like butterflies wake. 

The Butterfly and Me

 

Her fluttering heart descended

from a warm September sky,

dancing upon innocence,

that graceful butterfly.

 

She stills upon the window clear,

a goddess' gentle breath;

creations voice personified,

silent wings outstretched.

 

Deep purple peacocked eyes

upon a regal red,

delicate divine beauty,

born of silken thread.

 

To cherish a moment shared,

the butterfly and me...

I open wide the window,

that she may fly now, free.

I am the Warrior (PTSD)

I am the warrior with sword held high
long after the battle is done.
 The dead lay silent of their battle cry,
the living have all since run.

I am the warrior crying out,
the boy already flown.
Toys lay broken down with age,
the child, a man now grown.

I am the warrior marching on
a bridge already crossed,
reaching out for shadows
of comrades long since lost.

I am the warrior coming home
to a world in darkness, blind,
to the images of war's scarred heart
still beating in my mind.

I am the warrior alone,
fighting just to breathe.
Lover's smiles have long since passed,
a soldier now I grieve.
 

An Unfinished Walk

 

Low cloud sits upon the hill,

shrouding her beauty

beneath it's cool blue grey.

She lays, nurtured in a misty calm,

awaiting the rays of dawn,

as they rise above her western slopes,

like a shroud gently lifting in wisps of smoke.

An Everyday Moment in Time

 

Being the ticking of the clock; sounds of sweet bird song.
The movement of the wind and flower yet undone.
Being the cat waiting; memory of afternoon painting.
The smile of now and wilful anticipation.
Being the breath in my lungs and aching limbs.
Poetry forthcoming and computer screens.
Being the fish not yet cooked for tea.
The glass of wine and wispy dream.
Being of the beginning and this far come.
Being just me, being one.

The worm of enlightenment ( A tongue in cheek eye view ;))

It burrows deftly beneath

war blackened armoury.

It must have entered through

an unguarded ear, I think.

Dancing upon the drum

of inaugural beats.

Lodged in the frontal cortex,

conversing through its backward train

of thought. Seeking

Balance and harmony,

battling authority

of minds irregularity,

biting on clarity

biting on clarity

biting on clarity,

never to let it go.

  

To Live (All of me)

 

All of me

All of me

Mountain heather and fallen tree

Following the ocean's way

Meadows sweet and Autumn's leaf

Child alone, on the corner of the street

Owls journey through the night

White wolf's guidance, kindness runs deep

Footprints red on virgin snow

Within the cave a child hides

From raging storm and volcanic flow.

A lions broken lives to pay

A kitten small and vulnerable

A Celtic warrior queen at war

An eagle's flight, a child-like core 

All of me

All of me

All of me

more.

Skyrise

 

The once still sky

Sings as they fly,

Magnificent,

Free,

Alive...

One hundred thousand

Butterflies rise.

Listen

 

Broken Doll,

Heart of black tar.

Melting,

Melting,

Disappearing. No More!

 

A friend,

In silence,

Ghost from the past.

Speaking,

Listening,

She hears. At last.

A baby cries

Into the air -

Nobody hears her,

She is not there.

 

A child's voice

Screams inside -

Afraid the Wolf,

In darkness hides.

 

A young girl screams

At a waiting world -

Butterflies broken wings,

Unfurled.

 

A woman hides

Her soul away -

Silence,

Her price to pay.

 

To hold a babe in gentle arms,

Speak words of comfort to a child,

To quieten a youngsters rage,

And settle every debt she'll pay.

 

To walk together,

Linking arms...

Supporting, comforting,

Loving, calm.

 

 

 

 

Broken glass screams in my mind
like splintered shards burning in the aching heat
scratching down white gloss paint into unforgiving iron beneath.

I shake my head to rid it of it's shattered points,
The noise screeches, louder and louder, rattling the deepest pain,

Then sinks and settles, to dumb numbness once again.

A Winter Butterfly

March turns, still snow clings stubbornly to the hills.
And though I long for spring to come,
The silent crystal beauty of winter gone
A warmth to melt the heart that beats alone
Easter hatchlings welcomed to my home

I feel a tear run down the craggy slopes
And long for dreams of stillness, mountain hopes,
Yet all must flow until the rivers burst
To drench the sleeping meadows
To quench the summer thirst.

My Child

Tonight will be ok my child
released from that cage,
Don't let them take your little heart away
with all the anger they display.
Tonight will be ok my child.
Tommorow another day.

Cowardice

What does a man think when he watches another

Put hands around a woman’s fragile neck

And squeeze, until she passes

To unconsciousness?



What does he fear when he sees a knife

Drawn and held against a woman’s dying face,

Her body slouched

Trapped

Beneath the weight?



What goes through his mind as he runs away

To take his brother

To a safer place?


As fear and cowardice fill his veins

Does he sit alone

And contemplate?



What fills his heart when the strength

Of a victim

Goes beyond his own?


Does he hurt,

His guidance rejected

As she walks alone?

Frozen Fear

Shivering cold

Freezing fear

Movement dies

With Darkness near

Lost to myself

Ripped from the sheets

Dirty hands

Reach too deep

Drifting someway out to sea

Waiting to return to me

The Healers Herb

Solemnly Lavender stretches

Gentle arms into the glow of evening sun.

Scented harmonies float 

In summer palms, warmed as one

Bees dance entranced 

In nectar’ed melodies

A blackbird’s song brightens 

The shadow of the trees

In the distance Harvest waits

For Lavender to succumb

Beneath the reapers quiet blade

and Healers gentle thumb

Dog rose creeps

Spiralling tendrils twist around 

Her transluscent skin.

Years pass

She is still...

Unflinching

His precious thorns work

A magic in

Soft, sensuality kicks

Until

At once. In pain

She is pierced with poisoned tips

Secrets

Tonight the moon looks upon me

My silence, so hard to keep

Outside wind roars

As if to comfort my raging heart.

Knives

She pulls the knives from her heart.

 Raw flesh clings to cold steel

like a faithful companion;

afraid of the warming pool

that must surely flow

My Reality

Reality sticks 

like words of amalgamating phlegm

hardening within

my ever tightening throat

to speak I must surely choke.

The Night Before Christmas

Eye watering

iron spikes,

supporting

tiny tinseling needles.

Contriving to convince

the wine weakened mind,

of tree lined pathways

toward the sanctuary

of angels.

Angel heart

Once I saw a beautiful woman

open her wings and fly

Then I saw her blackened heart

Shrivel up and die.

Eyes lost in the wilderness

I could not bring her back

Everyday she whipped herself

To gain a life of lack.

And all she ever needed

To gently pull her through

Were arms coiled close around her

And those words - I Love You

As she rose, I watched her

Dissapear into a light

Bent double, I bore her pain

Into my own dark night.

For we who live can barely say

We've touched anothers heart

And Angels cannot bear the pain

We suffer when we part.

 

Driven by Beauty

 

The Whale..stranded.
It's red eye bleeding tears.
Fishermen
circle like predators
With trusted tools of death - boat and net
hours go by...their hearts persist
these catchers of the sea.

To turn their tools to loving grace,
and set the stranded whale free.

One Less Healer

There's one less Healer
   in the world tonight,

Another face Blends
   into brown,

Souls swallow
  the Darkness
 

unseen

 
A face smiles to the
 Safe benality,

 
  Wage packet reads
  'Remove Edges first'

  That carefully Sealed
   Prostitution of Dreams

 

A Personal Entry

My world is dying behind me, but as I look out of my eyes I see
the bountiful beauty all around.
Yet, though my body is filled with love for, I know not what..
I feel so far away from this earth I have loved so much.

A Moment of Stillness (or...A housewifes rest)

 

Bubbles float
on a breeze
like shirts suspended from a washing line

Impatience

These days linger
like venom upon
a tongue
thirsty for change

A Crack in the Window

The sweetest breeze
squeezing through
a crack in the window,
letting nostagia flow
 
Sensualy within
a forgotton being.
Suddenly feeling
there may still be

a world beyond the pain.
 
Fingers imprint the dirt of yesterday,
pushing the glass,
opening the crack
a little way further,

To breathe the heady scents
into hidden spaces