Tuesday 27 November 2012

LOVE MORPHS:



Hand in hand, steamily slicked and probing,
Hot passionate lust and of urgent disrobing,
Of youthful impatience, groping and urging,
Of life´s sweet juices flowing freely, surging,
Love morphs into:

Hand in hand, soft, gentle, delicately ringed,
Now harnessed, stabled, love´s clipped wing,
Forever caressing, promising, and softly sighing,
Belonging to smiles, giving and kind complying,
Love morphs into:

Hand in hand, hard-worked, warm, cracked, red,
Duties, siring and the raising of those you´ve bred,
Love now spread wide, for more than only just one,
Shared now with wife, daughter and also with son,
Love morphs into:

Hand in hand, wrinkled, reassuring, tender and lined,
Our future, present and past, now all over and signed,
Tired, dry and dusty, but still together both you and I,
Our love has grown from passion and will never ever die,
Love has morphed, but is still here.

FAREWELL OLD SPANISH TOWN:



I bid you fond farewell, adios you sad old Spanish town,
Oh you, of black-oil-slicked beach & gypsy face of brown,
Of those angry olive eyes that I have so come to despise,
I feel your painful shame, seeing you in your sorry demise.

Walking through the ancient, grey & silently dawned streets,
The waking struggling sunshine emerging in cold cobbled pleats,
My only company, the black town rats & oily crisp flying papers,
And toffee-coloured cockroaches in their scuttling sunrise capers.

Mocking me, the hurdy-gurdy flamenco of harsh Spanish voices,
Echoing their wailings & at my leaving, shouts “ole´ ole´”& rejoices,
At the whistling music of the whiplashed Levante & kicked rolling tins,
I wend my way around my lost Spanish past & the overfilled foul bins.

I traipse through the morning´s aching forgotten stained pavements,
The prayer on my tear stained lips, is but a silent thankful statement,
Farewell, adieu, adios & goodbye, I say to you, old grey Spanish town,
Gracias & thank you for nothing & for all you have given this old clown.

Thursday 22 November 2012

CIRCLE:



In the orbital spinning of dying & living,
Child, youth, middle-age and old dying,
The circle of life is a continuous abyss,
 Unknown mystery, misery & total bliss.

Birth, appearing from death´s dark chasm,
Red & twitching with angry howl & spasm,
Not knowing which way, nor how to go,
Having a choice, left, right, fast or slow.

Growing, at times feeling woe & sadness,
But we can instead, opt for joy´s gladness,
Instead of looking glum upon the ground,
We can soar up above & not look down.

Death leads to our very first in-taken breath,
We live our lives, then silently,in tiptoes death,
Anew we are born & first breath taken again,
And we struggle to restart the circle of pain.

MISSIVE OF LOVE:



Dance me through the blood-red roses,
Through the lilac dawns of waving wheat,
Shower me with summer´s yellow posies,
And bed me upon fragrant lavender sheets,
Tell me tales of Tuareg´s sandy wanderings,
And the waxing of errant poet´s ponderings,
Tell me you love me in the arms of the moon,
Through snowy Noels & crisp spring Junes,
Weep me cool waterfalls with tears of joy,
Remind me in age, that we´re still girl & boy,
Whisper me winds that waltz with the sea,
And tell the breeze that you´ll stay with me.

BROTHER:



Brother, let me be your country, your state, your safe haven´s nation,
Let me protect you from now on & let me hold you close & to me dear,
In this harsh world where we are alone, let me be your peaceful station,
Where you can come for me to hold you, tightly & to be closely near.

Separated by life´s cruel destiny, so young & without a say, you & I,
Drifting on breezes & wafting on the aching winds of endless lost time,
Getting lost in the vast firmament above, of heaven´s starry staring sky,
Carried upon the billowing surf & choking upon the tears of pickled brine.

Forever searching, I followed your footprints around the hot African sun,
Seeking & hoping they were yours, I tasted the tears from a million rains,
Looking at every moonbeam, hoping I would find your smile within just one,
I only wanted to hold you close & to chase away all your heart aching pains.

Like sticks, pebbles & stones, we were tossed astray, you one way, I the other,
Through mistaken fate & no small child´s choice of our own innocent making,
I have spent all my life seeking, searching, looking for you my little lost brother,
As our young past youth, life & its living, insisted cruelly on separating & taking.

 In our minds & hearts & behind closed lids, years have drifted so swiftly away,
As two old people, at last we have met & from afar I recognized & knew you,
And I now make a vow, I promise to you that I won´t go away, I´m here to stay,
I shall hold you close forever my little brother, in old age, just us two, Tim & Sue.