Tuesday 31 March 2015

STILLNESS:


Always fleeing from something or someone,

Ever running towards someone or something,

Escaping ourselves, yet without even looking,

 Ever rushing, to & fro, dashing, hither-thither,

Hurrying through life, seeking, achieving, aiming,

Always busily doing, planning, scanning, hopping,

All our childhood dreams, lost in rushing schemes,

Yet still we never find the big “IT” we´re seeking,

Born, grow, rush, achieve, love, hate, hurry, die,

Stop, be still, listen, look, heed, love, find the all,

Tick-tock, time merely marches swiftly forward,

Time flies by, without even a backward glance,

Be in stillness, peace, calm, & all will be revealed.

INVISIBLE FRIENDS:


I´ve never heard your voice, nor touched your face,

I live here & you live in some distant & far-off place,

I´ve never kissed your cheek, nor shook your hand,

Our friendship just happened & wasn’t even planned.

 

I´ve never offered you a meal, a tea, a coffee or wine,

 Yet strangely, still consider you, a good friend of mine,

We have never danced together, nor gone for a walk,

We have never sat in a restaurant for hours, just to talk.

 

In the days gone by, we´d have been pen-pals by name,

Now it´s twitter, face book & skype, in the end, the same,

But you are my friend afar, & I sincerely hope so forever,

That no matter the distance, we´ll always be together.

 

Called invisible friends, on-line, virtual, supposedly unreal,

But I know, that when I am happy or sad, I know you feel,

You hold out your hand & with kind words from your end,

Simply for that, I thank you, for being my very real friend.

 

TOWARDS FRIENDSHIP:


We´ll not walk towards the horizons afar,

We´ll not reach for that distant gold star,

We´ll not peer into fogged distance unseen,

We´ll not run towards old forests of green,

We´ll not go forward towards being friends,

We´ll not amble around bent corners & bends,

We´ll never ever hope to meet one another,

We´ll be united, as more than sister & brother,

We´ll never walk towards our friendship ever,

We´ll hold hands & we´ll only do it together.

Monday 30 March 2015

UNFETTERED:


The slave shall break tight links of fettered chain,

The ill & dying will eventually walk away from pain,

The suppressed will tire of being so black-mantled,

The poor shall rebel against being cruelly trampled,

The drudge shall turn her back without single blink,

The drowning shall decide to swim instead of sink,

The beasts shall break open doors of pens & cages,

The workers shall only toil for fairly paid wages,

The children shall insist on their going to schools,

The politicians will be forced to follow the rules,

The ignorant will want their right to all the books,

The folk will need no carrots upon dangling hooks,

The hungry shall take the food which is their due,

The thirsty will quench their thirst in more than dew,

The homeless shall have blanket, bed, a roof & more,

The entire world will insist that we all cease the war,

The end has come; our earth is weary of being broken,

The people, unfettered, have now finally awoken.

FRIENDS IN HIGH PLACES:


Beyond realms of reasoning, live my closest friends,

In places where skeptics call, “land of let´s pretend”,

Places beyond man´s eyes, & all learning of the most,

Life-friends, whom folk, so wrongly just call ghosts.

 

Goddesses of all elements, of our earth, air & sea,

Who dwell within all women & always part of me,

Spirit guides who know, & show me all the signs,

So that I may seldom trip, & never cross the lines.

 

My old Ancestors gone, lore keepers of the hearth,

Now preparing my way, & showing me right path,

The Angels all around me, protecting me since birth,

Surrounding me with love, in my journey upon earth.

 

Gods of all our seasons, & “The only one” above,

He who sees within, the mighty lion & sweet dove,

All my friends are these, all of whom we cannot see,

Yet I know for sure, that they´re always here with me.

 

Saturday 28 March 2015

SILLINESS:


So filled with silliness, is this childish sweet girl,

Lifting frilly skirts & tossing her soft pretty curls,

Dancing through days, without thought nor care,

Thinking always, that to her, life would be fair.

 

With love songs in her head & giggles in her belly,

Capriciously dining, on mint mousse & quince jelly,

She was a frisky fine frippet, so dashing & slippery,

Only garbing herself, in the best finest of fripperies.

 

Yet, who could not smile at this frivolous maid?

Who curtsied to blooms & deep forests of jade,

She, who talked to animals & birds of fine plume,

Leaving behind her, only music, beauty & perfume.

 

 

THE KISS:


The kiss, soft feathered breath upon new baby´s brow,

From proud mother, with promises of tomorrow & now,

It plasters the hurt of knocks, grazed knees & shed tears,

Escaping saddened ageing, of all our passing lived years.

 

The kiss, curls around limp tongues, dark & well hidden,

Until, by passionate lovers, is called & ardently bidden,

Exploring the nape, white breast & so very much more,

Floating upon softened whispers, as we beg & implore.

 

The kiss, sealing life´s vows, of the promised “I do”,

Sleeping soft as velvet, upon the words “I love you”,

Blown upon sad breezes, to those in their leavings,

Kisses all lost, within libido´s breathless soft heavings.

 

The kiss, chaste upon cheeks, of those in their dying,

Caressing old oaths, within life´s last & sad sighing,

Lips kissing lips, once hot & with passion did burn,

Now cold, kissing farewell, to the coffin & the urn.

 

 

Friday 27 March 2015

I WANT TO GO TO WALES:


I want to go to Wales,

 Where my old soul, is so deep interred,

Where choirs in the valleys, are ever heard,

Where Druids chant, in their snowy hoods,

And toss their Runes, in moss-clad woods.

 

I want to go to Wales,

Where golden daffodils fill forests & fields,

Where cwtches, the Welsh, so freely wield,

Where Bards wax lyrical, the sonnet & ode,

And old legends, over fires, are always told.

 

I want to go to Wales,

Where old voices ring out, upon tearful tunes,

Where suns gives way, to grey mists & moons,

I want to return to Wales, my soul´s old home,

And where I know for sure, I´ll never be alone.

 

 

 

I WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL MAMA:


I want to go to school Mama, but,

I´ve no clean water to wash at day´s start,

I´ve no clothes, in which to look smart,

I´ve no shoes, in which to walk to school,

The pupils will think that I´m just a fool,

I´ve no warm food to eat, to start my day,

I think it may be better, if at home, I stay,

I want to learn sums, how to read & write,

I want to know the sun & moon at night,

I have no books, no paper, no ruler, no pen,

Tell me Mama, how can I go to school then?

 

You´ll go to school child, but of another kind,

My child I shall teach you, of all that I know,

Of rivers, seas & of how the bush winds blow,

I shall show you animals & wild growing herbs,

I´ll teach you the languages of a thousand birds,

I´ll tell you about the sun, moon & a million stars,

I´ll show the secrets of planets, Jupiter & Mars,

Child of mine, remember, you´re nobody´s fool,

You don´t need new clothes just to go to school,

Your tutors shall be your own ears, heart & eyes,

Child, your life is the book that´ll make you wise.

Thursday 26 March 2015

ADVICE:


It´s time now my little one, to fly the nest,

To reach those high skies & to do your best,

The snows are now due & you must survive,

Fly far south now my little one & stay alive.

 

Your wings are small & are still very weak,

You still do not know how to use your beak,

Your feathers, my little one, yet far too soft,

But it is now the right time, to fly high aloft.

 

You will have to cross the vast oceans & seas,

You´ll learn differences between gale & breeze,

Always keep yourself on the thermal´s right side,

And never forget, that life´s one bumpy old ride.

 

Keep away from all men, with net, trap & gun,

Always keep your sweet face towards the sun,

From the egg you came, but now you must fly,

Freedom´s your name child, now do not cry.

 

JUDGEMENT:


Have I sinned my Lord, to such an extent?

That I am now mangled, crooked & bent,

Am I to be beaten straight, upon hot forge?

Till my sins & peccadilloes are all disgorged.

 

Have I sinned my Lord, beyond redemption?

So to Heaven, for me, there´ll be no ascension,

Purged & clean-scoured in confession & prayer,

Will that allow me to climb Gloria´s long stair?

 

Forgive me my Father, for I have greatly sinned,

As mere human, do you deem me now binned?

As I kneel before hallowed altar & sit in the pew,

Yet, you made me my Lord, in the image of you.

Monday 23 March 2015

WANDERING WISHES:


All wishes wander, from minds & quiet tongues,

Winging their way to old moons & faraway suns,

Vowed onuses put upon candles of aged cake,

With eyes closed, our yearned wishes we make.

 

Tossed with gold coins, into old wishing wells,

Sent to stars falling & in chimes of church bells,

Wishes, put into bottles & flung far into oceans,

Carried in beaks of bluebirds, our secret emotions.

 

Wishes slide down rainbows, in all colours of hope,

Soaring within prayers, by-passing sin & all Popes,

Dreamt in deep slumber, of midnight soft dreams,

Wishing, merely the magic of all best laid schemes.

 

SUGAR DADDY:


She´s with him now for all the wrong reasons,

For her fashion within the changing of seasons,

To her soul, she commits life´s little treasons.

 

She´s with him in plans & not merely a whim,

Diving in to sink, float, or merely just swim,

The superficial surfaces, she not only skims.

 

She´s with him, yet feelings of love cannot evoke,

It could be any man at all, gent or simply a bloke,

In time, her greed will surely stymie & so choke.

 

She´s as pretty as a picture & knows how to charm,

Strutting in the limelight, on sugar daddy´s old arm,

If only she knew, this is not love & one day will  harm.

 

 

Sunday 22 March 2015

ABUSE:


I’ve left my soul where the devil treads,

She said,

By so wrongly letting you into my head,

She said,

By serving your table & warming your bed,

She said,

I have known only hell, since the day we wed,

She said,

One soul for sale, I would rather be dead,

She said.

 

(Nobody should get to this state. Please be aware, watch, listen & help)

YOUR OLD AGE IN MY HANDS:


Put your old age in my hands,

We will dance in pyjamas, beneath old Crone moons,

We´ll leave behind wheelchairs & not eat our prunes,

We will forget our cholesterol & dine on fine oysters,

We´ll pray to the stars & escape society´s tight cloisters.

 

Put your old age in my hands,

In our slippers, we shall tiptoe away from sore bones,

Hypertension we´ll etch, upon our ancient tombstones,

We´ll leave behind, all our soppings, moppings & oozings,

Instead, we´ll make whoopee, in our old drunken boozings.

 

Put your old age in my hands,

We shall toast our old love in kisses & bloody red wine,

We shall raise our glasses & toast the rest of our time,

It may soon be over for us, & we may not have long,

So put your old age in my hands, it´s where it belongs.

ISN´T IT STRANGE?


Isn´t it strange, how the dead long sleep?

How women are strong & grown men weep,

Isn´t it strange, how all wars bestow gongs?

How the soul can veer, yet never be wrong,

Isn´t it strange, hardest workers are ant & bee?

How mankind must struggle, just to be free,

Isn´t it strange, how the heart ever yearns?

How despite his falling, man never learns,

Isn´t it strange, how the babies must grow?

How memories get lost, on winds that blow,

Isn´t it strange, how the human being tumbles,

How, no matter the life, the soul never crumbles,

Isn´t it strange, how the child falls, sobs & cries?

How he always rises, always gets up & always tries.

 

Saturday 21 March 2015

DISINTEGRATION:


Innocence in babe, disintegrates in man,

Drought rends earth, where rain once ran,

The silken spun web breaks, in gusted gales,

Laughter, too soon, ends within sad wails,

Petals drop, at the end of their flowering,

Leaves fall, within Autumn´s first showering,

Love withers & ends with cruelly tossed word,

Feathers drift away, merely leaving the bird,

Sleep ends the day, with the closing of lashes,

Life disintegrates, within the scattering of ashes.

TONGUES OF FIRE:


Don´t talk to me with tongues of fire,

In words of brimstone & spittle of ire,

Don´t preach to me of hellfire & sin,

Talk to me, of how in life, I can win.

 

Talk to me of love, but in tongue serene,

Not of ugly & bad, but of good supreme,

Not by taking the Lord´s name in vain,

Talk to me in prayer, not in words inane.

 

SMALL MOUNDS OF EARTH:


“Enough”, said The Lord, of small mounds of earth,

Of all babies & children, from sad scarcity & dearth,

The blameless small innocents, gone far too soon,

The little ones, to whom, mothers no longer croon,

Aids, malaria, hunger, so many diseases & more,

While we upon our knees, to our Lord, so implore,

Those abandoned without love & no one to care,

We ask of the Gods, “Tell us, why is life so unfair?”

Born into suffering should never have been the plan,

Where girls never be mothers & boys never the man,

Thwarted in growth by guns & the greedy man´s war,

By dirty muddy puddles, where rains no longer pour,

For what reasons, did they ever reach their birth?

When the good Lord up above has to say,

 “Enough now, of those small mounds of earth”.

Friday 20 March 2015

THE LITTLE CARER:


No parents now to call her own,

Caring for granny, coping alone,

Nursing, cleaning, & ever tending,

Mopping, feeding & always bending,

Sops, sips, the turned pillows & pills,

Lotions, potions, guarding Nan´s ills,

No school, just living in no man´s land,

Nobody to help her, nor lend a hand,

No one to turn to, while she cares,

As the world goes by & simply stares.

FRIEND OF THE DARK:


She´s friend of the friendless & all deemed dark,

She knows, to listen to voices where no man harks,

She´s ally of wolves, Gods & old grey tombstones,

Of ravens standing guard, over white sacred bones.

 

She seeks her friendships, where sad dreams lurk,

Converting into smiles, the saddened frown & smirk,

She dances in the forests, where the old wolves howl,

Knowing all hidden messages, behind those who growl.

 

Garbed in ebon-black, she charms all within her sway,

Tiptoeing through old places, where the mists lay grey,

She´s friend of all dark, upon the quiet stepped stairs,

She glides silently at night, where no man ever dares.

 

Thursday 19 March 2015

TOUCHING SILK:


The blind man was asked, “Do you miss your seeing?”

He smiled & said, “No, for all I touch is as soft as silk”,

The baby’s cheeks, where hope & new roses bloom,

My lover´s breast, where I touch, is of creamiest milk,

I feel upon my brow, the passing of bird´s softest plume,

Who needs sight, when touching silk, is all of my being?

 

My darling´s lips are velveteen, bestowed within her kiss,

Petals caress my senses, & within their perfume, lingered,

Fur of prowling beast, is the softest silk of my best friends,

Your love´s promises, by me, are still so silkenly fingered,

Your final ashes, through my fingers, to heaven I will send,

In my ribboned prayers whispered, it´s you in silk, I´ll miss.

NOCTURNAL BECKONINGS:


Whenever night clicked his black patent heels,

Off she´d go, to dance tangos in dark smoky dens,

Until dawn throws down her sharp arrowed lance,

Then home she´d wend, numb & unable to feel.

 

When red wine beckoned her with a glint, to come,

Off she´d go & with the green bottles, she´d linger,

Until her glass was empty & the tired night yawned,

Then home she´d weave, cursing at the cruel sun.

 

Whenever the night beckoned & tempted her away,

Off she´d go, lured by swaying music & soft promises,

Until the tickling sunrise taunted her sad loneliness,

Then home she´d trudge, hating the infernal day.

Wednesday 18 March 2015

CAMISOLE OF OLD LACE:


All remaining, was her camisole of old lace,

Replacing old memories of her now distant face,

By her hand once sewn, & upon breast softly worn,

Now touched by his wept tears, old, faded & torn.

 

Her perfume of lavender, still danced & fingered,

Upon rose petal silk, where his old hand lingered,

Recalling their nights of love, beneath darling moons,

He hears music in the rustling of lace dancing tunes.

THE CACTUS AND THE MOON:


The thorny cactus all alone, & in the desert so forlorn,

Where land is friendless & by searing heat so very torn,

 Moon looks down on cactus, within the dead of night,

Her opal heart wrenched, at poor cactus´s sad plight,

Alone, where only grainy sands sigh & so softly shifts,

Between earth & sky, leaving solitary & starry rifts,

Old cactus tells the Moon, within the glare of day,

“My eyes hurt with not seeing you, so very far away”,

Moon smiles sadly, down upon desert´s barren land,

 “Cactus, I find solace in my stars & you within your sand”.

Tuesday 17 March 2015

THE LONELY BOTTLE:


From vineyard he came, filled with red wine,

From sun fathered grape & tendrilled soft vine,

Green bottled in bodega & in cellar, cool stored,

Bought by imbibers & by fine diners implored.

 

Wine supped bottle, now empty, sad & discarded,

Last drop licked off rim & by tramps disregarded,

Now kicked upon cobbles, so far from jade vine,

No longer man´s friend, nor of ruby blood wine.

 

Green bottle now lonely, within its silica yearning,

A message it´s entrails, tossed on waves churning,

All that´s now left, its crystal soul to be smashed,

In smithereens, upon foreign rocks, to be crashed.

 

Monday 16 March 2015

FICKLE FRIENDS:


Oh how I miss you, my dear, yet fickle friends,

You who come & go, in games of “let´s pretend”,

Who congregate in names, of happiness, love & joy,

Friends more fickle, than woman, man, girl or boy.

 

You pop around corners & bestow me your smiles,

You all hold my hand, then you run away for miles,

Then, just when I think, you´re here with me to stay,

Dear fickle friends, from me, you then all run away.

WINGS BESTOWED:


She unpinned her wings & bestowed them to me,

Saying, “Please fly for me, it is now time I was free”,

With a flurry of white feathers, she left this old earth,

She went off to heaven, to that old land of her birth.

 

Wearing her wings, to me, were to be big shoes to fill,

I´d do my best by her & what she bestowed in her will,

And I would sure try my best, to be an Angel like her,

But I am merely a human & she had a heart of a bird.

Sunday 15 March 2015

ENERGY:


Give me bursting energy, so I may thrive,

With verve, vim, pep & zest, I shall survive,

Of fertile earth & root, fresh new thrusting,

From dark shadow, serpent´s skin, dry busting.

 

No dull grey mists want I, of sad & banal shade,

No long dark nights, where one must feel afraid,

Pray, do not give me breeze, of sapid soft incline,

Just send me gales of wind that dance & wind.

 

I want no lupine blue; just give me crimson red,

Of scarlet blood, throbbing within drunken head,

I want the hot stamping, ranting & flamenco feet,

I want to feel, in your loving, the earth´s music beat.

 

I need to feel the paprika breath of the dragon´s ire,

Of heated passions charred, within our raged desire,

Not the calm, but old storms spitting, in saliva´s rage,

Give me beasts out prowling, not interred in cage.

 

 

Friday 13 March 2015

LET ME SHOW YOU EOSTRE:


Let me show you Eostre,

Of running streams & new emerald moss,

Not of crucifixion’s bloody splintered cross,

Of white clad Druids, in their chanting woods,

Not of whipping penitents, in their Easter hoods.

 

Let me show you Eostre,

Of new hares gamboling, over blue lupine fields,

Not of crying tears, nor of dogma´s triste spiels,

Of new roots, eggs, sprouts & of all growing life,

Not of death, pain, nor of resentful, sinning strife.

 

Let me show you Eostre,

Of glad celebrations, around joyful maypole´s song,

Not the preaching, of all that is so sinfully wrong,

Of merrybegots begat, beneath full romantic moons,

Not of the wailing & groaning, of those doleful tunes.

 

Let me show you Eostre,

Of stories from Ancestors & their old legends told,

Not of any soul, for pieces of silver, once sadly sold,

Of love, happiness & giving new season, joyful wings,

Let me show you Eostre, where the soul sweetly sings.

 

LISTEN TO THE SILENCE:


Listen to the silence, where all the quiet voices talk,

To the footsteps tiptoed, where the dead now walk,

Listen to the breezes, where the old whispers breathe,

To the traipsing wept tears, when vowed promises leave,

Listen to caress upon breast, where lover´s breath lingers,

To the sweet soft dreams, sent by Angel´s gentle fingers,

Listen to God´s answers, within the slumbering of prayer,

Heed & listen, to ancestors waiting, upon life´s final stair.

FIVE SAD TEARDROPS:


I´ve watched you shed five sad teardrops,

For the one you have ever loved only,

I´ve watched you shed four sad teardrops,

For the sons who´ve left you lonely,

I´ve watched you shed three sad teardrops,

For the triad of your lost dreams,

I´ve watched you shed two sad teardrops,

For all your unlived schemes,

I´ve kept one unshed sad teardrop, given by you to me,

To weep upon your tomb, when at last you´re flying free.

Thursday 12 March 2015

HOLY MEN:


I asked the Priest, “Where is God when I´m in the lurch?”

He told me I would find Him, only if I went to his church,

I asked the Rabbi, “Where is God in this world so unfair?”

He told me that I would find Him, upon life’s final stair,

I asked the Imam, “Where is God when I´m feeling down?”

He told me I would find Him, within the authoritive frown,

I asked the Guru, “Where is God of every man & nation?”

He told me that I would find Him, within reincarnation,

I asked the Lama, “Where is God, when continue, I can´t?”

He told me I would find Him, within mantra´s old chant,

I asked them all, “Where is God, when I´ve lost all hope?”

In Church, Synagogue, Temple, Pagoda & Vatican of Pope,

From pillar to post I would search, ramble & wearily rove,

Until I reached the old Druid, within his green forest Grove,

I asked him, “Where is God? I have searched far & so wide,

Ever so gently he said, “Child, He lives within you, deep inside”.

DRY YOUR TEARS:


Dry your tears, but not upon paper tissues,

Your tears would merely melt them all away,

Dry your tears, but not within the wind,

Your tears would remain dried upon your cheek,

Dry your tears, but not on the back of your hand,

Your tears would disappear without sense or trace,

Dry your tears, but not upon cuff of your sleeve,

Your tears would just wetly & sadly remain there,

Dry your tears, but only with your head on my breast,

Your tears, where my heart will surely feel them.

Wednesday 11 March 2015

HE SEARCHED:


He searched for her, beyond the realms of birth,

He willed her spirit to come, down upon earth,

He thought he saw her, in each leaf of all trees,

Recognizing her in feathers, flying upon breeze.

 

He searched for her, on trace of perfumes passing,

Within ending “Amen” of prayers, eternally lasting,

He thought he heard her, within blackbird´s tunes,

He saw her dancing, within beams of cream moons.

 

He searched for her in sunshine & early dawn dew,

Upon the wings of butterflies, as away, they flew,

Becoming a father dimmed, upon hope´s dying death,

She arrived, calling him Daddy, on her new baby´s breath.