That wind that blows
against the crows
ruffled feathers in the snow.
The field mouse burrowed,
keeping warm,
waiting out, the Winters storm.

And then at last
as darkness fades,
slowly Spring will take the reigns.
Light returning to the days,
colours spring
once more from shade.
Slowly, as the Winter fades.

She painted pictures in her dreams,
A secret canvas
no one sees.
Colours,
blending into form,
Forever there,
since she's been born.

Patterns from a different time,
embellish hopes within her mind.
With every sketch,
her thoughts would wonder.
To a place
well far beyonder.

She told me once,
"All that you dream,
"You can own,
if you believe".

"Sketch the world
inside your mind
Recieve the grace
   that time will find".

And as the brush
rests on the table.
Lyrics, pictures,words,
and fables.
All within her knowing eyes,
A thousand different shades of sky.

The runt down by the river.
Canvas sheets that form a home.
Locked within the magic.
Most every moment
spent alone.
Lost within the nature
Yet somehow always finds a way.
To laugh away the madness.
To laugh away that useless pain.
He'd sit and play the fiddle,
to the cows and to the moon.
He'd play the whistle to the stars,
then raise his head long after noon.
I remember once he told me,
"Kid remember this!,
the ones that you have hurt the most
will be the ones your gonna miss!,
Never dwell in anger
never fold or bow to pain.
Take this from a black sheep
the one they think
is lost,
insane."

It happened in the blink
of a weary old eye.
The flutter of an admirals wings.
It was never remembered,
but never to die.
Like rain that falls
to the grace of the sea.

It was when he took shore leave in Java.
Under tropical skies and thunderous clouds.
When the Devil brushed passed his shoulder,
then melted away back into the crowd.

He knew he'd been touched by evil.
As the hairs on his neck stood like soldiers in line.
Ready for their execution.
Ready for their turn to return to light.
And as he stood there frozen,
not sure where to turn, not sure what to do.
A whisper he heard beside him,
"Cursed young soul, I have something for you."

"Your path has been crossed by dark forces,
yes darker than night and blacker than coal.
But I have always been waiting,
to show you the light, to deliver your soul."

"There's been times in your life when you've faltered.
I'm not here to judge, as every man falls.
But this is when evil tries alter,
all our desires, our one true call.
It sows the seeds of doubt and fear,
and mixes it with hate.
But now's the time to listen child,
for this is not your fate."

"Now's the time to listen child,
before now is too late."

Scrolling,
up and down the page.
An old soul,
from a different age.
A soul,
with memories of fields.
A place.
Without a place to be.

Underneath the sky each night.
All the love
and all the fights.
Never captured by the lens.
Never needing to pretend.

The freedom, that we took for granted.
Lost, with all the hope
we planted.
In the future
and the world.....
Bring me back to 94.

The mist lifts slowly,
like the darkness outside.
Light then returns,
bringing sight to the eyes.
The flow of the Liffey,
calm like the breeze.
That runs with my thoughts,
out into the sea.
Into the bay,
out past Howth Head.
Thinking of people,
some breathing, some dead.
The heroes, the villains,
the loved and the scorned.
In Dublin city,
all have been born.
In Dublin's fair city.
Alive, alive-O!

This world is full of angels
full of devils in disguise.
Like gargoyles faces on the wall,
blending in before our eyes.
The Christmas traffic,
shuffling past...
Young ones clutch their oul ones hands.
Oblivious, to the worlds strange ways.
Lost angels in a broken land.
And the poor ****** on the corner sings,
about a policeman from New York.
A song probably older than his mother
I'm hoping they still have each other.
I'm hoping that his words fall easy.
Gently,
upon her ears.
Cause he's looking kinda lonely now,
Maybe no ones listening!

The pyramids inside those dreams.
Rays of light reached to the sky.
The constellations all stood still,
As she kindly whispered why!
"All the devastation,
all the endless cause of pain.
It's sown into the fabric,
the karmic light that we obtain.
Written by our own sweet souls,
so many moons ago.
It's everything that we must be,
and all we'll ever need to know".

They'd call her Long Gone Sally.
A lost ship, that has long since sailed.
They knew she had a heart of gold,
but still they'd tease
they'd cause her pain.
Yet still she'd face the darkness.
A lighthouse on a lonely chair.
Something you could focus on,
something, that is always there.
The loneliness
The sorrow.
The way we try to stem the tears.
All written on her ageing face.
A face well weathered from the tears.
Poor old Long Gone Sally,
will she ever really find?
The love that melted everything,
the love that breaks,
the heart,
the mind.

Her voice it reaches into me,
hooks me like a desperate fish.
She's singing songs of Ireland,
such a saucy creamy dish.

Seafood chowder by the sea,
a sense of you, a sense of me.
All the things we're gonna see,
everything we're gonna be

Out the window, rolling waves,
rolling round upon the floor.
Her mind is like a hidden cave,
leaves me craving, wanting more.

The wind, the rain,
our twisted brains.
The way she moves,
the way she sways.
Lost within Octobers days.
Lost with every word we say.

A million shovel fulls of sand,
and this is not the life I'd planned.
Yet every raindrop on my head
Reminds me of the way things play.
The way somebody's point of view,
leads us down a different road.
The way life teaches something new,
from the cradle to the grave.

A million shovel fulls of sand,
plucked from Dublins sacred soil.
Reminds me of a distant past.
Reminds me of a different age.
The cobble stones.
The memories.
Lost amongst it all.
The raindrops that fell upon my head,
have been the ones
that made me strong.

He sat upon the fading light,
sat searching for the stars.
Sat amongst the riverbed,
in disbelief he's got this far.
The ship it missed it's harbour,
lies broken on the stones,
He's searching for a memory
  upon the corals bones.
Crying for old comrades,
the stupid and the brave
he takes a breath for every soul,
lost upon the waves.

Throw a kiss upon the wind.
On every fear
and every sin.

A smile,
up to the distant stars.
To everything
that seems so far.

To all the old souls
shining there.
To every reason
why you care.

Throw a kiss upon the wind.
Her whistling lips,
and all she sings.

High above the bubbling crowd,
the merchants,
privileged,
and crown.
Laughing at the fighting crowds.
Underneath their poison shroud.

High above the city square,
the people
all the ones that care.
They're laughing,
as we try to fight.
**** each other
every night.

Pandora's Box is out of hope.
Empty like a broken vessel.
Washed up on the shores of pain.
Red rust from the lapping waves.
  Silent are the murmurs.
Silent is the voice of man.
As Heavens flames return to light.
Hell's fire cremates all it can.

The steam lifts off the concrete floor
and paradise ain't here no more.
It set sail on a cargo ship
On a never ending trip.

It's out there, near the Bay of Pigs
lost between the reels and jigs.
On its way to distant shores.
Paradise ain't here no more.

Somewhere near the Southern Tip,
It's heard it let its secrets slip,
to a drunkard on the floor,
and paradise ain't here no more.

Lost forever to the stars.
Paradise has gone to far.
Through the clouds, an open door.
Now paradise ain't here no more.

Autumns leaves fell heavy,
like the weight that fell upon your soul.
And I'm so sorry for you,
so sorry that I didn't know.
Words we shared together,
always looking, searching for that peace.
Something that's so hard to find,
I hope you have it now at least.

And all those words you left us,
your train of thought,
forever there.
The honesty within them,
will shine my friend,
forever there.

That honesty within you
  shines forever
with how you cared.





"Gonna miss ye buddy
You were a true light"
"God bless you and little Anais,
you'll be in my thoughts"

#forsusie

An angel
that came forth to live,
Every hardship life could give.
Sleeping in the meadows haze,
she'd fall into her mind,
The Maze.

A trail of blood,
through corridors.
She tries to open every door.
Yet each are locked,
and there's no key.
She's searching for somewhere to be.

A tattoo on her little toe,
Brings her back
to brighter days.
Reminds of her of so long ago.
Before she got lost
in The Maze.

An angel
with a journeyed soul.
The hands of time
could never own.
She's lost now.
Waiting,
to be found.
An old soul
from a different land.

The Spanish navy strong enough,
maybe too strong for their worth.
Led with the cross and then the sword.
Never questioning their Lord.

The infantry, the Tudor reign,
grabbing at what's there to gain,
As history repeats itself,
living as a helpless serf.

The Tribesman who once conquered all,
dying with the lions roar.
As history repeats itself,
nothing ever making sense.

The Christians, Jews,
Muslims, all,
each one shall forever fall.
Upon their blades,
those raised in hate,
Each one to their own sweet faith.

The buzzing lights,
Christmas lanterns.
Soul upon soul,
upon soul,
upon soul.
Passing each other ,
each one,
our own flight.
Soul upon soul,
upon soul,
upon soul.
The phantoms,
the cold,
the love in the lamplight.
Soul upon soul,
upon soul,
upon soul.
Those reasons for giving,
the love in the lamplight.
Souls holding souls,
holding souls,
holding souls.

An island, off an island.
Water,
puddles,
mist and rain.
The vast expanding ocean,
the one that carried you away.
Walking from the parlour,
looking out across the fields.
I wonder what your doing now,
I always wonder how you feel.
I know,
we knew,
what's for the best,
yet sorrow never hides.
I often look upon the waves,
upon the changing tides,
I see your face in everything,
your teardrops are the rain.
Remembering that final day,
I live it everyday.

That mist on the Mississippi,
lay heavy,
like those angels tears.
That brought a flood of silence
whispers falling on deaf ears.
People being trodden on,
like pebbles on the strand.
The poor old Mississippi.
A slave,
just like all those men.
Working, ladden on the barges,
the steamboats and the trains.
All for one
and none for all,
seems to be the way.
There's 99% out there,
just waiting for their day,
yet still that 1%, it seems
always get their way.
All the sweat, the blood,
the tears, shed down through the ages.
Can't be found in old books bound,
their history or fables.
That history, which the victor writes
on those blood stained pages.
Make us grateful,
for this life,
grateful for these wages.

99% My friends,
surely we are Able?..........................

Chapters.
Each one,
with their place in time.
The way things can be turbulent.
Then with time,
they end up fine.
The way we seem to carry on.
A different chapter,
different song.
How many chapters
have we left?
Before we know
that we're not wrong.

Four tired feet, resting at last.
The old work shoes,
thankfully cast.
Beside the couch,
where now they rest.
A weary head upon her breast.

Silence,
sharing,
just their breathing.
Two souls swimming,
two souls dreaming.
Like a Buddha
neath a willow.
Each ones heart
just like a pillow.

And as each breath
rises and falls.
Candle wax spills on the wall.
  Seconds...
minutes...
fade away.
Tomorrow is another day.

Some leaves fall before their time,
others falling with this rhyme.
Synchronized inside my mind,
everything at one with time.

The breeze which sweeps the forest floor,
the will, the want, the joy of more.
The knowing, that what's right will lead,
to everything we really need.

Like the seasons, passing on.
Each with reason.
Each with song.
Words lost with the fading light,
as me and you walk through the night.

The new year started coldly,
two pairs of socks upon my feet.
The ground,
frozen and solid.
Like the bones that lie beneath.
Reflections that wont go away.
High in the sky,
the winters sun.
Shining without much to say.
Yet still it shines for everyone.
And all the birds have gone away,
spread their wings,
migrated south.
And as the words form on my lips,
they stumble as the leave my mouth.

We fell over each other,
a thousand stars fell from the sky.
On the road
to God knows,
we stumbled down the mountain side.

Although the glass was empty,
the bottle, it was always full.
We fought and danced with gypsies.
Sang songs with the Raging Bull.

Then we reached the shoreline.
Fires burning on the sand.
Mingled with the people,
took the air down by the strand.

The Fair, it starts tomorrow,
I wonder will she reappear.
She left the last time, with the morn,
hard to think it's been a year.

A wandering soul,
upon the rocks.
The Oceans
never ending churning.
Seaweed, cast upon the stone.
Cast with thought
and constant yearning.
Once upon a lullaby.
At least a thousand years before.
A desperate secret
once was buried.
Underneath the soil and stone.
Where the dunes
begin to falter.
Where the sands
and forest meet.
Treasure buried in the long grass
hidden from the passing feet
Gold and Diamonds,
Sacred Sculptures.
Scriptures of an ancient tongue.
Hidden underneath the long grass,
lost beneath the burning sun.

The bold and the good
all under the sun.
All singing as one,
in Wallaby Woods.
The moonlight above,
the mist and the rain.
Some singing for love,
some singing for pain.
Searching for stars,
forgotten to time..
The moonlight above
The rhythm and rhyme.
The bold and the good,
waiting for the sun.
All singing as one,
in Wallaby Woods.

An ode to my sweet *****,
the grace beneath each step she takes.
She's like the sun that lights the day,
A swan upon a sacred lake.
Her eyes illuminate
the night.
Shining with the silver moon.
She's there with every
breath I take.
The melody in every tune.

The Queen of hope,
the knotted rope.
That brought her to the grave.

The hangman's smile,
a thousand miles.
Since he was a slave.

The King of doom,
a lonely room.
Once the winning knave.

The way the shore,
will look for more.
Kidnapping the waves.

The wake up call
rang steadily,
throughout the desperate morn.
The pilgrims and the prophets cried
as we were all reborn.
The temple walls collapsing,
upon the hollow mount.
Bodies strewn across the land,
too many now to count.
The serpent went a running,
they say he's hiding in the sand.
His days were always numbered,
his evil ways always to grand.
No doubt he will return someday,
to test the will of man.
See that old serpent never dies,
for he's part of the plan.

The slowdown
and The fading through.
Another year.
Here's me and you.
Our Tribe,
beneath
the burning Sun.
Beneath the star's
like everyone.
All the corners of the world,
So many tongues
So many words.
Lost
All under the same sky.
A thousand
million
reasons why.