mark-williams
English
Have lived in England all my life - a life which only really began at the age of 34...so much has happened since then that I feel really lucky...the poem 'The Hill of Dreams' is dedicated to Mia of San Francisco - a lady so special that I don't really have the words to describe her...I hope to post a few more excerpts from the poem soon - and will of course be perusing poems from everyone else who contributes here :)
...And all that we love
And all that they hate;
The things they destroy
And the things we create.
And all that we see,
Smell, touch, taste and hear;
The things we embrace
Are the things that they fear.
And all that is wrong,
And all that is right;
The wars that they make;
Our refusal to fight.
The lies that they sell;
The love that we give;
The message we send
So that everyone can live.
And all that’s to come,
And all that is past;
The sun is obscured
But the shadow won’t last,
For the future’s secure
And the world is in tune;
The future is sure
When the sun is no longer
Eclipsed by the moon...
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 5:29 PM UTC
Us – and them...
In war or peace,
We’re only ordinary men.
Us – and them...
Love’s rose will bloom,
Or else lie broken on the stem.
You – and me...
We walk in chains,
Or choose the path that sets us free.
You – and me...
Have one last chance
To make the world as it should be.
“Forward!” the generals cry from the rear
And the soldiers proceed;
Killing and dying in no-man’s land
For corporate greed.
Up – and down...
While people starve,
The arguments go round
And round and round
And round...
Fear – and doubt...
And in the end,
That’s what the fighting’s all about.
Rich – and poor...
Link hands and say
That this can’t happen anymore.
Let’s cut it down to a battle of words
And then understand;
The truth will survive and we’ll all stay alive,
It’s in our hands...
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 6:00 PM UTC
An old year was fading; and, as the time drew near
To celebrate the passing of a thousand years,
The world grew thoughtful; and the governments decreed
A festival of love for the devout and the sincere,
In which no thought, and no expense, indeed,
Be spared on marking so momentous an occasion;
And nothing was required in the matter of persuasion,
For, to these plans, the people readily agreed.
* * * * * * * * * *
A great enthusiasm fired the multitude,
And wealth was lavished freely for that day of days.
Brass coin converted into banners and bouquets;
On cloth and candle, showers of silver spent;
Vast sums of gold discharged on fireworks and food,
And greater sums discharged on wine for all.
Music and verse set down, bright blooms arrayed,
Felicitations forwarded, and invitations sent.
And later, as that sacred eve began to fall,
Loved one met with loved one, as had been arranged;
Greetings and platitudes and kisses were exchanged,
The wine flowed, and the people were content.
* * * * * * * * * *
As midnight fell, the towns and cities roared
In testimony of their faith and love.
Church bells rang joyously, and rockets soared
To vie in transient splendour with the stars above.
And many a heartfelt prayer to heaven was raised;
‘Allah is merciful!’, the people cried.
‘Love is to all of us!’, ‘The Lord be praised!’,
But then; ‘One nation under God!’, they lied.
* * * * * * * * * *
For, beyond those charmed circles of love and light
Were others, huddled miserably in outland places.
The outcast, the untouchable, the dispossessed;
The starving and pitiful, who turned their faces
Toward the joy of those whom God had blessed.
They saw the fireworks illuminate the night,
And blaze a cruel message of betrayal across the sky.
A tale of blind hypocrisy and thoughtlessness;
Of fortunes squandered in the blinking of an eye.
The distant bells chimed faintly as the rockets flew;
The poor looked on, and some died, even as they stared.
And, as life dimmed and mercy came to them, they knew
The true extent to which their brothers cared...
* * * * * * * * * *
A new year was blooming; and, as night turned to day,
The world turned heedless on its outworn way;
In dawn’s first brightness, the first shell screamed
A song of hate to those who dwelt in Palestine.
Bodies were dismembered, and blood flowed like wine;
The dead were known only by the clothes they wore.
And those who dreamed of peace a little time before
Awoke, and realised that they had but dreamed.
And soon, they saw the sight of refugees in flood;
Screaming for mercy as the bombs rained down.
While, over many a shattered city and a town,
Aurora’s hands adorned the sky with blood.
The world caught fire, and the streets ran red;
Hell visited on earth as nation fought with nation.
And all, by way of fervent oath and imprecation
Called out on the Almighty to avenge their dead.
Ah brothers! There would be no answer to your call;
For, in seeing the crimes committed in their name,
The Lords of Heaven but bowed their heads in shame;
A thousand years had passed, and nothing changed at all.
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 4:58 PM UTC
And once, amid the drear, dark wasteland of the night,
I met you on the Hill of Dreams; towards the hour
When long, mysterious shadows, and the folding flower
Call home the day, and bring the evening star to sight.
And there, alone, we saw a sky that burned
With the dragon’s-blood of sunset, with a beauty unsurpassed
That seared the sight, until it fell to ash at last.
And then, in the first faint radiance of the moon, I turned
To hold and kiss you, and to swear my love once more,
And look out upon the sleeping city far below.
To sense infinity around us, and to know
Such depths of love as I had never known before.
Sublime, divine and radiant Princess of Desire,
You are my dream within a dream, the one fair prize
Of life that I would cherish; in your depthless eyes,
I see the bright reflection of my love for you.
And, may it shine forever, clear and true;
Beyond that time when life itself expires.
In this, and other lives to come, our paths will meet.
And in the circle of your love, I am complete.
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
When I dream, I dream of you alone;
Perhaps in some far-distant, time-forgotten place
That once existed in the days of youth.
And there, some dim, faint memory of the mind
Is stirred, as waters rise before the wind.
And here, adrift from life in realms unknown,
I see the incandescent beauty of your face.
I draw you to me, and I know the truth;
The past means nothing, for in your eyes, I see
The future only, and all else is lost to me.
* * * * * * * * *
Farewell to tortured hope, to misery and doubt;
The vow I made to you, I kept throughout
The dark, disastrous years of desolation.
Mourn not for days that lie beyond recall;
For hours withheld from us, no tear should fall
To blur the joy of love’s sweet affirmation.
The time Fate stole from us was not in vain;
For, now that your heart is joined with mine again,
We find the very reason for our own existence.
At last, we see that Faith’s reward is shown;
And know, as other dreamers well have known,
Love triumphs by the reason of its own persistence.
* * * * * * * * *
Our time draws near now, and my love, we find
The paradise we made here must be left behind.
All that we take with us are memories;
The flame of life expires, the clock unwinds.
Now we unravel, and with dying eyes, we see
That to perish miserably accords with life’s decree.
The mind must falter, and the flesh must die,
And turn to dust beneath an angel carved in stone,
So that the soul may rise unfettered to the sky
To seek some wondrous Eden of its own.
And swiftly, through beckoning, bright infinity,
We soar on wings of light toward our destiny.
* * * * * * * * *
And surely, somewhere amid the vastness
Of the universe, we find our place and time.
So dear one, come to me, and let my fingers trace
With love, the sweet perfection of your face.
And know that, in this simple act of mine,
I reaffirm my vow in all its fastness.
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
The sailor’s hand is guided by the star;
Fair islands rise in morning’s early gleam;
A breeze stirs, and there flow, as in a dream,
Sweet fragrances of terebinth and cinnabar.
The waves caress the strand in tides of green,
While inland light reveals the path towards
The solitude of primal upland swards
Where gorgeous nenuphars may bloom unseen
Dark shadows lie on towering mountain walls,
And dying sunlight filters through the land,
To stream on towers reared by unknown hands
Where lovers make their vow as evening falls.
The fading sun may set the stars in flight;
The stars, a woven tapestry of love perfect;
The moon an antique city resurrect,
Or turn a desert to a garden of delight.
Brief days of hope dull separation’s pain,
And glamour to the distant dream impart.
But years alone erode the constant heart
That blindly seeks its destiny in vain.
Despair can make a desert of the mind;
An outland sun torment and sear and blind;
The moon disclose a wasteland of the night
And stars a secret tragedy unbind.
The tide-surge shatters on the barren shore;
Vast clouds obliterate the dying sun;
Colossal chains of livid lightning run
And mournful winds monotonously roar
Through bleak, deserted glades; my feet now tread
Where stricken trees arch darkly overhead
And claw the sky with fingers black and dead;
The endless road lies empty as before...
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 6:52 PM UTC
There is a magic in the midnight sky;
In tinted arctic dawns that gild the snow;
In golden, sunlit jungles of Khitai;
The glory of a Persian sunset’s afterglow;
In the aurora’s weird, unearthly light,
Where stars are eyes obscured behind a veil
Of dancing amethyst and malachite;
The vivid transience of the meteor’s trail;
The silence of a ruined city of the waste;
Moonrise that dapples the deserted plain;
A solitary island by wild seas embraced;
By blind, perpetual tides that surge and race
To thunder on the skyward-reaching shore in vain;
In trackless forest; in high peaks cloaked in a shroud
Of evening mist; in galleon-sails of summer cloud;
In all the endless beauty that this world contains...
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 6:25 PM UTC