Blue the mountains
holding close in view
sacred smoke of yesterdays
blue fog shrouded trails
beneath the rhododendron

falls of sweet blue water
replenishing the rivers
sapphire lakes reflecting
splendor of the bluest hills
above the peaceful valley

hear the sacred music
of the blue ridge mountains
magic in the songs of old
forever blue my appalachia
blue the hills I used to roam.

r ~ 7/4/14

I don't know why I'm feelin' the way I'm feelin'
Could be 'cuz of all the bullish with what I'm dealin'
I need healin'
And the promise of a new beginin'...

I'm in need of much
Yet still, I have much to give
Even without the promise to 'life give'
...Maybe I can't even have kids...

I hurt and I love
I give and I receive
I devote what I have
But there are things that I need....

I'm sure and uncertain
Confident yet nervous
I seek my passion
But don't know my purpose...

I feel worthless
But worthy all at the same time
Wonderin' what the **** is going on
Can't explain the crazy ramblings in my mind...

I want to tell the world
But I can't tell a soul
So I dream these crazy things
And to the world I grow cold...

its all *******, really...

Golden shimmers
Bright lights
The finer things in life
Waves crashing
Thoughts mashing
Finding out the unknown
Artist adventures
Musical excavations
Silver stars
Forever scars
Choosing your path
Mistakes made
Forgiving gaze
Monumental discovers
Shooting guns
Bright burning sun
Death of friend
Holding on til the end

a railway station with just
three people in it
and you just
walked by
through

one
alone
in bed
with nobody
but you, why
is your breathing
so quiet? please.
and if you want to
then stand up to
walk out and
leave and
return
seeing slow
and pardoning
the bareness of
a new and very red
sunrise

sometimes
I watch it &
I wish you were
dead. but then it
comes up all the
way and I know
that I'm the one
I wish was dead.
and washed back down
to those dead ones
to sit and wait
and whittle my
patience down
so far as
here

I patrol in my backyard
Cruising im my pedal car
I can see the Joker
Well, it's really a toy clown
Locked safely away in the toy shed

I am looking for Two Face
A teddybear that my dog ripped
So my Mum sewed up his face
But now he is out there, free
I must track him down

I search for him in the kitchen
There I spot the Scarecrow
It is a puppet, long and thin
I must stop in my search now
So I can tackle with my foe

I put the Scarecrow behind bars
My search continues, relentless
I see Two Face hiding in the lounge
I now creep up, slowly behind him
I pounce, the battle is long, but I win

That scarred teddybear is put away
Where he won't harm anymore toys
My Batcave awaits, up in my bedroom
I am sleepy, my eyes are feeling tired
I am Batman, even I must sleep

Breathing fire, from below,
Spitting a molten soul skywards,
Flinging pumice, ash, and fear,
The angry Vulcan casts,  
His ever darkening shadow cross,
As the timely reminder , of
The fragility of this existence.

© Nick Strong 2014

There was a Truth
in murk-settled water.
I'll sit at the surface
and remember past wrongs.

Stirred lake was below us,
the eels and a catfish,
but towered above
the sun shone down warm.

A dead masquerade,
you kicked for the surface.
Your body, it rippled
a silhouetted sky.

Dead hum underwater
our eyelids were liquid.
My jellyfish back
absorbed the tanned rays.

Ingest your diffraction,
a hunger astray.
A dry-land discov'ry:
it was my legs aflame.

The murk was in you.
The murk was in you.
Dear God, I was clean.
Dear God, I was clean.

A seat at the table
to pray for the lake.
But what does it matter?
Wash my hands to eat.

I have hungered to be filled,
satiated down to the very fiber of
my being.

Am I crazy to crave food with such
carnal intensity?  Expecting chocolate
sugary goodness to satisfy the soul's
hunger underneath my physical craving.

But not everything has to be about God,
does it?  Sometimes, I just want to savor
the rich decadence of dark chocolate mingled
the burning fire of a chili pepper.

Am I coveting?  Am I being sinful to be too
material and sensual?  ******* it!  I bet
God loves taking a slow bite of chocolate.

I keep dividing the world into
material and spiritual.  
Maybe that's why I'm so hungry?

spores! spores!
fluttering demon spawn everywhere!
fluffy white bleached miniscule chimney sweep umbrellas
cascading down like so many newly born spiders
on their silky web shoots
coming over the hill and roof to attack
traversing miles to my nose
which weeps
in sneezes so magnificent
they'd frighten off an elephant

I tell you, for every reproductive winged plant seedling I will counter with fifteen crumpled white tissues

evil evil pollen, the curse, the allergy, which trapped me in the castle in my youth, on many a lovely spring day

a perfect half hour drive
with a perfect sunset keeping me high
and a perfect soundtrack buzzing
in my perfect battered car
down a perfect country lane
lined with green waves
and soft bluebells
smudging the hard lines of winter away
the air is still cold
but this evening is too perfect
to notice
or care
and i realise i have been driving
with a smile greeting stranger's stares.