Tonight I feel her presence,
She heeds to the heartbeats call,
the candle light flickers with her breath,
The room chills in a balm of delight,
She is in the moonbeams that dance in cadence across the shadows of my room,
Her whispers ride the gentle wind outside,
I reach to touch her but there is nothing there,
only the tears that herald slumbers cruel jest,
All has been nothing but a dream.

© H V Swan

When the rain falls we see it’s beauty, we feel its warmth,
the sound it makes soothes our soul and we sink in to its sanctuary,
yet in transition when the storm strikes,  its mantel becomes dark and forbidding, its spirit reaps destruction and ice like shards cut us to the bone.
Rain will fall, but in the scape of our night sky do we dare to call on its name ?.

Oh spirit rider where have you been ?
longing for your embrace but never seen,
come ride my soul with consummate ease
tease me with your breath a contagious disease
I long now to feel your immortal embrace
to see the moonlight in your face
the soothing tones of your words
soaring higher than all the birds
take me now to your dark retreat
to stand before the judgement seat,
let me tell of your ethereal tales
how you opened my eyes and removed the scales.

I draw the curtains like drawing clouds across a sunny day,
enjoying the stillness and clarity of a darkened room,
laying on the bed next to my soul,
whispering secrets of journeys into barren lands,
my old friend has fought in many wars,
tasted victories and lamented loss,
pleaded to end the pilgrims march,
but my old friend there is work to be done,
one more toast to raise our glasses to,
incumbent pleasures for us to keep,
then my friend we'll find eternal sleep.

As the weary years of age catch up with me,
so do I realise that life is nothing but a series of changes,
things have a begining, things have an end,
people come and go, sprout up like shoots in a garden,
then slowly wither away, as though never there,
tears fall, laughter resounds, happiness then sadness,
nothing we ever say or think or do can last forever,
loves, losses, pain, hope, dispair,
the very foundations of life change before us,
unfurling as the spring flowers,
their memory fading as the changing seasons,
so in all of this take no thought for tomorrow,
neither let the past chain you to memories,
live for this moment, it is the only thing that remains resolute.

When we view our world through a tear,
it becomes distorted, blurred
and imprisoned within itself,
yet we have only to stretch forth a hand,
to let it permeate the glass-like walls,
allowing us to glimpse beyond its boundaries,
the clear, pure waters that lay on the other side,
regaining our clarity of vision and releasing the soul,
if only for the briefest of moments.

Whilst all around, our cares we tend,
a sheaf of corn catches glinting eye,
no yoke to bear, no toil and strife,
a golden prize is there to take,
dark skies above, a listless wind,
two dogs bark with tales to tell,
a distant train pulls iron and steel,
little belly starts to twitch, a yawn, a scratch,
a nose to sniff,
a thousand years is fuel indeed,
for spindle legs to run the course,
over twigs and stones, the gauntlet thrown,
a heavenly morsel to be found,
Through the window a furrowed brow,
sleep must mask the answers sought,
farmer pens his sums with haste,
whilst out in the field the conqueror spoils,
snug and warm, content and fed.

As the emptiness cloaks you in robes of loneliness and you sit in the dark, rocking back and forth to the beat of your own heart, its rhythm filling your ears like a distant midnight train clattering over tracks of pain, do you pray to your God ?
Sobbing out tears that shudder through your core as you stare out of the window into some distant world, memories coiling themselves around your soul like the spirit of some ancient snake, is it then that you pray to your God ?

Searching for you but your never around,
looking for release but it's not easily found,
bottles all empty,  I’m running on air,
smoke after smoke, my lungs want to tear,
need some kind of redemption,  it’s time to leave,
make a fresh start some sort of reprieve,
but everywhere I look is just a chapter in a book,
and as each page gets turned another bridge is burned.


© H V Swan

Pulmonary arrest
its the acid test
open the cage
release the rage
embrace the pain
plenty to gain
sensory deprivation
all the anticipation
engulfed in flames
by your ill gotten gains.

All we could ever hope to have been is uncoiled before us like a python caught in the mid day sun,
laid bare, a naked shame for all to see,
yet in all of this we bask in the warmth of our discovery,
sanctified in our own existence,
parity of the soul and all deeds are done.


© H V Swan

When the heart joins that of another
it does not see the hands of the clock,
neither counts the days or the months,
lost in its search for sanctuary and peace,
the heart only knows where it is meant to be
and where it will forever remain.

With a tobacco pouch in hand
one might contemplate a new world order
or maybe a cup of coffee,
life through the haze of a smokers delight
might seem a little contrite
recalled in slumber, passions to ignite.
misty haze to hide the sun,
into the darkness when slumbers run.

When you reach that point
but the point is sharp.

Insidious puppets, dancing on strings,
acting out my favorite things.

We are podcasts
reflections of the past
daily lifes for all to see
recorded open vanity
of love and life
and trouble and strife
all the daily highs and lows
the episodic side shows
thrills and spills all the way
what are you going to do today ?

The beauty of a lovers voice,
how it soothes the tardy soul,
warming the coldness of breath,
parching its receptors thirst,
she moves within me,
reaching the farthest corners,
if I could but hold her there,
for a thousand eternities,  
yet a captive she is not,
I listen to her enchanted music,
behold the delicate petals of her beauty,
as the most fragrant springtime flower,
I listen with joy to her beautiful song,
feel the softness of her fragile skin,
she keeps me safe in the witching hour,
healing this pain, making me whole.

Is it pain we feel when we gaze upon a summer’s moon ?,
I hear her gentle whispers,
Feel her touch in the soothing summer breeze,
She surrounds me, consuming me,
Her tears lap up to my toes, on an empty beach,
Longing to embrace her soul within my own,
hands on a clock that remain still, never to move,
just as the moonlight fades with the rising sun, she disappears.

© H V Swan

You navigate my soul as a mariner to the waves,
knowing when the storms are on the horizon,
when the winds beat down and tear it asunder
only you can fathom the safety of hidden shores,
at the helm you grasp my hand and steer us to land,
to the warmth of souls entwining and becoming as one,
no sirens here to cast us asunder on the rocks,
only the perfect beauty in the paleness of skin,
the purest pools contained within your eyes,
the softness of whispers within your voice,
soothing all these tempestuous seas,
as the mists of time swirl through this moonlit night,
gathering me in and carrying me forth,
so forever yours shall I remain,
all eternity awaits as we sail this ship afar.

A mothers embrace teaches you so many things,
security and protection,
warmth and comfort,
softness and sobriety,
yet among these feelings
comes a sense of strength,
a timeless intuition,
her strength is inherent,
it comes forth from the innermost secrets of nature,
it always felt as though it was limitless,
even now that the hair is grey,
and her beauty long since diminished with age,
I still feel it all.

I belong to another,
one who cannot be mentioned,
her name blows through the highest of roof tops and tallest of trees,
she whispers soft delights that resonate through my soul,
healing my wounds, making me whole,
her radiance brings the gladdest of tidings to this weary heart.

I thought I knew what love was
should have looked the other way
but how you were under that blood red moon
caught my eyes like this pain never could,
now I stare at that moon
forever wondering if you see it too,
plucking strings on my guitar,
its melancholy tones call out your name,
hope you can hear it and ****** a quiet tear,
knowing that one day, once more,
we will dance to its sad refrain.

He played a blinder,
left her standing in the pouring rain,
He played it straight,
straight out of a well thumbed book,
He played the fool,
fool always rhymed with cool,
He played into her arms,
arms now cold from the chill of night,
He played it red,
red for the colour of her bed,
He played like he cared,
cared for the notes crumpled in his pocket,
He played his cards,
cards that made her tear her soul,
He plays a song
a song for her departure from this world.

Look into my eyes and what do you see ?
a soul, raging, whirling, trying to break free ?
or the tranquillity and tepidness of a sea at night ?
for you my love can see into the deep,
simple and naked as a child in sleep,
you see the ships that set sail for foreign lands,
to hidden treasure no one else understands,
you see the hands of the clock and all the pain,
the dark grey skies and the pouring rain,
the landscape of my heart and how it pleads,
to search your soul for what if needs,
sanctuary for what you will become,
under the warmth of my morning sun,
you can have it all if you could only see,
how it's only you that can set me free.

Full to the brim with the coffers of iniquity,
yet thirsting for the riches of enchantment,
too many cheques written to be honoured,
debts due to be recovered at my behest,
I've sailed the seas of temptations tides,
melted my wings in the heat of the sun,
longed for the fulfilment of an honest wage,
would that I could indulge in coffee shop chat,
put all to rights over an intellectual cigarette,
yet here I am, morally broke,
no words in coins left in my bank,
to dream of dreams I now must rest.

Stripped bare what are we ?
static electricity ?
impulses of energy ?
no, we are souls loose in a baron land,
wandering hermits tightly packed in shells,
memories, thoughts, feelings emotions,
all strung together in an ethereal corpse,
passed on like an Olympic torch,
after the shell has expired,
picked up by the next runner.
What defines you my friend ?
seek the answers in your weary dreams,
there you shall find your sanctuary.

This soul will forever wander,
like the mist around an ancient shipwreck,
seeking a peace that never comes,
drowning in a million tears,
lost in the eternal.

Here in the darkest recesses of this hallowed ground,
do I sit in my shredded clothes lamenting my soul,
what trickery is this that my spirit should spout forth such a distasteful drone,
welcome one and all says the banner of my grimace,
let me show you some wonders to behold,
such cordial tales in this darkest of catacombs ,
come feast on these bleached bones,
oh retched man am I,
set aside all thoughts for the morrow,
for here is my curtain call,
hanging from the hands of a faceless clock.

What is it that we seek from a woman or a man ?
is it the true reflection of ourselves ?
could it be that we fear what we see alone in the dark ?
or the breath of awakening that floods our lungs ?
we have become weak, shadows afraid of the light
it gnaws at our bones, the burning desires of the soul,
always searching, ignoring what is contained within,
we shun the image that we see in the dark mirror,
we cannot bring ourselves to decipher its shape,
the keys are already hanging around our necks,
yet we fumble, searching for them in others,
trust in the riches that are contained in the chest,
take no thought or yearning for things we do not need,
take comfort from what we are, inside the shell.

Throw your soul down a wishing well,
so many lies in this kiss and tell,
black moon rising can you see,
only the darkness can set you free,
surrender it all and hear my call,
no one there to catch your fall,
casting shadows on all you hold dear,
look into my eyes and feel the fear.

Ice cold, staring through a window,
the warmth of a summers day, ebbs and flows outside,
time slips through my fingers like grains of sand,
constructing plans and futures,
fiction that fades into shadows ,
dreams that mingle with the dust in my room,
In resignation, I let the old ghosts ride my soul.

© H V Swan

Tip toeing through the shards of darkness,
ever searching for the surety of solid objects,
creeping souls within decaying bodies,
reality is what we seek in a glimpse of transient sleep,
lies and slumber,
the antiquity of numbers,
naked bones swimming in a sea of obscurity,
nothing really matters
as the last grains of sand trickle through the glass phial,
stone pillows await our weary heads.

Your ambiguity won’t get you seen,
Us retrospect’s know how to do it clean,
Word men and bird men are exactly the same,
Acting out fantasies and playing the game,

Dichotic words you write of life,
of unrequited love and strife,
from teenage angst to aged woe,
you think your words will steal the show,

Dig a little deeper and you’ll surely see,
your arrogant swagger is not for me,
for I can see from behind your quill,
the Idiosyncratic, tedious swill.

Rain falls on the just and the unjust,
roses grow on good and bad dirt,
weeds resemble flowers,
flowers resemble weeds,
good words flow from bad mouths,
bad words flow from the good,
the Devil looks at the same clock as God,
imperfection stems from perfection,
bitterness from the sweet,
the blind see with the ears,
the deaf hear with the eyes,
Pain is the same for all, universal.

Walking through autumns tears,
stooping to pick up leaves,
throwing them up in the air,
watching them fall through glinting sunlight,
holding hands, allowing our eyes to meet,
love dwelling within our souls,
no shame felt here,
this our everlasting afternoon,
but then the sky greys over,
everything turns cold,
you were never really there,
gone in a heartbeat.

© H V Swan

We see the bright artificial light,
the plastic, multi coloured packaging,
attraction is the unification of what we crave
and the imprint of past experience,
sipping at love as if to quench an irrepressible thirst
but find our mouths dry and tongue cleaving,
we point the wand at what we desire
yet the real magic lays within our own soul.

Walls torn down,
feel the rawness of new skin,
born again,
this time into love,
pure in its form,
beautiful in its language,
recognised and spoken,
soul in soul,
hand in hand,
all is understood,
silence no longer solemn,
creation dwells within,
sleep no longer is sleep,
awake, awaken to a new dawn,
a new life.

drink the potion.
savour its taste,
exquisit to the last,
the elixir of life,
half a six pence,
a mouth full of rye,
kiss all the big girls,
make them cry,
I'll swap you some ill gotten gains,
take away all of your pains
rancid acid on the buds of your tongue
re write the script,
right all the intangible wrong.

The putrid smell of others hate,
fills my lungs in a heinous state,
what words can do to the fragile soul,
the spirit colour as black as coal,
drink it all up at the chime of night,
blinded by this hideous sight,
emotion tips the balanced scale,
too much said for the ship to sail,
so now I must repent in haste,
relinquish this most bitter taste.
calm the waters of raging pride,
swim to the safety of the other side.

Ships that sail into distant unknown oceans,
sunsets that shine on summer lawns,
water that glistens on a frosty morn,
flowers that unfurl in the springtime breeze,
darkest of gems that cannot be fathomed,
black mirrors of a fortune tellers wares,
flickering candles on a moonlit night,
shadows that move across a darkened room,
moon beams dancing across a hidden path,
eyes within eyes, soul within soul,
horizons new, my morning dew.

Miscommunication is the tearful demise,
words unrecognized on a dark sunrise,
knock on the door of a hardened heart,
this unfinished symphony tearing us apart,
both reach out to touch the others soul,
grasp the empty space its secrets stole,
love lays in this old wooden chest,
so blow of the dust at your behest.

As the tears fall,
I feel no comforting hands to hold,
no arms to embrace,
just the sound of the falling rain,  
it's cold, dark, shades of grey,
echoing the radiance of my soul.

Jack boots march to the rhythm of our beating hearts,
out stretched arms salute the arrival of loves bitter remnants,
what once was the soul of thriving spirits,
now lays in disintegrating solitude,
sanctuary found in the shadows of a darkened room.

We are such fragile things
inescapable feelings that lock our souls in fire
burning from the inside with the flames of others
liquid thoughts that offer no purge
lucid dreams that remain out of reach
a touch on skin from another who cares
security in a loving embrace
all seems to far away
darkness falls at the end of our day.

Once upon his days,
should a man stand tall,
taller and loftier
than the highest of trees,
yet must he cast a wary eye,
for the saw and axe
do look on him to fell.

To want someone who’s never been there,
yearn for their hug in our hour of despair,
to hear their words as a soothing balm,
soft, warm cuddles that keep you calm,

to talk and laugh without a care,
whispers and giggles, secrets to share,
Snuggles in bed on a cold winters night,
drift into sleep in a spoon of delight,

To share a smile in a momentary glance,
hold hands and touch at every chance.
But I sit and write alone in this chair,
thinking of someone who’s never been there.

Love and hate do they not succle from the same breast ?
are thier ospring not uequivically the same ?
both encircle each other like a dog chasing its tail,
both attract the same emotion,
they are only felt through diferent harmonies.
a soul is a soul,
both weigh the same and measure the same in volume,
it is only their colour that difrenciates one from the other.

The dust settles, outlining your hand print on the bedroom floor, don’t want to breath, don’t want to move lest it be disturbed.
Gazing out through the condensation of my window into the midnight darkness, I try to recall our every word,  our every sentence,
whilst my heart beats out the endless lonely hours like the ghostly drummer on some ancient battle field.

© H V Swan

Why do we seek the image in the mirror,
then trust what we see in its frame,
the self gratification of the soul,
the ugliness of the truth it hides,
reflections of the things that we hide,
seeing through others eyes,
the belief in systems of lies,
throw the veil over all that we are,
taking refuge in the shadows it casts,
hidden by the pain that we fear,
imprisoned by the words that we hear,
take solace in what you see inside,
trust in the world contained within.

I hear her in the rain,
the black rain that swirls through the mist,
she sings me her songs,
soothing my soul,
glowing as the embers of a winter fire,
a shamrock in the fields of darkness,
she moves within me, I feel her warmth,
only she can bring me the love that I desire,
for it is only she that can quench this thirst,
all else is just breath on a glass,
temporal, meaningless, a tree without roots,
I hear your call my dearest, calling my name,
oh how I shall quicken and hearken to be at your side,
there and only there do I find my sanctuary,
my eternal rest, now and forever.