Today a flower unfurls in a distant place,
its fragrance a sweet smelling savor,
its delicate frame echoing lost beauty,
it whispers a name that can never be forgotten.

Smiling politely in the local store,
another happy shopper that most would ignore,
but what torrid secrets lay under her grin
the tainted stigma of that hidden sin,

she wraps up her fears with the things that she’s bought,
packed into bags without a thought,
the knots in her stomach drive her insane,
for she knows that tonight there’ll  be anguish and pain,

She drinks her coffee and stares at the clock,
It’s ticking hands seem to laugh and mock,
her doleful eyes are starting to mist,
as she thinks of the bruises made by his fist,

Violently  thrown onto a bed,
pinned down and stifled as if she was dead,
pretends not to feel the hatred and pain,
as her virtue is stolen again and again,

She’s sick of the broken promises and lies,
prays to a God who never replies ,
Its all tucked away where no one can see,
longing for the day that her soul will be free.

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.

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.

Riding on the back of a super nova
into your blackhole of paradise
a ticket to Mars with Jupiter rising
Saturns rings engulf me into a star lit abyss
orbiting Uranus in a stellar galactic trist
my rocket ship glows in unquenchable fire
riding to Andromeda on the back of ecstatic bliss
exploding in a meteor shower, sealed with a kiss.

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.

We are the ones who paint with words
thoughts and feelings soaring like birds,
horrors, dreams and things of the night
indelibly scribed for your delight

furrowed brows are forced to think
in pastel shades and jet black ink
scrawled in haste in an hour of need
raw nerves scraped until they bleed,

there is no cure or magic pill
we lost our freedom to the quill  
slicing our souls down to the bone
to leave a legacy carved in stone.

An ashen face is who I really am
solemnity is the key to my soul
I wear the darkness like an encompassing cloak,
robes of black in the fields of gold,
selling secrets never to be told,
I hear the laughter behind my back
cackling, mocking at my disguise,
but I sing my song, a sedative reprise,
what of you and your sentinel ways ?
you'll never be me in the last of these days.

Would that these sounds inside my head stop, for the briefest of moments,
for if it was so that I could just hear your voice one more time,
I would listen like a child in incumbent solitude,  
as if to a mothers soothing voice,  
reading never ending stories,
and if time would hold back these autumn tears,
I would breath again, feeling the cold, crisp air enter my lungs as a soothing balm,
healing my wounds and making me whole.

© H V Swan

A carpet of grass deft underfoot,
like a huge grey blanket swathing the landscape,
cold and bleak, enticing a quickened pace,
Whistling wind wraps around me like a skeletons arms,
teasing and beguiling me onwards toward a destination unknown,
on its breath ride the whispers of forgotten lost souls.
The moon peers down through a silken scarf of blackened clouds,
Its knowing face smiling sinuously, as if luring ships to the rocks on a tempestuous sea,
from its mouth fall beams of light that illuminate the hills and troughs ahead, like a procession of flickering lanterns on a majestic parade,
Blackened gnarled trees seem to bow in respect as the coldness of the night permeates my core,
their dark shapes appearing on the horizon, like tomb stones in some ancient graveyard.
So among this swathing scene unfolding and with coat collar raised, I merge with the shapes and disappear into the folds of night.

Ever seen the darkness shake ?
like the serpentine spine of a blood red snake
vibrations sent to the core of your soul,
burning your mind like simmering coal,
clamber for the light in your claustrophobic space
the demons in the shadows know your face
the tears wont fall just stay in your eyes
whilst all around you everything dies
dance the macabre its the only way
whirling dervish no time to pray
the ancient rhythms too much to resist
it eats you away like a cancerous cyst.

Tired of the same old dreams,
searching through the palest of moonbeams,
surfing on the tops of restless waves,
counting the hours of these endless days,
praying for things the soul does not need,
to the morning gods, the powers of greed,
mirrored ceilings and heart shaped pools,
senses played in this ship of fools,
someone come and take my hand,
the coolness of water in the barren sand,
yesterdays remain in the past,
futures grasped that never last.

What is it we see and so often despise,
when we view ourselves using only the eyes,
that distorted image inside our head,
the old snakes skin that we’d like to shed,

dare we look from behind the frame,
beyond the self-loathing, repulsion and shame,
our vesture is woven from the beauty inside,
so take on its mantel and wear it with pride.

Eyes like diamonds
contorted face
ancient fury
frenzied body jive
twisting spiralling arms
whirling dervish,
spinning out of control
dancing like a demon
he’s coming for your soul.

Left by the road side of loves great dream,
laying in the ashes and the dirt,
looking for a glint of light,
but the darkness surrounds me,
like a snake waiting to strangle my soul,
bleeding it out in the dead of night
left for dead in the wake of your words
allready building my funeral pyer
its flames calling out my name,
purged from this pain in this hour of need.

When you watch it bleed,
thoughts provoked by unspoken words,
careless whispers,
thrown into turmoil,
vision so blurred that you cannot see,  
you lie to your soul but it already knows the truth,
blind gods and meaningless christs,
swim for the shore,
to horizons lights,
cling to the things that make it alright.

The great bird is conceived in a glistening eye
a mythical wonder waiting to be formed
coiled in patience under palest skin
waiting to unfurl its majestic wings
a cold steel blade unlocks its cage
blood must flow to bring it life
its freedom found in fragmented bone
the bars that block its sight are pulled back
hands reach into the great cavern
grasping the wings to set them free
at last in splendour and magnificent awe
the blood eagle is seen to take flight and soar

Those nights with you,
sent the rain away,
would that you were here with me now,
if my tears fell gently into your eyes, would it make you see ?
sold my soul for you so there's nothing left,
now the night cuts me through,
long, lonely hours watching a clock,
its mournful face taking your place,  
under this blood red moon,
I guess love died too soon.

She made me dance on broken glass
waiting for the coup de grâce
she ran away and kissed a toad,
whilst I got stuck on a yellow brick road
the lion and the tin man started to cry
the scarecrow supped on a bottle of rye
click my heels and reach for the moon
watch her choke on a silver spoon.

Tempestuous sky's so cold and dark,
where no bird flies save lonely lark,
'mongst the shadows, where coldness spreads,
stand sepia shapes of wooden sheds.

Oh whispering wind, what can you tell
of a life of terror and tormented hell
or torrid groans of sleepless souls
under public signs, nailed to poles.

Breath stained glass surrounds a child's shoe
an exhibit in a holocaust zoo.
Silenced bones can speak no guile
'mongst blackened ruins of brick and tile.

These broken spirits now must yield
to unmarked graves in an open field,
''O death where is thy sting ?''
'tis in the voice of these who cannot sing
and when we remember alone in the dark,
think of this place and the lonely lark.

© H V Swan

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

Life on the edge,
feel the high but watch it bleed,
wind in the hair its the only way,
deal the cards see them burn,
burning rubber under a waning moon,
reapers breath on their necks,
see them in a neon haze,
their adrenal souls set a blaze,
taken in the blink of an eye,
two more stars in our night sky.

Running through pale shades of life
I thought I could catch love
as a butterfly through meadows of green
yet it hides in the shadows,
some have caught it in its splendour
to store away in a jar on a dusty shelf,
others were not quick enough with the net,
whilst some destroyed its fragile beauty.
In the darkness of shadows, I will wait,
for there will I hear my true loves call.

I've seen you in a thousand lives,
but only your soul ever survives,
I've floated in a million tears,
by your side through all these years,
seen it all unfold and felt all your pain,
heard you whisper in the pouring rain,
I've walked on a million lonely paths,
shared all your smiles and heard your laughs,
ran to your side as the darkness fell,
caught your eyes in a mariners bell,
so will you come and take my hand,
and we'll set sail for a distant land.

I’m in a tunnel,
a carpal tunnel,
a tunnel of pain,
no purple rain,
you thought you looked smart,
in your designer heart ,
that Polystyrene look,
your pretentious Facebook,
but I'll watch you fall,
won’t answer your call,
I'll just hide in my tunnel,
my carpal tunnel.

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.

Change is the prime motivator,
we always desire it,
we always seek it,
yet it constantly eludes us.

We are the changelings,
carriers of hopes lost
carriers of hopes born,
casting asside our anchors,
setting sail for destinations unknown,
the calmness of tempestious seas,
horrizons of distant lands,
each journey neither begins,
nor does it ever end,
we are the darkest of skies,
the keepers of secrets,
sifters of the sands of time,
so do your bidding,
drift on a sea of souls.

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.

We look on paths yet to be cleared,
yearn for stars as yet unseen,
set sail for unknown destinations,
blind in the vortex of a pitch black night,
souls that wander in darkest shadows,
searching for moons made of stone,
reaching forth through the void,
touching things that can never be seen,
take my hand through this thin veil,
for I will show you what is to become,
tears for the dead in oceans of green,
pleasures that abound in opulent days,
this is my covenant with the lost and found.

Electric eyes that try and see,
yet you think you know me,
the truth makes you squirm,
yet in credance you will never learn,

It's the essence of your belief,
hollow pots that are full of grief,
tantric words massage your soul,
shouting words from a fathemless hole.

you think you can take it all,
but a trip always precedes a fall,
there's alway something left to sell,
but no more words left to tell.

On crimson tides we ebb and flow
no technicolor dreams to show
the darkness falls at our behest
as from our hands the senses wrest

take the tincture to ease the pain
release the heart from this dark refrain
shadows revoke our light of day
to incumbent solace we must sway

Fucktrums and tantrums,  
it's all the same,  
nerve endings twitching,
oscillating to the sound of your favourite medication
is the doctor in the house ?  
we cannot tell
damaged goods sent to wrong addresses,  
dancing with spectres in the shadows of dissolution
my messiah will come,
he will bring the black horses and they will take my soul.

Come dance with the devil,
hear his violin call,
the soulful beauty of its music,
calling one and all,

Coiling round your soul,
with his slender, twisting arms,
teasing and beguiling,
singing his woeful psalms,

He’s taking his curtain call,
as you gently start to weep,
waiting for the darkness,
your soul is his to keep.

Spinning in circles,
looking up at the rain on this dark autumn night,  
it caresses the contours of my face, like you used to do,  
the memories ***** my brain like a thousand shards of ice,
I was once a believer but all I have left is this torn up soul.
Used up wishes and unlit cigarettes,
staring at the bottom of a thousand coffee cups,  
empty like the promises we once carved on blocks of stone.

In that moment,
descending into a drunken mess,
he tried to grasp at the moon but stumbled over his own soul,
what might have become or may have been,
ours is not to tell,
nor is there rhyme or reason,
for betwixt the threshold of darkness and a flickering candle,
the beacon to the lost is sometimes found,
inwardly looking at the reflection within,
not with standing the image without,
all is but a dream.

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.

You give yourself to someone,
become entwined with their soul,
then have to watch as they slowly melt away,
like a thin layer of snow, in the winter sun,
in desperation we try to grasp the vapor
but it slips through our hands
and drifts to the sky

Sometimes we sit in quiet expectation that the other will speak
only to be greeted by the silence of internal solitude
if we may hear the sound of our own breath
then do we know that life is indeed still in abode
does the other understand our internal rhyme
the words that keep the heart in its beat
the soul drags its bow across the taut strings
a sorrowful malady does spring forth from its tune
would that the other hear this internal melody
then hope might indeed cement over these cracks
scripts are always written at the lovers behest
only to be discarded by its woeful actors
scenes played to no rapturous applause
bows taken in haste with exits gratefully received.

Eyes

within eyes

within eyes

within eyes

within eyes

within eyes

within eyes

that do not see.

Those endorphic nights,
wrapped like snakes,
Shared blood in one soul,
we made our promise, carved it in stone,
now it just cuts me down to the bone.

Played our end game, created the path,
‘mongst the spirits, grasping rain,
midnight tears so cold and alone,
It will always cut me down to the bone.


© H V Swan

To drift in the wind on the edge of a dream,
chasing our thoughts on the back of a moonbeam,
candyfloss mornings and effervescent nights,
cascading  rainbows in a box of delights,

pretty girl smiles and puppy dog tails,
candy stripe slugs and polka dot snails,
ride the light on a sunlit wave,
into the void of the crystal cave.

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

Empty,
no hunger,
depression,
have to eat,
fill the emptiness,
throw up,
eat again,
throw up,
nothing fills,
only the pills.

Why do we feign such rapturous delight,
in pretence to others that all is alright,
what if the soul is quietly suppressed,
cloaked in darkness, hidden and repressed,

Are we ashamed to drape the veil,
to retreat into darkness and embrace the pale,
truth can be found from deep in a frown,
so why wear the clothes and tears of a clown.

© H V Swan

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 if obeying an unwritten law of doom,
I slowly raise my head from its stupor,
as if somehow my eyes might meet yours,
the weight of raising it saps all strength,
making weary the bones,
so here I sit in my quilted chair,
reciting dark verse and listening to the single chords
of a disenchanted violin,
trying to fit together the wrong shaped parts
of a cataclysmic jigsaw puzzle,
yearning for the light and shadows of my waning moon
as it drifts across the darkened shape of my window,
the cross shaped frame crucifying my soul,
yet within this sanctuary of mind,
all does seem calm and contented.

Twisted tales of how you fought a dragon,
silver scales pulsating through your veins,
the beating heart racing through your mind,
its great wings an ice cold wind through your soul,
from its mouth the fire bellows within your skin,
the great roar screams through your spirit ,
writhing, serpentine body wrapping around your limbs,
run it through with your sword of enlightenment,
the clash of steel against its claws of devourment,
its magical, golden blood,  now your bitter nectar,
the battle won through a mortal embrace,
so raise your lance in triumphant accord,
but keep up your shield and remember the pain,
chasing dragons through the mist and the rain.

Her soul is on fire,
the heat from it taking me higher,
soaring on a demons breath,
taste on my lips, the kiss of death,
reaching forth she takes my hand,
leading me to a foreign land,
through the shrouds of darkened bliss,
wraps my spirit in an immortal kiss,
shields me with an apocryphal embrace,
takes me to her resting place,
she feels, she see's, she knows,
the ancient wisdom of the crows,
binds me with a seal of tears,
keeping me safe through all the years.

Reality flashbacks
life spinning on a dime
open the doors of perception
let's commit a crime