Shadows and ghosts
they eat at my soul
to old to feel the kick
to young to feel at rest
symmetry in a crooked line
acrid water that turns to wine
a cold patch in a heated room
voices in an empty hall
dark shapes in the corner of an eye
wish I could get some sleep
forever in peace,
in the last of these days.

She came upon the warm summer breeze,
like a ship sailing back from the darkest sea's,
I heard her whispers, calling my name,
Soothing my pain, like the soft warm rain,
I feel her deep within my soul,
her presence there making me whole,,
she see's through my eyes the darkest pools,
pulls me away from the scourge of fools,
I feel her warmth through her gentle hands,
as she takes me to those unseen lands,
for she will be my moon in the night,
restoring my sight with her radiant light,
reaching forth she takes my hand,
together as one through this barren land.

Blinded by shadows,  didn't see the light,
Should have asked you to dance on a moonlit night,
never caught you a star in warm embrace,
or traced the contours of your face.
never ran my fingers through your hair,
or screamed and laughed like we just didn't care,
never stared into your eyes, as dark as coal,
or poured my secrets into your soul,
didn't understand till it was all too late,
how the sugar sweet candy took care of your fate.

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

Ship ahoy !
she sails into the harbor,
masts glistening in the morning sun,
her decks a wash with the promise of discovery,
her groaning timbers telling tales of forbidden pleasures,
rich is her cargo and she bows under weight of collected treasures,
take me away oh merry band of sailors,
take me to your lands of bounty,
never again to return to these shores.

No moon tonight,  only the depths of a fathomless darkness, pitched black,
and in such bleak emptiness, the sound of the swirling wind becomes my focus,
whistling through the trees, rattling gates and fences, skimming rooftops,
strange noises as if the nights very teeth were chattering with fright.
Now, the warmth of bed becomes my sanctuary, sheets pulled over a weary head,
yet within such secure confines, the nights rampant breath punctuates my slumber,
sounds of ghostly whispers carried on ethereal waves, names of ones long since departed.  
Sleep eludes the hypnotic lure of the ticking clock, yearning for the distant glow of morns new light.

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.

The sea calls out her name,
soft whispers hidden in the sound of the waves that gently break against the shore,
holding out my hand I touch the empty air,
it reaches back yet I feel nothing but the cold,
salt filled mist that swirls through my soul.


© H V Swan

I'm drifting up towards the stars,
no one can follow me there anymore,
and although you cannot hear me,
I am saying in my mind that I am sorry,
for all those times I wanted to reach for your hand,
to hold it in mine and not say a word,
to protect you from the world,
to cuddle away your tears,
to listen to your every word,
to tell you how beautiful you were
those things you never knew,
how you stole my breath as I watched you smile,
how I held your things in my hands
how I never told you how I felt
how I sometimes cried over memories,
how I touched and smelt your clothes,
In such things are the foundations of a dream,
thinking of all those things that should have been,
for the briefest of moments you will remember me,
for I will be the warm breeze that you feel,
awaking in you a distant thought,
perhaps in a passing smile,
as I drift through your soul.

There’s a devil in me trying to raise his face
there’s a god in me trying to put him in his place
a fight to fill the hole in my heart
but the battle is lost before they can start
soul electric, here to stay
pulls me apart need to make them pay
a million volts in a lightning kiss
re-align my core in symmetrical bliss.

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.

The stigmata within our soul is clouding all judgement,  
a blood red mist casts shadows on our clarity of thought,
the clash of apathetic steel resounds out as we battle with the demons within.
Yet Christ is nailed to all our souls,
his blood falls as acid rain, acrid, vile,
tainting our vision,
polluting our vestiture of lustful thought,  
sanctimonious vibrations, sent to our darkest depths,
the spirit sighs under such lofty duress.


© H V Swan

Watch him twist, watch him squirm,
Watch him catch the early worm,
See him writhe, see him turn,
He’ll take your soul,
then watch it burn.


© H V Swan

The milk of human kindness,
a bitter tincture to swallow,
hold the nose, sip it down,
malaise caught in a furrowed frown,

never to bite the hand that feeds,
just gnaw at the skin until it bleeds
the masters table has room for all,
fain take our fill from the crumbs that fall.

A house full of spectres,
a mouth full of rye,
left out in the darkness,
someone will cry.

death was a reason,
tears were for show,
once out of the bottle,
these spectres wont go.

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.

Spirit walker what can you tell
standing amidst us silent and still
weaving our souls into a tapestry so rich
each silken thread a story to tell
you catch our tears in your soft white hands
watching us weep in a fervent prayer
so many voices inside your head
screaming out from the bones of the dead
take me with you oh spirit walker
for I am prepared for the journey ahead

Hidden from the world for so long,
she unfurls her pale face from the sanctuary of darkness,
weeping with her head held low,
she knows she must say goodbye
to the the comforting arms of her winter tomb,
the uncertainty of what may lay ahead,
as she reaches forth for the pearly rays of a springtime morn,
the dew moistens her parched lips,
telling of the promise of the newness of life,
the warmth of a springtime day, dry's her tears,
all is new, all is fresh, all is within herself,
searching, reaching, grasping the hope of what may lay ahead,
now she presents all of her hidden beauty to those who would wish to see,
so it is at this time of the year, that we should gently caress her face,
lest she falls and retreats back into the darkness of her crimson night.

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.

Cigarettes and alibis,
purple turtles, little white lies,
see you fall on a silver screen,
a living testament of all that’s been,

caught your tears in a bottle of rye,
never ever seen a crocodile cry,
storms a brewing in an old tea cup,
stirred up the leafs, our time is up.

Come grab your guitar
we'll sings some songs
like they did back in ''66
words found over a bottle of rye
'bout how the times are a changing
look around and you will see
its time to set ourselves free
your government is in control
while your tied to the progress wheel
round and round and round  it goes
where it all stops only freedom knows
so come on strum those frenetic chords
let the words flow from your heart
grab your life back from the tyrant's hand
rise from this sleep and make a stand.

The equilibrium of how warm meets cold,
the synergy of spring meeting summer,
the calmness before a storm,
how the first rain drops gently fall,
the smell of parched earth as the dampness spreads,
glinting sunlight through a passing grey cloud,
folded umbrellas drying by a door,
containing residues of the past, yet primed for the days ahead,
the darkness of mood lifted by a lovers smile,
futures unfold in the tears of an eye,
cares taken away by the simplicity of being,
calmness residing in the eye of the storm.

If I held out my hand
would you take it ?
it's warmth ready to permeate your soul
but what would it tell you of me ?
the scar on my finger
the wrinkling skin
the crooked pinkie
the gnarl on my thumb
stories to be told
if you would only take hold.

If I cried you a tear,
would you watch it fall,
would it write your name
in hews of black,
black like my heart since the day I left,
for we destroyed those rocks of old,
where we carved our vows in letters so bold,
such precious things have we let go,
into the realms of the waters so deep,
lost in the tides of the tears I weep,
your heart I hold in these withered hands,
fragile, protected and safe in their grasp,
for you my love I shall forever remain
locked in the sound of this sad refrain.

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.

The alchemist,
See's what others do not see,
Finds peace in the pursuit of their quest,
Endeavors to do what others say cannot be done,
Thinks internally and is not swayed by the views and opinions of others,
Knows that the path is more important than the goal.

Death, we cannot escape its mournful grasp,
there to greet us in in our heaving rasp,
reaching the end of our incumbent race,
it engulfs us like a pythons embrace,
coiling around our souls in a macabre dance,
hypnotic eyes as we succumb to its trance,
long since departed souls smile in an ironic bliss,
betray our presence with a Judas kiss,
so underneath the vultures stare,
we must now go and prepare,
for time is no longer our friend,
neither cares for the plans that we attend,
so take no thought for matters at hand,
for we are all but grains of sand.

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.

touch the steel,
cold, hard and  unforgiving,
like the life I have led,
yet in this moment of quiet contemplation
it seems strangely comforting,
sure and steadfast under my feet,
the sweat and toil of this vast construction,
lives that have given themselves to the quest,
yet I now find myself at one with this web of steel,
my only friend when no one heard my call,
cold, wet steel and the vast dark sky,
to this strange connection I must now say goodbye,
the time has come, my leap of faith.

The cold grey of a January morn,
reflecting my spirit so utterly forlorn.
Was it pain I felt when I watched you leave,
or a chance for freedom and some small reprieve.

Only  Silence remained, as you closed the door,
heard your footsteps fade, like the waves on the shore.
Love never lingered, nor heard my plea,
it could only tear asunder,  in its bid to be free.

Now time owns my soul but you have moved on,
You embrace this new stranger and say he’s the one,
and if ere I wish the clock hands would turn,
to those flames of desire, where our passions did burn.

Now all I claim is this house full of tears,
with its memories and dust marking the years,
and my spirit remains forever bereft ,
of those things that you stole on the day that you left.

© H V Swan

The embrace of snakes,
shamanistic dance,
two souls entwined together,
twin flames reaching forth,
binding the one with the other in cerebral bliss,
this their ritualistic initiation,
into the covenant of the two moons,
where only lovers find eternal sanctuary.

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.

We are buried under the sand.
for us, no sun-kissed June day,
no moistness of a morning dew,
no soothing waves between our toes,
no jubilant trumpet to herald our return,
no voice to cheer freedoms new dawn,
we are forever buried under the sand.

© H V Swan

Oh fly, fly, where have you been ?
a freshly laid dog **** or some moldy old cream ?,
buzzing this way and spluttering that,
spiraling angrily on to the cat,
bang into the wall then on to the floor,
like a mad game of pinball with a very high score.
Where next, my fluffy black friend,
a  slam of a book and I'm afraid its the end !

© H V Swan

Who are we to at folly jest
when folly is at our behest
seek we humour at anothers expense
whilst all the while we sit on a fence
grass being greener on some other side
now folly in us shall reside

You say it's just a Jinx ?
the alchemist's last kiss
I'l tell you of a life in vain
struggling in this darkness
life lived in a Pandora's box
opened the lid in this misty haze,
just a jinx I hear you say
but I tried to follow the eternal code
rain down my face
not knowing my place
but in the last of these days
I found the code of my DNA
no more time to smile
pushed to walk the extra mile
now this jinx is my warmest coat
settled in to this dark Catacomb.

I see the man who sleeps under the bridge,
he sings my song,  doesn't subscribe to your point of view,
lives between the gaps,  in places you've never seen,
he doesn't see the flag you wave,
nor cares to carry the message it bears
he see's the powers that be watching you fall,
marching to the beat of the new democracy,
freedom from the back of your privilege class,
while we all walk on the broken glass,
he hears the birds sing of a call to arms,
high in the tree's beyond your ivory towers,
through his tears we see it's time for a change,
as the wind blows through your corridors of power,
I'll search for the man who sleeps under the bridge.

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.

I can’t sleep,
I can’t drink,
got to see a man tonight,
shivers and shakes,
imaginary snakes,
walls closing in,
heads in a spin,
body in pain,
always the same,  
I've got a need,
a powerful need.

What if I were to say that beauty in itself does not exist,

how can such diversity be fixed as one representation ?

The flower raises a different image to each eye that beholds it,

The moon a different face to whom it beams down on,

a pretty girls smile has greater value perhaps to its recipient,

a lowly ant at its work, one person's fascination,  another's recoil,

We shun the view of our face in the mirror, whilst others smile at its radiance,

The newly born child, more beautiful to its mother than all the wonders of the world, whilst others may only view a wrinkled, writhing, screaming devil,

So the paradigm is such that we cast not judgement on anyone or anything without first considering the perspective of such questioning.

In her closet next to a shirt
hangs a concertina pleated skirt
she slips it on with grace and ease
the tiny pleats are there to please
like a million shimmering crystal shards
all tightly pressed like a pack of cards
as she moves they sway and dance
upon her legs they tickle and prance
the feeling makes her smile and shiver
which makes the pleats start to quiver
they skim and flatter her  hips and ***
like the majestic rays of a rising sun
such carnal delights found in a skirt
as she hangs it back next to the shirt.

That BBC accent over the air,
a beacon in my hour of despair,
Thames, Dover,  Portland and White,
the warm, soft glow of the radio light,
Shannon, Fastnet, Plymouth,  Biscay,
Soothing my soul ‘til light of day,
Dogga, Fisher and German Bight,
my only comfort throughout the night,
Cromarty, Malin, forth and tyne,
Through static crackle, his voice so fine,
Those childhood days have long since gone,
No big old radio to twist and turn on,
But I’ll always remember, forevermore,
Listening to the shipping forecast on Radio Four.

Ever tasted death ?
the ethereal mist of a new dawn,
swirling around your soul,
like a serpent made of tears

Give me some tincture,
save me from this house of fire,
eaten alive by all thats truth,
corked in a bottle filled with lies.

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.

Within this solitude of slumber,
lay thoughts that rip my soul asunder,
the quill won't wait nor does withhold,
the things in my mind that must be told,
penned with tears, diluted with pride,
carried forth on a moonlit tide,
messages sealed in bottles of hope,
laconic gods that twist the rope,
riding my spirit with consummate ease,
these ghosts that whisper in the breeze.

What is it that we see in others yet not in ourselves ?
why crave the footprints left by those who's path is already made ?
paths within paths, journeys within journeys,
look to those things that you hide in your soul,
unlock the secrets contained within your heart,
heal within the waters contained therein,
follow no one, seek not others words,
neither take no thought for tomorrows,
live not in pasts that remain in thoughts,
guide not those who's wisdom surpasses your own,
neither take water from such to quench your thirst,
look only to the light that shines within,
when you are ready, the guide will appear.

This is that
that becomes this
life is full of thats
in a time full of this
read the riddle of that
find all the answers to this
this will then become that.

City slickers born to tumble
will never make your mountain rumble,
take me to the parts that matter
in amongst the titter tatter
the coffee table ilks and dramas
cotton caftans and silk pyjamas
humming cars that cough and splutter
silver coins lost in the gutter
tabloid men in sharp pressed suits
trample down the fallen fruits
nothing sacred in this old town
except a peptic ulcer and a furrowed frown.

As harrowing as it might be
go hang your thoughts from a tree
the old gnarled bark remembers well
the days of light as the darkness fell
its twisted roots are buried deep
like comforting arms as we sleep
up above its branches sway
within its shadows we do pray
leaf's like tears fall to the ground
memories of the lost and found
we see it all through crimson skies
the tainted visions and all the lies
but if your soul seeks to be free
go hang it all from a tree.