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Jack Aylward Oct 2015
Mind of power
Controls the crippled bodies dying; burnt
By the sun. Hung by a far-reaching cold iron chain;
Ringing with bursting, thrusting pain;
Where the eyes are tissues of penetrating darkness that turns into tortured dreams.
You can still hear the screams,
The muttering, the mumbling, the confessions of the innocence that learnt
The sufferings and sorrow of evil. I lay a flower
Into blood and left it to float upon a river of *****; leaving
A stream of pneumonia, a stream of the plague that
Left the pungent smells of perfume dying.
I watched their estranged faces, their eyes still crying.
Bodies lie still awakened in trench like beds; lying flat
On their backs as they left their loved ones grieving.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Aug 2015
A single feather
Floats into the lost
Darkness.
Naked and silent;
Free in flight.

A swan
Makes way
To my opened window
Which had broken
The moon's reflection.

Snowflakes drop
Forming a standstill
Of life....

Love had melted
Its touch
As my fingers curl
Through the softness
Of the swans white feathers.

©Jack Aylward
I wrote this on Christmas Eve a few years ago. The heavy snow, the moon and the illumination of light as well as the thought of Christmas inspired me to write this poem. There was no swan but the whiteness of snow and the moon caught my attention and the snowflakes were like swans feathers
Jack Aylward May 2016
Sipping ice-lemon tea whilst
People watching....
Regardless of time
I float almost into a reverie
Not of dream but
Gently listening to the songs of the skylarks.

© Jack Aylward
     11th May 2016
I wrote this today on Facebook first as there was a post on the season Spring which others left some of their poems on Spring so I got inspired to write my own and this was the result! I got 5 likes in 10 mins and one comment! I just read it to Dad and he said "It sounds like you were drunk at the time when you wrote it"!!!
Jack Aylward Oct 2015
As I sit upon my wooden pine bench
Cool air escapes
Across the lawn into the mists of dawn.
Perfumes
Are blown from the apple trees
As the fragrance reminded me of when I was a boy...

I would sit and play
With an old wooden toy
Soldier I named Troy....
But now the petals have faded away
And Troy, well he is gone too.
You can still smell the sweet perfumes
Like roses
From the sweet apples;
- That if you lay one of them in your hands;
Were as big as your fists.

The thick running juices as you bite
Into one
Brought happiness
To me and my father
Over the years
- Who has sadly passed away now.
I buried him beneath the willow tree
Upon a small hill
Looking down towards
The waterfall
- And above him the stars.

When it rained
In the morning
The water would rush into the waterfall
Where the vast amounts of water
Would deafen our ears
Like a non-stop avalanche
And the pink and white petals
From the apple blossom tree
Would glide and float through the small wind
Falling like a shower of confetti,
Covering the gigantic salmon that leapt.

Swallows scuttled
Through the leaning sky
Being free in their dreams
As the climbed through the painted sky.

The meadows mellow as could be
Stretched like never-ending green
Sacks of dreams in which such memories
Continued to echo throughout my youth.

And at night the nestled stars
Melted like running water
And would pour into the waterfall
From the hand that stretched out
To touch and hold them
And let them escape
To be free at last.

The fragrant pine trees
Left a scent of sweet oranges
And the roses:
A fragrance of strawberries
Rushed and fled into the air.....

How often is a breeze full of
Memories, perfumes, sometimes silence and
Sweet tunes?

- A swallow swiftly sings in freedom,
A lark let's out a wonderous sound of bells,
A swift bends in the wind,
A thrush proudly sings the mourning alarm.

©Jack Aylward
This is a poem that still needs work on its syntax but I hope that you will like it anyway.
Jack Aylward Sep 2015
Pink caress
Your lips
Press
Together
To kiss
Upon mine.

©Jack Aylward,
28/9/15
I wrote this after drinking Isla Negra wine and playing 'Pink Moon' by Nick Drake, softly in the background whilst also watching the supermoon eclipse, tonight, turn a subtle pink!
Jack Aylward Aug 2015
The beauty of the kiss;
Your lips,
The burning of the mouth
Of inhaled perfume.

The beauty of the heart;
Your breast,
The eros of our copulating
Bodies of intoxicating music.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Aug 2015
Drowse, sink, escape
Until free to sleep
There you will fall deep
In love while the nape
Of your neck and the shape
Of it is softened by touching with a sweep
Of my pressing lips that creep
Towards yours. There your hair will drape;
Fold with light
As the lamp finds your face
And the fire finds the night
To where the moon finds its space;
There the desire to kiss will reach its height
And fade and leave without a trace.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Aug 2015
Broken, bent with words
Crippled with bad illusions
Approached by still dreams

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Sep 2015
Clear like a pearl of magic,
This silver eye
That looks down at us
In a world of it's own understanding
Makes love with the sun
When they come together
To embrace.

The moon is like a globe of love;
A synagogue of peace.
God's eye watching over us,
Keeping us safe.
God's face admiring us
With our beauty
As we act on his stage.

The moon is like a woman's breast,
Her heart, her soul,
Her eye, her womb,
Her ******.

The sun burns with ****** desire
When the sun and moon come to kiss;
They become locked
In an eclipse of fire.

Mysterious
Like a blanket,
Like a golden fleece
The sphere of the moon sweeps across the sky
Like a quiet dream;
Floating like a ghost.
Wandering in jolting movements
As it sits in it's black watery hell.

As the moon sits
On a layer of haunting past,
Beauty, myth and adventure
It discovers the wilderness of ourselves.
It watches us making love,
It watches us when the world
Is at an end in war
And terror.
It confronts it with love and peace
And when we are in need of love,
Comfort and help
And his friends: the stars
Are at rest
He finds his own way of knowing
Where we are....

For those people who suffer the most
Are given hope,
Love and freedom.

And when the romantic moonlight spreads across
The lawn with silver shadows
It gives us pleasure of dreaming in silence....

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Aug 2015
Your hair is like a sea of waves
As the moon manifests with swathes
Of hue
In my heart the sweet sensation is you
As the visions of your
Face eclipses with the moon's allure
Which blinds the mirrors of my eyes
Where the light transcends to rise
Like a ghost of light
In flight.
As your beauty turns into a reflection
Your face most eloquent in complexion
Folds into the back of my mind
Where I leave it later for me to find....

©Jack Aylward,
19th February 2004
Jack Aylward Oct 2015
Beauty is under surveillance
The night-watchers are in keep
The guns are being cocked
The clocks are already timed
And their watches synchronized to a T.
They walk the streets day and night
In their droves of silence. Only the rain
You can hear.
They wait; searching in cafés,
In bars and clubs, restaurants alike,
Anywhere sociable.
They even wait in people's homes
Till that certain person or persons
They are looking for arrives or not.
They wait and sometimes wait and wait.
If you look out of your window
You can see
The snipers in the trees.
You can see them standing
On the rooftops
In their long black raincoats.
At night all you see is the
Search-lights parading up and down
The streets and onto people's homes;
Evading their privacy,
Trespassing their minds.

©Jack Aylward
I was inspired to write this poem after reading the novel: '1984' by the author George Orwell
Jack Aylward Oct 2015
Flipped in the oven sun, arched like a bow
They jumped one by one
As they found their own way through the thick foam
Of the falls of Shinn
Where the rushed and glided
Flying through the air
Like dolphins in the cool
Seas  of Firth Of Forth;
Trying to find home
As the ice broke free.

Sitting on the cold rock
I feel the slime,
I feel my face burn with stinging
Coldness from the water spray
As I watch them leap
Into freedom.
I also escape...
Drinking my souvenir whiskies
From my 1970's
Led Zeppelin satchel.

Above me people snap shots with their flash
Cameras
As they rise like the sun.
Children laughing and feeling happy
Except one who wants to go home;
My brother who wants to watch TV!

Right next to him was the most beautifulest girl
I've ever seen.
Rainbows were in her auburn hair
Burning with autumn sun,
Blossoming with winter snow drops.
Her hair was like the river itself.

Her eyes were as green as the four leaf
Clover I held in my hand.
Maybe I was lucky to be in love.

Her eyes for that very second floated into mine
As she smiled
And I smiled back.
God how much I wanted to kiss her.
She was utterly beautiful.
But in that very instant she was gone
And I was never to see her again....

In the autumn light
Showering shadows
Were starting to collect crystals
In the melted waters below
And the gold is beginning to spread
Upon the leaping salmon.

©Jack Aylward
I wrote this after I went on holiday to Sutherland in the Scottish Highlands when I was about 15. It was my summer school holidays!
Jack Aylward Aug 2015
The sea washes our feet clean.
Our minds washed by the flooding stars.

You skim the stone
You shaped
The night before.
It skims across
The mirrored lake
Like skaters on ice
Or like the moon
Gliding through
The air
After which it collapses and dies
Into the frozen underworld.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Feb 2016
The sleepers
Echoed their nightmares
Into the night
Bringing with them emptiness
And sorrow
Into their everyday lives.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Feb 2016
The ******, the gamblers, the killers
And the serial killers,
The psychos, the schizos, the villains.

The streets are *****.
The biggest ****** are in this city.

The streets are full of creeps.
The little shites
Walk up and down under street lights;
Licking the ***** of cheap ******
To whom money is a gun.

Dope dealers are priests.
Prostitutes that walk like wild caged beasts
Parading up and down the red
Light districts
Are desperate nuns looking for fun.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Oct 2015
The willow stood flower-like as a star.

The birds were like a choir following thy
Mellowed tune
As I whistled through the light winds in the air
And the meadows were green with mint and clover.
In the center laid a carpet of buttercups
Exploding with vibrant shades
Of purple primroses.

The blue sky crawled
And dripped onto the leaves
Where the green cadmium leaves of the willow
Were lifted and bounded in my soul.

The cleavage of the hands
That sing may hold the dust
From the clouds above
But the remembered memory is left alone
As the tightening of the roots
Gathers me together;
Finding the tune that embraces him
Enfolding him into a wandering dove.

Happy thoughts I had
When I slept at night
Upon a branch
Making faces with the moon
Listening to the willow
Whistling, humming
With its harmonic beat
In G Major.
But now summer has blown away;
It is gone forever.

In deciduous opening
When leaves had fallen
Like my youth
Before it drifted away;
I had vacant memories and happy
Pictures of childhood days
Where I had been alone
And wrote swiftly with pen and paper.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Aug 2015
This night
Is for lovers,
For people who kiss.
This night
Is for song,
For romantic endeavour.
This night
Is for sharing
Love for each other.
This night
Is for sweet talk
And beautiful things.

©Jack Aylward,
17/10/13
Jack Aylward Oct 2015
This wind blows like steel
From the cotton fields
Across my backyard.
My hand holds a cold metal
Object.
It is sharp,
Shiny
But old.
Its a picture frame
Holding a memory
Of youth, love, and happiness.
- I am old and alone now.

©Jack Aylward,
28/11/11
Jack Aylward Aug 2015
To love we conquered
Whilst we were still young.
I walked that earth,
I touched that sun.

Those lips I once kissed
Were my first
As they were the sweetest to thirst.

Your hair had the golden mirth
Of the sun;
We made love all night long
As we would lie together
Watching the shooting stars race
Across the sky.

But since we have parted
I've started
To think how much I've missed
Your face.

©Jack Aylward
22nd June 2005
Jack Aylward Jul 2015
Emptiness rang me again:
The slow pitfalls of exhaustion
Slashed the hard roughness of my lungs
As I lay there escaping, trying
To think, trying to speak.

I was wordless, unable to move
I thought how ashamed I was, how cold
The world could be to see the
Trembling words from my mouth turn
Into blood....I was actually
Coughing up blood....
Blood that turned a blackey red
When the air dried and my
Throat burned like
The claws of a thistle.

My gut felt as though it had wrapped itself
Around my heart, letting
The muscles tighten with *****
As they pushed and pushed
Harder and harder
Gripping onto the walls of my stomach;
Churning and tossing as at sea.

Steam from my sweat rose from my flesh
And dripped onto me from the roof
As I became massacred by
Feeling, as though I had to mutilate myself,
When the acidic horrors of my
Nightmares began burning off.


©Jack Aylward
(Published in the Scotia Review magazine, no.24 edition, Summer 2001).
Jack Aylward Sep 2015
That night we walked
The wind in our hair
Burned our faces like razors
Whipping up the dust
Off the streets;
Eyes stinging red.
But we held hands
Clinging to each other's bodies
Like steel.
We never did let go of each other.

The streets were empty; cold.
Sweet woodsmoke filled the air.
A dog howled, there were whispers
In the trees
And leaves flew like birds;
They had scattered all around us.

That night the moon had followed us across
The Bridge Of The River Tilt.
Wherever we went, it was there
Naked like a white sun
Brandishing its golden eye
To protect us with its 24 carat light.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Sep 2017
Wine, songs and love. They adorn the festive night: So live, whoever imagines kissing and loving and drinking and singing! Three friendly stars flash into the darkness of life; the stars sparkling so confidently; They are called song, love and wine ...

                                                                                          Theodor Körner
I want to share this beautiful poem which I translated from German into English from an antique wine cup. Hope you like it!  Theodor Körner (full name - Carl Theodor Körner) was a German poet and soldier, who had fought during the Napoleonic wars. He was born in Dresden in 1791 and died in Rosenow, 1813, aged just 21.
Jack Aylward Oct 2015
And slowly it all clicks
Into place

The other night
You slept around

Love had slipped
Under your door
And later made its way
Out of the window

You had crept, crawled
Into a magnet,
Through a web
And had fallen after being thrown
At the wayside
Into the dirt.

©Jack Aylward,
27/7/08
Jack Aylward Oct 2015
Its not unusual that the heart
Is lost; its the mind.
The mind can go mad
The heart not.
If the heart is broken
Its through love's own doing.
The mind simply cannot control it,
The mind thinks different.
The mind can go mad
Even though the heart still has love in it.
The mind holds all evil,
The mind can go mad.
The heart is of love;
It has the anger.
Yet the mind may think
Otherwise.
Often if you love through the heart
At the same time
You can think evil ways
Through the mind.

©Jack Aylward,
26th April 2004
Jack Aylward Feb 2016
In the dark hours
Of insanity
We howl at the moon.
In quiet desperation
We stab our eyes out
So we can't bear witness
To the crimes
We commit.
We make ourselves deaf
Till our ears bleed
So we can't hear the voices
That tell us to engage in ******.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Feb 2017
Did I ever tell you
That we all burn
Because our lives
Are all so ****** up?
Life is so *******
Meaningless!

We live our lives
Every day
On hope.
Not necessarily because
We believe in it
But because
That's all we have
To rely on.

                                               ©Jack Aylward
This poem has been lying in my drafts for about 9 months!! Thought I would give it some life by sharing it. I haven't edited it, just left it, as it is, but just added my name to the bottom. I imagine I had left it for so long because I wasn't sure to add an extra verse or not at the time. I hope you like it who ever reads it.
Jack Aylward Oct 2015
Your sweet love
I caressed:
Lip to lip
We pressed
Under the nakedness
Of the moon.
Your beauty undressed;
Curved and
Lined
With breast
And mind,
Eyes,
Nose and
Lip.

©Jack Aylward,
22nd November 2003
Jack Aylward Feb 2016
..... The colour of water?
The colour of the world?
The colour of the wind?
The colour of the air
We breathe?
The colour of your kiss?
The colour of your mind?
The colour of your soul?
The colour of your life?

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Aug 2015
Love is like an echo
Of salvation.
Without love you
You cannot live;
You could not possibly
Live without it.

When your lover
Kisses you for
The first time
Your heart
Begins to float,
Sails like a boat.

Afterwards
As lips
Part from
One another
Your heart
Is filled
With life
And incense
As it flies
To the skies
Like a fire-bird.

- Only then you
Know
You're in love.

©Jack Aylward,
29th February 2004
Jack Aylward Feb 2016
I bark at the moon
But no-one has heard me
Not even God.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Aug 2015
It was a warm sunny day.
The sun like a warm breast,
Soft against my cheek.

There was a fantastic mackerel sky
painting the blue.

The mountains were golden
Like eagles wings.

I walked by the hum of the river
And thought of you and I.

As I walked, the sun made love
Through the trees.
I remembered the touch of your hand
As I held it in mine....

I remembered our kiss whilst walking
Through the whiskey ambered leaves
That made the sound of dancing lips.

The smell of steaks in passageways
Came from the graveyard of white
Caravans along the riverbank.

The sweet tobacco-like fragrance
Of peat filtered about the Old Bridge Of Tilt;
made me think of summer holidays
When I was a young lad in Orkney.

I could have written a sonnet
Of birdsong for you;
The songs of thrushes.
Timeless and always sweet
You come to my mind.

The day was wonderful but I wished
That I had spent it just one
More time with you.

©Jack Aylward,
18/4/14
Jack Aylward Aug 2015
You fall onto the bed
Posing like a goddess
Of dreams.
At the mirror
Your reflections
Twist and turn
Draining all the light
Into a stellar force
As your magnetic grasping
Fragrance
Breaks the silent moment.

Under the floating flirtatious thought
Your kiss softens the numbness
Of my lips
And we part....

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Sep 2015
For love we have died.
Now I know fools and
Cowards do have hearts;
I was one of them.
Brave ******* we were,
Brave ****** ******* all of us.
We fought with fist and gun,
Stood up to fight the ruddy ***
But we were always
On the ****** run.
Young and without a warning
We ventured too far under the electrifying sun.

©Jack Aylward,
4th April 2004
Jack Aylward Apr 2016
I kiss you
On tiptoes
Under the
Butter of
The sun.

                                           ©Jack Aylward
                                                 29th April 2016
Jack Aylward Oct 2015
We made music
For the dawn birds
And watched the sunrise.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Aug 2015
Your cute brown eyes shaped like angel wings
Move me, excite me with passion and desire.
I can't help
But fall in love.
The way you look deep
Into mine
Makes me want you more and more.
I enjoy looking deep
Into yours too.

- I want to lose myself
In your beauty.

©Jack Aylward
7/8/15

— The End —