*** sells
As does blame.

What hope for
me?

Promises of
obscurity?

Consummation
of the singlet

with the known
unknown universe.

a barren tongue and barren heart with an empty mind
licking sand dunes with the surface of the Sun on your lips
this is the poets desert , hostile, with muses dead across the sand
as far as the eye can see mirages of poems past litter all horizons
and now the witching hour has arrived falling to your knees
you beg all heaven and earth with a silent dead look of desperation.

I am in deep now
held in the strength of ages
silence loves me
all over
Inside and out

active can be passive
passive active

a poet on the quiet
listening

giving credence
to silence

allowing silence
to speak

gleaning songs
from the deeps.

simplicity itself says to let go
enjoy the mystery of who you are
allow love to love and be done with it all

you will find me in the graveyard
of all past memories;
searching for answers that fit into today.

dissected
de-limbed
reconstituted

all poetry
and poets
are muses

but I can never have your heart
as you can never have my head.

All poets are prisoner
and jailer
and free
and freedom

politicising poetry
I speak for the lost

all poets lost or losing
their hearts

to their muses
again and again...gone

Awoke to wake and be in wait
for a night like this
the partners to solitude
and silent wisps
of Angels folding wings
settled in and comfy sit
we all share our nights together
squeezed betwixt the cushions.

what the future holds
is consequences

there is red in the East
and the Sun is going down in the West

anger rides above the Sea
and the wind begins to howl

coming from the North
cold enters our bones

all seems wild
and connects with the soul.

gentle the wind breezes in May
gusts intermittent from Winter past
Sunshine and shadow vie
Bird song Bee Buzz
Daffodil yellow Dandy lion
all song to Spring.

it takes all sorts;
who am I to judge?
I am one 'all sort'

make do and mend
heal the ground you walk on

each word a Universe
all sound the Big Bang vestige

Conform yourself to the ending,
'All manner of things will be well'

When you are all talked-out
I will find you;
searching silence for love.

fake smiles only get you so far
putting off the inevitable droop
for a seemingly convenient time.

full belly of laughter
escapes its bonds

all that composure
disintegrates

now and again
explodes

shiny cars and my old van
all look the same
when its raining

wind rules here for days
on end
whipping up the sea
a white and grey frenzy
flinging flotsam and jetsam
across the shore road,
flaying the land and all
that wishes to grow,
howling through
dreams of poets
and the dreaming of lovers,
for days on end
she blows.

day
night
long
morning
afternoon
evening
what to do
all that happened
one day
night
long
morning
afternoon
evening
what to do
all that happened

Politics distracts like nothing else
all that hot air
its a poetical paradise of words

Grant a servants heart
that's where freedom lives

to give and to keep on giving
having no thought of oneself

paltry though my part maybe
love accepts my feeble fare

and love will increase with love
all that I freely give.

one can long for winter just as much as one can for spring
- its the stories she brings
the poetry she writes, and the longing hearts she holds close
-all that language she shares

The wind comes to blow awake my soul
all the glittering rain drops to delight my heart
where free and freedom skip along hand in hand

once released into the universe
for better or worse,
"Quod scripsi scripsi"

i dipped my tongue in the silence of the dawn
and listened to her colours
all the songs from ancient times
writ large across the forehead of Mankind.

I dipped my tongue in the silence
and the silence welcomed me home
all the arms of Mankind
wrapped around my mind.

wolves in sheep's clothing
all humble pie and
big teeth hidden behind faked smiles

I did jump that train
after I boarded that bus
walked a thousand miles
and I still haven't found
what I was looking for
but that's not so important
as the fact that remote island
life allows me to sing and dance
all the days of my exile from Eden.

Deep slumber are parts unknown suddenly brought to light
to consciousness once in the dark now cannot be denied
so on ones knees and brought so low now one prays
humility the road out of the forest of all the unknown
all the deep dark parts of slumbering sinful self-knowledge.

and while she is at the disco
I hunker down cosy
wishing her all the latest moves

physical skeletal bereft dead bones
of mine I never get to see
I leave in a grave dug anonymously
perhaps a wooden cross bearing name and dates
the last date I blissfully unawares leave
to mark where old bones lye and I died
departed this world and joined ancestors
and all the other folk who ever lived
the good, the bad, the indifferent, the keen.

all the poets will come out tonight
just before the full Moon rises
a day before the madness of love
separates them speechless from all others

Emotional connectivity
sharing of feelings
and of feeling empathy
can be very long road
indeed.

you are not your health, or lack of it
not your failings or successes
or your popularity, or your aloneness
not your job description, or your unemployment

No, you are much more than all these things

every which way you go
someone tries to sell you money
insurance, pension, something for an unknown future
a gamble on the stock market
lay up an idea of wealth, when you might or might not
have read all the small print

hearts are broken into
all the time

by beauty looking
for its home

to settle at last
all the time

hearts quandary to find
fulfilment of life

hearts are broken into
all the time

upchuck is a Wolf feeding its pup
a pup figuring it out
a Deer with big doe eyes
in winter-land christmas card
a Man will go a long way
lost in the ice and snow
all the way to cannibal

used to have yellowed fingers
stinking of nicotine

that drug had me hooked at age fifteen
-all the way to fifty three.

skewered, twisted,
undoable knot
deep in flesh-soil
looking at death
unholy smell
of rot
decomposed juices
a grinning skull
silent scream
all the way to Hell.

You set out for the desert
not for the sake of the desert (although love encompasses all)
the journey of love
those determined steps
and you were led
much more than you thought,
all the while love was searching for you
to find you in the depths of solitude.

you have to have worn many hats
before you realise
playing a role, is for Hollywood

it should come as no surprise when the mechanics fail in your ride
- anything made by fallible Mankind, is bound to breakdown sometime
and what does not breakdown Man insists on unpacking and this is especially true with poets and poetry, when all they tried to do was sing.

change is a river in constant spate
a fullness within all things

all things
making up the whole

you touch a star the other side of the Universe
with each exhale of your breath.

allow me to share the silence with you
for its where all things are said and done
no one goes without and all things are one.

As the snow melts
and ice becomes a river
the river becomes an ocean.

you have to set it all free my child
back to where it belongs

all things into the great stream

listen for awhile, a few moments
strung together

you may be surprised
by peace

for me
I only hear and see
silent movies