She came to me with a mane of hair like a lion
and laughter like a roar in the jungle
and still I could not see her perfectly camouflaged
an angel in love with her dark side.

Go deep into forever
and find
Everything

how the Sparrow finds it comfortable to twist its head around and put its beak beneath its wing feathers and sleep is a mystery they keep to themselves

one breath at a time
one heart beat
one thought
one communication

strung through
together
a narrative
story of life and death

did I meet you there
when we both were swimming
did we touch
through a salty medium.

truly spiritual beings
never pick up the gun
killing is anathema.

rooted down deep
-a calling

attraction keenly felt
-a knowing

connected to the soul
-a childlike serenity

Eternity knows not time;
distance is irrelevant.
All is connected;
a oneness. An awareness;
of wholeness.

solitude freely undertaken
sounds drip into the ear

a silent voice sings of love
taken up by the stars

ancestors of tomorrow
yet to be born

on this journey
into forever

chosen to walk
alone.

spiralling smoke after the flame
ash begins to fall
fingers of nicotine yellow
holding onto ancestral fire

We huddled around our own fire
lightening and volcanic eruption
a spark borrowed from the Sun
and a new weapon was forged
its glint captured our eyes and minds
and our hearts became hardened,
ancestral fire, hearth and Anvil.

you come from a long line of misfits
so why worry!

you rained out the sky
many times
before you crawled out the sea.

My sisters are world wide
brothers too

not forgetting those relationships
where some have passed over to the spirit world(but no less family)

and my faith in a Creator God )of love
allows for
sisters and brothers of other worlds,
other Planets
and this is the rich faith
I have been handed down.
Believing in the Human Race
to slowly come around to love.

at anchor
now

anchored
shifting sands

moving
with tides

tied to
a moon

for love
and succour

wrapped around
a sun

too hot
to touch

up anchor
move on

sail into
space

there will come a time when part of your history is ancient
like the fact that you were around before the mobile phone

horizon is where we meet
but it is just an illusion

ancient beyond counting

we met before all things
--
came into being

Around the fire
snuggled in;
The story begins.

Clouds above our heads
- original nomads

Let go any excess
- travelling light

Teaching all wordsmiths
-ancient art of verbage

witnessing the ancient past is easy
look at a distant star and be transported

see the light of fire burning
when you and yours were still nothing.

you reach the ancient
when more folk are younger than you, on planet Earth,
than those that are older.

you can cuddle a fish but I doubt you will get any warm feelings

the music of listening
is filled with silence
silent songs of the ages
Written on the hearts
of all creation
the singing of the ancient
Poets.

Asking the help of the Patron Saint of Poets
go no further than the
Book Of Psalms written down in The Old Testament
a collection of spiritual poems par excellence.

A fire smoulders; red heart deep in black ash.
The poets life dying; or so it seems.
Ancient portal; the tempting muse;
Calls across the sea from a far off shore.

and again the wind howls
refuse collection cancelled
(along with ferries)

Island life, par for the course,
cut off from the whole wide World
microcosm spinning eternal realms.

i chose my forest
and picked my tree

climbed her boughs
as high as I needed

sat on a branch
and began to sing

listened long
for the forests songs

the birds and spirits
of poets

the songs of crickets
and the stories

-of man, Red Riding Hood
the Three Bears

the three little pigs
and Jack and the Bean Stalk

the Pied Piper
who took my heart.

I fain would write a love song
but I leave all song to the dawn
and as for love?
You were loved before all dawns.

one burst of Sunlight
one bird song
transforms our Island (or should that be my mind)
from drab
to magnificent and beyond.

pull up your socks

best advise

I ever

was given

in the meaningless

I found

a
certain

freedom.

if you are judged
and know
imperfection

if you are aware
of
your weakness

stand with me
let us
stand together

and celebrate
celebrate
our shared truth

leave all the ' I am perfect'
to their delusion
and shine poet, shine.

and dancing she seduced the thousands,
to battle, to battle and death.

the lightness of the spirit
I give to the nimble sky

the heaviness of the body
I give to the weighty sea

and its ok
to do these things

my space against the ravages weather can wreak
is full of saints and angels taking it easy-
just sitting around waiting for me to speak-
if I wish to ask a favour they all perk up
crowding round so as not to mishear me
and I whisper prayers just to keep closer
closer to the love they all bare me.

fully into character
I make it through the door

dragging all my weakness
behind me a dead weight

memories flavoured unique
keep knocking on my consciousness

and now and again
I remember to breathe.

I do not feel except maybe chillies
on my lips
Ah! but a teenage first kiss
now that I remember!
but no longer.
Now lips are for attempted poetry
to sound out words
while all the time within the pronunciation
within the lines and body
a song sings in perfect harmony
and now my lips kiss the wind.

squeak in the hedgerow
onyx eyes
a mouse nibbles
while a Kestrel
hovers
life and death
death and life
the forever circle
circles around us all.

where all mouths are opened wide
and silence the only voice in town
I sighted a Blackbird fly and sing
orange beaked to his lover. And
his lover answered in silence
opening the door to death. A boy
shot the two lovers and reloaded.
Satisfied he had killed love this
time.  And he was all powerful.

I met with a Man with a gun
and the gun defined Man so much

He had a trigger finger
and a bright shiny holster

We started to argue with respect
but in the end

He pulled out his gun
and shot me dead.

******* in the universe
expanding lungs

strange poetry
filling the mind

sounds set loose
from the throat

and silence
ending every song.

I struggled and kicked, hit out, screamed and yelled,
ran away, hid, and denied your existence
And still you loved me.

floundering in your own accusations gives me no pleasure
except of course the sheer pleasure of the freedom of truth.

goodwill aligns with the All of love
and love is at peace with goodwill
this is a dynamo forever creative
no forlorn magic conundrum.

to find accept and maintain
the living loving desire
this is the highest this wretch could reach
and the fruit is peace

I danced in the rain
to try and make it stop

guess I'm just not very good
at dancing.

I jumped trains to ride the Sun
all the way to Texas
where tequila on ice is served in pints
and women wear cowboy boots and Stetsons
with frilly white edged dresses their grandmothers wore
kicking up the dust of a thousand head of cattle
as they danced to the sounds of a jew's harp
and a guitar playing in the distance.

Do not be afraid;
the sign hanging above the train station,
keeps swinging in the breeze.
And then that tonnage spitting sparks,
fire in its belly, and men waving flags
riding the skirts of the monster,
slowly screeches to a juddering halt....

Bonnie weather is all relative
hail from the north..brrrrrr

Clattering arrival on window panes
all goes dark and then black.

Snow is forecast, our April
par for the course.

And the snow falls
right on time.

Spring Daffodils new to the world,
yellow, poking through the white.

The Sun claims your ashes
the sea your fluid self
the Earth your clay
your soul to eternity
belongs today.

tongue-twisters awash with false bravado
which is full to the brim with double-meaning

......and this art is where we finally meet
the caricature of my subconscious played by my conscious self
pulled asunder the dark veil and shining light of truth
I emerge, no, pull back the tide of time and dreams are lived in the full light of day where no man before has trod. A poet and a friend hand in trusted hand stride forth across all the beauty and terror that lies within.
The art of being oneself on show to the world half hid from itself.