He passed a preacher in hazy,
Misty, London streets.
Whispering sermons
From cracked shoeless feet.
None would stoop to
Cast a passing ear,
To the words of a man
With nothing left to fear.

He told tales of love,
Tempered by the light of reality.
Love of money,
Love of greed
And all the objects of fiction
We imagine that we need.

"To each let it be known!"

"None of your possesions are yours to own!"

"Leased out for the duration of your time!"

"From house to car and from the body to the mind!"

The passers by barely noticed the guy
Who spoke from the heart
With the words of the wise.
The wisest words they would hear for weeks
Lost among the
Hazy, misty, London streets.

Today I put down the pen
And raised my sword,
To charge down a path forlorn.
Past a river of scorn
That lies in the shade of
Humanity torn.

Branches that weep
And overhang this road,
Stand sentinel, skeletal and cold.
They whisper to us yet we shan't be told.
Now far gone from all moral code.

There are no good intentions
Once cursed by interventionist actions.
You sir shall ******* steel,
Eat well, for tomorrow you will
Dine on your final meal.

The trail of treachery is long,
And shall last till all bitterness is gone.
All that now remains
Is a feeling to try explain.
The thought that lies dormant in my head;
What's done is done,
No good can come from the dead.

With a sigh,
I put down my sword.
And withdraw my pen once more.

Take only what you can carry,
Only what you need.
Just enough to feed and water
You and a faithful steed.

Forget the path well trodden,
That will not help you on your way.
Instead forge your own trail
For others to follow one day.

Never shy from an opportunity
Throw yourself through every door.
For this life is an adventure,
Now go,
Explore!

They never gave a ****.
A silhouetted master plan,
A shadow of a man,
Summons a feeble grasping hand.

A grip that's none too tight,
Sand slips through fickle fingers' sight.
Hour glasses and tricks of the light.
The hand of time, immovable might.

Despite of

Inspite of?

Rivers and oceans in our minds
Defy, turn the tide, divide.
Ox bow truths and eroded lies.
Mountain streams serenade the blind.
And those unwilling to see.
Blinkered to the plight of man.
Banned from the light of eternity.

I bow to no man, god, nor country,
But for you I would take a knee.
Walk upon a shore of glass
Proclaim vows unto the sea.
A voice once lost in tides,
The winds and ocean swell.
Found again once more upon
Echoed whispers of a shell.

"All This Too Shall Pass"
The good, the bad,
Twisted looking glass.
Time, it never lasts.
Flags forever at half mast
Fluttering in the breeze.
Fabric clapping half arsedly
While the trees let loose a sneeze.

The moss cares not for you and me
Live and let live, what will be will be.
The air we breath, annals of history.
Truth and make believe.
Keys with no lock or chain,
Concieved in hope.
Born in vain.

The treeline stands as sentinels,
Offering crowns to the crescent moon.
The rooted column of soldiers
Witness the slender shadow as it grew.
A thumb sized fairy in its hand,
Bent double to whisper tidings
Of human flesh on sacred land.
That which is sacrosanct
Can not so easily be swayed!
As all the beasts of myth and nightmares
Charge on into the fray.

The knight finished taking a **** against the tavern wall,
The last defence of the realm, children and us all.

Well.....

That and trebuchets,

Spears,

Swords.

All the tools of war.

Far beyond the Forrest front
Pride, The Lord of Man
Forges ill thought plans
Lazily playing chess, cavalier
With the lives of pawns.
Thoughtlessly moving pieces with
Trembling blood stained hands.

Time sits slouched,
Whisky supped from a shoe.
Space takes his place,
Beard smothered in brew.
Hope sprawls eternal,
Smiles, on the face of the few.
The night is masked,
Casked honey dew.

Amber obscures,
Procures,
Distorts the view.
Glazed by a hazy
Feint green plume.
Time takes a sip from
Weathered worn out shoe.
As space wipes his face
Hope yawns on que.
The night is released,
At least for now, until
The fall of the morning dew.

The answers we find
Shall never be as grand
As the answers we seek.

We fight over what we want
At the expense of what we need.
Crippled by whims,
Lashed by whips of greed.

Love, compassion.
Food, water
And shelter
After a fashion.

No Falchion will safeguard our walls
Until we know what they are for.
No cheap parlor tricks , No following a flag
No cheap death, No bugle call.

At the start we are all helpless,
Utterly reliant.
We stand
We fall
We cry
We crawl.
Not always so compliant.

In the middle we are at our peak.
Suddenly defiant,
We smoke
We drink
We ****
We think,
We forge our own alliance.

At the end we are all frightened.
Our life is at its tether.
We think
We're ******
So we'll drink
To good luck.
And hope that we'll all
Live forever.

Atlas wept for the world above
And for the burden that he bears.
A weight waylaid by mortal love,
A weight made heavy by despair.

Shoulders burning on aether shores
Orchestral spheres fall into view.
Conducted celestial tears,
Run glacial currents of blue...

And Red.

Always Red,

This knight of that crimson hue
Forgot the purpose of his charge,
Cast off all the burdens that he knew.

Sadly,

That includes me and you.

When our love for life is lost,
The joy long since departed
And all around us crumbles
Like the one who is broken hearted.

When our fears are finally found,
So much closer than we thought
We will cling to what we can
Though it is never what we sought.

When we spend our nights in darkness,
And so to with the day,
We must find ourselves a beacon,
A light to guide our way.

A bleak horizon. No sign of life
Save weak paw prints,
Etched light upon the white
Expanse of silence.
Boreal moon rising belies the violence
That had ensued.
One set of prints where once there were two.
Fallen prince among wolves
Arctic Gods have had their due.
As the wind howled, cried and blew
The hunter stopped and shuddered.
Wondered, about the beast he slew.
The wind cries once more.
The wind or the wolves?
He is no longer so sure.

Give a parent a website
And they will browse till their heart's content.
Teach them to use Google
And they will never bother you again.

Days are dark, nights lay long,
Burning bridges keep us warm.
Wearily walking this road again
We bare the weight of the tinder,
The whispers and the flame.

What was once,
Shall never be the same.
The past floats as ash
Shadows cast on fallen rain.
While the willows weep in vain
The canopies confer in koans
The wind is passing wisdom,
Through leaves and seeds unsown.

The evening seems to sing,
Choirs composed by currents
In obscure keys of humidity.
A lone songbird takes the lead,
Percussion provides ensemble trees.
While the very air we need to breathe
Suffocates, stifles, tries, and succeeds
To bleed the breath from laden lungs.
Throat pleads, begs, and bargains
To demi-gods and heathens,
Deities and demons,
Every creature beneath this sun.
Let this molten grip
Slip
If just for a note,
A beat,
A pause from the pressure.

Silence is a treasure
To be savoured not measured.
Sweet cadence of relief.

Once down the old Caledonian road,
There walked a broken man
Who walked all on his own.
Entombed in tattered cloak
Against Decembers cold,
The man fell to pavement
Fell to pavement all alone.

None would descend from
High misguided thrones,
Have a heart and pass the starving
Man a bone.
And not a soul would stop and save him.
Once down the old Caledonian road.

It's strange how this calligraphy
Instills an impression upon your mind.
What's true for me ain't true for all.
We each have our experiences
The meaning that we find.

Our lives aren't ours to abdicate
They belong in all the places that
We seek.
Love will peek
Round the corners of the chairs
We do avoid.
Whispering all our wants and needs
All shy and coy.

Speak them loud or none will hear you.
None will gather all your cloth into the storm.
Until it's yours.
So scream unto the heavans.
Declaring what is yours.
But that is no guarantee
That happiness will fall at your door.
You'll walk the road abandoned
Accompanied by a roar.

Tiny flame huddled close to fading wick,
A rag doll seized in the fist of a tempest.
Fading quick,
Wax molten in our grip.
Burning, viscous through trembling fingers it slips.
Knuckles crack like the fire in the hearth
Consuming logs uprooted from the earth
Giving birth to each ember on the mantle,
Dancing decay around subdued bowing candles.

Crying white tears upon the silent tables
The evening sneers at hush filled fables.
Horses bray in solemn stables
Dreaming of pastures new,
Wick snuffed out by daylights fingers
Flame made still by the morning dew.

One solemn clothes line
Battered in the gale.
Drenched and cold and sodden
Forgotten among the rain.

One stubborn clothes peg
That clings triumphant on the line,
Cursing the sky and tempest
As the last sock flies away sublime.

We shall sit upon our throne
In all its debauched desire.
Tapping beats upon the arm
Inwrought with gold and iron.

The court may sway
Curtains draped askew.
The courtiers façade
Shall fade anew.
Those lips that spewed
Sweet suckled honey dew
Shall slather and harden
As truth comes to view.

It comes not in words
Or sweet music to our ears
But rings from steel,
Sharpened by our fears.

I am a criminal,
So you and the papers say.
They would put me away
For countless nights and days.
Tucked away "safe" in jail,
All for the choice of herbs I inhale.
That they would only have their way...

Yet I am no marauding mobster,
No gangster for hire.
I smoke in the evenings
When daylight is fleeting
And withdraw to my rooms to retire.
I am no plundering pirate
Pillaging your private property.
I go about my day,
As right as I may,
You will find no evil protégée.  

I am spoken in the same breath
As delinquents and undesirables.
The infamously unfavourable,
Mire on our tireless society.
Well I am tired now,
Fatigued.
I've grown weary of living
In your narrow minded
Make believe.

Yet I leave you be.
Keep to mine and own.
It is you who lights the torches
From high deluded throne.
It is you who crafted and rounded
That perfect stone,
Hurled with such indiscrimination
Always many, never alone.

Each night now I wonder,
When I cross that imaginary line.
Such fools we've been,
The waste obscene,
Who really commits the crime?

We cling to dead air
Holding on to broken promises
And feelings that are not there.
We dwell on the scars
Carved with care across our heart.
Trying to place our finger on
The beginning of the end
Or the end of the start.

Our dearest departed
Left us used and disheartened.
While the sins of the father
Gave birth to disaster
Born in the shape of a man.
The harder we cling to shadows
The more we long for shade.
The more our grip shall weaken
As those we love slip far away.

Always pay your debts.
Whether it's money owed or
An apology.

If you were a god for a day
With the world in your hands,
To mould as clay,
Would you delay to start anew?
Wipe the slate clean
Bidding evil adieu.

Personally?

If it walks then let it run,
If it talks then let it sing,
If it flies then let it soar
Higher than it's ever been.
If if wanders let it roam,
If it absconds then leave it so,
If it dares then let it dream
That it is greater than it seems.
And if it all shall stumble
Shoulders once held firm
That start to crumble,
Under the weight of our
Burdened thoughts.
Then let those bones reform,
Skin sewn anew,
Or it shall forever be for naught.

I will turn today to yesterday!
So we can repeat the same mistakes;

In the bound loops of fires fury
Futile fight, hands cuffed by fate.

Beat the horizon of tomorrow today!
Sorrows washed and cast away,

Burning cleanse of sun's fell rays
Cast shadows on sun scorched glades.

Something lurks within the haze
Delays surrender of the sun,
The dark begins to march,
Parched earth drinks the night.

A pounding of the feet
Lets drink Guinness and eat red meat.
Blood flows freely in the streets,
Concrete dreams and broken teeth.
A token for the city
A token for the priest.
The least of all our sins
Wept, confessed, absolved.
Whispers born again in
The hollows of the walls.

There is so much anger in their hearts
That it's hard to feel much past
The rage that warms the path they walk.
Fueled by geothermic machinations
From within the mantled core.
The oceans act to sooth,
Calm the troubles of the land.
But their nature is transient
Moving in ways we will never
Understand

While Barking at the moon
Sense obscured by wilting foliage
Covering the clear thinking of the sky.
Clouding the eternal questions
And the sovereignty of the mind
                            Blown free                  
In the
           Slightest of br e e z e s
Where all the thoughts and ideas live,
Alive for a passing moment. Grasped quick
Or gone the way of water
           Lost somewhere out at sea.

You tell me to study hard,
Get a good job.
Be as sharp as a rat and you'll go far.
Make your money,
Settle down.
In that big city life
Or quiet country town.

You tell me rock and roll
Ain't worth trying for,
Yet its better than these religions
People keep dying for.
I don't want to line somebody else's pocket,
As they hoard their gold away
In a bank vault and lock it.

You tell me life is just one big joke
But I see nobody laughing.
People in gutters
Cold alone and broke
As so called stars sell their souls for
Diet Coke.

They are reflections of the world
We inhabit. Mirrored shards
Flung high into the air.
Sharing in all of beautys passion,
Caught in the lensflare of compassion
Bound to the refraction of selfless care.
Compounded with the crux of inaction.
Falling shards are somewhat sharp.

They tend to draw blood.

No fault of their own
For fault implies Blame
Blame implies control.

The arrow does not make the bow

When this mortal frame does falter,
If there be left a body still to burn
Cast my ash from the cliffs of Dover
For on the winds I shall return.
Though my soul may be lost to water,
Bones bleached and turned to dust
My heart will soar across the forests
Climbing mountains in the dusk.
Then as the daylight rises
And darkness gives way to light
I will cast these eyes, one last time,
Across the shores of life.

You will know them not from the smiles
And frowns etched upon stoic faces,
But from the virtue of their hearts
Found in all but the darkest of places.
More often then not they reside deep
Within a tepid grey.
Hunting in the twilight between the
Dusk and the day.
Everything in moderation
Yet nothing is in isolation
Moths to the flame we stray.
Bound to the light
Forever fighting to fly away

Echoes run amok.
Shadows of sound
Surround,
Then drown in rock.
The bleating of a flock,
Lost on familiar ground.
A shepherd led to slaughter
By his daughter he was found,

Proud.

Lame.

Eyes locked on long lost clouds,
The shroud that might hide his shame.