What Trees Mean To me

Nothing

I could live in the desert
I could live in the sea
I could live happily
Never seeing a tree

That's not to say
I don't enjoy
The seemingly
Endless trees
Within a tree

And
That's not to say
I don't enjoy
Many tree
Analogies

That's not to say
I wouldn't welcome
A breeze
And the shade
Of a tree
On a very hot day

But I could live in the desert
And I could live in the sea
I could live happily
Without
Ever seeing a tree
Or a daffodil

Sean Hunt
Windermere Oct 31st 2015

The mirage will end
I wonder when?
If I knew
What would I do?

Who would I see
Who would I be
If the time I had left
Were blessed

By mindfulness
And kindfulness
And tidying up
My mess


Sean Hunt   July 25 2017

When blame is the game
we’re floundering
upside down

When blame is the game
no one wins
everyone sins

When blame is the game
the ground we are on
is wrong

When blame is the game
scream at the stars
you won’t get very far

When blame is the game
go back to the start
and open your heart

When I finally die
losing me losing you
losing all the things I love to do
the only thing I might own
is my name carved in stone
if indeed someone plants me
like a silly seed
a mere name
claiming fame
but this will not last
for many years
It too will disappear
like a puff of cloud
or a candle blown out

“When will men be extinct?” .. BBC News

I will not gnash my teeth nor weep
When we become
An endangered species
(Once most men have 'gone beyond')

We live in
Suffering and slavery
With
Confused psychotic minds
Inhabiting a fallible
Frustrating
*****-trapped
Network of organic
Body-Time-Bombs
Stuck inside skeletal cages
With illegible end-dates

Some men fear death
I fear long life
(Perpetual life as an ordinary being
In an ordinary body)

If I could live forever
I would not want to be bound
To flesh or feather forever

I should send Steven Spielberg this script?

Sean Hunt  
2015 Somewhere in Scotland

We climbed some hills
then descended deep into
wild woods in the valley
where
we spent some scary time
debating our crimes
before climbing out slowly

Where are we now, my love?

We stumbled fumbled and fell
into the raging river
full of rocks
scraped by stones
beaten by bits of trees
Desperate for air
we almost drowned
before we crawled out
to sit on solid  ground

Where are we now, my love?

I am wondering why
we are still savoring
sour-tasting memories
of war games

We were headed somewhere
Do you remember where?

Where does inspiration come from
When there’s none where has it gone

Where do thoughts come from
When they go where have they gone?

Where do dreams come from
When they die where have they gone

Where does love come from
When there’s none where has it gone

Where do memories come from
When they leave where have they gone

Where do mothers come from
When they die where have they gone

Where do ideas come from
When there are none where have they gone

Where does death come from
One day it will be gone

Where is my poem
Where can it be found
Before it's written down
It cannot be found

Then when written down
And read by someone new
Do they read the poem
Read by me or you?

Is the title the poem
Or the first line
If you check you will see
It's not any single line

The poem's not a verse
The poem's not a word
The poem's not a salad
Of sounds that are heard

The poem is unfindable
Try, if you dare
You cannot point at it
Or find it anywhere

It may inspire some ire
You may burn it in a fire
Or place it in a gilded frame
To be read again and again

But!  If your poem is about a certain man
Be careful what you say
Assassins may come
And take your life away

Sean Hunt  
Windermere May 201

Where is 'New Year'
Now?
Where was it then,
When in happened
It went so fast
It didn't last long
And we can't
Remember it now
Anyhow

It didn't last
Long enough
For a song
Or a sigh
Or to say hello
Or goodbye

What's it all about
A burp and a shout
A wonderland
******* wish
For all to be wonderful
and well
forevermore

It didn't last
Long enough
For a song
Or a sigh
Or to say hello
Or goodbye

Where is 'New Year'
Now?
Where was it then,
When in happened
It went so fast
It didn't last long
And we can't
Remember it now
Anyhow

It didn't last
Long enough
For a song
Or a sigh
Or to say hello
Or goodbye

What's it all about
A burp and a shout
A wonderland
******* wish
For all to be well
With everyone
Measurably
Better than the past

That didn't last
Long enough
For a song
Or a sigh
Or to say hello
Or goodbye

Sean Hunt
Windermere
12:00 am January 1st 2015
New Year's Day

If you are a puzzle
Missing a piece
And wine
Makes the world
A fine place
Check to see
That the pool
Is not empty
Before you do
A swan dive

Where Is This Poem?

It may inspire some ire
Be burned in a fire
Or placed in a gilded frame
To be read again and again

But where is my poem
Before I write it down
I can look all around
It cannot be found

When written and read
By someone new
Do they read the poem
Read by me or you?

Is the title the poem
Or word number nine
If you check you will see
It's not in a line

The poem's not a verse
Nor is it a word
And it's not a salad
Of sounds that are heard

Try to point at this poem
It will dis appear
Into thin air
And not be found anywhere

A poem is a magic act
And that's a fact

Windermere January 29 2016

It may inspire some ire
be burned in a fire
or placed in a gilded frame
to be read again and again

But where is my poem
before I write it down
I can look all around
It cannot be found

When written and read
by someone new
do they read the poem
read by me or you?

Is the title the poem
or word number nine?
If you check you will see
it's not in a line

The poem's not a verse
nor is it a word
and it's not a salad
of sounds that are heard

Try to point at this poem
It will dis appear
into thin air
and not be found anywhere

A poem is a magic act
and that's a fact

Where is this WORD
Is it the W
No
Is it the O
No
Is it the R
No
Is it the D
No
These are parts of the
WORD
And not the
WORD
Maybe the collection
Of the parts is the
WORD
A collection of Things
That are not a Thing
Cannot be
A Thing
A collection of foxes
Cannot be a sheep
We will have to look
A little deeper
The WORD
Exists
As mere
Imputation
Or
Hallucination
As mere
Appearance
To mind
There is no WORD
To find

We were wondering which theme to choose
For next week’s poetry
Whether to pick seasonal spring
The meteorological quirks of Cumbria
Or possibly the wintry ‘weather’
Ever present in Great Britain

I wondered whether 
‘Weather’ and ‘whether’
Held more personal appeal
Being a working man Wordsmith
With apron and hammer
And a slight Irish stammer

Soon I was wondering whether
Others had been seduced
By this knife-edge theme
Of ‘weather’ and ‘whether’

I knew I was not the first
To wonder about whether and weather
So I began wondering about others 
Who had wondered about whether and weather
Then I found myself wondering whether
Others had wondered 
Whether others had wondered
About whether and weather

Then I stopped

Sean Hunt  
Windermere March 2016

Who? can't get it right, day or night
Who is black who is white
Who is never wrong and always right
Who is it only likes to play
But suffers every night and day
Who is it, thinks that they were born
Who is it feeds their unicorn

Not you, not me
Must be somebody
It's someone that we only find
Looking deep inside a mind
The room inside no one has seen
With a global IMAX screen
The little person in the chair
Sits and stares at light and air
He doesn't understand the 'deal'
He thinks his world is really real

There are no windows to his world
He's every boy, he's every girl
There is no night, there is no day
There is nowhere outside to play

He simply needs to close his eyes
And watch the screen inside his mind
Where he can choose to see
A movie called
....'Perpetual Tranquility'

Sean Hunt

Who does she see
when she doesn’t see me
and who do I see
who can this be
Ghosts and Phantoms
creeping about
underworld demons
causing confusion and doubt
Matrix monkeys
with hands full of spanners
going berserk
jamming the works
We don’t see with eyes
we see with our mind
and believe all the lies
of psychotic mankind

Why am I afraid to die
I wonder why
Do I really like it here
Living in the land
Of never-ending fear

Do I see beauty
Staring back at me
When I look into
The mirror of reality

Do I like
Roasting in the fiery
Pit of
Incessant desire

If I am afraid to die
Because I know
There are more horrid places
I could go
Then this would be
A valid reason
To explain
My fear of dying

Sean Hunt      Sept 15 2016

To dodge a bullet of blame
To pretend I've won a game
To protect an illusory self
From the eyes of everyone else

To turn away from a truth
To seem to be smooth
To defend my point of view
So no one can see through

To twist somebody's arm
To turn off an alarm
To take a pound or two
Maybe away from you

To protect my reputation
To cause a sensation
To play my ****** bail
To stay out of a jail

To paint a pretty picture
To get a little richer
To win a competition
To be a magician

Sean

Maybe poetry
Permits us some
Mastery
Of the wild
World of words

We can control
The chaos
The cacophony
Rein in our
Tendency
To
Absent-mindededly
Cantor
And rant

Control the flow
Make some sense
Of the non sense

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 21 2016

My mind is a window onto a world
that nobody sees but me
a moment to moment panorama
of people things and trees
(projected onto a screen that only I can see)

Lucid solid like a stone
I think it's really real
although I've known it's not
now for many many years

I must marvel at this magic show
as my world pops out of my hat
and learn to change the theme
of each and every act

Yesterday the rapids
were very very wild
Today I will try to ride
a river that is mild

I dreamed I was a wind walker
saw my mind smile
defied the law of gravity
each stride almost a mile

Effortless I flew
like wind or like sound
gliding through the air
an inch above the ground

Elation best describes
the feeling in my mind
liberated from the land
and the life I left behind

Winter
A waiting game
Every day seems the same
Winter
A waiting time
Waiting for weather to be fine

Earth holds her breath
During many short days
More long nights
And a rationing of light

Half the world held hostage
In suspense
Balanced on a knife-edge
Ledge of death

Until one day
When karma comes
Like a microwave
Radiating
Inside out
From the middle of the riddle
From the center of space
From the middle of the air
To everywhere

A sigh of relief
On half the globe
A sense of levitation
And deep appreciation
For the change
While the other half
Tenses in apprehension
Of their change
Sean Hunt  Dec 31st 2016

If the things we do never change
expecting something different
is a dangerous game
We may as well tell the sun to come out every day
or tell the rain and snow
to go and stay away

You plus me is never three
it’s always two
but we want the sum to be
something new
We may as well tell the sun to come every day
or tell the rain and snow
to go and stay away

Strange ideas that we have
a stranglehold on the old
wishing for something new
to somehow come true
We may as well tell the sun to come every day
or tell the rain and snow
to go and stay away

‘Cause everything that comes our way
is OK
Wishing and hoping
for things to stay the same
is a fool’s game
a losing game
because every thing will change

Ulverston Nov 2017

My best friend’s father  
was an apple farmer  
who said to his son  most days
“By the way  
we’ll double up today on the pesticide spray”

“Son double up today on the pesticide spray”  

Walter was a miser
who exterminated bugs
ignoring all the warnings
on the pesticide cans
He killed his son Wolfgang but this wasn’t his plan

“We’ll double up today on the pesticide spray”

When Wolf was forty-six
he was feeling very sick
and noone knew the reason
for his terminal disease
the explanation for this cancer causation

“We will double up today on the pesticide spray”

The surgeon asked Wolf
if he was ever exposed
in a significant way
to pesticide spray
It was then Wolf remembered what his father used to say

“We’ll double up today on the pesticide spray”

In his garden of eden
everything was free
My friend brought bags
of apples to me
I ate a few, my family too but many many more he ate from his trees

“Let’s double up today on the pesticide spray”

Just before Wolf died
Walter sat by his bed
To his wife Wolf whispered  
these words, he said
“I have nothing to say, tell him to go away”

“He doubled up every day on the pesticide spray”

May seem
Absurd
But where are
The words
You've heard?

From your empty mind
Find something to say
That has not yet been said
Find a bride
That has not yet been wed
A country not yet found
On this belching ball
Hurling through the universe
Find a secret never heard
In human words
And a riddle yet unsolved
By the wisdom
Of our sages
Through the dimness
Of the ages
Sign the unsignable
Find the unfindable
Send out the summons
For that child of a barren woman


Sean Hunt        Sept 2016

With every breath I take
there's a mistake that I make
My paradigm is wrong
nearly all the time
I think you are out there
and between us there is air
I’ve been mistaken
I've been wrong
for such a long time
My paradigm
is wrong
Now I know the truth
and I cannot blame
the foolishness of youth
I see the greyness in my hair
I've learned the wisdom
that is rare
Why do I still think
that you are out there
and between us there is air



Sean Hunt  May 18 2017

Beer bread and marmite
How would we live without it?
We let it ferment
for a few weeks
'til Janet returned
from Edinburgh

Yesterday and tomorrow
are strangers to me
like the things that I think
I see in a dream
Like plans that I made
when I was young
they're somewhere now
on the tip of my tongue
Like who I would be
when I grew up
someone worthy
of the world's
undying love
Ambitious methinks
the plan of mankind
to steer this world
to make it rhyme

When the lilt of your laughter
came through
the crystal glass
of clear cognition
I knew
your innocence

In the same way
that the face appears
in the gold
of the coin
I could see
the sysygy
of you
and me