perched on fir-tree, towering o'er fences,
its gold and scarlet delighting my senses,
his song piercing miasma o' reverie,
awakening the past, the shadow of memory

of years gone by, of years gone past,
of time that has run, away so fast,
a time when sadness had not yet intruded,
a time i lived, myself secluded

a time i passed through wild fields,
in morn of golden sunshine,
when rays of happiness pierced the shields
o' corporeal, to reveal the divine,

there in thickets, oblivious to man,
sings the goldfinch as only he can,
with black and red and beige of royalty,
as corporal general dressed flamboyantly

unaware of its own grandeur
twittering as skilled raconteur,
he ruled the air of my school days
and to this day sends forth his rays

one day a bee came to a flower
tickled stamens in pollen-shower
unbeknown, within pistill,
began a fruit of tree distill

And after many years gone-by,
that fruit's seed had formed new tree
with leaves and flowers and branches high
and plentifold nectar for busy bee.

One day a man performs a deed
a deed has fruit, good goodness breeds,
and from that little point of light
will blossom stars to transform night

one little act may bear a sun
that may henceforth be the one
to turn humanity to change course
to fill the world with new force

smile to a stranger,
be kind at home,
you may be a changer
that change will roam

remember it's not just about you
it's how after many years are through
your act will have coloured in ways untold
the lives of many, a million-fold.

scattered fireflies
wandering sheep
windows of a thousand cries
that make the angels weep

silent in the night
meandering in your flight
yet set course traverse G-d's haven
deepest velvet, black as raven

secrets of a million years
laughter of a thousand tears
stars that guide the world's affairs
from afar on unawares

Oh, the grand old Duke of York
He lost his right to the crown
he did something he didn't do
[woops!] and dropped his trousers down

And when they were up, they were up
And when they were down, they were down
And when they were only half-way up
They were neither up nor down

Oh, the grand old Duke of York
He eyed another's skirts
He did something he didn't do
And couldn't get rid of the dirt

And when they were up, they were up
And when they were down, they were down
And when they were only half-way up
They were neither up nor down

Oh, the grand old Duke of York
He lost 40 million crown
he met someone he never met
And let his country down

And when they were up, they were up
And when they were down, they were down
And when they were only half-way up
They were neither up nor down

Yes, the grand old Duke of York
He hid in his mother's skirts
When he did something he didn't do
And couldn't get rid of the dirt

Yay, that grand old Duke of York
He hired the best law men
He marched them up to the top of the hill
And he marched them down again

And when they were up, they were up
And when they were down, they were down
And when they were only half-way up
They were neither up nor down

Yes, that grand old Duke of York,
He had 10 million quid.
He gave it to someone he never met,
For something he never did.

[all together now:]
And when they were up, they were up
And when they were down, they were down
And when they were only half-way up
They were neither up nor down

Oh, the grand old Duke of York
Caught with royal pants down
When he did something he didn't do
And lost his right to the crown

And when they were up, they were up
And when they were down, they were down
And when they were only half-way up
They were neither up nor down

There once was a rare flower
A bloom that flourished in shade
Few could see its power
And that's how it might have stayed

For its planter derived pleasure
From floweret's love for obscurity
And as a golden treasure
Delighted in the bud's soft purity

but within the perennial's gene
there was a cancerous spot
a desire to be known as queen
to be recognised and not forgot

so there came a well-meaning person
who beheld the bloom's beauty
and opened it up to light and sun
thinking he was doing his duty

he wished all to benefit from its sweetness
all be blest by its aroma
for he'd not appreciated its discreetness
true secret of its persona

for the secret of its pulchritude
of its grace and its allure
was its modesty in its attitude
which kept it chaste and good and pure

and so the flower that once was
a bloom of rarefied scent
withered because of one faux-pas
and its own malcontent.

many a winter and summer passed
since the flower had stopped blooming
as by-and-by it became overcast
other foliage, it subsuming

but slowly within the darkness again
it awakened and started thriving
this time it'd learnt to contain
detrimental want and driving

to let its nature bloom 'n flourish
while none knew its charm 'n grace
and its concealment would it nourish
in its small secluded place

for there are souls destined 'n made
to act as king or queen or ruler
whilst others must act within the shade
'n thus know their loving Jeweller

As car must have a steering wheel
an axle, brakes and engine
as a person has a heart and a heel
a brain, veins and tendon

so the world of souls contains
the hidden and the visible
and this world has many planes
of Unity indivisible

each soul is perfect and complete,
with radiance incomparable
and no soul need with other compete
for its uniqueness irreplaceable.

words drip with oil
ooze fat, as spirit dies.
the flow of light
like earthy chunk
smashed out of skies,
wet and weary,
plunges into the sea
in blood of gargoyle
smatter'd 'n spat
o'er crimson splattered highs.

still, the dead fight
o'er trunks empty of thighs,
once a huckster's prize
****** at humanity
now tired 'n bleary
floating as spoil,
a corpse, blinkered by lies,
blind eyes, no longer leer
stare in insanity,
at demise of humanity.

he watched the tea in rapture
as the milk in swirling spiral
as the curling column'd vapour
fought in vain for its survival

wraiths numinous dissipate
could not would not participate
in wretched game o' nature's abuse
placing world in hanging-noose

so he downed the tea
spirit long gone
as Zyklon-B
couldn't hang on

now nothing's left
of brown micturition
passed through gill-cleft
in natural tradition

what does it feel like
to be victim of abuse?
pushed 'gainst ****
life-story to lose
not recognising self
one's own gravity
no floor 'neath one's feet
self-identity
sense of perception
up in the air
sense of connection
reduced to a scare
nothing positive
save other's narrative
forget meritorious,
you think no-one's worse,

trampled 'n suffocated,
stir-crazy, deflated,
lose desire to live
no goodness to give.
go tell your mother
your sister, your brother
no-one believes
what you go through
everyone's deceived
perhaps even you
all looks so nice
on the surface
jam-cake with ice
and lip-service
but there's little on earth
that's more bitter
than to be constant mirth
'n no strength to quit her
that's the story
of emotional abuse
i'd tell you more
but there's no real use.

Aromas sweet of sherbet smell
Lily-o'-vale softest parget
Among the lightest blue harebells
Danced the fairies on lilac carpet

As river-current's shimmering wave
Shafts of golden sunlight
Bewitched the purple feys' enclave
Of pixies, elves and sprite

Dappled sun in woodland dell
Afore the hours o' nighttime fell
Like magic chessboard o' bluebell
'Twas the place the little folk dwell

In rolls of sky-blue tapestries
Checkered piebald mauve
Beneath the oak and hazel trees
'Mongst herb-robert 'n foxglove

There dwelt the wood-nymph fairie queen
With yellow hair and gown of green
Eyes dark-black and lofty mien
Spoke of things hidden, unforeseen.

She whispered as the seashell talks
As the soft tread of lovers' walks
As the windswept Dover chalks
As the wings of buzzard hawks.

There she taught the secret tune
Of eternal life, nature's boon,
'Twas the song of midnight moon
Whitest sphere of silver strewn

It was the song of constant yearning
Constant running and returning
She said it kept the earth-sphere turning
'Twas the secret of sages learning.

Then as the twilight spread its shadows
As the creeping water primrose
As the buttercup o' green meadows
As the dying in death's throes

Then I heard no more her whisper
Perhaps it was the water stream
Or the ripple of the river
Livened by the white moonbeam.

he doff'd his cap, all suave and urbane,
i am the idol you serve in vain,
i am the recognition of people around,
ephemeral honour to which you are bound,
as you can see i'm nothing but air
it's all in your mind. I'm not really there.

Eyes black,
Watching my back,
Gun acock,
Face a rock.

Oh, so gracious,
To friends, loquacious,
Bowing deeply,
Ever so meekly.

Words sebaceous,
Ever vivacious,
Smiling sweetly,
"I am .. uniquely.. "

But, spouse salacious,
Being-mendacious,
Do you not know
What I undergo?

So fallacious,
Power-voracious,
Flirtatious, audacious,
Make us or break us.

he leant down and tousled the hair
of young son, unaware
of father towering high above
showering him with love, with love

preoccupied, boy didn't react
to paternal act of love
so father's hand made fresh contact,
and gave said son a loving shove

till finally, he lifted his eyes,
and looking up he saw the skies
there he recognised the wondrous wise
sparkling tenderness of father's eyes

there he found his father's smile
sweeter than angelic beguile
father saying, 'its been a while,
let's sit together and reconcile'.

i saw him once at age of four
he bade me wine to drink galore
and then again at five years old
to scribe my name in figures bold
black upon the outside bench
got spanked for that 'n left a stench
then if my memory serves me right
at age of nine on eraser white
uncomplimentary homage to my teacher
to write he bade whereupon appeacher
swift to headmaster sent me in fury
but too afraid of one-man jury
he bade me fabricate pathetic tale
of his absence when i went to jail

lies and deceit [seemed to] have coloured my years
for now in sweetest memory appears
marking of my own homework
in red paint while I duties shirk.
thus, in twilight as old i grow
i'm frightened of my grey shadow
the falsehood has become my own
part of flesh and part of bone
can i correct this wayward soul
and fly towards the divine goal?
methinks must use mercurial self
warts 'n all, angel and elf,
in ad hoc program to do good deed
and so transform this wayward steed

and comfort take in this small truth
that memory is a no-good sleuth
takes delight in remembering bad
but scarce commemorates good times had
so yes, sweet devil, you've been here,
i've done your bidding since toddler year
but higher angel i've followed you too
galumphing on in ways few knew
G-d alone will weigh the scales
for He sees the whole with all details

I see another and think i'm better,
tying my ankles with shackle and fetter,
the pride vile not allowing advance,
for fear of someone looking askance

at what i do, perhaps not perfect
enough to feed my self-respect
or rather my need to be correct
in eyes of the world, in extrospect

the chocolate in jar, the biscuit in tin,
i'm not free o' greed, or lustful sin,
constant hankering after the superfluous,
and hidden darkness i daren't discuss

and when i see a person succeeding
who in my eyes is exceeding
the heights i've reached or attained
it's envy to which i'm sorely chained

enveloped in physicality,
the gluttony that is in me,
venality and carnality
forgetting spirituality,

when awakens the righteous spark
wrath is stirred in seeing the dark
in others that me seduces
though mine own, i've plenty excuses

but sloth is my overriding guilt
that puts a stop to anything built
crowning me in crown of thorns
to decorate those devilish horns

to shrive i yearn, to be assoiled,
to rid me finally of the soiled
raiment of my spirit 'n soul,
to fly unhindered to my goal.

my dove,
I still remember - the day I found you
your perfume wafting o'er distant waters,
i smelt you from afar,
frankincense, myrrh, myrtle o' young daughters.

beloved,
you came to me from afar.
Time had no meaning, as you held me in your love,
You gazed at me,
your pure eyes calling me dove.
But now you're gone.
And life has lost its meaning.

my dove,
i let you go,
i let you fly over many waters.
i deemed it wiser -- for us both
but my dove, i love you still.
and i'm still here, on the hill.

beloved,
till hoary days i'll remember your voice
though they look at me askance
in simulacrum of life,
they ask me to dance
to tune of flute 'n fife
but i hear not,
for i cannot, save in you, rejoice.

Silent, grey,
Memories call,
Bodies decay,
Spirits enthral.

Forest of stones,
Soldiers *****,
Markers of bones
Command respect.

Here, a soul,
In shadow, hides,
Tries to console
Young widow-bride.

There, a spirit,
of little merit,
dallies in grit,
whit to inherit.

Sobbing, a child
Kneels by her father,
Lips that once smiled
Buried before her.

Love-blind groom
Aches for his partner
Asleep in her tomb,
Asleep to his ardour.

Sighing tears,
Wind and rain,
Love and fear
Entwine the twain.

And gravel and grass
Watch from afar
as death and life dance
with bid, 'au revoir'.

****** softness,
Angelic colour,
Gentle to taunt us
Queen of Summer.

Still she rises
Golden wonder,
Shows her prizes
Makes me younger.

Pink's too ordinary,
It's more lavender,
Heaven's emissary,
Beauty's avatar.

Aroma intoxic,
Sweetest optic,
First Rose in Spring,
Thou art everything.

Let's take a tour of the Zodiac signs,
On each month, we'll scribe two lines

Aries Sun has zest and verve
A quarrel with him takes a nerve

Taurus Sun's down to earth
to change his mind's like giving birth

(Original:
Gemini Sun's social and fickle
Rely on him and you're in a pickle)

Gemini Sun's social and flexible
Friendly, affable, intelligence incredible

Cancer Sun's moody, insecure
Sensitive to a fault 'n slightly obscure

Leo Sun's loyal, a good worker,
Idealist, noble, rarely a shirker

Virgo Sun's responsible and practical,
exacting, self-critical, not always tactical

Libra Sun wants peace at any price,
refined, sociable, and really, very nice

Scorpio Sun, now there's a challenge,
Intense, willful, he'll always manage

Sagittarius Sun's cheerful and friendly,
though mind their anger, can be deadly

Capricorn Sun's hard-working, societal,
Mostly reliable though obstinately practical

Aquarius Sun goes off beaten track,
Idealistic, social, they'll usually have your back.

Pisces Sun's deep, if somewhat lymphatic,
dreamy idealist and slightly erratic

And herein ends our brief excursion
Hope you enjoyed are astral version

i reached out and touched him
watched as he crumbled
as the grey and rusty sandstone
once steep palisade, humbled
by the winds of dark moon blown
by the crashing waves of centuries,
beleaguered, soul lay by my feet,
swamped by painful memories
as if praying for defeat
whimpering and helpless
waves of cruel deceit
had his light dimmed.

to save him i knew
i'd have to reach within
kindle anew
the flame, 'neath calloused skin
scarred and hardened
by whips and word,
by wounds unpardoned,
by cries unheard,
extinguished by the flippant
the abuse intermittent
festering and rankling
his essence strangling
but i could only loosen
the snake round his neck
he had to see the human
beneath the wreck on deck.

Coat whiter than face of moon
amber eyes of sinister tune
whistling hail and winds of ice
Lord Winter's Paradise

He shook his frosted grisly mane,
clawed the earth and roared,
eyed Queen Autumn with disdain,
barred teeth spat, 'I'm bored'.

'why must i procrastinate,
linger in this state?
days will soon be lengthening
veins of warmth strengthening.'

'there'll be life and trees of different shape,
unevenness abound,
a multi-coloured landscape
and colour on the ground.'

'cut me free and let me rule
i'll paint the vista white,
a multi-faceted diamond jewel
that'll blind you with its light.'

the Queen gave royal chortle
spun round without a qualm
'I am like you immortal
and have eternal charm'.

'i'll keep you tied till last leaf
has fluttered to the ground,
and then your reign will be but brief
for my sister must be crowned.'

'As you'll see, she'll brook no nonsense,
for Queen of Spring is she
so when you spy the purple crocus
and Lily-of-the-Valley

peeping through your nival blanket
you'll know her time has come,
she'll want to share her banquet
with warmth from golden sun.'

'she'll shoo you from her place
no sign of lenity
for though benign in name and grace
she'll show no leniency.'

'but i know i need not tell you,
you know her better than me,
for Lady Spring is your shrew,
your wife for eternity.'

in a crevice of the earth
beats a heart
like a newborn babe at birth
at the start
as new life emits a gurgle
and a cry
prepares to jump the hurdle
or to die

so the snowdrop lifts its sleepy head
from beneath its snowy spread
a revival from the dead
at the edge of flower-bed

its flash of white
like moon in night
augurs sight
of colours bright

as Artist starts anew
His canvas set and true
no imprecise slapdash
or impotence 'n backlash

for here He blends true harmony
the plant, the flower, the bird, the tree,
and all combine and music sing
in herald of [the] season spring.

sagacious soul
spirit with goal
longs to ascend and unite

disorientated drunk
beat as salt junk
daylight as dark night

with left-handed shove
and right handed love
I'll mollify corporeal sprite

then as sweet-heart and darling
the dove with the starling
shall consummate heavenly rite

together as one
G-d's favourite son
shall shine the Infinite's light

the world once more
transparent door
to Love that is hidden and bright

more than the sun
at height of its run
transforming all pain and all blight

to peace everlasting
passionate soul's asking
the light of the day in the night

a s sweet innocence stares
g host of blackened sin
h aunts the universe
a ttacks the soul within
s oft, gentle tiptoe
t urns to shout and blow

a nd no-one bats an eyelid
g oes to save the kid
h elps the untouched soul
a gainst the gaping hole
s ucking in the piety
t o satiate society

a ghast divinity shivers
g asps for inner light
h ungers for Caregiver
a midst the ghouls of night
s inking in black river
t he tears of human blight

not upon the concrete structure
nor in the roar of man
the etiquette of modern culture
or governmental plan

nor in the sound of raw cascade
of rocks or shining water
in mountain hills, 'pon forest glade
nor in the lightening slaughter

of lions 'gainst their weaker prey
of men against each other
in steepled church of moral decay
'midst hugs of strangled brother

but in the breath of sweetest child
that whispers to his God
in humility of person mild
that lets himself be trod

in the vapour of the nothing
in your heart upcurled
there the word of God Who's loving
there the base of world

Will e'er that wave be seen again,
royalty in the flesh,
duty coursing in blue blood vein,
eyes smiling, ever fresh?

did ever loyalty to a nation
better to its god coalesce
than in this woman of higher station,
impeccable manners and dress?

through constant batter from the press
through broadside and invective
never ever gave in to stress
never lost perspective

never bent before harasses
laconic maligning from guys 'n lasses
unkind comments from the masses
as they peered through vergrößern glasses

flagship to her people
a tower and a steeple
stood ramrod straight as maypole
shining love rays from a sun-soul

now the fluttering flag's at half-mast
as she's lowered into ground
as the thousands rally past
as her son is newly crowned

exponent of her christian faith,
substantive, positive hope
now pure essence, elusive wraith,
gone in swift elope

Never again will we see that wave,
so true and fast and pure.
for duty now waves from the grave
on stone for e'ermore.

softer than the ocean sand
caressed by moonlight tender
the skin of my beloved
radiant with cherub's splendor

deeper than woodland pools
bluer than the skies
the wellsprings of my jewel's
cerulean, emerald eyes.

untouched as yon ****** soil
innocent as newborn calf
Like buttered cream, wine and oil,
His comments and epitaphs

As a thousand rainbows bright
'Midst gloom cloud 'n dark 'n sorrow
Like electric flash of whiter light
that heralds the new morrow

Is the laughter of my boy
that washes away my tears
the fountain of my love and joy
my son of nine years.

the voice He whispers in words unsaid
in the breeze 'pon barley heads
in the air amongst the leaves
there the One, His spirit weaves

in the water, in the forest,
in the glistening fur of fawn,
the shades of green as window florist
in the stillness of the dawn

'speak to me', i hear him whisper
in the voice of unsaid words
in the spirit of the Drifter
'midst the song of singing birds

hidden from all, as riverbed
far beneath the murky water,
where the shy young otters tread,
there He hugs His only daughter

there He whispers words unsaid
as we drift away from shore
hearts abeat as newly wed
as He lets my spirit soar

Am I dead yet?
Killed complete?
Without knife or bayonet,
Life taken, discreet?

Is what was, no longer?
Did she the fire extinguish?
Have I lost to the warmonger?
Soul perished in anguish?

Yes, the drummer still beats
With rhythm sweet,
But it's faint and retreats,
As a distant bleat.

I'm not gone yet,
There is a flame,
E'en extinguished cigarette
Can still inflame.

I believe still,
A fire can ignite,
As spring daffodil
On a building-site.

Don't give up hope,
Don't slide the *****,
If she still hurts,
There's sweet deserts.

Keep on fighting,
Try your best,
Know her biting
Is the acid-test.

Air, transparent nothingness,
Sustaining life with lovingness,
Shining fairie confronting us,
Embracing us, loving us.

Sweet oxygen and nitrogen,
Carbon dioxide 'n hydrogen,
Awe-inspiring leviathan,
Vitalising Heineken.

I take a look at the Word of the Day
And I honestly don't know what to say,
Or to put it in another way,
I'm nonplussed about the word today.

But that doesn't mean I can't make a rhyme,
if somewhat crass 'n not too sublime,
and I've kept the beat in this wonderless chime,
So here's my offering, offered in time.

"it's the swolgamouth", he said,
"and i thought he was dead!
he's clearly gone ahead
and on my swoth he's fed".

"a swolgamouth?", i challenged,
"are you quite unbalanced?"
"You mean a sort of moth
is feeding on your swoth?"

"a moth?", he cried, "why, no!",
giving his nose a blow,
"It's a type of bendigo!
I'm surprised you didn't know."

"A bendigo?", I quoth,
"you mean a type of sloth?
but, I say, in troth,
sloth don't feed on swoth!"

"the bendigo", he said,
with exaggerated composure,
but he seemed to lower his head
as he made the grave disclosure

and his eyes darted left 'n right
that he wasn't overheard
and shrank back in affright
at cry of flying bird

"Why it's", but then was silence,
as he vanished from my view,
it seems the bendigo tyrants
had him taken as their due.

a million cries in one tear
dropped into a yawning crevice
take your time to lend an ear
or else be part of that abyss

a million cries in one tear
that formed the oceans long ago
as men blind in life career
its waters rush to and fro

in its movement hides a sigh
a yen for haven long ago
when all was one, the heavens high
with dust and creatures down below

that ocean's tides, the ebb and flow,
is yearning for that status quo
can still be heard in your heart
so still a moment, be a part

of that oneness, spirit that's singing
proclaiming plainly, loud and clear
of those million cries still pinning
to join together in that One big tear.

it took me years to form this being
instilled in him wisdom, sense for seeing,
a heart to feel others' emotions,
deeper than the deepest oceans,
to deal kindly, invoke my name,
see my love and do the same.

planted him in world so beautiful,
with mountains high, volcanoes' crucible,
lakes and rivers, birds and creatures,
a world of such divinic features

my only son, i begged of him,
kissing on brow i said to him
this world entrusted to your care
fire, water, earth and air,
i trust that you'll walk in my way
creating beauty from disarray

i still hope and long, son of his father,
will grow up, mature, cease to slaughter,
nature to nurture, loving to be,
he, my prince, my family.