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.

a word danced in my mind
held out its hands, 'come dance with me',
called its friend, another word,
and then another, which made three.

Before I knew it, there they were,
ten dancing words on a page,
they formed a sentence, then a rhyme,
tapping time as on a stage

a dance, a ring,
as song they sing,
with lilt and lill
and jig 'n spring

then, of a moment, all was still,
no swirl of smiling prose or thrill,
a hush that said there'd never been
the tap of words as in a scene

as in a play of imagination
of cerebral recreation
just wet ink from my quill
like numbers on a shopping bill

from automated teller machine
standing fixed as ordered marines
letters silent as a winter night
the magic gone, taken flight,

waiting, waiting, for magic breath,
to rouse them into life from death,
when, once again, as talisman,
they'll sing music as no man can.

his snow white beard filled the room
with angel-like consistency,
a sage of everlasting bloom
of ceaseless work 'n industry

indefatigable humour and wit,
a dryness that refreshed 'n bit,
always himself, running from honour,
could never be he'd be a goner

yet now i see a blanket black
set o'er coffin with hearse
can it be, he'll never come back,
within this life of years

but though his mortal frame is gone,
i see and feel his presence,
he's closer now that he's moved on,
a part of Omnipresence.

January. Cold, wintry and bleak.
Cat killed a pigeon, talon and beak.

February.  Tree waking from sleep.
Found a few slugs under wood-heap.

March. Silky catkins and a hint of leaf.
Blackbird warns of a magpie thief.

April. Blossoms-pink, yellow and white.
Radishes growing ready to bite.

May. Greens and purples, a haze of colour.
Spring a-beckoning to Mother Summer.

June. World is abuzz with sound of living,
Bees and butterflies, taking and giving.

July. My, it's hot! Cherries galore.
Fox chestnut-brown scraped at my door.

August. Clear skies, velvety blue,
Saw buzzards chasing red-kite as it flew.

September. The ending of sweet summer-harvest,
Judging whose potatoes turned out the largest.

October. Runner-beans bid adieu.
Stone squirrel 'lone on grey patio.

November. Tree losing last leaf of autumn,
Golden mulch carpets, browns and aurum.

December. Bare branch, bowed 'n buried.
Snow gave a shiver, 'n winked as he tarried.

moving mass morphed myopic
homogeneous heaving humanity
killed 'n culled in catastrophic
hatred, hostile enmity

six million souls pulled together,
stuffed into a devil's mouth
reached out from the nether
to quench unending drouth

red-brick nostrils belched black smoke
blood dripp'd from barbed fangs
in iron fist a throat did croak
emaciated body now lifeless hangs

still the cavern was not filled
still his hellfires burnt and grilled
till there was no man left breathing
save a mound o' skeletons wheezing

and 'neath the pile of thousand shoes,
'neath heaps of bodies, black and bruised,
'neath the filth, the stench'd refuse
earth wept wet for those lost Jews

what is this that grips my senses
its magic grasp inveigling,
the mauves, the reds, as blood of ******,
as fairest ****** beguiling

depths of salmon orange,
the deepest, velvet pinks,
bid me pay them homage
as Pharaoh to his Sphinx

i gaze in heartfelt wonder
and touch her deepest secrets,
scented lightning, silent thunder,
quenching soul with her streamlets

of ever transient virility
of flower of fertility,
her arrows o' Cupidian agility
blushing unashamed fecundity

words cannot paint your beauty,
or describe eternal mystery,
they cannot do their duty
unlock thine vernal divinity

father of child
bent over 'n smiled
bound with love
at his li'l dove

human umbrella
shelters the child
poor little fella
will ne'er be 'conciled

death wrought the air
tore it with scare
ended a life
too soon afterlife

blood on side-walk
on wall pasted
once laughed and talk'd
now spilt 'n wasted

new scar to be healed
new anger revealed
a killer's fate sealed
by dead human shield

'thud', 'thud', ground's a-quakin'
earth around, i see it shakin'
sure the two-leggeds are a-comin'
making ma heart in me a-drummin'

'Ere they com, hoity-toity,
think that they're so high-'n-mighty,
i'll squawk in-face 'n i'll get flighty
show the missus i'm alrighty.

thinks they own the world, they do
they don't own me, lemme tell you,
give a few squawks and they're a-runnin'
doubt they'll be back for a second-comin'!

twisted, gnarled, bent he stood,
ebony brown, of burled wood,
humble creature of tortured form,
hillside weathered through life of storm

battered by the highland gales
that swept the sweet and sunny dales,
contorted by the skies' assails
that hit and pounded as wind to sails

crushed, not broken, zoetic substance
gave new meaning to reluctance
as it withstood those blasts of dread
that left its brothers broken 'n dead

i lent against its ancient bark
to hear its secret of immortality
how to survive when all is dark
when you be victim of brutality

i heard its voice in rustled leaf,
in soft breeze and zephyr,
perchance the whisper of forest nymph
or murmur of the satyr

its voice was as a swaying sheaf,
its song was joy and not of grief,
its message true, profound and brief,
shibboleth that is nature's motif

it whispered of that low, sweet root,
from which all heavenly virtues shoot,
"The bending low before the brute
enabled me give forth my fruit".

ever seen a restless lion,
impatient, antsy, a lion on-edge,
roaring at his bars of iron,
longing for the rocky ledge

yearning for the arid savanna
the sweet smell of savage hunt
the scuffle with the young hyaena,
the vanquished's final grunt

ever seen the tired ape
the depressed orang-outang
lying captive, a worn-out cape
benumbed from all pain or pang

lost all hope of hanging branches
the overgrown Amazon marshes
forgotten the delights of the wild
the call of tribe and his sister's child

ever seen a prisoner's despair
locked away from all society
his loss of self-worth and self-care
his state of mental inebriety

once-gregarious reduced to staring
never hears the music blaring
a listless, languid, brainless zombie
outside world inane cryptography

ever seen your mate in club
your chum-friend at the local pub
smiling, laughing, without a care,
taking part in truth-or-dare

beneath the outer charm and suaveness
calmness of a Greek Adonis
lies a restless, confounded soul,
prisoner with no parole

lies an intelligence rattling the bars
peering out through aged scars,
muffled, muted by cruelest medicine,
fated eternal jail denizen

longs to escape to outside world,
break the bars, flag unfurled,
but as those captives in the zoo
has lost all hope of living like you.

the predator stands at point of vantage,
back to the wall to its advantage
eyes sweeping the world its stage
anxious to take its next hostage

perhaps as child they were bitten and hurt
kicked in the dust, trod in the dirt,
so they learnt to **** before they're hurt
rather than softly self assert

can they be blamed for being the wolf
when inside they're terrified of being stepped on
of being putted as a ball in golf
into dark hole, where they're dead and gone

so they kvell to see their victim fall
as they stand alert, with back to the wall,
it's their ******, their cortisol,
'cos inside is bitter, poisonous gall.

though saints there are and holy men too
beware of the priest that bows too low
for his overt servility makes fool of you
as he treads upon unwary foe

for in his eyes, the layman and laic
are way beneath his dignity
just placed there to create mosaic
'gainst which to display his divinity

raucous music fills the air
loud images shout
jarring sounds of "i don't care"
fill the streets about

bromide for the masses
dulls enfeebled senses
as the Jews in gases
abandoning defences

breathing **** and lewd for food
***** for the multitude
constant noise blocks out dispute
till you're lying destitute

We crave recognition
Because it's our mission
To gain admission
To G-d's acquisition

The problem starts
When outside our hearts
We look to the charts
Others to outsmart

Peer within
You'll soon begin
To know wherein
Lies true linchpin

Of the worth of your deeds
Sort the flowers from the weeds
To grow the seeds
That goodness breeds

Then, will no longer
Ye seek yonder
Desire 'n hanker
Respect 'n honour

True satiation
Comes from good occupation
Self-examination
G-dly communication

With self-respect
You'll not be subject
To feeling neglect
From peers' reject.

With behaviour exemplary,
Love and empathy,
You'll experience redemptory -
Life's true nectary

there once was a lad from Hungary
who was a dab hand at trumpery
oft a quote
that never was wrote
he made into hagiography

one day he went too far
and quoted his wife's mama
as saying her daughter
next to the altar
looked like a black Madonna

said in-law to him that's true
but it wasn't her, 'twas you,
in your tuxedo
and French libido
like balsam o' peru

if i hadn't known 'twas you
i'd have thought you an evolving gnu,
so stop writing lies
or you'll get a surprise
as my daughter wishes you adieu

i rattle the bars of my cage
prowl back 'n forth with inner rage

but the metal is mirage
mind construct, subconscious montage

imprisoned by my vision
hear echoes of derision

a ****** of indecision
failing in life's mission

child crafted
thought incumbent
on matter grafted
dross recumbent

child nurtured
by prevailing notions
often kerchered
by doting devotions

child waxes
in social arena
a leaf on axis
as spinning ballerina

child matures
on social mores
as plant secure
on horse manure

when as adult
he follows the cult,
as vogue and fashion
become his passion

or when he supplants
through his advance
incumbent president
or chief resident

and then proceeds to wreck havoc
on age-old values, agent satanic,
it's very difficult to point one finger
on nature or nurture as harbinger

but one things for sure
and that's freewill,
child starts pure,
child won't ****.

there's a step, different to all,
that gives him a chance to rise or to fall,
and that's why, when all's said and done,
a person's responsible for the life he's spun.

soft upon the earth i crept
and listened with my ear
when all a sudden before me leapt
a man as musketeer

he was not more than a foot
in height from toe to head
and roundabout his body put
a gown of lily-red

the musket was, i do believe,
from grass or stick or ****,
and on his head was placed a leaf
that looked like Harris Tweed

he bade me listen well to him
for words of true import
he looked right earnest, chin so grim,
that i did myself comport

and when i heard of the plight
the things that he foresaw
i do confess of the fright
the horror and the awe

that gripped me as in a vice
made me cold as a cadaver
until he offered some advice
as he ended his palaver

he said we always have a choice
wherever we may be
and we can always use our voice
to change humanity

those words he whispered like the wind
as he told of things to be
and afterwards he bowed and grinned
and vanished as banshee.

ethereal spirit,
grey transparency,
saintly glow,
stood by me

its salient crescent
i wouldn't hear,
i turned my head
from silent steer,

yet always I pray,
spirit ethereal
hear me today,
support my fall

take my hand
lead me out
help me stand
'n be devout

so in dark hour
devil's lour
importunate
devilish bait

when i'm caught
in his lair
every thought
in his snare

don't stand
in entreat
pull me out
from the peat

tweet goes the bird
cow follows herd
vulture feeds on dead
lice **** blood from head

man alone boasts
i rule from coast to coast
makes hero out of ghosts
proclaims he's king of hosts

cultured and accomplished,
diction clear 'n polished,
superior, none like me,
save aliens, likely likely

i'll splash millions exploring mars
discover planets and more stars
shout into space for all i'm worth
as millions suffer here on earth

because i'm intelligent and so caring
and life is all about giving and sharing
so i'll dump my refuse on some backward land
and when they cry, i'll lend them a hand

i'd never do anything at someone's expense,
whatever i do makes absolute sense,
so let's get on with the pretence
and speak up loud in man's defence

Dip your brush in crimson letters,
Add a dab of red-gold blush,
Paint a landscape of upsetters,
Those who need a soul to crush.

Those of hollow form of flesh
Those whose soul has left 'n fled
As they seek out weak to thresh
Till last drop of blood has bled

Here a sphere o' fire setting
'Midst a blood-hued sky,
There the haunting silhouetting
Tree with branches high.

Grasping, scratching air ephemeral,
Swaying to the sounds of death,
Knocking at the gates empyreal,
Clutching at pure babies' breath.

The dead not-living swarm like dusk
Crushing sweetest sprout
Winnowing ripe corn from husk
Winnowing the life-force out

Hear the hunted sheep begetting
Howl and wail and cry,
Watch the darting bats bloodletting
As Lord Life slips by.

Covered by dark guise of nature,
Everlasting bides his time
Safe as no nomenclature
Can guess his pantomime

let's do it, i said
i'm a bona fides reprobate
let's call up the dead
arouse Mother Fate

we dressed ourselves purple
like butterflies and birds
sat in a circle
said all the words

in mix of drama and derring-do
we painted a pentagon in electric blue
lit red candles and turned down the light
and waited and waited the whole --- night

then just before dawn
as i stifled a yawn
as if in a blur
i saw something stir

at first I thought
'twas imagination
but then i was sure
it was a visitation

the hairs stood up on the back of my neck
my heart beat faster as i thought 'what the ----'
my arms 'n legs froze as if inert,
though all o' my senses were really alert

inky, metallic, with glinting eyes
hooded, unworldly, as if taken by surprise
air of sinister, darker affairs,
unaware of all our fixated stares

it came on slowly, unsure at first,
then started forward, as if coerced
as if beckoned by unseen power,
by spirits o' nefarious witching hour

black and hardened were its wings
fixed on its back like two locked springs
a mouth vacant with open pincer
with an odd click like meat-mincer

bamboozled by the circle of candles
the black anthropoid walked around in angles
traced the floor as if driven berserk
the peremptory beetle with fastidious legwork

a factoid known by a pitiful few
beetles are attracted to colour light blue
and when aided by a scented taper
are apt to go on a pre-dawn caper

head buried deep
she sits and weeps

for soul bereft
for all have left

no twitter of bird,
no song is heard,

her streets devoid
of life destroyed

no children's laughter
on morn thereafter

the enemy's plunder
with fire and thunder

extinguished all
from big to small

no lover's call
no baby's crawl

no longer teens
stroll her greens

groom and bride
starved and died

her sages skilled
slain 'n killed

the pure and chaste
lie in waste

young and old
lie still and cold

her elders' gate
lies desolate

for thousand years
she weeped her tears

yearned that Time
return her prime

her constant yearn
her child's return

until one day
one light ray

a hint of dawn
as shyest fawn

began to shimmer
the smallest glimmer

it waxed and grew
as if anew

a people reborn
though tired 'n torn

from many-a-moon
scattered and strewn

from past tragic
as if by magic

from east and west
returned to nest

as sun arose
from deep repose

and as a lion
with muscle of iron

awoke from slumber
as beyond number

voices of joy
of girl and boy

played in her street
with hearts abeat

farms with lanes
fields and plains

full again
of wine 'n grain

as it would seem
a nation's dream

had come alive
to grow and thrive

yet true spirit
virtue 'n merit

life-force and soul
her aim and goal

her vision divine
her G-d's recline

the blood of her veins
in saints' remains

appeared still locked
as scorners mocked

as though the sun
were playing a pun

as though its light
though white and bright

was as the dusk
a mere husk

a shell to fruit
that lay still mute

that yet to grow
from grey shadow

had yet to rise
from dark disguise

thus she lies
in humble guise

her sore eyes
scan the skies

now more awake
as chains off-shake

she still awaits
her lover's gait

she says, I know
it's not long to go

I sense he's near
he'll soon appear

my love, my dear,
will soon be here

"Who are you?
I know you not,"
Said little Daisy
To Forget-me-not.

"He has no tongue,
Speak not to him,"
Yawned young Lupin,
***** and prim.

"And who be you
To interfere?"
From overhang basket
Squeaked Lamb's Ear.

"Quiet now,
I'm trying to sleep,"
Said holier-than-thou
Peony Bo Peep.

And all was quiet
In yon flower-bed,
Save sweet little robin
Singing overhead.

the whip cracked across my cheek
back i staggered faint and weak
couldn't answer, couldn't speak
little knew the havoc t'would wreak

as for him, i'm sure
he'd think nothing more
of scar with no cure
i'd for life endure

he thought it didactic,
part of art and tactic,
which made it more tragic
the henceforth prophylactic

against all emotion
a rhinoceros' hide
that he'd set in motion
leaving me inside

raw to to the touch
in constant clutch
aquiver in hutch
a broken crutch

if i saw myself through 'nother's eyes
what would i see?
a bumbling mess behind the lies
or some other entity?

some of us are so concerned
with how the other views us
but the reality of their impression
would utterly confuse us

my advice, at the end of the day,
forget the other person
be yourself as best you may
just be your own best version

London's burning, Lies are churning,
Fetch the engines, Retching vengeance,
Fire Fire! Liar Liar!
Pour on water. Call for order.

London's burning, Lords are earning,
Kvetch the tensions, Cut the pensions,
Dire dire! Mire mire!
Pour on water, 'gnore the poorer.

almighty father, almighty king,
heavens and earth are your thing
but here's the thing
hear me King

your children have well and truly messed up

you can hazard a guess
the world's a mess

as to why
well, there's a tongue-tie
i mean where do i start
there aint no flowchart
well, not for this!

drought and fires are the norm
let's not forget cyclone and storm
the unrelenting hurricanes
monsoon floods and murderous rains

then you've got the violence
ok, there's always been that
aye, and the mass riots
but not the rat-a-tat-tat
weapons to wreak world destruction
smallest child needs no introduction
every day 'nother calamity
natural and man-induced
men and women have lost their sanity
world's evil's come in to roost

so do we need help or what?

where is the shout, the worldly disgust,
the horror, the uproar, the outrage,
where is that voice that claims that it must
protest against violence and rampage?

where are ye peace-lovers, ye pursuers of love
ye headlines of feigned dismay
ye banners of rainbows, of flying doves
ye marches, protests of foul-play?

machetes and axes in vicious slaughter
slice up three lives in midday
life flows away, blood flows as water
and nary a voice or a bray

Goose, force-fed,
eyed me in pain
as they poured down the grain
heavy as lead

horse snorted and heaved
panted to breathe
as rider pulled tight
reined in with might

child wide-eyed
with innocent wonder
suffocated, tied,
till they go under

(fed like a goose
head in a noose
squeezed nice 'n tight
it doesn't seem right.)

till as a zombie
they stumble and fall
automated combi
with no recall

of who they are
'neath the exterior
'neath false coiffeur
o' Mother Superior.

she plucked the rose from the garden
crushed it under foot
ground its petals to the earth
without an afterthought

and, as pearls scattered hence,
they lay there in the dirt,
till gradually, in nature's course,
succumbed they to the hurt

for she was broken from her childhood,
something rotted inside,
and when she saw the whitest rose,
its beauty could not abide,

a rose as crystal alabaster,
as soft as nature's cheek,
as a prairie golden aster
of divine mystique

from that time she longed to cut it,
longed to cast it far aside,
so it too would rotten be,
'til, eventually, it died.

Dipped into the piping beverage
Smooth like melted ore
Giving extra oomph 'n leverage
To inner Manticore

Rousing sleeping warrior
Ad'lescent sophomore
Breaking down the barrier
Twixt pretext and inner core

Dripping ebony brown
Waxing allegoric
Soft on tongue as down
Whispers sound euphoric

Soothing edges abrasive
From land of talisman
Transforms secular to sacred
This food of gods and man