Love is the smile,
The warmth in my *****,
As I hug my child
To his presence succumb.

Love is the crying,
The longing for father,
On his death-bed dying,
Face softer and calmer.

Love is the tea
I make for my wife,
The nod, 'I agree',
To avoid her strife.

Love is the worm
Fed to chick 'n nestling,
Grubs as they squirm
Into hungry fledgling.

Love is the strokes
Of artist on canvas,
The mellow sweet notes
Of musical stanzas.

Love is the cry
Of soul in prayer,
The longing eye,
The hot, sweet tear.

Love is the beat of butterfly wing,
The buzz of the bee with honey and sting,
Love is the heat of summer and spring,
Love is the language of Elusive King.

Mind. Whisper your secrets,
Speak unto me,
Pierce this bleakness,
This mystery.

When all is still,
When heart opens
To drink its fill
Of heavenly notions

You are there,
You beckon.
You are prayer,
But as cretonne

that ***** over portal
Thou art impenetrable,
so long as I'm mortal
the distance inestimable

but I cry hail to Your Presence,
with salt tears do penance,
and in dissolving of my essence
make entrance

Step aside corporeal wonder,
silence yer noise, your awesome thunder,
for when body doth so slumber,
thickest veils are rent asunder

Streams of oneness, eye to Eye,
Give wing to soul, allow to fly,
Upon the thermals of spirit's sky,
To find its seat, to rest on high

Language here has other form,
no letters or numbers forced to conform,
the beat of a love, hot and warm,
drops like dew amid a swarm

of tongues that yearn for sweet elixir
of brightest light that hideth here,
that healeth all, that makes a seer
of blindest man, gives vision clear

that makes the weak hale and hearty
with joy of song, of spiritual party,
allows the meek become a part o' Ye,
Where close is far, and all One be.

what would breath be
if we did not inhale
if breath had no break
but as water of lake
was still and eternal
no rhythm or change,
vernal, sempiternal,
no beat nor range,
diurnal, nocturnal,
no give or exchange,

what would sound be
if it did not dulate,
if it did not have waves
that flow 'n oscillate,
if it was continuous
without vibration,
if its sphere of influence
had no fluctuation,

what would light be
without pulsation
with no shadow or shade
or variation

it would not be hell
nor heavenly bliss
but stagnation and smell
of eternal abyss

or the light of the Other
Unknown to another
Self unaware
no here and no there
forever the same
He of no name.

eyes ajar, like chocolate box
desperately trying to close
outside noise of yelping fox
and wife blowing her nose
leave my mind in flummox
unable to sleep or doze
expropriated as man in docks
of rightful slumber pose
so now in state as tinderbox
i gingerly throw on my clothes
close my hose, put on my socks,
'n venture on tiptoes,
half-past two scream the clocks
as children comatose
dream of bears and goldilocks
red cape and purple bows.

K indness done in this life
A ssures good prospects in the next,
R un amok with gun and knife
M akes for a very different text
A s what you do, next life affects.

I once knew a boy
Blue-eyed wonder
dressed in corduroy
and knit-weave jumper

he'd go amongst the laurel
in hidden, shady paths
surrounded by leaf 'n floral
sheltered from the blasts

of domestic quarrel
shouting and loud noises
he'd speak amongst wood-sorrel
and he'd hear the voices

of his own whispers
to his own G-d
he'd say his own Scriptures
upon the ****** sod

that boy is still around
buried beneath burnt ember
sometimes when i make no sound,
he makes my soul remember

forgetting is
like the blankness
of a paper
hold it to the light
there's a word
erased
no more
it's gone

Late night
little rest
Midday bite
caffeine blest

Little wonder
Creativity
torn asunder
unto passivity.

-                               your goal                 your hereafter                       
                depends on intent                    'neath heaven's rafter
        of your soul                                           is made by your actions
    the ascent                                                         and sweet reactions
                                      your love and smiles     
                                    to life's kisses and trials

no longer does my mind rush on,
harried by incessant chatter,
no longer does my pen bear fruit
with workings of grey-cell matter

the highs, the lows, have softened 'n mellowed,
as fields of grain, of browns and yellows,
time goes faster and weeks race by
as two days between two Saturdays lie

the wine, maturing, regrets lost time,
the lost opportunities of me in my prime,
i long for those days when i sailed the skies,
when the sun and moon shone in my eyes

finally, finally, i'm coming to terms,
with my mortality, the diet of worms,
a finality that priceless make
the minutes 'n seconds i'm still awake

Sinking, drifting out so far
How I wonder where you are
Once a world that aimed so high
Now curled up and ready to die
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
How I wonder what you are

i heard it whispered by the wind
weeping o'er seas and land
i heard it sighed by the child
building castles in the sand

i heard it spluttered as he killed
as they fell as one unmanned
amongst the corpses as they piled
death at home in devil's land

i heard it muttered midst the trees
shivering naked in the breeze
i heard it buzzed between the bees
among the blackbirds from overseas

they'd seen him with his scythe in hand
they'd seen him threshing to and fro
they'd seen him travelling 'cross the land
with swing and strike and swipe and blow

how the mighty fell before him
weak and meek 'uns too
how their life was torn from limb
as they struggled to pull through

as they struggled 'gainst the *******
jaws of gaping hell
as they wrestled 'gainst his plucking
cord of bell and knell

as they fell into the clutches
of the scion of diablo
defenceless they 'gainst his touches
'gainst his charge on Death Row

they whispered secrets in my ear
chilling message ringing clear
better the rampage of G-d's courier
than predator of war-nuclear

better to fall into the hand of the L-rd
then the hand of man*
who kills 'n plunders with raving sword
without G-d's merciful plan

but my blindness saw as futile
the death of those five million
their suffering meaningless 'n brutal,
the adults, babes and children

but who am i to stand and judge
from my vantage here on earth
mine is but to drudge 'n trudge
till I'm too pulled to berth

there, beyond the death corporeal,
there beyond the silent sleep
beyond the clutch of snake primordial
the swing of soundless reap

i'll join the wisdom, joy supernal
beyond all peeve and pique
within the light of One Eternal,
Whose Name I dare not speak

a heart that's broken
a shattered mirror
reflects more feeling
than one that's clear
than one that's healing
flaws of terror
as each glass shard
cuts hard

each glass shard
reflects a world
forever scarred
forever knurled
a soul so marred
that great wings furled
once a bard
now up-curled

heart that's broken
has wings clipped
words unspoken
and sealed lips
bound with tape
that never holds
longs to escape
and wings unfold

heart that's broken
has jeremiad
of demons woken
as songs o' Iliad
that longs for balm
of inner wound
an inner calm
to soul marooned

there's music, golden melody,
that twinkles, in breathless revelry
that eclipses sweetest heavenly
celestial, ethereal, glorious company

it has no tune nor has it harmony
it jars the ears, is out of key,
but it is sweeter than sugared tea,
and formed the world in void cavity

it's name is laughter, the smile of glee,
it's voice is the voice o' hilarity,
it bears eternal testimony
imperfect's perfection o' first degree

brown crackled underfoot
crinkly, dead matter
buried with the sod and soot
buried 'neath the constant patter

gone the joy of boyhood
crystal before its shatter
sits beneath the tree of wood
silent among the chatter

piled in a corner
left in no-man's land
bereft of friend or mourner
bereft of comfort's hand

Would that my eyes were a fountain of tears
to mourn those cut off in the prime of their years
the children, young boys, teenagers and men
that will never see the earth or the sky again
crushed underfoot in dearth unrelenting
in crowd unawares, in world unrepenting,
mothers are wailing and fathers are rending,
unable to fathom their child's early ending,
infants are crying and siblings lamenting,
'father', 'brother', their cries tormenting,
who can give voice to the emotions venting,
o'er jewels and gems, sweet men of learning,
the innocent souls never returning,
to parents, to spouses, to houses of learning,
world, take heed, abjure your errors,
say enough to the pain, the fright 'n the terrors,
let the cries go out to heal humanity,
from its stupidity, its ridiculous insanity,
my mind is weary from thinking on this,
thus pen i lay down, from writing desist.

it came abruptly when least expected
yet all predicted it would happen
humanity was least directed
free for all and all for passion
men were wild and unconnected,
religion, morality, out of fashion
nobody wanted to be corrected,
soul was dying, lying ashen,
it lay neglected, unrespected,
so when it came, it came expected.

the tender heart was open
sensitive to the touch
now in blood it's chokin'
can only take so much

Crackly prickles,
Sharp as razors,
Teeth like little
Alligators.

Black thorn,
Stalk dried,
Bush forlorn,
Flowers died.

And then, Spring angel,
A whisper gave,
As in a fable,
A magic wave.

From dried twig,
Emerged a bud,
Within the sprig,
Elixir blood.

A hint of green,
Edged with scarlet,
The garden queen,
A youthful varlet.

Bedecked in emerald,
Gives haughty bow,
Once naked 'n bald,
Now jewel-filled bough.

With nod 'n light wink,
Royalty with diadems,
With sunrise pink,
Citrines, pearl gems.

Soul of my rose,
She lives on eternal,
Forever she grows,
Ever youthful 'n vernal.

The soul of your rose,
Lies hidden and waiting,
As poetry prose,
As life pulsating.

cherub so fair
raven black hair
eyes azure
as grandfather
face radiant
perfect, pure, true,
features salient
i remember you

with tiny hands 'n fingers moving
there you lay swathed in pipes
in distress from convolut'd tubing
not from teething or testinal gripes

in ICU unit of babies diverse
at mercy of overworked nurse
no sound left your mouth, no whimper or cry
when they said you had predilection to die

when no-one was looking, your face turned blue
from lack of oxygen from outside to you,
no-one noticed as your life slipped away
none there for you on your last day

they say you marry your mother
i don't know whether that's true
but every time i hear another
scolding from my shrew
it's mother's image my brain conjures
shaking her finger anew
i hear her voice through wife's responders
A feeling of déjà vu.

the new year came
darkness in its wake
mars took careful aim
sanity took a break

first plague, then war,
black clouds 'n thunder
we've stopped keeping score
of bodies wrought asunder,

gone is modest shame
conscience limping lame
life is but a game
all to take a claim

What is life?

it's the cry of a baby in the still of night
the sound of suckling at mother's breast,
the misty breath on a wintry night
the call of the dove from its warm nest

the wings of a dragonfly in swiftest flight,
the bark of a dog that kindles fright,
the fanciful journeys as brain takes flight,
the spray of salt sea with waves winged white

life is the favour one does for another,
the joy, the smile, of father and mother,
life is the name of all-hallowed one
who saw end of time ere world had begun

the night began with revelry
with joy, with song, with dance,
the choir sang sweet melody,
the rabbis in sweet trance,
the flames leapt high towards the sky
as roundabout advanced
the voices of a myriad sighs
soul's spirit-flame enhanced

but lo, a tragedy on the way,
ere long begun the day,
as hundred thousand men would sway
towards enchanted arched gateway
a hundred thousand men o' ardor,
there to bargain and to barter
with heaven's lore and law of order,
squashed against the barrier border

the lights became their funeral lamps
leading groups of mourners
the cave became where death encamps
'stead praying saints in corners
and all about the yell and shout
'stead praise from G-d's adorners
tears and cries from hearts worn out
as carrion for the scorners

in the shadow
of a rainbow
through the prism of divine
in the soft light
by the window
sits a woman in her shrine

there she paints
among the saints
that like the sun and stars do shine
in the night
when all is faint
her expression of divine

free of slander
golden candour
gives her voice to yearning pine
shining bright
as shining amber
caught in moment crystalline

Truth will last
Falseness will pass
Crumble, out cast,
As dead, dry grass

But what till then the buildings
the edifices built on lies,
how much blood and killings
will they cause on their capsize?

the air is stretching balloon's confines
till, of a sudden, pop!
but pity the persons it defines
all heading for the chop

there's a heartbeat in a second
eternity in a moment
time lives till he's beckon'd
to surrender his endowment

to purposely confine
a poem in line
to assign guideline
can undermine

free flow of thought
of meaning's import
impede and thwart
your mind's report

but oft times a border
creates form and order
as rhythmic performer
like glass filled with water

like canes support beans
like stakes uphold vines,
injects meaning to scenes
sacrality to shrines

a soul needs a ladder
a system to climb
else, as mad-hatter
it'll just waste in time

'there's none so queer as folks',
me grandma used to say,
'for different folks there's different strokes'
i'd hear from other blokes.

'to make a world takes all types'
said me aunt one day,
that's what i think when i see the stripes
that different folks display

everyone's an individual,
an' everyone's distinct,
and so to each their ritual
stops 'em going extinct

Uncanny world 'tmay seem
but that's its wondrous beauty
to everyone their personal dream
their sense of divine duty.

so fill yourself another drink
'n pour me another shot,
let's celebrate and clink in sync
to the weird strange things we've got.

i felt it coming
tried to deter,
but the drum was drumming,
and the world a blur.

"Come with me, hold my hand,
come with me to another land,
come with me, there's nought to fear,
you'll lose yourself now but you'll soon reappear.''

i lay, mesmerised,
"so soon?" i asked,
a reply, undisguised,
loudly broadcast

without words, shimmered
as thousand suns, glimmered,
waving, surging, infinite kiss
told me 'yes, there's nothing amiss'.

"Come with me, there's end to the sorrow,
come with me, to place of tomorrow,
our loves forever entwine to eternity,
your life to mine bound ever for posterity.''

Hickory dickory dock,
the mice run up the clock,
the clock struck one -
other mice all run -
he's ok, but he's suffering from shock

Risorius is a muscle in your face,
a key to happiness and to grace,
It helps pull the angle of the mouth
to smile at jokes or sommat uncouth

situated in the space
twixt mouth corner and your jaw,
on the side of your sweet face
to produce grin or guffaw.

so when next you smile or deride,
though latter's to be used most sparing,
remember that muscle at your side,
and wonder at His creation unerring

black and white
night and day
left and right
learn and play

life and death
disease and health
peace and war
rich and poor

land and sea
earth and sky
good and bad
low and high

in a world of opposites
elements and composites
it's up to us to choose our way
but if perchance we're led astray

remember that wherever you are
in highest heaven or deepest tar
however near you feel, or far,
G-d is not some far-off star

He's with you in the dead of night
He's there with you in fear and flight
He even holds your hand in hell
in blackest pit or prison cell

No matter of the circumstance
In enemy retreat or their advance,
Or if you feel clamped up tight,
Because of sorrowful bitter plight

Just hold on till the storm has passed,
Ride out the cruel trough and fall,
There was a time when life was a blast,
There'll be a time you won't recall

The pain, the black, the tear'd confusion,
As peak and crest will lift you up,
As you'll see 'twas all illusion
As painted lady's white make-up

they lie on my couch and reminisce
and call to mind what's amiss
i feed them with ideas of light
that turns their thoughts sunshine bright

and whilst it's them i try to heal
it's really me that's beginning to feel
life's manageable, there's a way out,
action speaks loud and it's got clout

so when you're feeling down in the dumps
from life's travails, its humps and bumps,
when you're in receipt of dark deceit
of sorrows that turn to bitter the sweet

helping others is a way to trump
the things that make your heart go thump
it's a therapy like no other
the help you give to one another.

chanced upon the vegetable bed
a frightened wren off flew
in swiftest glide, straight back and head,
his hind brown tail askew

from there, not far, he lit upon
a branch of kiwi tree
upon which he sung the sweetest trill
whilst eyeing me coyly

'i'm innocent', he seemed to say,
"though smallest British bird,
i went to glean some grass and hay
before your wrath incurred".

and while he sang and probity pled
robin materialised
there on border of raised veg bed,
and slugs 'n flies surprised

'wasn't me either your radishes pecked'
his presence seemed to say,
'it's the bigger birds that ought get checked'
and off he flew away