We conquer all worlds,
Sweet creature: melt my soul,
freshly thawed, vulnerability exposed.
Eager for unbridled wickedness,
within lilting rhythms of your magic.
So inviting, such interwoven seduction,
I discover that you are indeed, She.
The Mistress who cannot be denied,
so take my hand, I shall guide you,
while you, Dark sweet demigod,
Guide me to intoxicating magic,
magic that is you: and you alone.
Pour your evil charms upon me,
Stoke dying embers of my neglected power.
See the flames rekindled;
feel the comforting ice of my being,
savour my destructive cold fire.
Let me soothe you in return,
offering delicious despicable deeds.
Havoc wrought in your name.
The demonic glow inside grows,
until I fear nothing, Dark Mistress.
I am exalted in this vile inferno,
A conflagration of our own creation.
Dark destiny shall not desert us,  
but shall become the favoured guide.
I shall never be without you,
Dark Mistress, and together,
We conquer all worlds.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Even at my age,
I see mountainous lands in the sky,
Languishing among towering clouds,
A lofty empire, lost kingdoms,
Perhaps a strange magical realm,
Thriving with dwarves and giants,
Maidens in towers awaiting rescue,
Where lone horse warriors wander,
Maybe observing us, far below.

Must be a poetic creative thing,
Or simply the child deep within,
Viewing through the eyes of the man,
Dreaming ancient days of long ago,
When the child yearned to be grown,
To know all there is to know,
Never appreciating escapism,
The chance to drift within time,
Ponder upon distant, aerial, worlds.

Or maybe I’m just a dreamer,
That and nothing more, hmm,
Telling myself, I am a poet,
A procrastinating creative spirit,
In love with the trappings of art,
The child asleep within wisdom,
Languishing among towering clouds,
I see mountainous lands in the sky,
Even at my age.

©Paul M Chafer 2015

Watching wild unicorns, dance in the snow,
Whinnying, frolicking, as happy as can be,
As I hover high above, observing all below.

Such stunning beauty, makes my heart glow,
Mythical creatures, running wild and free,
Watching wild unicorns, dance in the snow.

They are seeds of dreams, we lovingly sow,
Rearing in acknowledgement, just for me,
As I hover high above, observing all below.

They begin racing clouds, perhaps for show,
Maybe I am a dream, one only they can see,
Watching wild unicorns, dance in the snow.

Amongst trillions of stars, one must know,
Unicorns live and play, with unbridled glee,
As I hover high above, observing all below.

Through layers of cloud, drifting so slow,
To unlock sheer bliss, I now possess the key,
Watching wild unicorns, dance in the snow,
As I hover high above, observing all below.

©Paul M Chafer 2014

I once found that,
Elusive, 'silent blip',
It was deep inside,
Hiding all the time,
Lying in my mind,
As I lie to myself,
What a fool I am.

On realization,
It pops, vanishes,
The feeling remains,
Demons, those emotions,
Haunting, wracking, savaging,
Biting at the soul,
Hacking me to death.

Please, give it back,
That inner-silence,
I’m sorry, so sorry,
I was young, stupid,
Welcomed seduction,
Now though, older,
Wisdom exposes truth.

No going back,
Nope, one bite only,
When passion screams,
We hear nothing else,
We choose not to hear,
I once found that,
Elusive, 'silent blip'.

Goodbye everybody.

© Paul Chafer 2014

By walking between certain trees,
Sometimes, one has an odd feeling,
An unusual tingling sensation,
Not scary, but mostly appealing.
Katalyn passed between two elms,
And entered into ancient realms.

Excitement prickled Katalyn’s skin,
Trees here were wide and tall,
Then from a sun-splashed clearing,
There came a strange animal call.
Creeping closely; peering round a tree,
Katalyn saw unicorns, roaming free.

Approaching slowly, heart beating fast,
Katalyn could not help but smile,
As the unicorns gathered round,
What grace, such poise, cool style.
Not thinking, Katalyn touched a wing,
There came a whoosh . . . so dizzying.

Without knowing, how or why,
Katalyn soared above the trees,
Holding a slender unicorn neck,
Laughter escaping on the breeze.
They dropped into a sudden glide,
With a thrilling rush: what a ride!

They winged across grassy plains,
Between mountains capped with snow,
Katalyn neither knew nor recognised,
The wild land, passing by, below.
Another world; another dimension,
Kept secret by; magical intention.

Then Katalyn was suddenly walking,
Back where the adventure began,
Passing between two old elms,
Returned to the world of man.
Now feeling as happy, as you please,
Knowing unicorns lived, beyond the trees.

© Paul M Chafer 2014

To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.
A dove-house filled with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell through all its regions.
A dog starved at his master’s gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.
A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.
A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-**** clipped and armed for fight
Does the rising sun affright.
Every wolf’s and lion’s howl
Raises from hell a human soul.
The wild deer wandering here and there
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misused breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher’s knife.
The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won’t believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever’s fright.
He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be beloved by men.
He who the ox to wrath has moved
Shall never be by woman loved.
The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider’s enmity.
He who torments the chafer’s sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.
The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother’s grief.
**** not the moth nor butterfly,
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh.
He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar’s dog and widow’s cat,
Feed them, and thou wilt grow fat.
The gnat that sings his summer’s song
Poison gets from Slander’s tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of Envy’s foot.
The poison of the honey-bee
Is the artist’s jealousy.
The prince’s robes and beggar’s rags
Are toadstools on the miser’s bags.
A truth that’s told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so:
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know
Through the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The babe is more than swaddling bands,
Throughout all these human lands;
Tools were made and born were hands,
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;
This is caught by females bright
And returned to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar
Are waves that beat on heaven’s shore.
The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes Revenge! in realms of death.
The beggar’s rags fluttering in air
Does to rags the heavens tear.
The soldier armed with sword and gun
Palsied strikes the summer’s sun.
The poor man’s farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric’s shore.
One mite wrung from the labourer’s hands
Shall buy and sell the miser’s lands,
Or if protected from on high
Does that whole nation sell and buy.
He who mocks the infant’s faith
Shall be mocked in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne’er get out.
He who respects the infant’s faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child’s toys and the old man’s reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.
The questioner who sits so sly
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.
The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar’s laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour’s iron brace.
When gold and gems adorn the plough
To peaceful arts shall Envy bow.
A riddle or the cricket’s cry
Is to doubt a fit reply.
The emmet’s inch and eagle’s mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne’er believe, do what you please.
If the sun and moon should doubt,
They’d immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.
The ***** and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation’s fate.
The harlot’s cry from street to street
Shall weave old England’s winding sheet.
The winner’s shout, the loser’s curse,
Dance before dead England’s hearse.
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
We are led to believe a lie
When we see not through the eye
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.
God appears, and God is light
To those poor souls who dwell in night,
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.

Blackbird

Blackbird
Beautiful Blackbird,
Take heart, take flight,
Leaving all the hurt behind,
Upon the wing, you can sing,
Allowing troubles to unwind.

Blackbird
Precious Blackbird,
Be strong, be brave,
Be unafraid, just to fight,
Forever free, you shall see,
Blue skies, clear and bright.

Blackbird
Sweet Blackbird,
Know faith, know hope,
Sharing dreams, everyday,
Knowing inside, no need to hide,
Trust guiding you, all the way.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Ban flu,
Man flu.

Aching head,
Bleary eyes,
Death lurking,
In disguise,
Under the bed,
What a surprise,
******* Death,
I’m going to rise.

No I’m not,
I flop down,
Head cushioned,
In eiderdown,
In the curtains,
Face of a clown,
In medication,
Senses drown.

I’m not dying,
I am in a state,
Snot and phlegm,
I ******* hate,
No latent desire,
To *******,
No appetite,
I’m losing weight!

I’m getting better,
Weak as a lamb,
A hot toddy,
A wee dram,
Man flu is real,
Not a sham,
Getting better,
The **** I am.

The fifth day,
What a-to-do,
So had enough,
Of feeling blue,
Death lost,
So go *****,
Getting dressed,
I am its true.

Man flu,
Ban flu.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Serendipity.
You ******* what!
What you saying, pal?
Serendipity, oh aye, all right,
Aye, seren-******-dipity; whatever!
Tell it to the raggedy soaked-wino,
Look into his rheumy eyes, really look,
Want to kiss his toothless grin, eh? Do you?
Feel his sore-ridden tongue searching you out,
Nay, I thought not, anyway, he hears nothing,
Nothing except the rattle of change.

Tell it to the punctured ******, go on,
Cold body on a cold linoleum floor,
He can’t hear you either, maybe though,
Maybe, slipping away on the last tide of life,
Do-gooder, maybe he will hear you call,
‘Serendipity’ and wonder: what the ****?
Until blackness closes in, blanking the stars.

Tell it to the Fourth Bridge jumpers, go on,
Always falling; to them, falling forever,
In hearts and minds, the event horizon of death,
Trapped in limbo, leaving unbearable hurt behind,
Along with serendipity and bad choices.

And the young, oh they need serendipity,
Cruelty of life glittering in furtive wary eyes,
Old already, far beyond halcyon blue-skies,
Used and abused by those closest, the shame,
Erosion of trust and sincerity completed over night,
Christmas ghosts: slovenly laggards by comparison.

Resilient youth! Yep, they ******* need to be,
Grinding machine of town-life hunting them,
Scouring dark corners, gnashing jaws growling,
Crunching down darkened alleys, feeding,
Lapping up the young blood of runaways,
Slavering maw eating them alive; laughing.

With serendipity, they can lie low, maybe hide,
Dream of escape, for they all want out,
Putting misery behind them, quelling cruelty,
After all, they live in a lucky ******* town,
So escape is not impossible, no,
Unlikely, yes, poor wee *******.

Serendipity should shout a loud warning,
Run, scrawny urchins, run if you can,
Run for your lives, the rest of your lives,
Town-life’s grinding machine awaits,
Watches for you, so keep running,
Never stop, never look back,
Not ever, not ever,
Serendipity.

©Paul Chafer 2014

Walking through woodland,
Sunlight dancing through branches,
I find myself beside a stream,
My mind wandering, wondering,
Exploring love on the edge of time.

My thoughts tumble over rocks,
Caught in water’s swirl and eddy,
A leaf that's fallen free, floating by,
Carried by flowing water, turning,
Searching out my broken dream.

I've walked this path for years,
Hearing the wind calling my name,
Rustling in the sad weeping trees,
Tears mingle with the stream, a leaf,
Part of me, writhes in a broken dream.

© Paul Chafer 2014

We have our dreams,
My perfect stranger,
Though we never really met,
Perhaps; never shall meet.
Still, we amble along together,
Navigating the lamentable brook,
Unfulfilled promises, foaming,
Swirling around our bare feet,
The cold of reality numbing our toes,
Skipping over rocks of broken ideals,
Once cherished, but not here, no,
They are fractious and discarded.
Trickles of tormented sighs, tease,
While avoiding guiding ropes of life,
Which would snag our thoughts,
Straining against friction burns,
As they attempt to bind us tightly,
Holding us prisoner, when in truth,
We are capable of incarcerating ourselves.
Although, our minds are free, yes,
Living beneath the same impassive moon,
Bathing within its stolen light,
Stealing our own, moments of peace,
As in sleep, we slip away unnoticed,
To hold each other, so loving,
Above the clouds, sharing caresses,
Smooching around, and round,
Oblivious of telltale tears on our cheeks.
A shooting star arcs across the sky,
‘Shall we wish?’ You ask,
‘Nah,’ I reply; wishing is for fools,
Be content; acceptance is the key,
My perfect stranger,
We have our dreams.

© Paul M Chafer 2014

Awaiting the storm
Forming on distant shores.
Preparing myself for
The oceans tidal swell.
Opening my heart
To the rawest of elements.
I ride the anticipation
Of the coming waves.
Conquering the building
Fear as the water leaps high.
A great solid wall
Unfurling its rippling energy.
Through the tube,
Board skimming, skipping.
Flirting with danger,
Risking everything,
Inside a living
Hollow cocoon of
Thundering power.
Controlled fear beats
Inside my pumping heart,
Driving my adrenaline
Through to spiritual fulfilment.
On exiting the beast,
It rolls onward to its death.
Through its existence
We both lived, sharing
A unique oneness.
Children of nature within
A union of creation, so special,
It takes the breath away.
Savouring my exhilaration,  
I see another wave being born,
And prepare to surf again.

©Paul M Chafer 2014

We don’t need swaying palm trees and cicadas,
Not to feel as if we have stepped into paradise,
Cradled in the still, warm shadow of devotion,
We are soothingly bathed in love’s sweet heat.

Emotion surges within, rising, an upwelling,
Breaking with the speed of a tropical storm,
We are saturated with loving, wholly drenched,
The feeling; as water offered to a parched soul.

With burning words we urge our worlds to merge,
Unexpected blending during the summer of our lives,
Forging an alloy of free-flowing emotion, so powerful,
So intense, we are captured by its undeniable allure.

We don’t ever need to speak of our love aloud: no,
Finding our affirmation in the sighs between lines,
The liquid longing whispered into stories that we build,
Mirroring our deep desires, hopes and needs fulfilled.

From heady dreams, creating our own sweet heat,
Exploring unconditional passion, trembling, complete,
On cold, starry nights, embracing, sated, warm, alive,
Our coalescing, enraptured spirits, breathlessly writhe.

Across the challenging separation of distant night,
Languishing on the cusp of sleep, edging dreams,
Images rise, silken gossamer threads of thought,
Brushing against latent desires, calling, calling.

Irresistibly drawn together, ah, sharing the dream,
Thrumming pulses racing as we gently caress,
Languorous kisses, hot, sweet and hungry, we love,
Sleep entwined in moonlight, streaming from above.

Here I am; waiting,
Waiting for an old friend
On a deserted Railway Station.
She’s late; knew she would be.
Time behaves differently in
Such public places; very differently.

I stood waiting alone,
Then a gaggle of women
Clattered up the subway.
Stilettos and thick, heeled boots,
Beating out an echoing tattoo,
On the broad, concrete steps.

Now we wait together,
Myself and a Hen Party.
Blending of emotional alloys
Fused together, forming
Excitement; then I see her
And all heads turn to look.

Amongst the flower boxes,
Silence blossoms on the
Platform as my old friend
Glides serenely into the station,
She’s late; knew she would be
Even so, she’s on time for me.

Steam unfurls around her,
Billowing majestic clouds
Crowning this, ‘Queen of
The Rails’, last seen when
I was a boy, now in manhood
Her unsung glory is truly revered.

Steel wheels clatter, a rhythmic
Tattoo, then she draws to a halt.
Old friend from a previous age
Escaping through to this century,
Thronged by beautiful women, I
Smile, and step aboard a true beauty.

©Paul M Chafer 2014

Thrumming life-threads are weaving the day,
Myriad summer colours of an abstract view,
Curling up between and under the far away.

I’m lost in the mix, a melting *** full of play,
My own shade of Dark, a subtle blended hue,
Thrumming life-threads are weaving the day.

Beautiful retro splendour, asking me to stay,
Flower in her hair, white petals, edged blue,
Curling up between and under the far away.

Smiling, she raises my soul from feet of clay,
Dark and Stormy cocktail easing me through,
Thrumming life-threads are weaving the day.

Cuban rhythm dancers give a riotous display,
Bohemian sight and sound unleashed on cue,
Curling up between and under the far away.

We sample dreams from an enchanted tray,
Allowing hearts, minds, and spirits to renew,
Thrumming life-threads are weaving the day,
Curling up between and under the far away.

©Paul M Chafer 2015

The non-planet, poor Pluto,
Circling far out and forgotten,
I cast my thoughts around you,
Knowing you are like many here,
Too insignificant to be noticed,
And yet, still worthwhile, for sure.

I caress the cold of Neptune,
Her super speed winds whip by,
She has no thought for me, too busy,
As is her sister, Uranus, circling,
Unaware that I, or others, even exist,
Yet, we are made of the same stuff,
Stardust, so exotic, so varied; so us.

My thoughts come leaping back,
Arcing around the rings of Saturn,
Slipping between sparkling icy dust,
Navigating the dark reaching fingers,
Stretching impassively from their host,
Guiding my eye to the little moons,
Knowing that life might thrive there.

I somersault away to King Jupiter,
He used to wander, he battled hard,
Casting out the rogue gas giant,
Clearing the way for the rocky worlds,
Giving life to us all, before drifting back,
Cajoled by Saturn, his anger still rages,
The red spot storm churning, his moons,
Observing, as Jupiter takes on all comers.

And we, the rocky four, so grateful,
As Jupiter snaffles the debris, holds it,
Or hurls it away, so we live, we learn,
Our inner sisters too hot, brother Mars,
Too cold, for now, but one day, yes,
As we begin to bake, Mars awaits,
To welcome us for a million years, or so,
A blink of an eye, universally speaking,
But home has hope, hope offers life,
Unlike our unwanted distant cousin,
The non-planet, poor Pluto.

©Paul M Chafer 2015

Stardust
Indeed, everything is stardust,
Yes, you and I both,
The chocolate wrapper blowing down the street,
The cat arching its back as I walk by,
The child skipping, and the rope,
The watching dog, licking its paw,
Nonchalant to the whole world.

The tree in the forest,
The axe ending its life,
The startled squirrel escaping
The grubs feeding on its leaves,
(Visible and invisible)
Land ocean and sky,
All are, and forever will be,
Stardust.

© Paul Chafer 2014

So deliciously dark,
The sultry taste of pure lust,
Lingering upon my wet tongue; so hot!
I smile, lapping up your slinky essence,
Writhing, twisting, arching, resisting,
Attempting to deny my devilish charm,
Hiding behind flimsy veils of innocence.
Only, I know, deep inside, you burn,
No chains, or bonds, could ever hold you,
Knowing you want me, so very much.
Parting your hastily erected defences,
I ****** you up; we plunge into the fire,
As one, the flames consume, seared raw,
Forging an emotional alloy, thrashed out,
Hammered upon the anvil of sheer pleasure,
Quivering, breathless, enraptured and blissful,
Again and again, leaving us both sated,
Still tasting of sultry lust,
So deliciously dark.

©Paul M Chafer 2014

London,
Beating heart of England,
Charismatic time-capsule thrumming to its own rhythm,
History looming, akin to massive waves splashing down,
Drenching all, the unwary, the scholar, soaking it up,
Savouring every scintillating droplet, blissful, hopeful,
Weaving through lives, changing with every moment,
Variety of race and creed, intermingling, jostling, noticing,
Sharing sight, sound, colour, scents, smiles and frowns,
Pulsing soul of people, thriving and alive, buzzing with spirit,
In Camden, easy-going, a friendly riot of textured-hazy-peace,
Artful structures of Belgravia, magnolia temples of affluence,
Lauding architectural finery while mere mortals pass through,
Mind swinging through centuries, flowing along the river artery,
Bridges carrying us home, keeping their own dark secrets,
Cranes rising high, creating modern palaces, new beginnings,
Old lives wreathed in the foggy past of legendry deeds,
Embellished beyond reality, ghosts crying out, warning,
We can never own this city, never know this city, not really,
Guardian dragon allows us entrance, pours herself upon us,
Takes our love, progresses while we observe,
All left behind, knowing, feeling, sensing,
We are but shadows in her Light,
Dust on her famous streets,
Blessed to know her,
To breathe her,
Love her,
London.

©Paul Chafer 2014

Nothing intimidates me more,
Than a woman’s inviting smile,
It pierces right down to the core;
Appealing to everything I adore;
This subtle, suggestive, wile:
Whetting the sense of anticipation,
Igniting fires of the imagination.

Nothing possesses more power,
Than a woman’s determined will;
Disguised as a delicate flower,
Sweetness smothering the sour,
Regardless of the pyrrhic thrill;
Bewitchment in everything but name,
Savouring the illicitness of the game.

No ordinary man has a prayer,
When a woman stakes her claim;
She’ll welcome you into her lair,
Reject her desires if you dare,
Her revenge has legendary fame;
Travelling incognito: deadly intentions,
From this wrath, there are no preventions.

Do not ever, ever, underestimate.
That which cannot be understood:
Avoid the temptation to speculate,
Categorize, classify or evaluate,
The secret mysteries of womanhood;
Whenever tempted by an inviting smile;
Nod politely then turn, and run a mile.

© Paul Chafer 2014

I like to bite,
not overly hard,
just enough to make one wince,
perhaps, a sharp intake of breath,
showing that my bite is hard enough.

I so desire feeling soft flesh,
tensing between my teeth,
especially when rounded and firm.

Neck first, working downwards,
nipping into the shoulder,
chewing that succulent muscle,
with tight, tentative nibbles.

I am even bitten in return,
my pressure gauged by intent,
taken from the one biting me.

If teeth come hard and sharp,
trust me, then so do mine,
if they are loving and gentle,
once again, so are mine.

I work across the *******,
delighting in the ***** *******,
chewing drawing responses,
tongue sliding over her stomach,
lower, lower, down to the hips.

Biting very hard into thighs,
making her cry, back arching,
bringing writhing gasps to die for,
reaching her vulnerable centre,
soothing with deep, heavy licks,
tantalisingly teasing, so sweet.

Suddenly, flipping her over,
rough as you like, choice slaps,
smarting on her plump bottom,
before biting, biting, biting,
taking in every curvaceous part,
devouring, chomping, so yummy!

I part her legs, diving between,
my tongue lapping in a frenzy,
deep, deep, tasting the juice,
before rising, pinning shoulders,
entering, gliding, slowly, surely,
giving long, languorous strokes.

Hips grinding, hard and deep,
circling round and round,
momentum building, building,
firm hands gripping her hips,
flesh slapping against flesh,
as we match our rhythm,
lunging, pounding, thrusting,
exploding, on and on,
more and more, until,
we are spent, trembling,
slowing, easing.

A final twisting whip,
circling the very edge,
bringing smiles,
a playful giggle,
it tickles, so nice,
I lean forward, so good,
nuzzling, caressing,
ah, all because,
I like to bite.

©Paul M Chafer

You ask me,
Do I miss you?
How can I miss you?
You are always with me,
Your face behind my eyes,
Your soul sleeping in my heart,
The essence of you dances for me,
Sinuous curves shimmy within shadows.

You ask me,
Do I love you?
You should be asking,
How much you love me?
Then measure that feeling,
Holding it tightly deep inside,
Knowing that I feel just the same,
With every single fibre of my being.

You ask me,
Do I miss you?
Perhaps, I might sigh,
The very truth, though,
Is that I miss you terribly,
Is that part of me aches for you,
Though we are intrinsically entwined,
Sometimes, such closeness is not enough.

You ask me,
Do I love you?
Do you need to ask?
I live and breathe you,
As you live and breathe me,
Your roads lead to me, woman,
I am by your side, holding your hand,
One day, we will surely arrive together.

You ask me,
Do I miss you?
Everyday baby,
Never doubt it is so,
My pain is like your own,
Insomnia, numbing, yearning,
Hiding tears in the soft darkness,
But knowing, we will be free, one day.

©Paul M Chafer 2015

I have seen,
Yes, I have seen,
Deep inside your mind:
The dreams, such wonder.
Forces, some, your own design,
Are trying to break you,
Destroy you mentally,
Making you afraid,
Making you cower,
Making you cut, and cut,
And bleed, blood, red blood.
Then blame yourself,
So you give up on yourself,
Give up on life, hate life.
I suspect these forces,
Some of your own design,
Desire to make you weak,
Make you lose hope,
All hope, all joy, all love.
In your dreams, such dreams,
I know you are strong,
I know you can fight, will fight,
Given a chance, save yourself,
Then; given a chance,
Save others, truly,
Save us all, this,
I have seen.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Whilst we destroy what we are,
Another’s suffering does nothing,
Nothing at all to alleviate our pain.
That we in the west live in luxury,
Does nothing either: why should it?
We are spawned from choice,
Conceived via free will, and ******,
Dropped into a cradle of filth,
Finally crawling, learning to hate,
Not knowing why, nobody knows why,
Well do they? Do they?
Emerging and ready to die, yes,
Already damaged and broken,
Bereft of the truth of life, sick,
Perishing lost and alone, uncaring,
We the ******, misunderstood,
Chastised, ‘we never had it so good?’
We who inherited the earth, yeah,
We have it good, no struggle, none!
And therein lies our issues, true,
We have no need to fight, have we?
So, we fight ourselves, cutting,
And we live to cause suffering,
Our own agony screamed wildly!
Go on, frown, older generation,
Go on, you know you want to.
Call us, shake your wise heads,
Whilst we destroy what we are.

©Paul M Chafer 2015

When life becomes a dream,
From which one can’t escape,
Reality a distant memory,
To which one can’t relate,
It takes a special talent,
To keep oneself in shape.

When all around have faltered,
Living up to one’s expectations,
Friends suddenly becoming strangers,
Along with forgotten relations,
It is time to set one’s sights,
On undiscovered destinations.

To search out the missing link,
That makes one’s life complete,
To exercise the flagging spirit,
Until one’s mind overcomes defeat,
To truly know oneself once more,
Turning the ebbing tide of retreat.

When one finally accepts the Karma,
That belongs to man by right,
Thoughts finding the given destiny,
Illuminated by inner sight,
One’s dream eventually touches peace,
Where life blossoms in the light.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Often, the shallows are a good place to be,
Once out of there, no going back, not ever,
Once noticed, return is virtually impossible,
And all pedestals are shaky, no roots: none!

Ensure buoyancy, for one must sink or swim,
So much expected, so much demanded,
One may think shallows are unkind, a waste,
They are safe, though, friendly, pleasant,
Conducive company encouraging creation.

Once out of them, away from safe shores,
New challenges arise, new horizons, all new,
Making one desperate not to fail, not to sink,
One must swim, swim for your life; swim hard,
For it hurts to disappoint, it hurts so much.

Without the grassy bank and sandy bottom,
Creation is difficult, beware the sharks: teeth,
Scoot around the crocs, teeth snapping: biting,
Desiring your tender unsuspecting flesh!

See the glory-hogs wallowing, laughing at you,
Howling with derision; they know nothing,
Stupid hacks, every one of them, frolicking,
Performing in the deep, dark, dangerous-depths,
Unaware their blood will soon feed others,
The swirling waters running red: eventually.

Safer here with golden fish and humble toads,
Prometheus swims here as well as anywhere,
Savour the shallows, dance with creativity,
If you must leave, identity switch required,
Even then, watch sharks and crocs: teeth biting,
Often, the shallows are a good place to be.

©Paul Chafer 2014

Yes, only a mother, truly knows,
The true extent of her child’s woes.
Pain blossoming so deep inside,
Hurting so, while trying to hide
From a mother’s, knowing eyes,
Confident that mother, never pries.

Instead she gives her sound advice,
Being agreeable, saying how nice,
The flower garden looks today,
While in a sublime, pleasant way,
She soothes the inner aching pain,
Removing all the stress and strain.

She sees the strengths, weaknesses,
Gifts with which the child is blessed,
The nature of all burdensome traits,
Heart’s desires, the loves, the hates,
Character blooming through the years,
Sharing laughter, along with the tears.

Reflected within the child’s face,
Throughout awkward early grace,
She herself soon becomes exposed,
And as intrinsic recognition shows,
She gathers to her humbled breast
A tireless love that knows no rest.

The child hoards with thoughtless ease,
Bumps and bruises and skinned knees,
And if the hurts are too much to bear,
A child knows mother is always there,
Her calming words soon gently caress,
Soothing all troubles with tenderness.

The child grows and finds another
Person to love as much as mother,
But the bond of life remains forever,
Cannot be broken, not now, not ever,
And the child realizes as it grows,
Yes, only a mother; truly knows.

©Paul M Chafer 2015

A solitary, single, step, is where it began,
Travelling the road, we all must tread,
Letting the world know us, as we are,
Not just how we think we should be,
Compliant members, of our society.

We’re always learning from the past,
Guided to live and enjoy the present,
Our experiences creating the future,
Happiness, success: not destinations,
But journeys, devoid; of all limitations.

First, love oneself, cherishing self-belief,
Ignore jealousy, hurting with malice,
Celebrate, individuality of free-will,
Choosing, spontaneity, or even a plan,
A solitary, single, step, is where it began.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Sitting alone: gently poking the embers.
Outside, children shriek in the street,
The dull thud of many running feet,
Go unheard by this child of the blitz;
His mind chained to the horrors he remembers.

Remaining locked inside his terrible fear,
From the Luftwaffe flying overhead,
Their murderous drone, his worst dread.
So run, poor child of the blitz,
And pray you receive the all clear.

Shunned by those who can’t understand;
This boy in the shape of a man,
Surviving the best way he can.
A forgotten child of the blitz,
Searching for his lost Wonderland.

People see it, plainly written in his eyes,
Passing him by; passing the blame,
Another victim for the war to claim.
A shell shocked child of the blitz,
When death rained freely, out of the skies.

Forever alert for those dangers long passed,
Listening for the sirens shrill whine,
Is their silence a very good sign?
For a terrified child of the blitz,
Continually bombed, and burned and gassed.

He desperately wants to forget, and has tried!
But the memories hack, and they hack,
And the terror comes creeping back.
So remember, this child of the blitz,
Who once lived, but who’s life sadly died.

© Paul Chafer 2014

You were in a tail-spin, (You remember?)
Of course you do, endlessly falling,
Churning dark clouds for company,
Every silver-lining has a cloud.

So I reached right in, (you were so blind.)
Placed your trembling hand on the controls,
Although, you did not trust me, (did you?)
Not at first, although with good cause,
Because you were dizzy, disorientated.

But slowly, ever so slowly, we relaxed,
Pulled you out of the dive, up and away,
Banking, climbing, power ramping up,
Juddering through the stutter-stall,
Until we were purring, a throaty growl.

A big cat in a poorly constructed cage,
Bursting free, guided by rainbows,
Flickering smile insinuating itself upon your face,
(So lovely) on your beautiful lips.

Without really noticing, (smooth as silk)
We coasted along in open skies,
Rah, French kissing the gentle swell of the sea,
Transforming everything into a mirror,
Reflections captured in burnished bronze,
Can I release your hand now? (don’t gasp)
Yes, my love, you are flying again.

© Paul Chafer 2014