"syd" poems
PENTECOST = PINKSTEREN ( in Dutch )
Especially for Mr. Syd 4ever !! God's greatest Blessings for you.
MIS - understand - in = means stand in another place,
misunderstanding = do not understand each other.
Pentecost is the language that everyone understands,
for they are pentecosted.
An empty sack can not walk right or stand upright (African proverb).
Pentecost means that we are again people
who can understand each other in the Spirit of Jesus,
let us pray to God that He again gives us the spirit of Jesus.
Let us pray singing,
Let us pray singing,
that this Pentecost will give us new strength again,
that this Pentecost may bless us again,
that this Pentecost will give us strength again to forgive our fellow man,
that this Pentecost will breathe again life in us,
with the power that is able to forgive and overcome all the mistakes and misunderstandings,
and we will also experience as such:
Forgive and be forgiven
Do not look whether we are rich or poor,
this Pentecost may allow us to experience
that feeling of complete pleasure
in all total love and peace.
That this cup may always overflow with solidarity, love and care.
Peace of the Lord be upon us
until the end of time.
Amen....
a Dedication to Syd 4ever,
with unconditional love, Sylvia.
Sylvia Frances Chan
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 9:28 AM UTC
When I was 16 and done
Cleaning out his horse stalls
Mr. Sodie Hampton said,
"Son, don't never work for less than
$1.50 an hour the rest of your life."
Momma who grew up choppin and pickin
Cotton said it a different way,
"A hard day's work deserves a
A good day's pay."
Momma also said,"You ain't any better
Than anyone else, but nobody's
Better than you either."
My Tennessee Momma also said,
"Son, your word is your bond and
A man looks after those weaker than him."
I learned as a man that children come first.
Syd and Sam taught me love
I'd never known.
We are all children of the same God
Breathed to life with the spark of
The Divine.
That's all why it ain't workin today.
We forgot all that.
We ain't all individual robots
With the strongest devouring the weakest.
And too many never worked for
Mr. Sodie Hampton and learned there's a
Floor beneath which we will not work
Indignities we will not bear
And disrespect we won't accept.
And our children deserve joy and freedom
And even skittles on a summer night
No matter their color or their clothes.
Too many of us got it ass-backwards
We make up all kind of reasons to
Hate and fight and **** and some
Even try to justify reape and ******
When Momma and Mr. Sodie Hampton said
It so different so long ago
In Tennessee and Missouri.
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
There is a note that lives between thought and slumber,
That’s when I thought of you today
A harmonica lay in my hand, the reeds looking at me silly,
Play, I imagined it say, and imagined it was really there.
In my mind we are still walking a dusty bluesy road, our jeans torn and worn
In this midday dream the blues is red and wore a hat; I let out:
This, is not the blues from which my hippie son was born.
I sigh, at the sight of a synthesizer kissing a harmonica, the synth in your head, the harmonica pregnant with my heart.
Our blues drove us to momentary madness, because Syd Barrett was always jealous
Like fights that happened on Sundays and when we choose to mock, then cruelness.
Come midnight someone awakes and someone is being wakened,
And outside, nothing is lit, But she's not afraid, just letting you know she was waking.
Your bedside was colored, certainly psychedelic, but was almost always red
I lay there, like a pregnant harmonica making love to a trusty guitar, the guitar thrusting, the harmonica trusting.
I confront salvation with a straight face, a cigarette now intruding
No, I yell, the harmonica sounds the same, still on the key of C,
But by a synthesizer you sat, the harmonica lay there, heavy with child, looking at me,
And as I stare back, I've seen: indeed you have chosen the synth.
A note creeps in between the high and dry of low, I insist that kismet needs a little shove
Just a push, a new pair of eyes, another heart and a memory that knows only love,
Spiralling in Syd's Milky Way, me drowning, me begging in exchange for you,
I tried moaning a tune but the blues have discolored and turned simply blue.
I face the devil now, I try to bargain, but he sings, 'the blues trusts no one, no longer.'
The devil makes a face, sings to me then says, 'you've forgotten that I'll always remember.”
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 10:10 PM UTC
Our lot was not to stay all night;
In kneeling praise by bathroom stalls.
Alcohol numbed your honesty's bite,
wrote her destiny on the divider walls.
And we weren't the kind to cheat, don't believe,
All the loose lips half-cross town,
Last call patrons who watch me leave,
And shut this ****** down...
Like Zane and Beckett, so convinced,
Their **** would last forever,
Bad enough to make you wince,
If they spend one more second together.
Or Jane and Kinney, young, driven, and full,
Of lust or something similar.
Don't be surprised, you've seen this fire,
The end? ...all too familiar.
And pretty Syd had all the gall,
and Pony Boy thought he knew the score...
but he's just a **** like so much Pyrex,
Stuffed inside his paper *****
But Ashtray Woman with ***** Mouth,
And monster's blood on toilet tissue,
Is just another frightened girl,
With real and dangerous daddy issues.
Now, here, at the close (I'm still glad to say),
You deserve almost everything, that you've won,
Our karma arose ( and, in time, took the day ).
Now I ponder regrets in the hours before dawn,
It wasn't the when, or with whom we may lay,
or the time in the morning before I should be gone,
It's more about how we desired to stay...
When we gazed into stars lying flat on your lawn.
I once craved your poison but, now, in my way,
I'm actually glad
to see you gone.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 11:26 PM UTC
( Feat Syd Rivers)
(Feat Gwen Johnson)
Blast of bright flames
glowing in the horizon,
igniting the trees
A prayer to God
releasing celestial drops,
water saves the land.
Blowing is the wind
carrying seeds of new life
gently caressing
Today’s barren tree
tomorrow’s fruitful harvest
live expectantly.
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 10:13 AM UTC
Im a stranger to my oldest friends. they don't say that but I see it in them when they pretend to comprehend my failed attempt to act myself again. Social events are NOT my best. i go around and tell myself this isn't the end, You still have a grasp on what you use to represent.. but i can't think clear and even though i laugh my hearts always depressed. Not to mention every situations like ten times intense.. "ok you got THIS act normal " I sit there thinking about formal conversation i can start up. so i blurt out. Its irelevant and awkward.. i quite down. in my head Trying to figure out how i lost my interlectual side.. I'm weird, I'm broken, ive lost my mind. My own thoughts constantly poking my eyes ,, pushed to the side by visual lights and un natural highs. What have i done, All this beauty lost to a hit on the tounge. Acid casualty number what? I can't be the only one, i cry i cry why can't i see the sun?
R.i.p Syd Barret
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 8:58 AM UTC
I'm so sad I'm sadder than this
My underwear smells like the pizza I ate
I don't expect you to give me a kiss
I open my window and pretend to feel great.
I'm so bad I'm sadder than this
Drained down in gluttony I'm a stuck pig
Oh well, I'm dreaming, isn't that what they say?
Guess I'll just get up and have another day.
I'm so rad but I'm sadder than this
Still not waiting for your soft kiss
I've been looking for a new accomplice
Pass me
A season
If you wanna
Exist.
How happy they are when they start.
And how sick of them I am when they go.
I'm playing with your everything
But I
Can't find your heart.
Sometimes I know that it shows.
I'm just a lad but I'm sadder than this
Sometimes I know, you just
Waited too long
To listen
To that Syd Barrett album
All by yourself
But in the sad town...
My underwear smells like the pizza I ate;
The kiss I can't have is so soft...
That's alright; I'll kiss the sky;
That's okay; I'll take it off...
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 7:18 AM UTC
Dreamers dreaming the impossible
possible
dreamers asleep awake
alive and free
dreamers who answer calls
dreamers who know it all
dreamers with the music you need
dreamers who give you love in need
no matter what
if anything
this is the biggest lesson i've ever learnt riding on this ship
that sometimes you can choose your family
and they are your friends
and that. IS respect.
we walk on sacred ground
inside and out
so mad respect to you
and you
and all of you who pervade the all seeing ocean of cosmicness nice doin buisness
don't mess , tease and test hotline to humor is the peruser of this horizon
and i see we've reached land
we're all dreamers - ghosts driving machines
how many ghosts are drifting into machines these days
i wonder where our perspective can change , when we DARE to dream
;)
any dream
any time
day dream s
reality's gleam , bright awake alive like a sunrise with wine and cigarettes
surveying the coastal horizon
these people are all calling
screams and screams maybe your not tuned vibrational yet to the symphonies of earths war cry
the sleeping dragon has awoken
you dared to touch her jewels , her gems
you fools.
mine anything- but do not touch her babies
and no
i'm not talking about diamonds - they are not that rare- it's where you value more than money when it shows who cares
there are whole PLANETS made up of diamonds
we talking about home - ourselves
how rare is life ?
well for all we know
we could be the only ones
and we spend time killing each other?
I am the executioner
i have come to give you your wake up call
we are here to do a job
what? i know what i'm good at ..... (1)
fighting the enemies of truth
i stand for justice
served fairly
Karma is time
i'm talking past lives now
anyway
the point is
we've all got a reason
to be here
go find it
( it- may just be a person too )
or several people ?
or everyone ?
or for no one
ghosts in machines
whatever .
i just wanna say peace
this is my peace which i wrote primarily for me
and we wrote it together
all of us
we need peace
and we need quiet
the old kingdom is crumbling
we are
new
we are the ones who choose
we become our own judges
and executioners
we become our own best friends in the darkest of times
and someone once said
the sun always rises
and what a beautiful that maybe sunrise was
just like black magic
call me the magician
my name is SYD.
and i live in all of you .
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 11:42 PM UTC
geselsies oor stomende boere troos
kombuis warm gekuier
stemme weerkaats sagkens van mure
my verlore jong meisie dae
as ek maar kon weet
woorde aan die wind
wys en syd versprei
soos die skerwe van my hart
onherroepbaar weg , stof bedek
die inuitputbare gemis
geen ander skaduwee kan begryp
tyd heel niks
jy leer leef in leemte en skerwes
huis met krake en gebreuke
tot als in tuimel
soet versoening
tot dan
siels kreute, hallelujah
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 4:24 AM UTC
I saw God's spark set us in motion.
Hell broke loose and molten metals
exploded into a universe too big to
imagine. Light chased light and suns
were born. Globes crashed into globes.
Someone's in my head but it's not me.
Mar 25, 2023
Mar 25, 2023 at 9:37 PM UTC
"Someday we will foresee obstacles,
through the blizzards,
through the blizzards."
Beautiful words filled with hope,
words so relatable.
Words coupled with a soothing sound,
thank you,
Syd Matters.
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 9:05 PM UTC
There's a power inside
everyone
It cannot be quantified
could this be destructive?
or help us stay alive?
The line between
Mr Pink
and the
Madcap's laughs
For every gain
there was a loss
What gain?
a song
called
Arnold Lane
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 7:31 AM UTC
my feet had barely greeted california
when my face matched the new summer,
cheeks blooming uneven,
eyes green as moss
and every face i glared upon
avoided looking too long.
walking through my least favorite airport
chin high, silent and ugly and wet,
i grieved for myself, i pitied my future, and mourned my past.
something lodged in my throat screamed with more assurance
and clarity and confidence than i have ever known
"this is not where i belong!"
i cried for my feet no longer squishing silica on white beaches
old skin disappearing in tiny fish
or kissing rainforest mulch, under-dressed in flipflops
taunting flora and fauna and fate
i cried for my skin, abused and bronzed
exfoliated in world heritage parks, the first shower in days
and oiled from water crossings in a run-down four wheel drive
a beard of blemishes i didn't bother to hide.
i cried for my ears, robbed of every accent,
of the crashing waves and roar of waterfalls,
or the same six songs played in every club in cairns
and the pterodactyl screech of flying foxes.
i cried for my hair, for my hands, for my nose.
i cried for my mouth and my tongue and my legs.
mostly, i cried for the death of laughter that started in the
pit of my stomach and rose up like carbonation
to my chest and my lungs and my neck and burst
like floodwaters in dorrigo
the elation and exhilaration and euphoria of being alive
that spilled out of me in screams and shrieks
and bubbled and flushed and insisted
so fiercely so strongly so urgently
that to relent was not even a choice but a right
and then half a year later
i sat dully in a fluorescent corridor at my transfer terminal
feeling my heart retreat, defeated
dreading the long months ahead
promising nothing but drudgery and boredom
letting the tears drip onto my boarding pass
black ink lamenting, too
and not a single person approached
or spoke to me
until i asked to wash away the moment
with a diminutive bottle of ***
a mile from the surface.
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
like Syd and Nancy
like Paul and Linda
like Kurt and Courtney
like John and Yoko
like Elvis and Priscilla
I want us to be reckless
I want us to be free
I want us to not to be afraid of what's coming
I want us to be just us
but I know it's not going to happen
Why should they care?
why should they say?
denial
go on
I know what you're thinking
and it's okay
irrational
nonsense
everything
you're just being bent
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
The springs’ mud-love rain comfortably at rest
Leaning on, faintly, my car.
As the smell of my ex reminds me of why
Things are the way they are.
Such familiarity from a jacket
Winters crest it bares
Me, too weak to refuse.
Oh spring, so rich with kick and snare
With static
“Stones travel in two’s”
-it doesn’t matter
A coffee and cigarette silken voice
Offered me its palm
I bowed, showing my respect but still with
Haste it clapped in symbols
-I needed to learn
Jim was in the passenger seat
And Syd was in the back
We spoke of smoke and fermented things
The substance that prophets lack
What onlookers would see
Seemed like a dreadful plea
For medication and a cheap exchange of words.
Still within this car, grip tire with tar
A spiritual rush sat throne
And as the sun sets West, as well as the rest
I too am still alone.
Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 7:47 PM UTC
Kal ki hi to baat h
Jab mai maa ka hath pakde
School ki or jata tha.
Ha kal ki hi to baat hai,
Jab mai baadlo par sawaar
Sapno ki dunia me
Dur kahi udd jaya krta tha.
Ha ye wahi daur tha,
Jab pariyo ki dunia ka apna wajood hua karta tha.
Syd sapno ko pakdne chah me
Ye sab kahi peeche chut gaya
Ha mai bachpan ki mayanagri se nikal
Is bheed me aa gya.
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 7:19 AM UTC
I see her in the ocean breeze,
In dark and churning stormy seas,
honey eyes taste salty air,
She’s curls forming in untamed hair.
I see her in the deepest night,
A starry sky of freckled light,
An asteroid, her fall to earth,
Caused ripples through the universe.
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 12:22 PM UTC
i want to curl up with you;
rainy Sunday afternoon
watching old Hepburn films
and you stroke my hair
and i stare at you.
i want to read to you;
candle-lit room
scented with mangos -
and you rest your legs on mine
and i smile at you.
i want to get high with you;
flowers in bloom
you smell ashy
and we listen to Syd Barrett
and I cry with you.
i want to ride with you
sunlit bedroom -
sweaty expressions
and palma violets gush from my depths
and i die with you.
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 9:28 AM UTC
***
I never thought of
of status quo
I just went
crashing
against the walls
logical had
nothing to do with me
it was for real
abstinence
of every rule
out of eyesight
I caught afire
drew the fire on
drew me amidst
a flame
and went
completely
******* mad
like Syd did
sang on
shined as
long as I could
May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 5:44 AM UTC
did not pick anything
the moment i walked out of this Japanese bookstore, by known means
picked up a monologue
a Chinese looking young man entertaining himself looking at the security guard,
'I could not read any Chinese ... '
gesturing in the air shaking his black backpack, off i went
wondering he might shrug
a sad thing, like an apple
napping with its pear buddies knowing nothing about its past life, the age
before genetical modifications
well presented at markets, feeling
fresh and cool like us on summer beaches until being picked by consumers
a price to pay before they leave, a fair one
unlike those tomatoes fluctuate their lives
simply because of good looking red faces
rarely grow up naturally
Mar 10, 2016 SYD
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 7:32 PM UTC
I write this poem,for my four legged friend
so loving ,so delicate,my praise never ends
Is he a cat ? , a mouse ? or a dog ? none of the former
lets call him a cog.
,follows me round, close to my leg this is true
think the little ****** has stuck with glue
but when he is naughty,he stalks slow like a cat,
curls up in a ball and could fit in a hat,
He dont bark ,he just yaps ,god how he yaps,
but with all of his flaws,please get down ***** paws
he"s so pleased to see me ,maybe wishes he could be me
will be here the end,cause a dogs man"s best friend
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 9:40 AM UTC
The Chelsea Hotel
We remember it well
An' its splendid interior decor
By never setting foot there
A very Bohemian Rhapsody
Two Dylans are thrilling
One Bob an' one Thomas
One life and one death
A song and poetic requiem
A Sad Eyed Beautiful moment
Another unquietly into the night
Embracing the dread valley below
Sweet Syd and Saint Nancy
Perished like lovers in drama
No light at yonder window
For a rocking Romeo and Juliet
Breathless in period splendour
Lovers in tragically beautiful embrace
Immortality in the perfect place
Edie set her room on fire
Our heroine couldn't get much higher
As the ceiling just got lower
Another window was another score
When the ceiling hit the floor
Unbroken she was beautiful like a woman
Dancing eyes across the hotel floor
Her world moving in that revolving door
The Chelsea Hotel has more to tell
That Hotel California couldn't rival
That's why it’s there in New York City
An island of dreams in a concrete ocean
Where all lost writers find a paradise
Checking in is our one remaining dream
Checking it out our beautiful possibility.
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 12:43 PM UTC
Why not stay for a while.
Hey Ma.
It’s me.
Alex put the dishes in the graveyard.
But I didn’t believe her.
She’s been studying for the chair leg test.
But I guess all the best rockin’ chairs come from over here in Laurel
Canyon.
My bud said he got tired of all the mice in Greenwich.
So he bought a whole cage of em.
Syd & Jim took a hike.
They’re looking as thin as ever.
The neon sky Drops packs of cigarettes and water jugs regularly.
So we’re all in tip top shape.
Don’t forget to close your over door.
Your last son.
G.M
Garrett Johnson.
Oct 30, 2019
Oct 30, 2019 at 3:45 PM UTC