Saturday, May 30, 2015

Dropping Like Flies

              Dropping like Flies.




who would see
the way life fails us? 
time lost, space left
as everything eventually dies.
cold the slumber,
felt a final fear of loss.
the way to move forward
gone,
gone in a blinking
of the proverbial eye,
so real the falling,
we all eventually die,
my oh my,
the longest pursuance
of the original lie, why
oh why?

troubles left
to the fray of life,
where no-one escapes
the strife of the knife,
the falling epoch of time,
no longer yours,
no longer mine.
called to angels,
my friends, the believers,
a force of knowing
the hope still glowing,
to find rest in peace,
a day they gave in
a last gasp of release,
cancer the reaper, please
accept my goodbye!

R.I.P.
Monk.

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Drift Would

Drift Would



When the swollen river
Would carry me along,
I could have cared
No less in my song.

To be drifting on,
Going with the flow,
Was a real blessing
More, much more than I’d know.

Caught in the pool,
Eddy’s of twisting fate
Some unknown strange disaster
Now making me relate.

Comfort was too overrated,
Once the stream of time,
No sense or purpose,
No reason, no rhyme.

Lifted by the turbulence,
Harried under turgid force,
Lost for a direction,
Heading for something worse.

Battled to the current,
Of how life should flow,
Pressures above me pushing,
And much more below.






The Eagle has landed

The Eagle has Landed



Take on the mountain,
Deft to challenge open skies,
Once a flight
Was sent into heaven,
Courage for the fall,
Daring to be lost,
Vision in a nightscape,
Where darkness prevailed,
Was all I’d desired,
In the coming of the dawn.

Gone that Eagle eyed view,
Moved to a place
Where solace and shelter,
Provide more sanctuary
Than the prevailing wind,
Than the taste of silence,
From the heart of utopia,
In the soul of the world,
And bound by trust,
In all the love,
These wings could provide.



‘Sentiment for Freedom’



Of Life and Men

 Of Life and Men



Grander plans would be novice,
Where things would flow in dreams,
Only there can be the unfolding,
Of what you want from me, it seems.
Captured by the flight of fancy,
Under skies of the wandering moon,
You have left me knowing nothing,
And effectively felled me whence I’d swoon.
Maybe you don’t know your mind,
Or perhaps forgot how soft I am,
Did you see me a rock of comfort,
Forgetting that I’m just a man?

Could you sense the beginning,
Of days where you’d be lonely,
In  room where you’d be to me,
The light of life, my one and only?
Break the pattern now or suffer,
If you’d find a chance to enjoy peace,
Where the demons want to take you,
Is not a place you’ll find release.
Take a chance and feel the fear,
Grow where love will set you free,
Don’t be thinking life’s against you,
Just because it sent you to me..!





Saturday, May 09, 2015

Take My Hand

Take My Hand





What would I do, if it weren’t
For you, and all the special
Love you helped me to?
There simply are not moments
Where I don’t love you, and
All this passion so very true.
Eternity could come and roll on
Bye, but you’d still be here,
To catch my eye and satisfy.
Still I wonder here I spy,
The beauty of you, with my
Little eye, so pure, so do I testify.

Make no error of my yearning,
To make love a home, held
Under your skin that senses burning.
Captivated in a way so very holy,
I’m floored to breath delight
That will bring my ego lowly.
Here this night on divan of
Gold, I sense my release to you
Is something precious I’ve sold.
Ripened ‘pon the meadow in
Heaven, you send me crazy alive,
Acting as a boy of eleven.

Walk with me throughout life,
Come tenderly to my side again,
Devoted as any precious wife.
Fill me now as only you can,
Deliver this craziness in me
To a place I’ll be your loving man.
Conquered by this smile and
All your sweet-hearted patience,
I’m blessed to see where I’ll stand.
Known to you in even simple
Pleasures, I’ll never walk alone,
Because I know you’ll take my hand…






The Woodcutter’s Chopper.

The Woodcutter’s Chopper.





Sharon was different now,
A woman in all her glory,
Since the time she lost
Her chopper, and definitely since
That time she gained her smile.
What good was a chopper now?
The manliness of Barry’s tool,
His woodcutters chopper now gone
She could smile as only a woman
Can. A sense of freedom from
The endless days of depression,
Of feelings of angst and regret,
A whole lifetime of sorrow,
Nearly all had left her then,
When Barry found her new
Tomorrow, not one to borrow
But keep her floating high.

Held as one who’s tender,
Soft, gentle, not so regimental,
Glowing with the light of life,
Perhaps now, even a wife?
Stitches heal the wounds of time,
Some enchanted romantic nature
Yet alive to find and mind.
Bruised a little by the apple
So obvious Barry’s former life.
Gruelling days in contemplation,
To be a butterfly of nature,
Or stay as the brute force
Of mans domination, and all
 The mental examination. Was
Sharon’s task, too much to ask?
Upon the table, she arose
To become someone very able.

Laughter in the face of hate,
Discrimination and segregation,
Gone now far away, some say,
To herald how demand for
Choice has altered even here
Her voice and style. The deep
Tone of Barry’s quest to know,
What happiness changing this
Could ultimately then bestow,
And field the sweet release,
Sharon took to live at peace.
Gobsmacked by physique, the
High lines and boobs, yes great
Big boobs, hoorah…… Barry was
Gone when Sharon came, and
Well, now even the grooming,
Would never ever be the same….