Lady Earth

Determined, steely and old she was, but composed, respected and faithful she was,

Touched the hearts of many she did, honest and loving she was,

She came into my life briefly without warning, learned me she did,

With her ways, simple and humane, she cared, she did,

Made me feel young and old she did, recognised I was,

She came but for a moment she did, elegantly humble she was,

Woman of the earth, she is, was, for that moment with me, she was,


Smile with me...


Black Swan

Beautiful tales of a swan, black and white, out on a rippled lake,

Meandering faintly like meaning tantalising the reality of each day,

An oddity in an otherwise serene world of no mistakes,

            Put together exceptionally so that its disturbance is pleasant in a way,

Webbed feet paddle furiously in murky waters for their own sake,

Propelling the swan through life, through strife, towards a reality that won’t fade,

All around are reflections, past selves, cracked by the ripples in space,

Ignored like the echoes of the old voices that said everything would be okay,

And it was, eventually, when the swan learned the art of forgiving blame,

Before all those mystifying times when a rogue imagination forced play,

Alone in a finite head space cramped with plucked feathers of shame,

As if stillborn in that one egg that mattered, the one that made it to age,

To this point, to this moment, to this wonderful display,

An awakening of one so unique, a releasing of all the rage…


At The Gate

Open the gate my hands hurt,

I’m on my shattered knees, swollen toes pointing backwards,

Let me in to quench my rusty thirst,

I can only whisper the pleas, please, spoken words no longer matter,

This must be some sort of ancient curse,

My skin is blackened and creased, I am a man only more battered,

Hear me for I’ve never been to church,

I’m unshaven, a body of fleas, my best moments were acted,

But still I remain of this universe,

The good and the bad are my galaxies, my truth in time and space scattered,

Open the gate I am of the Earth,

At one with the chaos of the trees and the beasts, the meaningless haphazard,

My heart has already burst,

There’s nothing left but hardened pieces, the sadness and madness practiced,

Open the gate I know I am not the first,

To run scared from their own peace, dreams left soaking in a swollen mattress,

Open the gate and take what’s left of this serf,

A humble servant, or slave at least, one who only mastered unwanted habits,

I have been stripped of everything and returned to the dirt,

Those left behind will be put at ease, and life will go on as it fashions…


Broken Eyes

Strips of my being wrap tightly around your essence,

Like the wings of a newborn butterfly shielding and reflecting,

The gentle truth of my heart’s confessions,

Causes ripples so powerful and delightful and yet mysteriously undetected,

Through broken eyes I keep a steady watch while you rest your senses,

Forgetting, becoming and releasing anything worth repenting,

We connect silently like meaning and purpose in a well thought sentence,

And find nothing but formidable will armed with menacing self acceptance,

Ready to die for things we little understand because we have true intentions,

Worlds apart and yet still we crank to each other’s rhythms like mechanical extensions,

I am your footsteps your shadow your forgotten powers lost in the enigmatic lessons,

While you undoubtedly are the long awaited answer to my oldest question…who am I?

Watching you through broken eyes...

Breathless Life

I wake from amongst the debris and ashes of lost words,

In a still world where raindrops fall horizontally forming lines,

Where lives have lived, laughed and touched the pulsing frontier,

Guardians with broken wings have been left behind by stampeding herds,

Chasing a future they have been deceived about but convinced by time,

Hoping that what they keep dear and sacred was actually real once here,

Souls reverie some told stories of scenes that made a single world turn,

For acceptance and practice make tales reveal untold sides,

That from far off breaks off  that which at times doth not appear,

From meanings that seem clear but void of anything sanctioned by lords,

From realms misunderstood by men and their claimed truth revealing finds,

The distance, uncared for memories that now seem un-sincere,

Linear perception seems at best the best of the obscenely observed,

Tantalising the nerves of the worst of mankind,

Labelled and disabled by the thirst of those who fear,

It is clear those who see cannot claim to have been here first,

Even when they find fault with those who have fought and died,

For the existence of a prescribed history that can with each idea thought appear,

From the system’s sheer dynamics the ringing bells are heard,

Loud distinct syllables of astute fortitude of the voices of those who have died,

For nothing but a cause that their unconscious thought unclear…