This poem was written to commemorate a visit to Scotland many years ago, the journey up from London was long and tiring. Overnight by train and without the benefit of a sleeper birth - I wouldn't want to repeat that journey but the end was worth the discomfort.
Edinburgh - Coulton Hill - 24 Nov 84
In the darkness, morning Arrival We climbed the hill To watch the day begin Beneath us, in their cars And buses The people rush to work Oblivious
The darkness Slowly lifts And we watch the ships Slip Slowly
Magenta fire On the clouds And Arthur's Seat Is silhouetted Against the Dawn
I have been reminded that it actually took me nearly a year to actually put this poem on paper, I find this hard to believe but I will not argue with the wisdom of a Mystic Musician.
I just felt that I wanted to play with words - not that this is in any way unusual - and have returned to a verse form that I used many years ago. I haven't shown any of them in this blog yet but I was preparing lunch and was inspired to produce another acrostic.
For those who do not know what this form is, a brief explanation; a word or phrase is written vertically and each letter forms the initial letter of another word - it would be more easily understood if the example here is examined.
I was inspired in my choice of trigger word by a card selected from a deck of inspirational cards, sadly I cannot recall the name of the deck or the company that made them. If I can find this information I will insert it here.
Nurturing - 30 Jul 09
Now taking me Under your caring touch Reaching the places in me That are usually forgotten, Unremembered. Inviting me to Rest and be restored In your gentle caress, where Nothing can harm me. Gentle love.
Happy to find that I can still do this.
I may well show some of my earlier acrostics as well some day.
I know that this is the wrong time of year to post this poem but this is a 'non-chronologic' blog and can be accessed at any time of the year - so, if you are reading at the appropriate time...Happy Winter Solstice.
Between Moon and Sun - 21 Dec 91
On a warm night In December I listen to the sea Talking to the trees In my garden.
I listen to the wind She is singing She is howling. She is whispering. She is telling me Her secrets.
Full moon; Though clouds hide her face I know she is there Watching
The wind and the moon And the Darkling Sea Sing the song of the Solstice The enchantment of the growing Son
The Son of the Sun The Oaken King The one who is all But without her Who is naught
The poem was written at exactly the right time of the year and has even more power for me because of it - hope you get as much pleasure from reading as I did when writing.
My garden stands about a mile from the sea and when it has been stormy the constant roar from the waves on the rocks can be clearly heard, add that into the mix your imagination provides and you too can stand in the garden to listen...
When contemplating what to post today I allowed myself to be guided and was interrupted in my selection by Twitter asking for attention, all three updates had something to do with Dance.
I tend not to argue with Spirit and the suggestions made, so I shall just get out of the way...
Dancing Through the Dark - 20 Oct 96
In the darkness We danced. We touched, Moving together Waiting for the dawn. Venus watched us In the growing light Knowing we were one
Our footsteps Tread the ancient ways We stir the sands of time With our dance.
From darkness we were born To darkness we shall go Eventually. And in between...our dance Shall mark the moments Count the seconds Of the darkness Waiting for the dawn Waiting for the sun To kiss our lives
To bless our movements In the dance.
I don't really have anything further to say, it is fun when Spirit gives gentle - and not so gentle - hints as to the direction to take, sometimes said direction is really unexpected.
Hopefully I will be able to take the direction I choose next time.
Before I actually post the poem for today, I have to make it clear that I obtained permission from the 'star' of the show. I was initially reluctant to put these - yes, there are a few in the series - poems out here but, after consideration and consultation we felt that these were images that formed who I am and how my style developed.
Friday Morning - 11 Jun 81
Blinking back the tears And pretending that it's the rain Falling in my eyes. Smiling at you now Trying not to show the pain Yet more tired lies.
Funny how depression is catching Funny how the sadness grows I was alright till I met you, But, isn't that how life goes?
I woke up this morning feeling quite good Though the daylight outside was grey There was no reason to feel at all unhappy I thought "Just another day"
I can still hear the [unwritten] '70s pop song tune running behind the words, one day I may well write the music to go with some of my poems - but that is for another day.
Life wasn't as bad as it looked, there are only a few poems in this series, to be shown eventually.
Once again I allowed chance to decide what poem should be posted this time and, again, I feel that something going on in me validates the choice. I am not going to argue but, instead, I invite you to read and maybe comment on...
New Thoughts - 01 Jan 03
The memories and half forgotten schemes Of all the years gone by Still haunt the hallways of my mind And arise to taunt my waking thoughts
We might, we may, we ought All gone... Some were realised Some wait to be re-ignited
But new dreams are waiting They feed off the memories And give rise to fresh ideas Fresh, new thoughts
But occasionally An old imprint is brought to life To walk again like an aged ghost Of a life I used to inhabit
And sadness tinges the happiness I feel, as I recall the times I have experienced And wonder if I will ever feel The same way again
Old, new, where am I going? Deep within, I know But still I wonder If
I have lived through so many different realities that I have difficulty in separating them - maybe that is what these poems are about, hope you enjoy looking at the fragments.
As promised, this is the second poem in the Colours sequence. It completes a cycle in the structure - if two poems can be considered to be a cycle - returning to a point close to where the whole thing started.
You can see that for yourself, so why don't I just let you read it...
Colours II - 21 Oct 00
Gold In a new dawn Burning
Sunlight Warming, coaxing the flowers Bloom
Thoughts Of a new day, a new life Opening
Now, dancing through my mind And my heart, the wishes Of a new-born day Gathering in truth Alive And welcoming The reality
Green The growing, unfolding life Blossoming
As gradually the daylight fades And the sky darkens Starlight sings to serenade The passing day A slow drift into the fading light Dreaming in the Afterglow
We never, ever, return to the same place we started - remember that it is an on-going journey.
I really must remember to make notes to myself so that I can recall what inspired a poem into creation, at the very least it would enable me to make some properly valid comment when posting them here. Otherwise you will just have to continue to put up with this general space-filling chatter.
[Thankful that you can't see me grinning]
I cannot recall what caused this poem to be birthed but it seems appropriate now, several events in my life are suddenly important and this poem was chosen totally at random. These things seem to mesh together in a way that tells me that Soul is giving me a nudge - again.
On the Journey 26 Oct 02
I have been watching You move In your dreamtime
I have been listening to You talk To your spirits
In those dreams And those conversations We have communed More deeply Than we ever did Before
In my dreams In my speech I have learned my truth
And I open up my mind And my eyes I open up my ears, And my soul Can see Where I'm going
This may have triggered something in the way you view things and think too, comments are invited - if you feel like giving some feedback.
This poem was inspired by explorations into Wicca and what it could offer. What I discovered, is not really relevant to this poem but some of the images are too strong to ignore. Here they are, entangled with a flavour of the Tarot as well but these things are not necessary for the reader to know - just let the feel of the images wash over you.
Elements 13 Jan 96
The circle drawn Upon the dusty wooden floor Polished by the feet Of ages past
Chalk lines Evoking, invoking Charming, controlling Lit by the candles Five-fold flicker
Air Incense intangible Wreathe writhe Around about Paints the air With perfumed smoke
Fire Candle burning Illuminating Enlightening the dark Lighting the way
Water Cauldron and chalice Drink the life blood Taste the life Drink deep
Earth Stone dark Pentacle To touch and rest The weary pilgrim feet A fool's quest Starts with but a single step
Spirit You and I We see and Touch and Taste We travel on Our footsteps synchronous The dance of life In the circle dance
There is a little hint of Joni Mitchell here too in the reference to 'The Circle Dance', I hope she doesn't mind that I borrowed it for this poem.
Just two short poems this time, they are thematically linked and were written on consecutive days but refer to the same journey from London to my beloved Cornwall. The first is a set of three Senryū, you may have noticed - it is one of my favourite verse forms.
Before I Get There 05 Sep 85
From London, a road Serpentine, westward leading Taking me homeward
City walls fading In the east. Granite hedges Are beckoning me
Sunrise behind me. I watch the shadows shorten And leave the ocean
Mist 06 Sep 85
Gradually Time sliding into an afternoon Of peace The haze of autumn Stretched and torn By hills and trees Left, lying abandoned In the hollows
I had hoped that I would have something totally new to put up today but it wasn't to be. Instead I delve back into my past, again, to offer you this poem - showing you, once again, where I seem to be for most of my life, in the...
Illusions 27 Oct 96
Under the light Of a new full moon Wishing that things were different
Knowing that Even in the cold daylight Of an autumn day Things are never what they seem
Night is day And day... Who can really tell
Illusions sing and dance And play the fool Dare to pull the beard of the goat
That which we wish May hap. Has hap! Is already happening Though not necessarily in the way We wish
It is not such a bad place to be, provided that you have full awareness of the illusion and can play it for what it is and can slide from one to the other without causing ripples in everyone else's illusions of reality.
After yesterdays creation my brain required a little rest, so I take a journey back into my history to present this short poem. It was written to convey a hope for the future when darkness is all around.
Fires 26 Feb 03
When the fires of autumn Have all grown cold And burned to ash I will be there
Through the cold nights Of winter I will be waiting And watching the glow Dance around the embers
And then, when the sun Touches the trees in spring Igniting the blossom I will fan the spark
This is another example of the type of poem I write fairly often, one that explores several views of something.
The first two parts 'came through' almost complete as usual and it was only when I had nearly finished writing it out that I realised that there was a third section to come, I allowed the flow and this is what appeared...
Both Sides - All Sides 14 Jul 09
I dreamed in the night It was a distant place I think Was it past, was it future Or was it even now? I cannot even try To guess
But she was there... Watching me As she has done So many times Very many times Before
I waved But although I knew she saw me All she did Was let her gentle smile Wash over me
She dreamed in the night It was a distant place I knew Not the past or future but In the eternal now We had built For ourselves
Now I am here Watching you As I have always done Every time You came here Before
You waved And I saw you But I knew that It would not be right I smiled so you would know That I saw you
We dreamed in the night It was no place that we Could ever know Without past or future It was no-when The only place We could be
We were there Just watching As we have always done In that eternal place We have always Before
We didn't wave Our hands were too busy Holding each other Embracing Our smiles Intermingled
There are everal points of inspiration for this poem but if I were to tell of them the magic would be removed - and that would never do.
Comments, as ever, are invited...back again soon with the next offering.
I know that this is not the right time of year for this poem to be shown but it felt really good when I re-read it for the first time in several years. In any case, someone may come across this blog at some point in the future and it may well be winter.
Often when I am going through my old poems, or whatever, I look at them and actually question who I was when I wrote them. Guess I will never really know the answer to that question and the exploration of this whole area will be the subject of...what? Another blog perhaps, I shall have to water this seed and see what sprouts.
See the Winter Dance 22 Feb 97
See the winter dance Across the fields Through the trees Among the scarecrows Whose failed works Allow the feathered fiends To plunder the barren fields
See the winter dance Watch her paint her Frosted colours Paling honours In the fading sunlight Shadows stretched between The night and the day
See the winter dance Between the lifeless trees Upon the sleeping land Over the frozen lake Scattering, from her hands The leaves, the snowflakes The drifts that hold your dreams
See the winter dance Dreaming, she holds The summer in her hands. Wishing for the days When the warmth of his love Touches her soul
See the winter dance As she kisses the spring Leading him in the dance That leads to the new life And to her death Willing release Though knowing that She will return Return --- so
See the winter dance
Till next time...in a different season...or maybe a different world.
I had a conversation last night about Japanese poetry and the syllabic forms they are constructed with, most of the poems I have written, in the Japanese style, are in the Senryū mode even though I used to call them Haikū - the content wasn't spiritual so the Senryū name should really apply.
The syllabic form of these two types of poem is in the form of three lines comprising 5:7:5 syllables and is fairly well known and quite popular everywhere.
I did write one poem in another style, the one here, said style being Tanka, the construction is 5:7:5:7:7 syllables. I have to admit that I really prefer the Senryū form - like the ink images where just a few strokes make the image, a few lines of writing can make a really vivid image.
I wish to apologise for this waffling but felt that it was necessary to explain a bit of the background to the poem, sorry if you already knew this; I now present my only ever Tanka poem...
Winter 14 Jun 75
Winter passed, as though A flock of heron - winging Southward, shed feathers White. I dreamt of frozen lakes And streams but found not one.
Only the one poem today because I have been waffling too much, said he grinning.
I was asked recently, how is it that I went to bed so late - and why? I think that the answer to both parts of the question is that I am encouraged to do this by one of my spirit guides. Owl assists access to wisdom and vision and, rather surprisingly - play. I do a lot of my most productive things in the very early hours of the day and this is often when I am shown the little things that grow into poems, stories and whatever else.
This is just one example of this assistance...
July Senryū 12 Jul 09
Tasting the night air Watching clouds skip across stars, Jewels in the sky
Feeling dawn approach Look eastward, sun rising - he Tints clouds, magenta
Changing the mood again today to something a bit lighter, just for the fun of it. I have a few things I intend to post here, some of which may prove to be rather unexpected - you will understand when they arrive. In the meantime I offer...
MuseSongs 24 Sep 2000
Poems dance from my mind To the beat of a merry drum Cavort and play Dance your merry lives away
Fully formed, The Muse hands to me, A song, a poem To whisper, sing To encourage you to dance And clap and sing And wake your Muse
Come sing with me Our words will make a magic, A spell to wipe the tears From the corners of your eyes To cause a smile to break your frown
So Raise a smile Raise a song Sing the sun through the clouds Chant the rainbow into the sky And let us be the ones to say We've had a beautiful day.
Looking around for something to add here I came across this poem and felt that it would be appropriate, for various reasons, for it to put it up here today. I have to admit that it would not be appropriate to publish the reasons but the poem is safe enough.
Remember Me 26 Aug 97
Remember me Remember all those days When we Were together, where we, Together, did all the happy things That I remember And enjoyed
Remember me Remember the touch The gentle caress The gentle touch
Remember me Remember the dreams we shared The songs we sang The dreams we shared
Remember me Remember the ways In which we touched In which we played
Remember me Remember the good times, Ignore the bad times, We both enjoyed
Remember me Remember me
Memories of things past, often flood back without warning.
Before I really get going I should note here that this being written on one of those white rectangles of white stuff called "paper" I believe - and using a pen. I thought that a pen was something you stuck in a USB port to enable transfer of documents - or whatever. This one has "ink" in it, that flows onto the "paper" and leaves a trail.
Getting back to the point here...you don't realise how reliant you are on electricity till it is not available. There is a scheduled power-outage [for safety reasons], the trees in the area that are interfering with the power lines are being pruned and so the electricity is off from 10:00 till 15:00. Can hear the chainsaws nearby as the work is being done.
You really do not know how reliant you are on the stuff till you have to do without. As you probably know, my wake/sleep cycle is shifted round in the day - I get to bed around 03:30 [give or take anything up to an hour] and wake around 10:30 so the power was already off when I emerged.
First sign that things were different was, not being able to shave, I don't use a wet razor - haven't done since I was a kid and I am not certain my skin can take it now.
The inside of the 'fridge stayed dark.
Coffee could have been a problem but Lovely Wife was wonderful and had prepared a large vacuum flask with hot water. So I am able to slurp the caffeine solution while writing this.
I had intended to use the laptop for my usual things but there are two main obstacles to this. The battery life is stunningly poor, I can get maybe 30 minutes of work before getting a "low battery warning, change battery or connect to the mains in order to continue working" message. The second obstacle is that, even if battery life wasn't an issue, the broadband router is mains powered so I couldn't communicate via e-mail, Twitter, Facebook...
I suppose I could use semaphore...but it doesn't have the range.
*puts pen down, looks at clock, sighs, twiddles thumbs*
The sound of chainsaws is really irritating...
Not that anyone I know, knows semaphore - including me.
The power came back on a half-hour late, I then had to go around resetting various timers to make sure that everything would work as it should.
[Something a little different today - hope you find it interesting and entertaining. If not, we apologise - normal service will be resumed shortly...in the meantime please chat amongst yourselves.]
As is quite often the case with these posts, I selected this totally at random. The amazing thing is that it has relevance to me at the moment in something I am going through; I will not discuss it further here, it is not the time or the place, but instead just offer the poem for your reading pleasure.
Awake 05 Jan 93
Across the sand Beneath the waves A thousand feet In unique rhythms Journey To find the stones In circle round Or standing proud In lonely majesty. And When found To dance The eternal Dance
Awake The sleeping Dragon From slumbers deep and ancient Awake Your mind, free your thoughts From paths so well trod That the meaning has for so long faded
Just one short poem today, let me know what you feel...
I take pleasure in adding these poems from the year 1985 to this blog, the first one is yet another Senryū - written at the end of a surprisingly warm spring day after a walk to Eltham Common, in South East London only a few miles from where I used to live, the Common was the subject of several walks.
The title is fairly mundane but the feel is rather special.
Eltham Common 02 Feb 85
When the butterfly Landed on my hand, we smiled A magic moment
The second poem comes from a little later in the year and explores some of my key issues, make of it what you will...
Babylon 28 Apr 85
O Babylon Once upon a time Your waters washed me. We parted Though I don't know how Or why. My memories Of your warm waters Sing constantly Through my mind. Maybe one day I will return Though I know not when But one day We will dance Together Again
I considered adding an image but decided against it; you can see the butterfly, you have been to Babylon - even if it was not in this life so how can pictures help?
If you would like to read this blog site on your smart-phone, just scan the 2D barcode image and you can.
Thank you for your interest.
I have NOT authorised any adverts on any of my blogs.
If you should see any and would rather not then I recommend the use of AdBlockPlus or something similar from the Mozilla add-ons for Firefox or Chrome to hide them. You will have a blank space but the annoying adverts will be gone. I wish I could make them "be gone".
Do not click on any "in text" links ~ none were set by me.
A quote I found...
"It takes a lot of courage to show your dreams to someone else."
I must be braver than I thought.
Follow by Email
Please look around, take your time and before you go tell me what you think.
Comments are always welcomed - I may not always respond to them but I do read them all.
If you feel that what I provide here is interesting then you might like to subscribe to these pages. The offerings are growing in number and will continue to do so - all being well.
My other blogs
I have various other locations for showing off my poems, photography and words.
Please visit them and comment if you wish...
Use the links in the panel below for ease of connection.