Of Destitute

She watches –
and notes…
that he doesn’t fit
within the landscape –
as leafy thoughts escape
discolour….. fade
to strip the vines
of mind and life –
as he joins the quilted
desperate warmth
of destitute
and strife.

When Life Begins

I enjoy the colour black
which shows
the contrails ==== of time –
a dash of shadow
then a space –
but as dark
as dark is…
then the light of light
begins
to show the close-up
seen or been
and then
that’s when life begins.

 

 

A Tug

Touch my heart –
to look at yourself
in the hope
to feel the beat…
once cocooned.

An anchor released
can feel the sea –
a tug - - -
which draws you near –
or a detachment
drowned in tears.

If She Smiles

If she smiles
will it hurt?

Or does one need a body
with a soul.

If she smiles
will it tear down walls?

Or melt a life
as a casual candle
extinguishes the air –
and sweeps away…
a moments pain.

If she smiles
will it kill the devil….
quickly?

Or just ignite –
another flame.

All The Drones

My blood courses
just so it….
can excite the veins –
a brotherhood
beyond the family
like sugar… villainous –
wicked
unfocused
despite the flame
or perhaps
a war of will
where all the drones…
look the same.

 

Untitled

She stormed my heart
to feed her will
as I sang the song....
of silence
and watched,
as age grew old....
when all the youth smiled -
at the sight....
of sunset.

Reignite The Ashes

When respect is lost
can it be found
amongst the ashes…
from which it came –
now the fires dwindled
and only but a few…
memories of friendship
these embers remain?

But if one, has truly learnt
and understood the flue
then kindle can be made
to reignite the ashes
so the embers…
can see the flames!

 

 

The Mongrel Nips

The mongrel nips and howls
Bites and barks
at the bleakness in the sky
as thoughts commute –
then dissipate….
leaving you –
with all the why’s.

 

 

Where Friends Once Stood

A funny mixture of solitaire
with a twisted face of jest –
like a river lost at sea
and the sand….
lost, at tides end –
or a thousand pictures
these memories
all in a snap and blink –
as old eyes now squint
and hide away the tears –
but it's these little chips of honour
admiration and respect
that make you feel the beat of day
and the pounding of your heart –
when you recall …..
where friends once stood.

 

Where Is

Where is the sun at night
when no dreams come along
and the stars fade…
when they see the morning grey?

 Where is the sunset
in the darkness of her eyes –
or refreshing breeze of words
to steady the sails of day?

 Where is the freedom
when the world spins around
and a hug –
when you’re alone?

Where is the garden
where fresh seeds are born
and life, like déjà vu
where everything –
hope,
love,
dreams,
freedom…
and life
still exist?

 

On This Hollow Drum

Left to wonder
about the beat
of a hollow drum –
broken skin
worn rough
this torn heart within.

 Each precious little fibre
ripped and disconnected -/-
of a picture
now unseen.

And all that’s left
is a torn hide
were butterflies… once danced
but now ~ ~ have flown away.

Raw emotions
the rhythm of a life
what used to beat
now, nothing heard
no reverberation back –
on this hollow drum.

 

 

In The End

Have you ever had a friend
who doesn’t understand –

You try and try…..
and try again…..
but it never seems to end.

You give a hint
or outright say!!

But they just turn
the other way
a bit too much cheek
if I had to say.

You try to chat
to say hello –
and ask about their day…
you do your bit - to be polite
but you know how it goes.

You send them cards
and trinkets too –
in the hope that they will smile
and maybe say Hello….

But you know how that goes
they just hide away
ignoring you
as they laugh with other ‘friends’.

So what is one to do?

You sit and sulk
and try to understand –
because they tell you
that you’re still a friend.

You count the times
that you’ve talked to them
then …..wait a moment
how many times….
have they talked to you –
1 and 2 and 3 and 10
wow 100 from you
but I only count 1 or 2 from them.

But that’s okay
because they’ll make it up
when your birthday comes along –
they’ll send a card… that says hello
because they know that makes you smile.
But in the end you get a 2-word text –
then it’s you who doesn’t understand.

They say it doesn’t matter,
so why worry so much!

Ah, but that’s the thing you see
it’s because you care –
and they’ve just never….
understood.

--------

This thought could go on and on…
there’s so many things to say
but then again
they’ve already been said
so many times before.

But who can blame them
those wee poor souls –
with their heads buried so far in
and choose to ignore
their friends
when they just don’t understand
that one good hand
makes one good friend –
in the end!

 

 

Centre Stage

Centre Stage
begins in the wings
these dark shadows
of props and humans
and sirens –
which sing.

Swollen souls
drowned sorrows
and egos –
all barks of judgement
no ears…
just speak.

Centre stage
or an illusion –
enforced magic
this blend of humanity
with sharp angles
for delusion.

But it’s this story of birth –
that ends in the grave…
of magic and love
and the belief in hearts.

Now that’s the thing –
about centre stage.

A flash of anger
when all tricks fail –
just before… the smile…

 

 

In The Fruit Of Hope

Thoughts…
fed like fodder
into the mouth of hell –
cascading
down the waterfall
smashing on the hearts
shattering
below.

Leaving one to think
that they must go down
to the frothy curls
the whitecaps
of the human sea –
with the courage
to wash the soul.

Sorry
is the cleansing seed
when buried
in the fertile earth
of flesh and heart –
then allowed to grow.

Fruition
is in the branches
and the taste
in the fruit of hope.

 

Fringes

Don’t play me a heart
on cat strings
which cry…
or ruby lips
cheeks
or thighs.

You live on the edge
the fringes…
of my life –
a blur
of hope
or nothing –
but a wolf.

 

 

Where Words Fail

You say words express –
emote
inspire –
they speak of love
and life
hatred
and desire

Words are like milk
creamy…. smooth
silk upon your tongue –
or sour
turning inner peace
to acidic bile.

- - -

My heart dances
to the rhythm of a moonlit night
a shimmer of time
on the water of life –

As words, pour from her
running down me
like sweat that drips from my temples –
and no summer breeze can cool.

- - -

Then words bite,,,
as the rabid dog snarls its teeth –
gnashing, grinding
each letter defined by blood.

- - -

Words are speechless
when no meaning
exist

The only truth
lies within –

So watch the eyes
the nervous twitch
for this is where words fail –
when they cannot describe
the darkness
from the spell of light.

Still Linger

If your love remains
just a moment longer…
then time exist
beyond the flesh
of yesterday
and the depth
of lines of life
today –

will it still linger
in me?

Dirt Demands An Answer

A tree
without roots
feels the soft wind
as the totem pole leans
to see
the many faces –
but the dirt
demands an answer
when the earth
falls away
and the sky
screams dark…
like a new moon –
to the rhythm ˜˜˜
of death.

Before the seed of life
begins again.

Remnants…..Of Smoke

A vine
wraps around a tree
as love veils itself
around a heart,
and she….
around my thoughts.

A church candle burns
until a whisper blows –
then all that’s left
is the remnants…..
of smoke.

In A Breath

In the breath…
of a moment –

I understood!

Eyes and blinks
and shadows.

A wisp of scented air
dark bark, stripped away
revealing…
a softness
within the life.

Stares,
just beyond a look –
a blankness
of inner thoughts.

What is, no longer was
nor to be again.

Like truth
which drips from the window sill
the iris blooms
to patter upon the heart –

And understanding flowers
despite the lack of light.

All this… in a moment.

In a breath….
I understood.

Dark Circles

When sleep fades
from the morning sky
and dark circles
smudge away –
to hide behind
the murky thoughts
of low mist and clouds
from the youth….
of yesterday.

Soul of Beauty

Surrounded
by my thoughts
wrapped tight
and all alone –
what’s left to do
but hold on –
hold on
until you hold my hand
and tear away this skin
exposing what is left –
an undercurrent …..
of a heart
a breath of air –
a soul
of beauty.



 

The Falling Moon

How much time
to fall in love
or to break a heart –
when does it end
or did it just begin –
under the falling moon
where dreams are born
and life
a play of stages –

You look at me, like you…
just broke, into my thoughts –
after all…
that we’ve been through –
a busted lock
and eyelids, which flutter
to the truth
but one day
we’ll see the dream
come true.

You didn’t leave
just footprints
but emotions
at my door –
deep puddles
in the rain.

But who…
could love you more
or hold you
when you’re small –
for there is no more love
then the heart of truth –
or the light
of the falling moon.

The Mountain Top

The mountain always talks

but rarely does it move –

as it holds it ground

like emotions held tight.

 

Steep howls –

cliffs, with juts and overhangs

words on the edge of a mouth

which just protrude
but never sing. 

Trees, that dance

and rocks ~ ~

that make the water play –

caves that hold the solitude

and bare scraggy tops

who know the stories

when young was young

and old –

has no meaning…

as it’s just another day

on the mountain top.

 

 

Amour ~ To Her Eyes

I watch the crescent moon
and wonder… what it has seen
to circle earth – spellbound
amour to the gravity.

I hold her gaze
and watch the depth of life ~ ~
swim by –
while I dream of dreams
of her and I…
as she draws me in
this pull I can’t resist
as I’m mesmerised
wrapped in all her awe
this magician…
like the moon to the earth
she holds me with a spell –
amour ~ to her eyes.

Until The End

How can one live
if they’re going
in the end –
to find a place
where one needs
to stand
to find the core
to find yourself –
in the end
you cannot fly
or stoop below
so why not stand
and smile
be a friend
and stay awhile
until the end…

 

 

When Mine Disappear

She takes my emotions
and covers them up
no reality for her
as it’s my cross to bear.

Eyes tucked away
not a whisper or stare
just a lonely silence
that’s always…
misunderstood.

But I don’t know how
to do different –
just how to do me.

So be far away
the distance is clear
but don’t justify
your emotions –
when mine
disappear.

Locking In The Past

Her tongue is a key
on a ring of words –
that open memories
and lock away
what’s said.

So lead me out the door
to the swinging rusted gate
where all the skeletons
just lay around and wait
then turn the bloody key
locking in the past –
instead of me.

 

 

It’s All That Remains

He sacrifices himself
in the mix of life
to convey a soul
regardless of a road
paved with tolls –
and a broken heart
a tear-filled voice
of humility…
and puzzled tones
caught between
these many layers –
painted by the years
of haunted eyes
hidden in dark corners
collars drenched with rain
and translucent skin…
now shows –
all that was seen
of a tired worn heart
as it’s all
that remains.

I Now Walk

I now walk…
towards heavens road
to find a peace
which future holds –
and slip the binds
of sorrows weight
to stay the course…
to freedoms light.

 

These Merciless Walls

Captured emotions
tucked away in walls
feeding pain
4-squares a day
then hiding away
in a Trojan horse
waiting to pounce –
for there is no escape,
just winding halls
this subterfuge
of mind and stalls –
where is the victory
when no battles….
are won –
and the darkness of life
is written in shadows
which hold-up
these merciless
walls.

 

Where Is The Light

Death falls from this tree
like a world of dreams
from youth to man –
old branches…
lost leaves.

From vibrant green
to blown through storms
these bruised colours
on tarnished medals
and tattered flags.

From fall to spring
shadowed roots
now rotting –
dark minds unseen.

--------

Where is the sun
and heartbeat
of summer –
where is the light
of tomorrows…
young!

 

When She Looks

Sometimes
I cry so loud
there is no voice
no sound –
to hear my words
just tears,,,,,
to see my pain –
as it retreats into my light
so the soul
forgets to shine –
but I come alive
when she looks…
into my eyes.

Awash In The Mind

She crossed a line
an imaginary void
one side dark clouds
the other white tides.

He sits against walls
and watches….
as shadows fall –
and wonders….
how to climb.

Two threads
once woven tight
now-----
just barren souls –
awash in the mind.

 

 

 

Fragments Don’t Shine

You make me –
walk the streets
late night and dreams
as hours pass-on by…
while your words
stare at me.

Who are you
to criticise
standing behind
that plate of glass –
because lie’s
and fragments
don’t shine….

 

 

Beauty Of My Mind

If I was dressed in white cotton
I could see the world….
as I begin the day
by flying through the clouds.

If I wore a wrap
and tossed it to the wind
I could sail the sea’s….
until the sun began to set.

But as I stand
and watch the sky –
a vision filled with cotton white
and ponds of beauty –
hues of blue.

I close my eyes….
and feel the wind
as I sail along, and fly –
into the beauty….
of my mind.

 

 

No One

She held my balance
in her gaze –
not a charm, nor arm
to support…..
sustain, or stand –
but when she spoke
it was then I knew
and fell –
between her words
and laid amongst the silence –
this reverie
and place of choice
where no one…..
is judged at all.

 

 

Ones The Circus

I act the custodian of my heart
and not the owner –

 

Piano keys played
wooden table’s
chairs…
worn smooth
and talking crowds
at an old bar that listens –
as elephants cry,,,,,
and old toys
which, never seem to wait
nor be found
in the same place
when someone….
puts them down.

 

Because ones the circus
the other –
the clown.

Bare Threads

Worn is the tapestry
when bare threads are shown
until hands join
to embroider life
and the youth of a picture
is seen.

----------

I knew each breath of her
each chorus of her heart
as I stood –
wrapped in her arms….
such cherished moments
in that hallowed place –
where she took a torn heart
and with her soul…..
stitched it together
until the vibrancy
of blood flowed….
again.


 

A Silent Voice

A war of politics
and sad words –
a shotgun
pointed at the man
this dream he had
and can’t remember
his self-worth, nor birth
as he runs his mind
along the scars
connecting all the thoughts
these memories in vain.

So now, he sits and watches
as a feather
and a fleeting moment
float away
majestic in their dance
yet neither seems to fall –
but the window keeps on watching
into the widening gulf of sacrifice –
a microphone without a word
just another…. piece of steel
cold and lifeless
a silent voice –
where everyone can hear it cry….
now dead.

 

If I Died A Million Times

Soldiers march…..
then drifters fill the ranks
with smoked filled eyes of ghost.

---------------------------

If I died a million times
would I remember death
or only the time
that I stood standing
wrapped in chains –
while waiting
for the cold of morning.

If we all fell down
would we be broken
and swept away
so tradition
could hold the beams –
these houses on a hill
filled with men
brass and gold….
and hot air.

Our enemies don’t hide
they stand in bright lights
while tired soldiers
stumble by
and people shy-away –
afraid.

If I died a million times
would I remember death
or would I stand proud
in those last moments
knowing…..
that my country
stood behind me
so I could lay down
and rest.

 

Will Peace Prevail

In the last 2-months, 8 Canadian soldiers have committed suicide due to Operational Stress Injuries/PTSD.  Poetry is my outlet.

 

Life walked the corridors within her eyes
to kiss the consuming flesh of jealousy
and fill the inner void, which lurks
this emptiness of madness
1-ton of rocks on thin shoulders
and she yells at the demons
don’t wake me
as I’ll be dead
and only then
will peace
prevail.

 

 

 

Just Love

Even though her wings now clipped
she soars amongst the clouds
no pain of memories –
just love
and gentle winds.

There Sat A Quiet Soul

There sat a quiet soul
who walked the halls of reverie
in search of peace within –
painted walls of days and friends
laughter till the end –
but dark beneath the worn path
are footfalls heard…. and echoes
of a different journey
just back a ways…. around
a not forgotten bend.

There sat a quiet soul
who walked the halls of reverie
in search of peace within.