Monday, 8 March 2010


Across the song of how morningflow flutters today,
a goose sweeps high above
in a play of lullaby caress,
his face; a voice, a vogue,
a silhouette of how the world connects.

Send me asleep across the land,
sail me into a deep imaginary wonder
where oceans composed of cool vibrant flowers
and whirlings of saphire, cool her charms,
as we wander,
in blankets of glazed dawning celebration
upon the sands of golden.

and from this place, mist figures arise
composing themselves in a terror,
which soon turns to thunder and vice
beneath the weight of their own expectations;
salted limbs exist from where water is sourced,
their nightingale lies are deep places of the weep.

May sound be a guardian to our pour of pooling eyes
and protect us from vigour and lack of thought.
The twist and solitude within which i rise
are nothing compared to the deep in which i subside.

But the flowers that form the thoughts that grow out of my ears
are really where this formation stands.
The air is bright today,
as it always is,
when i open my eyes.

Sunday, 21 February 2010

as it is for all

The water moves along the shoreline in waves,
streams of celebrating motions, embarking
constantly upon new and exciting journeys.
Its watery skin bears a noiseless repetition of motion
held within evergliding folds of soft blue calm.
This is a rhythm that resonates within us all,
a song held in all our throats
as we await the song of moonlight, or the warmth of the sun to release us,
out into the world where all can hear and join to sing.

May the moon be a guide to our emotions, the sun rebuild our fallen walls,
and the water a calm to our soul.
But only that; a guide, an aid, a calm.
For it is ourselves who must reach out and grab at the world from a point that is our own.

There is an I and there is the universe,
and both of these are me,
as a bearded man observed
that every atom that is me, is you also,
and living is a game, so let us play.

let it be serious, but always may we act with sincerity
let us see the beauty, wonder and awe that exists
within each droplet of colour and voice
let us work to find our individul path, and use this to aid others, not to turn our backs
let us love, be loved, feel the pain of love, but love again.
because we know that it is only our perception that drives how we think, feel and fall.

And as evening closes tonight
let us be content with this end,
knowing that for night to fall, day must begin again.
Within the stars i can see whole worlds to explore
but it is my eyes that hold these world, not the stars
where dream and adventure and the fantastical exist
as it is for all of you.

The Moon, The Glow, The Light.

The moon stills, tall above
wailing at the stars
for peace.
It's movement slow and enigmatic
slowly it curdles
set against a darkness
of faded light.

It's voice hangs silent,
it's pose replete;
as the stars begin to fade
and so to it,
absorbed by only one star
breaking a blue amber sky.

and it is through the swelling of the tide
that the water falls and erodes,
bringing footsteps freshly knitted into our minds.
the fizz and crackle of brown foam colliding,
obliterating all obstacles
and bringing the beginning of new horizons.
impregnated with noise
and wind
and whisperings.

the ocean is a mother,
a tightly held pair of seaweed freckled hands
holding always onto the shore.
soothing the wild wilderness of the wind.

Her crown fixed forever,
despite the rough tide of swinging hips,
dancing in soft rhythm.
a pulling caress of nightingale vibrations
across floor tiles and damp light rooms
where we all flounder in movement,
enveloped inside sunshine.

arms wrapped, limbs corroded,
sweat seaps from pores, filling the
room with a beautiful aroma of pungent debauchery
that will remain long after we have left
and returned to morning light rooms
where some of us sleep and some of us never sleep.

The night is in our eyes and is ours forever.
let it always be this way.

The noise of the morning rises, and disturbs
the lettering upon my wandering thoughts.

Slowly i begin to shout in ripples of celebration,
and as i do a rainbow of colourful flowers flows out from my mouth
and i sing,
in adoration of the moon.

it is from the moon
by giving it a name
or a purpose
to seek to explain
that this seed is extracted from me
and becomes lost in the ether.

It is to the moon
that i write and sing and share this thought.

For myself and the moon only,
that i breathe and rejoice,
this mind.
Alert and in shouts of hysterical rage
I sing. It sings. Relentless.
Despite the deprivation of sleep
and the solitude it ultimately seeks.

Flitting open, moments of bubbles
and wonder fall across shores, and lines of open
unknown places, where we wander in free.

Of dreaming, of losing falling winds
water flowing over silken summer.
Light flounders and changes its path
in constant patterns
in silent freckled hands.

The darkness and beyond
and orange light;
a dress i wear and embrace
and spiral
and celebrate.

This nightwalk i simmer.
This object i pursue.
until the dawn arises
and fills my crying
with joy and delight and whisps
of slowly rising never-ending relentless pathways.

in sighting unlighted minds
with joy and solitude
and a lack of purpose,
we fall.
we flounder.
we embrace the evening.

No matter how far wrong you've gone you can always turn around....

the thoughts that swarm and swish across my brow.
the songs that crush the darkness of the night
cause me little concern, nor sway
the branches of the trees in my heart.

the river it flows in bandages of loose embers
the flowers they sprout in all places, even behind the eyes
In vissitudes of walking sermons
rose petals collect upon the water.

the forest is a monument to the sun
the broken glass that sings in the city morning light
a harp that plays to all and everyone.
I see brambles in the patterns of the wind
that flutter in a glowing twilight.

The void is apparent, and is what we are,
the thought of which we may choose to ignore
for this is the game we play.
knowing this does not make it any easier
but this you see, is ok (thank you elliott dobbs)

let joy flow and ripple in the laughter of the loose
let teardrops form and batter our waking morning hearts
let the dance of time be a playground not a pension
let all authorities you create be yours (thank you tim and alan)
let the sea, the sun, the moon, the stars
into each breath of walking light
let the pavements grow over with moss
let the creatures that form in the cracks and shadows roam wild and free
let Neptune rule the spinning of clocks
let the eyes and smiles of others be a portal to the self
feel the vibrations and absorb the chaos
knowing that you may return from this game whenever you so wish,
and that it is just this and nothing more.

the ecstacies of feeling that roams the caverns and underpasses
are a creation of my very own, and of your very own
as are the raindrops that fall from the sky and salt the eyes.
Today i may die, i know this
and knowing this, i am now free
to wander
to talk
to hug
to sing
to love
to fall
to dream
to dance.