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The Spring wind buffers the wide shaking windows
A newspaper rustles with useless blues
And the night train rumbles hungrily under a tricky sky
Is it you?
That set these sounds to space?
What's the journey?
man puts his heart and his mind in what he believes
he even risks his live to fight for it
also he’s ready to kill for protection of
his own benefits
and his family
as long as he believes he’s right
he tends to forget his reality is very perceptive
his eyes could be blurred
his ears could be distorted
his tongue could be numb
his nose could be frozen
his skin would be insensitive
he could look at things
from a different angle
at the wrong place
and not at the right time
the hell is man so sure about his absolute belief?
The chill autumn breeze blowing
Leaves across the lawn.
Cuppa tea soothing my heart.
Thinking about Spring
And you, Little Poetess,
Far across the world :))
From a high window
forlorn on the sill
sits a maiden in muslin
fine fabric billowing in the gentle breeze
The screwed window latch rattling
A whisper across the moors
An image for the artist
A challenge for the conceptualist
to reveal the breadth
and strip the poetess bare
An echo to Peony and Thao Chuong's poem Sex, drugs and Street Art.
Be Her Mary Shelley
A cold wife
like a wet fish
on marble slab
needs a bolt of lightening touch
Look beyond your visor,
the sex the drugs
and look more deeply
into street art
her sleeping, tortured heart.
The loose paper flittered through the air
as the poetess looked on in despair
some sailed back and forth
like a feather
and lay to rest
in some strangers nest
others soaked themselves in the lake
the ink left the page and swam with the flow
had no hard drive
and from all the pages lost
recalled just one line
'I heard a whisper ride across the moor
and want to chase it evermore...'
She wrote it quickly once again
and another poem was born not much the same
for time had moved on
and she herself was new
her old self gone!
By body is cold and my bones ache
The darkness out ways the dawn
These narrow roads feel like long halls
The grey sky is holding me down
Reminding me of old wounds that never healed
I miss the big sky with it's high ceiling
The dry air and jagged rocks
The smell of juniper everywhere
Don't forget me dessert sand
I'll be back soon
I can't stay here
I'll spend my winter there
I dare not part my lips
for fear of the wrong words escaping
and rearranging the beautiful chaos
of waves, deserts and night skies
of waiting, of sleeping, of aching
of artists shaping life
wonder and despair
evasive love and life
I notice, I feel
the bird soar
against the wind yet with the solar flow
like my soul
on hearing poets words
as I eat my egg on toast
and the light of day
some things to me.
Is there any such a thing
as synchronicity in everything?
We all were spurned from that first cell
and seem to be always trying to re connect
From the fuzzy land line
to the text lost in the tunnel.
Lost In Space?
XO my favorite video of yours.....there is no ifs if time stands still but then we would also lose the magic of timing
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Maria the link works but sometimes the cam is offline. Mostly it's online though. I have it on running in the background whenever I'm working on the computer. It's great to see and follow the eaglets growing up, they look ridiculously squeeze huggable right now!
( looks like one of the eagles just caught a squirrel )
Don't have any poems right now, but I'm taking in all the poems here...
My leaf is turning
on the Tree of Life.
Spring and Summer
I am serene
in this last, long season.
Striking color of wisdom
flowing through my veins,
a final burst of beauty
before I release
and blow away.
Beautiful Karen. :)
Philip, I remember the eaglets when you showed them way back, great that you are following their lives. I found the videos but didn't
Know which one you had, there are many different eagles being watched now.
Cheers Maria, its been a really nice n early Spring here, loads a sun this past month and a harf, daffodil bloomed early March, love daffodils, cheery blossoms out in Feb, that sort of thing, Well i hope everyone is more upbeat (just like me) Explosive poetry can feel good Anthony. Put another one up if you like. That was a funny on Tom, putting me in the mood for more nonsence to come. Got an exploding cow poem from last year somewhere.
Saw the eagle feed her chicks, the wind was howling, she flew off for 3 mins then came back with a rodent burger lunch. The seagulls dont catch fish anymore, its either batterd cod and chips by the pier, or they sit on ponds eating goldfish. I guess they think like humans now. they will be using pond nets next and asking for salt n vinegar too.lol. what was that? oh..
Everthing seems untitled. so i cant refer to them except by reference indexs of above5 or position 84 etc lol. er i will stfu.
Echo to Karens Tree of Life and Marias poem at 4 above.
AUTUMN TREE OF LIFE
Golden were the leaves
Of the Angelic tree of eternal youth
Weeping her tears of sorrow and joy
For as they fell
Each leaf whispered a truth
Unto the flowing stream …
The stream of flowing silver blood
That fed the failing Earth
and men of ancient life…
Immortal were the tears
Who cried for
Each leaf that fell
Upon the Earth below…
She smiled and wept her leaves away
Waiting for the return of Spring
The return of light
So wept the youthful Autumn Tree
The Angel of eternal beauty…
The Angel of eternal golden youth
The youth that now lives within.
The first Full Moon Eclipse of the Tetrad
occurs this night.
The fourth Tetrad in 500 years.
Blood Moon in Libra.
Calling for release.
The cleanse of what has accumulated
on the dark side of the scale.
A rebalance of Spirit.
Sun in Aries.
Ready to rise and forge forward.
Dashing the dreamy darkness
with a new found fervor.
from the tipping Scale
ready to ride the New Age.
This ‘blood moon’ will produce a dark red Total Eclipse, visible through North America and western South America. The event also marks the beginning of a lunar eclipse tetrad, a series of four total lunar eclipses occurring at six-month intervals:
April 15, 2014 (25° LIBRA)
October 8, 2014 (15° ARIES)
April 4, 2015 (14° LIBRA)
September 28, 2015 (5° ARIES)
These tetrads don’t occur regularly and not very often at that. There has only been three tetrads in the last 500 years, and on each occurrence major events have happened in world history, particularly to Jewish people…
The first Tetrad since the Middle Ages, in 1493, saw the expulsion of Jews by the Catholic Spanish Inquisition, which rocked western Europe.
The second coincided with the establishment of the State of Israel – after thousands of years of struggle – in 1949.
Strangely, the last one occurred in 1967 – far earlier than expected – precisely at the time of the Six-Day Arab–Israeli War.
Since the next tetrad of blood moons will coincide on Jewish holidays (Passover & the Feast of the Tabernacles) we will be watching affairs in Israel with great interest during these times.
What a great echo Jason! kept rereading the whispering leaves line. Iwas reminded of nothing ever dying but continuing in some other form including youth! Your imagery makes me want to paint. Although we are wading fastly through autumn here in Melbourne, the sun is shining and it could be mistaken for an English Spring Day. So, it is.
Interesting karen about the blood moon, I was reading about it the other day and meant to get my camera on the ready, but forgot! Did you take a photo! Interesting too about the events that follow or intercede one!
I will beginto title my poems as I didn't think about the echoing. Glad you were able to take something from the poem Jason. I really enjoy the fact that echoing can be the thing that gives birth to a new poem/idea :))))
I sit in the starry silence
watching the Earths shadow
slide across the face of the Moon.
When her countenance is covered
the owls begin their call and response
and the coyotes sing.
A cosmic concerto.
Completely forgot to take a good look at the moon last night, I think I glimpsed briefly it was a full moon, low in the sky; was looking out for the space station, it was over head at ~9.04pm as scheduled. Never managed to see it so clearly before as there are so many dozens of planes and dots moving in the skies above London, besides the clouds.
Bet they have a good view up there of there of these cosmic happenings . Wonder if they will have a laser show for us one day lol, guess its too far up and not really a prime objective.. guess they could aim at a cloud or something to make it light up and glow… hm… wonder if they could burst clouds for us every Winter over the Atlantic!! Help reduce our rainfall and flooding!! I’m sure we’d assist if it was viable. Thought I was thinking nonsense, but low and behold, its actually been thought about already. Probably a scale beyond reach though... is it?
Listening to two young musicians yesterday I woke with the beginnings of this poem in my head.
Like Summered Roads
And I am wondering how you sweet birds of youth have come to harmonise
And thinking of those rough sounds I spill
Like from a first rock that fell and scraped to the ground rolling, tumbling and breaking
Yours must have run through the clear streams way back then
Bubbling and gulping in its new ancientness, being carried still in the crisp ripples,
Which quiver and shiver in the unsuspecting air, like leaping fish learning to fly from flowing rivers.
I see you slung with your guitar shimmering in the air like summered roads, a journey unfolding.
Birds! Your joy-language fills my head with beliefs I try to take to bits, the sounds seem to bind beginning gifts, yet open up the world!
Couched on your branch, so easily, warbling, sweet vibratos shimmering invisibly before me
Like summered roads.
The harmonies stirring first buried sounds of first rocks that still havn’t reached the water.
In the light from the terraced window
her hair bathed.
Her father's hands pulled the comb through
I could only feel the spittle ooze from my seething mouth
as her face twisted, I sucked it up.
Like dragging a rake over a dockyard rope,
He laughed with his large mouth and heavy shoulders
Making light out of something that should be simple but wasn't.
I felt the scalp, tent away from the skull, it was agony to watch.
Her eyes full of tears not allowed to fall in a pile of childish, female, wimpery.
When the deed was done, her throbbing scalp rested, with our exhausted empathy,
Having felt each pull and drag in its entire immensity of fruiting childish minds,
We smiled then, at her flowing hair, thick and dark like polished chestnuts glinting through glass leaves.
The pains on our faces turned in the flips of skipping ropes and races to the park, our long hair
flaying softly at our waists of thin cottoned dresses and, the sound of laughter in the air.
I pronged my hair, secretly untangling fingerly any trace of snares.
Jason I tried to buy your book for my kindle and it wouldn't let me, there was no price.
Very moving poem above. I don't think you get banned for any kind of religious content just damning comments, isn't it? Jesus christ is also a historic figure.
A flight of eternal swans
lit up the empty tomb
And again... the metal hammer cried! Wow! Really felt that!
very evocative lines. Imagining the white swans lighting up a tomb, was very visual and transient, like a flash! Like a miracle.
Thanks for sharing.
loving it ,,and remembering our "Legend of the Fly"" with Maria.
the metaphysical translation is so haunting and compelling really.
Our faiths of one, are one
from the light reborn
and carried on one Eternal Tree!
because I did not seek attention
my name was seldom ever mentioned
in the presence of those I love most
somehow I became a ghost
like a tourist at weddings and wakes
believing my presence a big mistake
like some useless item on a shelf
I tired introducing myself
a lottery ticket struck me rich
and my fortune on everyone"s lips
relatives looked for me everywhere
their only wish my money to share
wealth allowed this ghost to disappear
Thanks to Roy Orbison
I kissed her forehead while she was asleep
Then, like a phantom upon her dream I did peek
I saw her in the arms of another man
and closed my eyes to her dreamscape land
Back in our bed with her still in deep slumber
I reasoned it only a dream , but had to wonder
The candy-colored clown they call the Sandman did appear
Roaring with laughter he said with great cheer
"Serves you right, for going there".
Great words Billy, I think these words are universal! First one was very moving. I think we have all felt like a ghost, but I suppose the effect of this on a person depends on how much. the said person felt like a ghost. I saw it happen and felt it in the big families of long ago. Love Roy Orbison and his haunting voice. Thanks for posting.
Don't give up the ghost.
Billy reminded me of a night when we all went to see a Roy Orbison show in the 80's. We took my grandmother who had listened to him on the radio when she was much younger, she had never seen him, only pictures of him, and thought he was blind due to the dark glasses. We as kids used to spend weekends with her after my grandfather died just to fill in some lonely gaps, and we would spend hours learning the lyrics and playing the vinyl records over and over again. At the show, where Roy was played by his double, she was in another place another time, where she wished to be, with my grandfather, and it was unforgettable.
death surrounds us and makes us hers
everyone in black and crying aloud as the music plays
papers rustle, throats clearing as the eulogies read
weeping through the black lace and sickly sweet smell of the lilies
heart pounding loudly in my ears drowning out the words
trying to awake from nightmares in a woken world
wanting time to STOP. turn back the clock to yesterday
to feel you again and hold you close keeping you alive with wishes
not once but thrice this year already
saying goodbye to loves
is that too much or can we take more?
how much black velvet can one wear in a year
how many lilies grow across the earth
how many more curtains do we watch closing, taking them away
death surrounds us and makes us hers
and all we can do is watch
In Loving Memory
Julian died February 2014
Ron died March 14
Max died April 2014
I suppose we have lonliness to thank for all the great sounds that were made because of it. :))
Is it possible to celebrate, ghosts and lonliness? I don't know but this music is about it and yet brings you out of it.
Does it seem to come in threes,
that knock of Death on legends door?
Are we ever ready to release
those we treasure, though we know
this plane is terminal?
All of the knowledge
and love we gain
seems so futile
as the dark finger scrapes
across our wounded heart.
You sit in silence, the pain burning in your writers
mind. You wonder why, you try to create magesty,
but you're trapped in a horrible bind. The blank
page taunts you, you want to give up. But I will set
you free. The beauty of moonlight oceans, the dark
skies of winter I will help you find.
Tears fall from your beautiful eyes, the world
demands. I will show you emerald skies, the
people will watch you soar from the stands. If
you fall into the abyss, I will pick you up, I will
show you incredible bliss. Those says of sorrow
and wanting, you will not miss.
Feel the love flow through your mind. See the
passion in your dreams. Let go of the anger, be
compassionate and kind. The beautiful forest
calls, hear the owls, touch the leafs, smell the
air, taste the dew, see the old ancient pine.
Smile in happiness as your soul beams.
Feel the deep pain, embrace the burning sorrow.
They broke your heart, they abandoned you to
the cold. Use that passion for your gain, build a
better tomorrow. Let freedom be your start, don't
be afraid of being bold
Look into your child’s eyes, hug the person who
is your tender prize. See your mother, the one
gave you life. Let go of the pain, abandon the
terrible strife. Let the words flow from you, know
they sing, know your beauty is real and true.
Know they will call your name, they won't ask who.
I do not lie, I am here, stare deeply into my eyes
so blue. Thanks,