The stream (all workshops)
The dialogue of silence
resembles theatre of the absurd.
He’s waiting for Godot -
She dare not utter a word.
He speaks with disdain,
his body language concurs,
she turns away trembing -
“communication”
is just another word.
The wanton isolation
of not being heard.
They loved once
before they recognised the abyss,
before they touched the void.
Anxiety and anguish
Co-joined protagonists
In a play called Folie a deux
Zeitgeist the grim backdrop
To the greyness they’ve found.
On this low bluff I often seek
more with my soul than faded eyes
solitude beside a middling creek
beneath the varied seasons' skies
occasionally at year's demise
I share this time with stalwart fellows
most having seen many a more year
of spring greens and autumn yellows
than this random visitor to here
who sits still as any deer
when is a poem not a poem?
and does the heart ever let go?
the diamond in the rough
was a handful of indigenous rock
until
its essence was gleaned and
facets were carved with care
there are rubies in the dust and pearls
in the oyster beds, we dive into dirt and
smell of water
we tremble with the light
and light a candle in the hour
that is the darkest
let us remember that only hollow men
dare to sing
when there is nothing left
and this is the way the world ends.
rain storms reflected
lightening and thunder too
in crystalline pools
Are you not weary of ardent ways
Tell me no more of enchanted days
James Joyce
Nice to meet you
after all these years
but the person that got trapped in your mind
is one of the many
I have left behind
I presume it is the same with you
Sure, Jimi Hendrix was a favourite of mine
so too, were Traffic, Pink Floyd and Deep Purple
and oh yes!!!
how can I forget?
I carried Emerson and Keats
in my hip pocket
Each morning it rises
Out of the mists of dawn
And begins to sing
Its immortal song
Leonard
you don't get to remember your last thought
after you're dead
so it's a far far better world to leave if the thought
you think is dipped in dark dark ink
soon even your most excellent poem will leave your breath
and maggots
will invade your space, you will burn throughout eternity
with the apple in your throat and Paradise will not even
be a memory fading from white-lilies of existence.
skeins of silken thread
euclidean arabesques
a perfect crochet
Written: 20/11/2007
can tell the way you hold yourself half turning
the unfinished smile
I look out and watch the bright waves
the sharp sunlight washing over us
and the great weight of restless dreams
pulls at my cuffs and sleeves like
deep water
You are a distant island whose sand I
once walked on Whose campfire
knoll captivated me
you are a dream now
drifting like the patternless cloud
masses slowly
but surely away
I watch you escaping our history
your sure legs swaying
along the busy pathway
Where have all the statesmen gone?
all we seem to have are politicians
party hacks who only see
as far as the next election
Their only love is keeping power
led by polls instead of moral compass
willing to cut any deal
..betray their office
...betray their constituents
Do anything
to stay on the public tit
one more year
No concern for country's good
(must look good for sound bites)
while passing the buck of blame
utterly lacking in courage
is this the best we have?
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