The Web Poetry Corner
The Web Poetry Corner
London, England, UK
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Master of Song
MASTER OF SONG
Falling through daydreams
A brief interlude,
Breaks through the sweet sounds
Of my long solitude.
Man picks up the vinyl.
Man Weaves in my sight
Shadows of melody,
Into the night.
If God had you woven
From air, light and breath.
Could he smother music?
Cloak beauty in death?
Walk softly to no place
I pick up the phone.
To hear that a young man
Is not coming home.
Do you still spin the tunes,
Can you still hold my hand?
That the memories slip through
Like hourglass sand
I still hear you Christiaan
The master of song,
Creating the rhythms
To whom I belong.
My Tears are long gone now,
Warm heart turned to stone,
Submerged in deep grief still,
Yet never alone.
So glad that I touched you
Too sad that our friends
Can only hear silence
As melody ends.
Never in the darkness,
Consider turning in.
Though the candle flame is fading
And my eyes are full of sin.
Did not consider ending
The weariness that lies
Beneath the cherry blossom
Which adourns the summer skies.
Come out into the music of my heart
Awaken the sleeping maker of dreams
To start a new whirlwind of quiet thoughts,
And in those thoughts
Will I find
The laughter I left behind
In the fields of obscurity?
Security has drifted away
Spirit has lifted the day
An our wishes are dancing into life.
In the heavens
A lone man is singing
Bringing the unreal into being
Giving our blind eyes seeing
One man's voice is ringing
Across the eternal halls
I am sorry, I have tried
When all other smiles have died.
I have forgotten how to cry.
Tears were lost
When the azure sky was viewed
With eyes I called my own.
Grieve no more
(Though the curtain in the temple tore)
For choking sobs I knew
When I was young.
I dream of different lands to you
My footsteps you could follow
But their unsure shape
Is washed away in rain,
Cascading over rooftops
Then to mingle with my blood.
Oh, this is sad.
I've hung my harp in countries
Where the people laugh.
But not here.
Is there anybody there, across the light years of space,
Or within this tear filled veil I tread?
back through the theorised models of
Behaviour learnt - toughness undone.
Google reveals desires I harbour
Boat previously unknown.
Driven by search engine that
trawls the universe,
Fuelled by diesel wanderlust.
Stay with me
Until such time as I may
Take these wretched things
Hang by strings
To the line
Until I'm dead.
Soft snow drifts slowly.
Dark sky outwards drifting .
Grey town, quiet resting.
Rest dream waif drifting.
Hath cutlass touched garden?
Pain cutting, snow falling.
Tears frozen, ice salty.
Death frozen, snow drifting.
Soft snow on grey slate tiles.
White flake in cutlass garden.
Grey town with resting waif dreams.
Pain cuts the snow filled pavement.
Frozen salt tears, drifting outwards
Pain still in frozen garden.
Death touching resting grey town.
I rest beneath the dark sky.
THE BABY IN THE SEA
Is there a baby lost at sea,
Cradled in the windlashed foam?
Destitute cries of gulls
Swelling and fading
Then scattering over the sky.
Is there a hope for the godless waves
That love abandons with each dawn?
Forsaken ebb tide
Rest here in your arms
Then carry me into the night
The Big Blue Bus
I lost my way, on a stormy day
Cold water soaked my pity.
Yet my spirits soared, when I jumped on board
The big blue bus to the city.
A dirty man, where the dark rain ran
Wiped grimy face on tissue.
Then I walked away when he turned to say,
"Folks come and by Ďthe big issueí "
Bright streetlamps died, and the children cried.
TO litter my eyes looked down
Then I wept some tears for the urban years
On the big blue bus from the town.
We cannot fight for this starry night
Iíll marry in dust then fly
With the dark eyed groom to the nearest moon
On the big blue bus in the sky.
(untitled - For Padraic)
All I ever wanted is within you
Found answers to all questions when you smiled.
A loving life transcends the empty silence
Attains such pure dimensions undefiled
All my velvet dreams have been awoken,
Cold and sharpness float into a void
All is left is warmth of you inside me.
Destructive self-destruction self destroyed.
In time we lose a love of fun
Wave goodbye to leisure.
Perhaps the life I run upon
Moves too fast for pleasure.
Infinite darkness spins me out.
Some day ago there shone
Coloured lights in fairground bright
Like passing doves theyíve gone
Now here I stand with empty eye
Perceptions lost in rain.
You say thereís something better, well
Those promises disdain
THE MAKING OF MYSELF
Eighteen years ago today,
No words rolled from my thoughtful mind.
Before the fragile steps are made-
Devoid of language, still we learn
Each viewpoint from the crib discern,
Until the feet are free.
Along this road I am alone,
As on the day I saw the scope
Within the garden. Treasure Iies
On sunstruck fence and crumbling wall.
I touched, I heard and saw them all
And now theyíre part of me
Where lies cold destroyer
Of ravaged broken land
That stands a bitter remnant
Of the cruel destructive hand.
Who is the enchanter?
Come forward through the rain
And breathe on jagged fragments
To make them whole again.
The time is before us, the time we must part.
Youíre here in my life now, but not in my heart.
My shadow has grown and is larger than me.
The waves overwhelm in this turbulent sea.
My bags have been packed, I have said my goodbyes,
Old hands have been shaken, no tears in my eyes.
So free me and leave me, let go of my hand,
So whispers can fly me away from this land.
The love that I lost has been thrown to the skies
Embellished with blossom and sweet butterflies
The River Euphrates
Beyond the iron clouds
Lay a summer sky -
Above the city.
Amongst dishevelled urban dwellers
(who hastily travel on ground
beneath which our fathers sleep)
I found my friends.
So in the discord of divided city
I do not dread imprisonment
Where fragments of laughter
Are pulled along
With the angry roar of traffic.
Past the moondust in my eyes,
The soldiers will find recollection.
My soul was born,
Before time began,
Where the Euphrates
To the endless sea.
Gaze into the pool of experience,
Experience a murmur
Of old father timeís dreams
Dreams to which in time,
Surrender our spirit
I lose in your sleeptime,
My waking is a mirror of illusions
Illusions remain for all time.
One day father time
You shall wake
And I shall remember your dreams
If you do not forget my footsteps.
Little David hides away
Behind an iron door.
You tempt him but heís seen it
And tried it all before.
What circle has this ending?
Sweet Night has lost her day.
And little Davidís crying
For Light thatís far away
But David I will find you
Within your barbed wire sphere
Maybe then weíll find ourselves
As choked sobs disappear.
Little Paper Boats
Quietly sleeping, awake into dreams.
Window blows open.
Moonlight spills in.
The man whose face I knew not
Descended with the clouds
Past the mirror
To the soul.
Sadness rolls over
With the stone of the tomb.
Little paper boats carry sadness
Down the river of the sky
No longer can I see them, though
Through chambers of my mind
Like moonbeams on eyelashes
Echoes of memory
Dissolve into Silence
(untitled - for my friend Matthew Scott)
Help me break out of this prison.
Let the light of my heart pass these walls
So that some day Iím able to follow
That voice in the distance that calls.
In the spirit a a bright fire is blazing
The flag of belief is unfurled
Yet I donít have the strength to go forward
And breathe in the whole of the world.
THE NIGHT IS DONE
Fear hell or long for heaven?
Noise pressing in
To drown the melodies
Is swallowed by the quietist
Then the dazzling
Cascades into darkness
Burning the blackness
Away into the night.
Love youíve been away so long,
And now youíre here once more!
Father, look, the night is done.
Shinning silver raindrops pour
In torrents from the cloudy skies.
Puddles of the brightest light
Begin to form,
Reflected in my eyes.
I sit tonight,
Within these four walls of light
Whilst the shadows remain
Nothing fulfils expectation
New pink paint not pink
As the rose in my garden
Understanding is broken
All for the sake of pink
In drunkness still
I sit and drink
Three days and the moon is stowed away
The sky is revolving
Random disorder of darkness
Shrouds the earth
And these dark acts.
As the moon has sunk to the void
Cataracts of evil creep
Across the eyes
Now blind to the road leading home.
Forgive me father, I have sinned
Too easy in darkness,
In dim light
To sit, filling wineglass
Fill the mind
With an idea
Of what lies at the end of the railtrack.
Sundering streams of thought
Surge onwards to smash
Against the rocks of sin.
Will you find us?
Bring a candle
Are we still forgiven
If we hide in the darkness
Watching though the keyhole
To see if we can see
To be reconciled
Your Sister is sorrow
Pathetic self pity.
Together you drink
In the drains of the city.
She filled you with envy
And cursed you with greed,
Gave you some money
Much more than you need
We stroll past the beggar
Weíve thieved and weíve lied.
My sister of darkness
Youíre here by my side.
Spaceship of Mourning
My thoughts have been swallowed by heartache
That in turn broke my faith in mankind.
Could they do that to one of my brothers
Whilst leaving compassion behind?
Please spare me the details of horror,
Hide images far from my sight
And speak not of the vengeance of blackness
Or Iíll cry as I sit here all night.
A bright star flashed right past my window
A sign that we have second birth?
No, itís the spaceship of mourning
Humanity leaving the earth
Wedding bells are in the air,
James in top hat standing there
Beneath the steeple claims his wife;
The first day of their married life!
The sausage roll observes the day,
(Quite rightly) in a different way
To view all folly he is able
Laughs at us from Jamesí table
Sees the best man Matthew drunk,
To peanut covered floor heís sunk
And God, that speech went on for hours!
Sausage roll, I do beseech
A pardon for that hopeless speech
A day of hectic length, so mad
But just when I thought that was bad_
Grandads placed beneath the ground
Sausage roll, once more Iíve found
That you have such a truthful view
Wine is plenty, tears are few.
With sombre clothes and solemn face,
Auntie Jo, she sets the pace
"So sadly missed" she says in gloom
And small talk flies around the room
I watch with sausage roll in hand,
And find it hard to understand
How last months "grumpy, tiresome fool"
Is conversationís priceless jewel.
Sausage rolls and Grandads hearse
In life like this just which is worse?
I have in Life some simple goals_
A life devoid of sausage rolls
FOREVER ON A SUNDAY
the nightclub "strawberry sundae" and club culture inspires
Forever on a Sunday, blossom falls
And kisses earth when Jesus calls
Breathe deep knowledge, like red wine,
Like spirit glow, like sun divine.
Forever on a Sunday, lay down grief
Share this doubt or touch belief
And when we walk through time again
Forever on a Sunday still remain.
The new Eve
Lazy days are longer now,
Their light brings cheery exaltation.
Reveals a brand new evening world
Awaits my blossomed exploration.
Behind me lie the frost struck months,
When ice around my neck was hung.
Ahead the long walks past the weir,
The riverís cool as I am young.
Iíll pack my life and thoughts and dreams,
As sleepy flowers now unfold
To watch me walking noiselessly
To hear my secrets never told.
VISION OF PEACE
Written in Battersea park at the London peace pagoda, East niche , depicting his enlightenment at buddhagaya_"Ga-Shi-Do-Annon Will make tranquil this realm of mine"
Is it a miracle, or is this another world?
There is no litter here - instead on the ground,
Blow a thousand thoughts, one of them born of myself
Dancing like a ballerina in the wind.
And the past is not here.
Whereís he gone?
I do not know where its all hiding
But not here.
Golden buddha- priceless majesty among trees,
Pain released, like a kite,
Never again caressed by my hands.
This is the quiet place
So listen to the quiet voices
Of the lotus flower
Shows me a vision of peace.
Never shall sound surely split the air.
Not the final unspoken clash of the bomb
Not the wind upon the bells.
Lord, may I stay in your arms
A WORLD OF WAITING
Smoke curled, through my world
Lost his grip, watched the glass slip
On floor broke, no-one spoke
Fingers drumming, midst the humming of
Chatter. I heard clatter
Of your steps.
A stranger came to me,
Body glowed like ruby wines
Throwing lines of starlight
On a cellar floor.
Scent of Edenís blossom
Sliced past stale air
There at last, alone I stood,
Yearning for your touch that never came
Into rain I walked
Crawling over passion in the dirty streets
Stars cascading from the
So empty but
I could not cry.
The Yellow Heaven Soup Kitchen
Underneath the Railway Bridge and through the rainswept street
Senses dulled by driving wind, I'm following my feet.
I lost the joy in ecstasy, now blinded by the storm
Dark and cold, no hand to hold, no place thatís light and warm
The Yellow heaven soup kitchen, had paint splashed on her door
Of colours wild and tangled, like the light that swept the floor
And the patterns on the ceiling were in spirals so they said,
Said the voices of the strangers who were dancing in my head.
Worries steal all drunken smiles, No longer think nor care
To live or die, to touch and cry or search when no-one's there.
Each weary day we seek that place, still dazed on concrete ground
Movements slow, no place to go, yet never turn around.
It made our tired lives breathe joy now it seems so far away
It pains our hearts, afflicts my soul, to dream of yesterday
Memories washed upon the sands
With prayers of sun tomorrow.
my fallen bride,
who washed away my sorrow
The stars I hung around your neck,
Have fallen from my tearfull eyes
as others sleep,
The watchman on the pavement lies.
Our money's lost beneath the waves
And what were all those fears about?
Our Dreams were made
The Dragon slayed
With children on the roundabout.
Our Sonís not coming home.
Blow out all light, in night
That seems so long.
Encased in oak, entwined with scents
Of foreign Lands,
Bear him on the shoulders
Of six weeping soldiers.
My Son , Your Son is Dead
Send Patrick to the village with the news.
So many friends will see him in the Aisle
Kiss his lifeless body for a while.
My precious Son has died.
Without him can we live our lives again?
Or with a grief just follow him deep down
Beneath the crying ruins
Of this town.
For Duncan Morehead who died on 20th June 1996
In a far off dream in passion soaked,
My Quietude stalks riverboat
Silences her horn.
Like words in London,
Born from empty mouths.
To a lifeless void
Whilst a home of cardboard
Walls is stirred, and
Shaken by the wind,
Whose gusts with city dust
Carry fluted melodies
From Street Musician
Into a tired day.
Slowly, sobbing sounds dissolve
In sweeping rain.
Lingering pangs of music lost
In thundering train.
Cringing dogs whine
Where the people
Binding, breathing, behaviour.
Complication engineering child.
Heart, gut, control?
Sad dreams on Good Days
Scotch Mists and Blue haze
Recloak the things that render numb
The man who beats the crying drum.
Tired eyes in early years
Fighting back the bitter tears
Release the mode of passion, then
The sobbing drum can't beat again.
Cold hands in early dawn.
Feel no rays of sunrise born.
Reclaim the hand that once held yours
(At least the weeping drum may pause)
Broken wing in Condors flight.
Flutter down into the night.
Return to earth like fallen stone
And drums shall beat for you alone.
In lonliness of darkness
I considered turning in
When all light of life was fading
And the world was full of sin
Considered to be better
If the weariness that lies,
Ended and forever sleep
Beneath the winter skies.
Clubbing and Drugging
Hands in the air, my life is fine
Though a smudge on God's design.
Legs both gone numb, and a messy head
Take their clothes off when they're dead.
Screw all the rest, I am the best
("Soft-one, please get dressed!")
Desire hard, quick draw in the yard
And the worthless I discard.
Your fucking drug's in a coffee mug
This despair pit we've both dug
My mate didn't check, and he broke his neck
I laugh 'cause I'm a nervous wreck.
No sleep last night, please kill the light
'Cause the tiredness comes to fight.
Round the bend, will our skewed minds mend?
Still I'll do some more next weekend.
A successfull career,
Off the atrium bridge.
My arms were covered in scars.
No - I am
Covered in stars
Covered in stars!
Keyboard, monitor, blind.
Cyberspace not tangible, yet torn.
Rip flesh from soul.
Raw muscle, eyes stinging,
Hurting so. Much
Pain or residue thereof
Knowing it could never satisfy
Hunger. Gape for knowledge.
Yawning, Screaming, monsters
Living, lurking in my
Light is sought
Dark is binding
Psychosis (a.k.a Spiral)
Will the children hear me
Screaming from my grave?
No they love concrete steps and
Walk on by.
Try to understand
is far from yours.
Cell of consciousness
All I know.
They passed on by.
Spiral to insanity
I spiral to the end.
The Midnight Fox
I see the fox at midnight,
Standing on the hill
The wind is dancing through her fur
And yet she stands so still.
I see the fox at midnight
Her dark red silky fur
I see the moonbeams falling down
And yet she does not stir
Incomplete fragment of poem written in 1986, aged 10 years
Tin foil, hot and black
Prepare me for the head attack.
Pipe in water, pipe in air
Kills the throat, just don't care
Warmth from heaven fills my head
We're still alive, the living dead.
Soft dreams, mellow land
Legs feel like a rubber band.
Water cloudy, far from pure
Tired life, Long to cure
Don't hold back and don't refrain,
Remix, reload and start again.
I no longer hurt
now you're gone.
Existence the dagger
starlight rebounds from.
Pain absorped to
Mother held my hand
I must offer in
I really belived it was her.
Mask so real
Her poison lips
The Poet and the Scientist
The poet and the scientist,
Opposing in my world
Battling for the universe,
Within the godhead curled.
My tortured soul, does beg of you
"Please let my madness scream,
Its Parodies and blasphemies_
The nightmare of this dream
Silence fool, weak versifier
Addicted to your game
You swallowed pills and sought the thrills
You have yourself to blame
I was afraid, and sought to hide
I needed some strong arm
To pull my soul, from mad control
Protect us all from harm_
As I ran across the car-park
Where the drums and cymbals rang
Devilish chimes and nursery rhymes
Mocked me, when they sang,
"Jude, THIS is hell, and YOU are dead.
Such daydreams you have had.
In quiet hush, in spirit crush
Youíve known that God is mad.
This is not poetry, this is revelation.
Poet descends addicted, into the hush.
Scientist watches and spits into a test-tube.
Judith starts doubling over, looking towards a far off parapet.
Seven strangers one by one are falling from the parapet, each dying on impact.
An eighth stranger enters the arena.
The scientist puts his strong hand over the mouth of the poet.
And shows Judith the vision of the parapet so she cannot trust.
Slowly the poet struggles free from the grasp of the scientist
The poet trusts the eighth stranger.
The eighth stranger dies by falling from an even higher parapet.
The poet breaks down and cries.
The scientist carries Judith through her life and turns her head away from the parapet.
A ninth stranger enters the arena
The scientist hands over the broken body of the poet
And covers the eyes of Judith so she cannot see the parapet.
Despite not being gagged by the scientist, the poet is too weary to speak
Tired of bruises and disappointment, Judith remembers what she cannot see.
The scientist and Judith are not able to trust
So destiny is in the hands of the wounded poet who is being cared for by the ninth stranger
Providence can you see
pain beneath skin
Within a wrenched heart
Singing violin requiems?
Bow the melodies
String quartet of discord
Sword cuts harmony
And still we weep.
The Boy from the High Rise Block
Entwined in poppies
Joel lies sleeping
Escaping the creeping
Cover your eyes
Angels who watch us
Joel has forgotten the promise.
Awaiting a freedom
For his generation
Brothers who wander
In pollen soaked clothes.
One day, you'll falter,
Fade down inthe heather,
Leaving opium fields on
Portsmouth beaches slowly tread.
Kalsi walks whilst in his head
Is dread of what lies next.
Do you recall grey London bricks
And kicks we get from city life?
Kalsi, for all time
Eclipse the Sun Divine
Obscure artist in your prime,
Paint a smile. For a while
Think of me.
Kalsi, please remember,
September in the Kilburn roads
The beat of our feet
On the street, and my laugh
As we sat on the path together.
No longer Kalsi.
Those days died.
But I have tried
To hold memory in a song,
Until our hearts forget?
Now, get your eisel set
For though, I know
Your brush strokes are a different game
Another side of far back days
In your picture frame.
Close your eyes and dream of death
Bitter pain of final breath.
What pleasure shall the reaper bring -
Sweet golden light on silver wing?
And choke all sorrows of the earth -
Fulfills the promise, second birth.
Perhaps as dreary mourners weep,
The poet falls to blackness deep,
The thought's too much, I've lost my mind
Perhaps one day the men will find
It cried some truth, the lonely voice.
This insane world - the sanest choice.
I am the night owl
Tuck head under
Broken wing by day,
I am betrothed
To the dark hollow.
You cannot enter.
absorp wicked substance -
droves of decadent drugs,
one fall to kill a young man.
smoky club, so soft,
so loving, so full of life.
the waterfall of pleasure
drifting through twisted
barbed wire dreams of halcyon days
soft serpent rainbows
swollen and angry Thames.
Walk invisible ghetto,
charred metal husks
motorcars and children
faces pale and blank.
pane of pain
enclose a thousand narcotic dreams
shattered multitude square fragments
refracting thin March sun, urban dream, poetic poverty.
weep still champagne,
sound splits air.
city dreams replace.
cough diesel grime
Can't see space
Extraterrestrial intelligence -
Profusion of Alien abodes ?
Puny stars reside
Deathly silence orbits red dwarfs
In my world
Remain locked up forever.
Perpetual light, spewing large flares
Relentless cycle of
Light and dark
Walking through Alice Holt Forest
Dusty July tracks,
Low, dense sweep of productive conifers
I and my brother from
Aldershot station walked
Between the baked clay tracks
Calluna (though I did not know that then) ,
Dotted with chirping grasshoppers
A frenzied orchestral effort
In a hot day.
Park in a lazy summer youth
Glimpsed a glancing foreign land
Behind mesh wire
Cockatoo, said howdoyoudo?
Then, (before we set off home)
We peered in the shadowy tanks
Aquarium the last stop before
We turned to walk back.
In a soaked paradise forest
Hear the hiss of train brakes
Near the station.
I think that night
I dreamt of parakeets, and
Yellow, red, emerald Macaws
Myriad sensory nerve ends in pleasure
Communicate death of this brief acute pain
Painkiller silences nightmare paralysis
Keep up the fight, keep the anger on rein
Bury my sorrow in swift urban legend
Lie in my room in the half-light of dawn,
Battle with monsters of growing sensation.
Grey world folding inwards, the curtain is drawn