The bright redemption

Bless her soul as she lays in her coffin
awake to the new morning
of the bright, bright redemption.

Bless her soul as now she lays their sleeping
adrift in death's sweet bliss
'till the bright, bright redemption.

Bless her soul as now she lays in earth
wrap her warm from Winter's snow
'till the bright, bright redemption.


And to us all who are left behind
bless all men of every kind,
bless all men of every kind.


Bless us all as now we make our journeys
away from finite earth
to the bright, bright redemption.

Moon

Orb of serenity
wanders slowly and subtly
across the endless majesty
of the heavenly skyway.

Soft light's gentle melody
plays oh so quietly
in harmonious beauty
across the footpaths and fields.

From round faced whiteness
to dark veiled shyness
the moon in its lightness
floats from rooftops to trees.

University Halls

*Edited version of an older poem*


Slandered on the juvenile philosophy of candle lit promises we stagger our moments. I struck my head on the idea and was left concussed.
The future is dimmed with techno beats, the thump and pound of a good night out, to drown concerns with one more shot, then to wake up with another.
"Parade the streets and expose yourself, just to show that you're still alive!"
As I squinted through the mist and fumes of lost minds in the University Halls I per chanced to notice you, a soul of glass among the oceans, you sank right to the bottom.
You were being drowned by the 'modern' ideas of "what is truth?", the hideous human gods, self deities with their chosen moralities and hypocrisy.
The room was too full of pictures and posters of naked idolised pop stars to even breathe.

There is no such thing as an innocent victim of death.
Life is living proof of this.

Song 1- Optimism

                             
There's a dark side to every man                           
but don't stay on that end
Look for the better side
That's how you make a friend.

With a life there must be a death
sad but it's true
hold them in your memories
for the trials you must do.

And always look on the lighter side
think optimistically
for there is much to see in the world
so much beauty.

Hair

Delicate strands of sonnets and rhymes kindly composed upon your brow.
The words, soft and pleasant, whisper through my fingers,
and form an elegant sentence down to your shoulders.

Parting kiss

To this, our parting kiss.
Beneath the trees
our last moments of bliss.

Our eyes a glaze as we did taste
sweet flavour of lips
and touch gentle waist.
Her words of love did soften my ear,
in tender voice
whispered: 'Be of good cheer,
for where I am going
the present God is
to which every moment and location
is His.
If our love be with Him and our love be true,
no doubt this God will return me to you'.

day is ended

and now day is ended
its faded light hovers the horizon.
the moon rises in subtle beauty
over blue and dark and ocean.
the moon a memory of glorious day
a foretaste of resplendent morn.

though cold she is lovely
a shaded sun before dawn.

A Visual Poem

You're a visual poem
a sonnet of skin
you rhyme in your beauty
and write with your grin.


*yes, girl in my life :)*

oh what sleepless dreams I have had tonight
of shaded rooms
and flickering streetlights.


-3:25 am

Pregnant Blue

While my consciousness becomes fluid

and spills over the moon

the stars conceive a sun

in the skies open womb

changing from barren black

to a living pregnant blue

to show the whole world

that again all is new.

Jazz records

In bed-
not writing for anyone, just writing.
The moon no longer exists,
the stars are swept under the carpets
and I'm heading the same way.
I can no longer think straight-

Set my soul to 33rpm
put on another Jazz record.

I've got the blues for broken poetry
all fragmented onto sheets
on an ill lit desk.
I've been left to make sense out of echos

After all, isn't that what a poet is meant to do?

-it's 2:09am-


I now truly feel deader than a dead butterfly.

Silk

*written in memories of waking up to a chilled, sunny, crisp Autumn morning*

Saintly heavenly sphere
rises with ominous blue eruption.
The trembling leaves
lightly
caressed by colour,
and walls of silk
seal
the empty spaces.

Wrestle with skin

Grasping limbs
in deep soil
blissfully submerged
-holy ignorance-
no face, no eye
no sun
'till the terrible bloom
reveals and imitates
death
(of sorts)
that strikes
as the light in shade.
I see through eyes
I wrestle with skin
and I am so very afraid.

Queen-Street Rain

Pregnant puddles swell into labouring pools.
Give birth to muggy streams.
Taking first steps down Queen Street.
Drowning city concrete.
Into city bus stops.
Tides of dirty street water
wash over my shoes.
Young girl's bag soaked by waves
generated by city buses,
Separating and dividing the water's unity.

Tuesday 17th January

the cats sit on the wall
cold air sits in my lungs
heavy breath hangs round my head
fogs my window
obscuring worldly features
into an unworldly blur
I cough-
my throat does not clear
my fingers stiffen
my toes buried in thick layered socks
head mounted on green scarf
the luminous globe gives no heat
stands naked in clear sky
freezing to death
dims to the horizon
dragging the blue blanket
along with the birds.

Thursday 12th January. Back from Stratford

a letter to

ye morning maidens,
thy mind, 'tis poison,
thou dost love the tongue.
Thou hast become
an ugly war-horse,
thou hast become
a deviant of the writings.
Thus, the ghost of Stratford
howls among the earth,
wearing whoring leathers,
with Shakespeare
and Elizabeth in hand.

New Years Poem

New. New music. New visual experiential choirs. New ideologies. New dog on the new £1000 rug.
My ears enjoy the sound of Newly strung auto-harps.
My fingers enjoy the feeling of New Love's soft hair.
My old fingers type out new words. My old pen releases new ink.
Ageing mothers give birth to new peoples.
New apples grow from old branches,
branches of ancient trees.
It took infinity to craft the finite.
It took God to make man.

Old and new have an aged relationship.

Water

From the bottom looking up,
the ripples of souls,
the confusion and contradiction,
the splash and swirls
of a million lights that dance
and disperse
and echo
into a visual choir.
The essence of existence
and being
condensed into a flow
between the banks
and as a stream,
an eternal liquid
above and below.