Thought,

outside the realm of possibilities

Chaos …

beyond belief:

and great faith.

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You want me darker,

So you inflict the pain.

You want me darker, 

So my heart is where your arrow aims.

You want me darker, 

But a glimmer of innocence still remains. 

You want me darker,

But when I can’t love I am the one blamed. 

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Why was I born?

My existence means little thus no one would mourn, 

Stuck in this caliginous realm where my soul is constantly forlorn. 

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A sense of belonging that’s foreign to me.

To be able to feel the warmth of love would bring a sense of glee,

But anyone I’ve grown close to seems to flee.

Left with the scars of abandonment creating emotional ripples. 

All whilst leaving my heart warped and feeling brittle.

Losing my faith in my dear Lord little by little. 

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What if the Sabbath weren’t a day
but a state of being
that permeates our earthereal Eden? 

What would you keep holy? 

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the fire is for You a beloved magic

which You are easy able to give to the people like gold

the love of the people is an overjoyed day-dreaming

dear Titan You like the people against Zeus deeply

the human-being made from tears and clay is admiring You

the eternal dreamer and the cloudy rider so delicately

thanks to humane skills – we know them anyway

with Apollon You go on a j...

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Under the yellow-green of sunlit beech

between banks of bluebells' hazy blue

where supple crosiers of new fern reach             

over verdant moss still damp with dew

a grassy lane runs beside the river

In the mystic quiet of a leafy dome

of grey bark ash, beech and mighty oak

a far cuckoo calls the dryads home

but we pass unseen by woodland folk

'til tylwyth teg w...

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Between the dark Ystwyth and the angry sea

We walked the cold stone beach

From the swirling river mouth

To the striated rocks beneath the southern cliff

Their upended strata pointing the way across Tan y Bwlch

Beyond the town beneath its northern cliffs

A Celtic god watches and menaces

Black Lugus on Pen ddinas Maelor:

We brave his fierce storms which shade our day

...

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Semper animus libera

PROMETHEUS:

O Thou that watches over all

And marks the good in man

Unnamed Godhead of all the thronging spirits

Who guard thy mortal worlds -

When skies darken and the plunging waves roil through

When the mountains themselves spit ruddy fire

And melt into valleys or crash steaming into the ocean deeps -

To keep thy people safe in those mortal li...

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i

Innocent

     he met a force

Untried

            it held him

... and wonder drained the world of substance

            re-arranged the pages of his book to give more radiant a reading.

The light of new possibilities

pressed down on time.

The girl sang to him "You can hear the boats go by". He

l...

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Lost in transition

Your words carried like a brief encounter

Emotion is the monster hiding outside the walls

Gangreen in suburbia and skinned alive

With donkey ears! Good Gods!

Occupations occupy stations on the wall

Barrymore paints the myths of time

To hang in Manchester as a quiet man

Tells of lost love.

Sonnets to art leave us lost

There's rumo...

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M A T C H S T I C K

“And to his rock be bound eternal; forever gifting man all that is infernal.
Bound by chain, suffering as the eagle’s meal; freedom bought by the one who shall steal.
Unto the eagle’s beak his blood be lash; to control he who shall become our man of ash.”
___________________________

There is always blood flowing down Prometheus’ mountaintop. He who had delivered to hum...

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Dear Sigyn,

you fool.

We both know he doesn’t love you.

Catching the venom meant for his eye,

silent even though he should cry

out in fury at your meddling.

Dear Sigyn,

you fool.

Even the serpent laughs at you.

I’d think your body was through

even if your heart was still into

an idiot’s errand that no one would rue.

Dear Sigyn,

you fool.

The end ...

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~~Orphan phantom all alone
Within reach from dusk till dawn
Scuttling limbs of Arthropods
Play the harmonious earthly cords
Bitter velvet in water’s core
Chanting monks, four by four
Angelic screams jogs the storm
As hounding harps rabbits their form
Burning icebergs cremating ghoul
Ecstatic mermaids make love to fools
Travellers boat, companion Charon
Spring has lost to Persophone
Ele...

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It speaks, says they
In a form of perish
She sleeps purely
to only start waving
to them and their
little deformed spirits
Come closer, hence –

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Gatekeeper

All seeing eyes
Guardian of the gate,
Sat atop
the stairway of skins.
Sewn together
with satyr hair.
Counting the days,
ticking them off
in a parchment book
with a pen on a string
twined with spider thread.

Sits in the sunlight
and watches the workers
to-ing and fro-ing
like ants on a hill
with their own little tasks,
while he has no legs,
just sits in a chair
wei...

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The Walkin’ Man

For Pete Seeger (May 3rd 1919 – January 27th 2014)

Serendipity Spangle was a walkin’ man -
of that, there is no doubt,
he walked across great continents
and was seen round here about.
With his low slung jeans and guitar,
he had no need for fancy suits,
he just roamed the great blue yonder
in his worn down cowboy boots .

Those who were there at his birth
cross their...

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