Alone With Everybody
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
A Sad Child
You're sad because you're sad.
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.
Well, all children are sad
but some get over it.
Count your blessings. Better than that,
buy a hat. Buy a coat or pet.
Enigmas
You've asked me what the lobster is weaving there with
his golden feet?
I reply, the ocean knows this.
You say, what is the ascidia waiting for in its transparent
bell? What is it waiting for?
I tell you it is waiting for time, like you.
You ask me whom the Macrocystis alga hugs in its arms?
Study, study it, at a certain hour, in a certain sea I know.
You question me about the wicked tusk of the narwhal,
and I reply by describing
Why Am I Not Good Enough?
1. Take a shower you don't want to smell.
2. Pick out an outfit that will blend in with the latest trends and won't make you a laughing stock of the school more than you already are
3. Put on some makeup so you can't even recognize yourself and your face tingles with an unbelievable issue. You can't satisfy otherwise you'll have ruined the hours of meticulous painting you apply to your face.
4. Don't forget to style your hair in elegant curls. You can't let everyone at school see how your hair frizzes up.
What Is Music To You?
Music is freedom that relentlessly exists
Freedom of speech
Freedom of thought
Freedom of creativity
Freedom of imagination
Music is ever soothingly healing
A bombardment of on-going expression of feelings
Music is a tool of unity
Always bringing people together as family
Eye (I) Monster
Last night, I saw a monster.
First it was just a shadow
By degrees it became clearer and clearer
Finally it stood out
Clear as clear can be.
Handless it was, really handless
With a shock I knew
That it was legless too
Yet, it was standing straighter than straight
All I See Is You --In Top 500
I want to be your fragrant musk,
I want to be that soft breeze that gently touches your soul,
I want to be that fire, which enflames your heart,
I want to bathe in the ocean of your passions,
And feel the caresses of the waves of your love,
I eat, I drink, I sleep you,
These words resonate in me,
“Blessed be thou forever”,
God above- only knows what I desire,
Billy
Never speaks
Trapped within damaged brain
Body twisted, limbs trembling
Sitting in hospital yard
Humming tunes without melody.
Bright soul standing tall
Articulate mind intact
Singing melodious songs of love
Only God and he can hear.
The Hard
Here on the Hard, you're welcome to pull up and stay;
there's a flat fee of a quid for parking all day.
And wandering over the dunes, who wouldn't die
for the view: an endless estate of beach, the sea
kept out of the bay by the dam-wall of the sky.
Notice the sign, with details of last year's high tides.
Walk on, drawn to the shipwreck, a mirage of masts
I Broke My Leg
I have no time to notice
what takes place around me
Distractions daily duties grab focus
away from who I am might be
I break my leg and the misery
means I must lie still do not move
as every simple motion spasm
Bewildered Soul
God, tell me, who am I
Am I your passionate child
or someone who is wicked and wild.
Am I the one with aim and mission
or someone with distorted vision.
Am I like a child who never cries
or like a man who never tries.
Am I the one with loads of ambition
or someone trapped, full of inhibition.
Am I the one with peaceful mind
Canal Bank Walk
Leafy-with-love banks and the green waters of the canal
Pouring redemption for me, that I do
The will of God, wallow in the habitual, the banal,
Grow with nature again as before I grew.
The bright stick trapped, the breeze adding a third
Party to the couple kissing on an old seat,
And a bird gathering materials for the nest for the Word
Eloquently new and abandoned to its delirious beat.
O unworn world enrapture me, encapture me in a web
Of fabulous grass and eternal voices by a beech,
Immortality
In Sleeping Beauty's castle
the clock strikes one hundred years
and the girl in the tower returns to the world.
So do the servants in the kitchen,
who don't even rub their eyes.
The cook's right hand, lifted
an exact century ago,
completes its downward arc
to the kitchen boy's left ear;
the boy's tensed vocal cords
Poetry
In the same way that the mindless diamond keeps
one spark of the planet's early fires
trapped forever in its net of ice,
it's not love's later heat that poetry holds,
but the atom of the love that drew it forth
from the silence: so if the bright coal of his love
begins to smoulder, the poet hears his voice
suddenly forced, like a bar-room singer's -- boastful
with his own huge feeling, or drowned by violins;
but if it yields a steadier light, he knows
A Beautiful Mask Of Smile!
Who has not crossed the bridge of emotions?
Which keeps on flickering?
Day and night like the beautiful stars
Twinkling in the sky,
Though not visible in bright sunlight
It's like the mask of beautiful smiles,
Covering the painful face.
It's like a bird trapped in
Cage sings a painful song
The Predator
You have a razor-sharp mind
And a barb wit
You speak eloquently
It matches
Your long black damask robe.
In your court
You have a zest for verbal combat
And strongly worded views
On all issues.
Sunrise At Skellig Michael
Night’s paling azurite horizon
cloaked in a gossamer veil of clouds
briefly contests the sunrise
thus allowing nights last stars
some fickle final twinkling
before dwindling from sight
But the Sun has promises to keep
a rendezvous with day
already marked as tardy
What Is School Like?
School is like a prison
We can't leave,
School is like an island
We are all trapped,
School is like a pie
It is good at first until you reach the crust,
School is like a toilet
Houses Chapter Ix
A mason came forth and said, "Speak to us of Houses."
And he answered and said:
Build of your imaginings a bower in the wilderness ere you build a house within the city walls.
For even as you have home-comings in your twilight, so has the wanderer in you, the ever distant and alone.
Your house is your larger body.
Telling Our Stories
the fox came every evening to my door
asking for nothing. my fear
trapped me inside, hoping to dismiss her
but she sat till morning, waiting.
at dawn we would, each of us,
rise frm our haunches, look through the glass
then walk away.
did she gather her village around her