Freedom's Walk

How I wish to roam,
Amidst the skeletal ribs of ships,
Past the decimal point,
Along the pebble shore.

Freedom from mundane shackles,
The longed for emancipation of man,
Is elusive as the breeze,
Whilst laying in a deathly still,
Becalmed upon the sea.

'In Blue' Trilogy - Deep in Blue

Deep In Blue

In your eyes I see tomorrow,
The future reflected brilliance,
Spotlight on the coming dawn,
Far to the distant horizon.

I see a beckoning path,
A smile amidst the blue,
Welcoming me to the future,
Time stretched out to you.

I see what might be,
Happiness, laughter and light,
All that, I see in your eyes,
And I know my love is true.

'In Blue' Trilogy - Drawn into Blue

Drawn into Blue

I could stare into your eyes for days,
Each mood expressed in only blue,
Your eyes envelop my being,
With every shade and hue.
Drawn deep within those pools,
I swim amongst your soul,
In warm caressing water,
That soothes away my pain,
And holds my heart, yet still.
Held in most sensuous light,
Softened by your deep desire,
The crystal clarity of emotional colour,
Shadowed by points yet richly dark,
Spellbound, enchanted by blue,
Watching the ways of you.

'In Blue' Trilogy -Lost in Blue

Lost in Blue

Blue lucid pools,
Reflected depth serene,
Calm quiet peace,
Floating languid centres.

Water worn clouds fleet away,
Across the darkening sky,
Storms grow deeper still,
Amidst the rough wave tops.

Sparkling light reflected,
Twinkling warm candle light,
Soft enveloping water,
Ripple spilling in starlight.

In your bright blue eyes,
With dark coal centres,
I see my haunting reflection,
Lost in the morning mist.

Astrafiammante

A word meaning starblazing.

----------------------------

A point in the darkness,
A Searing light,
Bright arcs of rain,
Great leap of flight.

A chance to shine so greatly,
A point to make,
Starblazing across the sky,
Beyond the dream.

No imagination here,
But Crystal clear,
No soft hued dream of fancy,
But a gift to be.

Ode to the Sticky Yellow Note

The original, the undisputed champion,
You have conquered the world,
Where lesser have failed,
The world belongs to you, every office in it.

When I want to mark my place in a book,
You are there,
When I need to take a message,
You are there,
When I need to annotate a report,
You are there,
When white paper becomes too dull,
You are always there.

O little square of yellow,
I have a confession to make,
I recently discovered your orange sister,
A young usurper of your fame,
I am forever deep with shame,
But it is only a passing fad,
So many young flashy pretenders to the throne,
Will not linger long,
For yellow, is the only true, sticky note.

Teardrop Dreams by Moonlight

I

Alone I stood in my dream,
Upon a path by a riverbank,
Deep within the night of Oxford.
Standing still in the silver light,
Gifted from a full moon.
Still I stood for dream time,
As I watched myself standing,
Standing by the riverside,
Standing tall by a willow.
Alone again I cried,
As the moonlight shimmered,
Across the face of a forming tear,
In the corner of my eye,
The water welled up,
From the depths of my heart,
To the spring on the craggy mountainside,
Of my cold stony face.
The weight pulled it slowly,
As it ran down my cheek,
Leaving a path of sorrow,
Cooling in the midnight air.
As it reached the final drop,
It paused an infinite moment,
In the ghostly light.
Silently as a spirit,
It fell.
Dropping like a stone,
The lead weight of sorrow,
Dropping to my feet.
As I stood and watched this tear.
It reflected back the truth,
It showed me all my hopes and fears,
Encompassed in that drop,
My journey through time,
And my path hereto in sorrow.
The journey for that tear must end,
I knew it in my heart,
As it hit the ground and broke,
I felt the air clear,
The binding stillness broken,
As broken as the tear.

II

I had this dream a second night,
In all its monochromatic splendour.
Again on the third night,
I was visited by this vision.
On the fourth night,
I tossed and turned,
Nor wanting, nor caring,
To see the truth revealed.
Alas on the fifth night,
I resolved to face my dreams.
As I stood and watched my double,
I shouted,
I can't remember what I said,
But my double turned and spoke,
"I knew you would come,
You want to know who for this tear,
All is not what you see,
Yes it is a tear of sorrow,
But in this dream,
What message does this tear contain?
One of love and kindness,
Of accepting yourself and your sorrow,
Since you have chosen your path,
To love and care freely,
You will often stand on that riverbank,
And shed a single tear,
But each tear will break,
Better for the breaking,
You might not always stand alone,
Better for the sharing,
Balance in all things,
Happiness and sorrow,
Trust your heart,
Be yourself my friend,
Not worry too much, or too little,
And enjoy each and every emotion,
Learn to accept your tears."

Seeking Serendipity

Once upon a train to Didcot,
A wise man wonderfully whispered,
"Seek Serendipity my son".
Strange, he was not my father.
Just a clichéd charismatic character.
For as I recall my thoughts,
My mind jumps to explain,
The unlooked for happening,
Upon that train.
"Seeking Serendipity?" Replied I
"Yes" Quoth the wise man,
With steely eye.
I turned away from the wiseman,
But have you not missed the point,
Thought I,
'Tis meant to be unlooked for,
So "why?"
I turned once more to the wiseman,
Who refrained from commenting more.

Time passed,
The train rattled,
The sleeping world sped by,
And my eyelids began to droop,
Monotony became common shared time.
In the darkening twilight I puzzled,
Upon the mages words.

"Tickets to serendipity"
Chirped the guard.
"Pardon?"
I bleakly replied
Before a word was uttered more,
The wiseman reported,
"He knows not of serendipity"
In that you may be thwarted
"He does have that glazed grin"
Said the guard,
Tapping her polished boot,
Upon the floor,
"It is simple young sir!"
Exclaimed the ticket maid,
In a voice that spoke of white knights on horse,
"You cannot seek but you must be open"
Words uttered echoed into silence.
As we rode into Didcot Parkway station.

I got up to leave the wiseman and the maid,
Who said not goodbye,
But spoke as one, "Remember!"
My head lost in deep thought.
I departed across the gap,
I alighted into the orange glow,
My eyes hard upon the floor
A lass brushed past on my left,
Something white fell away,
In the corner of my eye,
My footsteps arrested,
I stood staring,
At this object so white,
At this bereft handkerchief,
"Miss" I cried,
For I was not late tonight,
But she was already seated,
Without a thought I charged,
Making the step with a bound,
The doors cut through the air,
To complete the surround,
And as the train began to sway,
I spoke up,
"Miss, you dropped this"
As her head turned to take in this new voice,
Between the clack of the wheels on the track,
My head leant to one side,
My eyes opened wide,
My heart jumped the gap,
Her eyes said welcome back,
And the wiseman and the maid spoke again,
"Serendipity next stop!"
With a smile and a nod,
I took her hand and held on.

Guilt

I feel so small,
It is my fault,
I should have known better,
Taken some responsibility,
I should have seen the signs,
If only I had...
Or maybe...
I do not know anymore,
I feel so inept,
So powerless
So tiny,
I suffer in silence,
As no one would blame me at all,
So no one could understand,
How I could feel the way I do,
I feel it's my fault,
I feel awkward,
I feel responsible,
I just feel,
Guilty.

Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

"If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants"
- Sir Isaac Newton

Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

You can see the sea from here,
And walk through small fluffy white clouds,
As you go from shoulder to shoulder
Holding your breath above the void below.

You can see the East Coast,
You can see the West Coast,
And beneath your feet, the giant,
Stretching your imagination down to the ground.

Birds circle the giant's head,
Cavorting like maidens round a may pole,
But on his shoulders you stand,
Seeing what your eye can see.

From there you see it all,
Spread out like a tablecloth,
With your eyes you see the truth,
It is an ever changing, beautiful world.

Standing on the shoulders of giants,
We can see so far.

I Miss You...BestFriend

We are not friends now,
Divided waves by ships bow,
I miss our chats,
Exchanging letters hitting mats.

I miss your smile,
Your laugh and guile,
I miss your jokes,
And opinion on blokes.

We shared the path you and I,
Shared our dreams and made them fly,
We shared the rough and the rougher
And together showed we were tougher.

I miss your tolerance and charm,
I miss your contented calm
You were the last to leave my side,
When I needed a place to hide.

I miss your laughter,
And for ever hereafter,
Regret the breaking of our friendship,
To leave along life's trip.

If only one word,
To make myself heard
To make amend
Is this, BestFriend.

If you Love Someone

Inspired by the quote:

"If you love someone, let them go, If they return to you, it was meant to be. If they don't their love was never yours to begin with"

-Source Unknown

If you Love Someone

If you love someone,
Let them go,
If you love someone,
Set them free,
Close your eyes,
Wave farewell,
Tell them,
That you love them,
But they must be free,
That you care for them,
But it is time for them to leave,
To find their own way,
Their own path.
Having said your piece turn away,
And walk home.

If someone loves you,
They won't let go,
If someone loves you,
They won't want to be free,
Open your eyes,
If they return to you,
It is meant to be.

If someone does not return,
It was not meant to be,
If someone does not come back,
The love was never there,
And their love was never yours to begin with.

Dreams, Contrasts and Realities

Earth below, sky above,
In the middle was the poet,
On a hill he stood,
Hands outstretched,
Within a sultry expectant summer balm,
A conductor with literal baton unfurled.

Fields of golden words surround the hill,
Waiting to be claimed,
To fulfil the poet's needs,
And fill the sky from horizon to horizon,
To speak of dreams, contrasts and realities.

Tap, Tap, a shaft of sunlight announces the title,
An ink stained hand poised with mighty pen.

Words fly searing the dust mots,
Of the lazy summer afternoon.

The overture concluded,
The symphony begins,
A dance of whirling waltzes,
Words flying together and apart,
Sentences forming and dissolving,
Punctuation pulls together,
Structure ebbs and flows.

Strong emotions fill the poem,
To play the harp strings of the heart.

Images so creative and colourful,
Sear memories across the retina of life,

A heightened sense of awareness,
And a vast immense significance.

Out of chaos,
Comes a newborn screaming poem,
Bursting with ripe emotional fireworks,
Illuminating and touching ever soul.

But the golden fields are barely diminished,
Words to make more poems,
For there are always,
More dreams,
More contrasts,
And more realities.

Greetings weary traveller

Welcome, however you got here.

I have been writing poetry on and off since 1995 and I have also had my own website since then, although it has moved around to different places on the interweb.

I now have a collection of approximately 120 poems. This blog is going to be about presenting them in a different way.

I will post one of my poems a week, only the text of the poem, I have another blog for more general stuff.

Over time this will turn into a copy of my original website although with a different index of tags and posts by date.

Feel free to subscribe to the RSS feed to get a weekly update.

The only question left is where to start, I guess I could start with a poem about writing poetry and just go on from there.