Our Warrior of Poetry Ian, is assembling his new book with illustration, and you can catch Poetry Corner with the poems at 8.30pm every Wednesday on the Shindig Show at www.mightyradio.co.uk 107.9 FM in the Southport, Preston area. Poems of a Working Class Hero, the forthcoming book, stay tuned.
Life
Life, be joyous at this moment, at this time I found speech in the heavens, like a wise bird upon an illusionary branch. I sang of the joy, of being able to wake up and live another day. For this joy I made my mission and flew around in exaltation of the benevolences of the others. I never met those unseen that gave me life so I could sing my songs in praise of An Almighty.
Starman
I am Starman engulfed in purple magnificence resplendent to all in the space of spaces inner space in my mind I’m on it in it, legend in my own lunch hour, living it. The oval enclosure that is my craft, my space ship, my protector, my inner harmony, the divine creator I have evolved from Elton John & Rocket Man, I am now Starman. Play.
No Account
Taking no account of the time it flew by it was as if this was on purpose as it created a blur of confusion it was if I had imagined clocks spinning furiously towards control this seemed to be fast enough to make a blur the plot was thickening too many wars too many dying of bullets or virus the target for the thinning had begun as the Buddhist said to the earth we go the dust had hardly settled when a whirring began descending over chaos science fiction came real to kill or save we would find out invasion of the outers had begun with gold spheres leading the way.
Land of Pedigree Chums
England and the land of the pedigree chums but the gentry are catching up, refinements and acquisitions are all the vogue, and the accent is getting a touch affected each carries opinions of miniature dictator the problems are effected by the touch of a button the A Listers rule, and whose doing what to who and whosoever no-one cares. Its a pity your expensive car on four wheels represents you, but I have a secret, the old man goes by on the old bike guess what that was royalty going by because he has thirty grand in the loft, and I am scaling the loft ladder, when in Rome, reader, when in Rome.
How Tiny
How tiny we all are non of us were born in the sky no angel did we hang from no divine mother’s with open arm arms held us up there in a Theosophy sky panorama so why do we reach when we inevitably fall the earth owns us and consumes our all the wind gathers our collective dusts of death and relocates us grown again by rain on earth and the many facets of benevolent sun and wars say all about our lack of development that Wain’s by the day.
Don’t Pick Up
Don’t pick up dark energies from humans don’t look them in the eyes walk on keep happy with optimism inside all the waking time if you can you will sense a kindred spirit upon your track when you meet them and that is worth all dark looks and vaccous comment as the dark ones walk their nothings perfect but this may help
Retracing
Retracing the faultlines for the sacred state just so much is needed for our lives would be pointless if we couldn’t put things right ,so many sins so many disaters so pointless our lives become if we cannot mend part of turbulent history in disturbed lives despair occurs never to be Godlike and white pure but maybe the harmony and healing of the violet flame to bath in.
