The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive
The Poetic Warrior Returns to his Poetry after Illness Welcome One, Welcome All
An epitaph to the feline friend of Mason Cult.
Stone cats in the sun will they ever live again, feral destiny was never good my squashed cat friend has expired. His short coil now ended abandoned flat and no more, now his coat is his, all his soul has sped away.
We noted him, we will try to remember him, but I sense we will all be stiff one day. Our thoughts will be as rigid as our bodies it a price we pay for gods gift short or long, that is mortality for Pluto the tomcat he is dead.
A story from Mason Cult on the impact of withdrawing rail services back in the day by Mr Beeching. Longing for the sound of the train, but there is no track for I have to go a long way back.
Dark evenings in a moonlit village where street lights had not arrived, the smell of farms and heat from barns, as you walked on by, the sound of feet, ones that you recognise a village, a communal den of rivalry, conspiracy and gossip. So I dream in the core of that old village overgrown and derelict, on a chilly evening the time was moving close to 7pm an image of the thirty children came too me, I had been still, waiting, listening, the best I could for the persistent chuff and pulse of a tiny steam train with few carriages, coming ever closer to the village station and the scattering of cottages and farm houses bringing back the first brave who were tasting the smoke of industrial towns and the many new roles.
I was too young to know of decline but sure enough my family village died in a remote valley high enough up for snow to stay longer and steam trains to time there journeys. I woke up and looked for a sign, a derelict rail track sighted stretching and winding through a distant hillside, remains of hotchpotch dwellings, windowless and tattered linings of decorating paper flapping inside the weather raped cottages, old carbons in a naked fireplace waiting for the camping fraternity to pass by and re-engage the flue, in glow and imagination retrospective tatty artifacts to remind the transient visitors that living hearts and souls did beat, as longing as yours, existed
at two thousand feet up a hilly train track in 1959.
Tickets to the parallel universe we’ve all had those moments, you know the ones you may go to bed for to rest awake and drift off, but it is not a dream, for you are somewhere else not a frightening place for you are not quite there yet.
Is it the future or could it be the past you get caught up in five hundred years ago or it could be a distant time it is all to play for as the gateway to other worlds swirls in your head.
So you go back to a time talking to your friend near an open fire in the cottage, your friend says “have you ever thought sitting here with me that another world is running along side ours, people sit, go about business in blissful ignorance of us in a parallel world, perhaps we are sat in a car park and who knows perhaps we occasionally see each other in matrix type glitches. It really could be a crowded place and maybe we should not know about this aspect of our creation, perhaps the creator has played out an enduring mystery. It may frighten us and them and compromise our thoughts in current existence.”
Will we open up the door or should I return to the sleep and think of where this may take me.
Dreams are often confusing and I have always wondered why anyone would use them as a basis to place any wish upon.
What exactly was happening in the room me and my friend sat in, is the past in operation or has the future commissioned itself, is it flowing by control from a giant computer like in the matrix, but one cannot see it, the carpet of human beings upon earth just a phenomena without cause or reason to be solely determined in progress by the multiple mistakes of mankind.
This could leave the impression that there are many earths existing somewhere else in different stages of development. But how do we access or enter the unknown of the parallel universe, we learn to let it into our minds and that means we must have a preview of how to engage the correct orbit. So we must utilise the inner tunnels of our minds unknowingly perhaps we are entangled with those from the parallel world.
The theory goes that as the Lord made the world in seven days you have seven inner orbits within your mind indicating several different worlds at various different development stages in their own time and histories. You are in the one you exist in currently and there could other you’s tall you, small you, different colour you, different times and lives all acting in unity with a divine will to sample all of what it has created in all variants.
In very infrequent cases you may be sat in a room in a relaxed semi conscious state, where you are aware something is going on in that room, will you push your hand forward and feel the other side, will the other you see you, will you greet each other or will the other you look in shock that a twin in another world peers inwards, the creator plays a strange game of dice for sure. Tickets to the parallel universe on sale soon.
Multiverse The Case For Parallel Universe
The arrogance of control was living on, above the ground, the poverty was draining the relatives still looking for a lifebelt with a crock of gold in the middle.
Time was running out so was patience, the survivors took the graveyard rubbing hardened lichen from weather worn wobbly stones and there it stood, as I speaking aloud.
It is here, all you are seeking, I am the mystery relative, dead but a saviour nonetheless you will find the box of an unknown uncle the contents inside the brazen husk will unlock all you requirements forever, it is called hell.
Astral transmission do you read me, the doors are open it is time to go, do not tell anyone I am going, for really they will never know, that a rainbow landed at my feet, the colors of the cosmos curved for speedworthy travel. There will never be a wall again no dividers to heaven no call to earth to say I am safe I will be one of the stars with no name, you see me everywhere we are all too common and mostly ignored.