For Mother

For all mothers.  She died not long ago a shining light, a face as sculpture in a track of life upon a belt of stars, on par with life streams. Upon a journey to be cared for in everlasting light that shineth through to eternity.  Waiting there for all who loves her mother’s are all…

Six Deep One Sin & I Put a Lid On

Six deep, one sin a minute, then out we go not conscious of any imminence optimism is the best ghost story, in your worst dream saving lives in intermittent waking under the pull of benevolent moon and in the morning god given sun so sustained are we.

I Put A lid On…

I put a lid on a fire and look for a sign it is lit there is smoke there are shapes in plumes I put another lid on I Stoke the fire it rages the shape is angry and determined but I am tired and can’t keep up with fire that consumes and delivers smoke equal measure to keep up with a fire in my heart that is trying to keep up with life running away

Old Man’s Wish

Old man’s wish monotonic wailing away it’s a wish that never was trapped in a chair of diminish, the legs won’t go as get up and go is gone, faded as the sun stained papers by his side. There’s whoosh outside no friends to see just homes aliens driving evolution’s metal meters on the highways day, but old man wish is young inside, a golden sphere rotating light inside his head waiting for the fourth incarnation to start life a new as a young man once more.

Thinking of a Sky

Thinking of a sky much in tune with the present, thousands and millions of skies phenomenon?. Or god man was dealt the puzzle, languages essence and auras the experiment commenced, everything stank and hurt the obnoxious act procurement of innocents crying to this sky and every woman, joy after sacrifice and pain. All grew mostly faulty in the experimental environments bone and dust became the squirm of swine herds, grunting sniffing acorns from trees of strength but always and always a magnitude of duplicitous sky.

You Yearn

You yearn to see them but they are gone, I look up as far as I can go stuck upon the ground I know I cannot fly, breezes softly glance hair upon my ears where are you all. Now short circuits in the mind, struggle to interpret ate loss thoughts on intangible entities in common streets.

I feel the cold brush of self determined souls most driven by fear and vulnerabilities, so I run and run till breath and age allows me no more, I ask where have they gone I am near the past and to a beyond where those I loved in human lines have gone, but the messages still come and a make believe ladder is waiting for all to ascend to a benevolent creator where we can harbour in no fear.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive