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Poetry
Poems from the Void
Beauty is as it is
Beauty is as it is
Untouched by motive
Simple
Uncontrived
Pristine
Nothing added
Nothing removed
Raw, pagan, savage
Needless indifferent
Preferring the pureness of death
To the decay of compromise
The masterpiece of life
The human soul
Unblemished by deceit
Untouched by cynicism
Un soured by bitterness
Shinning in blazing awe
On a malignant world
Ever Presence
Gliding on the eddy’s of a dream
Drifting on the oceans of the mind
Yesterdays lost to anticipation
Depending on tomorrow hoping
Sucked into the cyclone of believing
That there’s something to believe
Here, right now, always
As solid as concrete gone hard
Unmovable, unwavering, rigid ever present
Thoughts floating on its glazier surface
Create images
Lives and worlds are formed
The dreams is dreamt
As real as it seem
As believable as you can believe
Birthing pain or joy and then gone
Like weather, images flow
Like earth, presence is
Creation dances while presence ever present waits
The imaginings of the mind
Create apparent life in the fertile fields of stillness
Everything is as it Thinks it is
Everything is as it thinks it is
Beyond that there is nothing
When the illusion ends
All is clear
As it is
As it was always
The mountain dreams it is a mountain
And the eagle soars and is an eagle
The sun shines and the man toils
The fruit of his labour is pain
For he drinks from the enchanted cup
And is consumed into its dream
Trying to be what he is not
Believing
And because he believes bearing its offspring
When belief ceases to believe
Truth will know itself
Father Enter My Heart
Father enter my heart
Melt its frozen flesh
Breathe a rainbow into my blood
Make me passion
Dance on my listless soul
Let your footstep be my path
To liquid night
Drown my death in intimacy
Anoint this chalice
With the ocean
I Am Dead
I am dead yet alive
Haunted by a body
That has possessed me
Insidiously pervading my emptiness
Becoming me and I vanquished
Created from fear
Panic spews
Within the throughout’s of me
Plugging my every crevice
Slamming my dungeon door
Freedom for me now
Is a shadow that I glimpse
Hopes promise fading
A candles flicker, pleading,
Glimpsed behind drawn drapes
If People were Flowers
If people were flowers
They would bloom at night
Ashamed to expose the raw beauty
Of their naked soul
To the prying eye of light
In the End
In the end there is nothing to do but die
A life times achievements like clouds are memorable only in passing
Serving only to distort the meaning of existence yet leaving existence untouched
Perhaps posterity will remember but only until it forgets
Civilizations appearing great wait for usefulness to deem them useless
The dogma of the day denying reason in hope that ignorance will make truth of belief
Castles fall and heroes fade while oaks and acorns go about the day’s business unfettered
Everything in nature except man is content to be what it is doing what it does
Our folly our importance, our image our reality, our belief our truth
A lifetime flittered forming a foundationless facade and it falling as it rises
Lifetimes ignoring the throbbing reality that pines in our empty hollow dungeon
The dream of a dreamer looking everywhere for meaning but to meaning
If I became a king and ruled the world and all men knelt before my majesty
Would god too kneel, would the oak bow as I passed, would even a single fly care
Who in all this vastness can love anything but love or gain anything but a notion
That I could be other than I am is the deceit that veils my bleeding heart from me
Deep within my island kingdom I resided in bejeweled splendour
Untouched by want or doubt or fear I was a freedom less freedom
Till rumour sowed its searching seed in my virgin soul
And lured me from my island home to till times needful ground
Home ever home a hunger calls me home more always more an emptiness drives me on
I wonder is divine wisdom the realization that there’s nothing to gain and nothing to do
Am I home already believing that I’m lost searching in vain for what I already am
Is belief the eternal deceit the shimmering veil drawn between me and myself
Life Has Cursed Me
Life has cursed me with a promise
The drawn shade
The cracked door
The stolen glimpse
Burdened I stumble
Were others flourish
Craving I wane
Were others thrive
How strange to be strange
In a familiar place
How lost to be alone
In the shadow of a dream
I love and I wait
For the ocean on the highland
I cry in my night
For the sun to come home
My
When you say “my”
You have accepted responsibility
For something
In the material world
It’s not yours
But now in ownership
You are burdened by its care
Now you must protect and defend
You have cast yourself into the service
Of that which you declare ownership of
In claiming ownership
You are the owned
Once you were free
Now in bondage to “my”
You are eternal made mortal
A fool in paradise crying salt bitter tears
Paint Me a Rainbow
Paint me a rainbow
Weave me a web
Draw me a crossing
A cosmic viaduct
That I may span
The vast oceans of guilt
That judge and sentence me
To what I am
Free me from my treasured burdens
The yoke of fear
The chains of expectation
The whip of condition
The threat of god
The sanction of love
I am Everest I am conquered
I am ocean I am raped
I an earth I am owned
I am sky I am free
I soar above the tyrant time
Mystery is an open book
To any who would look
Have mercy on opinion
For it is blind
Somewhere
Somewhere
Is a place in a mind
That cannot comprehend
That there really is nowhere
Which in reality
Is everywhere
The Dreamer Dreams
The dreamer dreams
The world appears
Thoughts deceive
Emotions rage
Belief believes
Terrified by loss
Fear plays to win
Pretend bluffs
Reality folds
Life’s chips are stacked
Turned inside out and upside down
Dazzled by everything
Seeing nothing
Searching for water in an ocean
Free can’t be free because it’s free
The Endless Moment Flickers
The endless moment flickers
And blesses its own dawning
Men knell and bow their heads
In fear of their own passing
The sky cries
The river swells
The ocean is
Flickers fade it is their purpose
And eyes that shed a tear for their passing
Wait to know
That a desert is but grains of sand
When the final nighttime falls
And the candle and it’s fire both
Are but memories children
Scripture will tell of a light
That flickered, flamed, faded and fell
I remember as a boy by my father’s side
Tasting the blood of demons he had slain
What matter it if the dark night steals my soul
For I have swam in ancient waters and drowned in their tranquility
And who can take what you are from you
Not time I say
Not time
The Longing is in the Loss
The longing is in the loss
The loss in the perception
What else is there
In a world in a mind
In a dream
This trying to be that
Empty yearning to be filled
So infatuated by reflections
Never seeing that empty is the prize
Looking everywhere but that one place
Listening to fools
Believing their promise
Following words into a desert
My soul thirsts
My spirit wanders in the wilderness
Searching for destinations on a map
Where every signpost is a journey
Every step takes me further into lost
Every success compounds failure
Every gain deepens the misery of loss
The Poetry of Life
The poetry of life
Has no rhyme in its reason
The warrior poet
Hacks remorselessly
At any who stray into his path
Indifference his instrument
Carnage his ink
Grief may stoop to ask why
The artist sneers why not
Truth knows that beauty is a rawness
That few can bear to taste unmasked
Pleasure the seasoning of the masses
Pain the stem that holds the bright black rose
The Real World
The real world
Plays for keeps
Pretend pretends
Reality eat
Mountains soar into the sky
Valleys soar into the earth
Women wait for men to complete them
Men wait for women to give them birth
Tomorrow is the answer to yesterdays question
Today is the paper on which eternity scrawls
Dreams come and go
The dreamer forever waits, smitten
The Seed
The seed that falls in the valley
Grows in the valley
With the wild flowers and the lush grasses
It shades the Shepard from the noonday sun
What does it know of mountains or desert lands
We are what we are the spawn of our world
A seed fell in a soul and rooted there
Flesh its good earth
Man its valley
It grew amid the dreamer’s fantasy
Sheltering the man from the burning light
Tending his needs yet asking
Sometimes a dream believes
Sometimes a thought deceives
And a man took on the burden of a world
What can a river do but flow
Its course is spoken like an ancient word
What can death do but live
The dreamer ran from his pain
But it ran with him
He accumulated kingdoms
But still his tears were rivers
He dressed in satin and rode the white stallion
Yet his harems were fruitless
The seed that falls in the valley falls in the valley
Yet the valley does not grow
It is not the way of man to grow his nature is to hold
It is not the nature of man to be filled
But by that which soars within him
Nurture and love the seed and day will dawn
There is No Journey
There is no journey
No one going no where
Merely a scramble for food
The death knell of drowning flesh grasping at life
Other than that there’s nothing
Just appearances whipped up by the commotion
A multi dimensional pendulum dancing about itself
Coming to believe that it’s the movement
When in reality it’s the anchored end
Sucked into it’s own hurricane
Rock solid unmoving always ness
Giving life to a whirling
And then somehow by default of illusion
The calm becomes the storm
Silent stillness disappears into itself
Leaving movement to chase circles into nowhere
It’s Like
It’s like
Threading a needle
With a rope
In the dark
Without fingers
Life could be so simple
Anyone could do it
If you could just find the needle
And that’s it
Mystery of mysteries
Where’s the stupid needle
Where am I
We Must Run Like Children
We must run like children
Through the tall grass
Wet still
From tears the night has cried
In longing for the dawn
And we must go naked
Unburdened by the pains that robe us
Simple
That the wind might taste us
And rustling through our thought buds
A trillion seeds
Gushing on the morning air
Onto a new day
Where Would Something Be
Where would something be
If not for somewhere
Without something
Somewhere would just be there
Empty waiting to be filled
When you’re nothing you’re nowhere
Which when you think of it
Is everywhere
From minute dot of something
To omnipresence
On the turn of a thought
Divine don’t you think
Oh my god don’t you see
Beauty is as it is
Without sight would a rose be beautiful
Would it be red
Would stars in the trillions fill the night sky
And the sun, would it soar to make the day
And day and night
What of them
Would there be separation
Dark and light
Or just one vast eternity
Without hearing would there be symphony
Bird’s song, car horn, idle chatter
The five o’ clock train that marks my night
A baby’s cry to draw the heart
The clutter of the day and the silence of the night
Or just stillness
Calm serene
All pervading
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