The Ancient World
The grass green and lush
Blue streams trickle gently
The hills green
The sky azure
Sun shares its light and joy
The mask of Ancient World
In the caves
Trolls dens
Ghouls
Danger
But sweet hope
of finding treasure
Like puddles
of red, green, gold.
Slide the key
into the slot
Cruel memories
I forgot
Inside I slowly
gently rot
Slide the key
into the slot.
So long a silence
stains my fears
I remember to forget
all my years
Try to cry
no more tears
So long a silence
stains my fears.
Shadows follow
where I lead
In your blood
I see the greed
On your flesh
I’ll slowly feed
Shadows follow
where I lead.
Will it be
for me to see?
Is it you
who are free?
I was going to try
but then I knew why.
To continue on would be a lie.
Knowing the answer before you start
numbs, kills, defeats the heart.
It wasn’t hard
for me to become
cold and strong.
Passageways dark and eerie
Under the mountain they lie.
Lakes of deep dark icy black waters.
Small islands of crude cold jagged rock.
So deadly, yet so alluring.
Attracting the brave
and the fool.
Mercilessly drawing them inward
and then in dark corners
slowly pushing a dagger
into their thoughts.
The evil watches as the idiot dies
in the cold and lonesome darkness.
Skeletons perhaps never found
in the sorrow and shame of greed.
Yet gold there is
and riches there are.
The Dark Lords know
that man cannot resist.
He will pursue it until his death.
Other cunning creatures
in their evil ways
are rewarded by the Lords.
They get no joy of it.
They sit in dark damp corners
and wallow over their treasure.
Afraid of the light of truth.
They will never know the pleasure
of soft green grass
and the warmth of the sun.
Evil little creatures are they
with cunning long fingers.
Many have found their way
round mans throat.
Many have felt the body
struggle and drop
limp within the deadly clasp.
Those evil little creatures
that place the blades of daggers
into the stomachs of men.
Watching them fall
weak with pain and shock.
Those horrid little cowardice creatures!
I page through
images of my friend’s life
Of his childhood
and his sweethearts
They remind me of mine.
These are the last hours
I have with him for many years
I see him with his friends
and I remember many
unsober moments we spent
sharing everything we had
We were one.
What hurt him
hurt me
I could help as he could
Neither of us
had the magic wand
to make the problems disappear.
Those pages with the images
Snatches of life
and on the last page
he put my offering in
This last hour before he dies
from my life
The most wonderful image
I ever caught in Black & White
Just Three Friends.
Faces on the lace.
Masks for the outside world.
Change
eyes and nose,
mustache.
It’s all so simple
all so difficult
when I can’t control my small world.
That’s everything to me
when they have control
of all I hold dear
and their hold is pain.
It rips through my heart
my eyes seep salt water.
My mouth wrinkles
crinkles in disgust.
Frustration in deep hidden corners.
Bursts in pain
chokes in crying.
All so complicated.
All so simple
when the lace of lies
is drawn back.
My calm
tender heart exposed
for so few to see
for so few to see
when it crinkles and jerks
in hurt
in angry sobs of crying.
For yes,
I do love
and I do hate
and I do live
unhappily
in my sorrowful fate.
Silence in the morn.
A white silent morn.
A world frozen, watching
as the mist moves by.
Quite march
over, around.
Within are hidden houses and trees.
Dancing, dodging as the wind stirs.
Rushing nowhere.
Take me away from the city
Away from the noise and the choking air.
Where people are ruled by time
and time is cruel to many.
Whisk me away
swift and silent.
To where time is endless
and peace prevails.
*
A spear at my side
to feed and keep me.
A hollow in a hill
to hide me from the wrath of God.
Give me a world where I am alone
to ponder and live as I will.
*
in the morning’s soft wet dew
on green grass does hang.
Gold
Silver
Green
and Red
Like lights of the tiny pixies.
The sweet smell of a fresh
smooth breeze.
The hills watch me live
and they smile.
Green grass.
Soft warm rains.
Food for body and soul.
*
A small glassy stream
rushing on it’s way.
Tinkling.
Laughing at it’s song of joy.
Giggling as I dip my feet.
*
A willow too
sighing in sorrow.
Yet happy to offer shade.
Emerald green and brown.
His arms move slowly.
His feet rest in the stream.
He has no rush
the day is long.
*
Grey, black
silver shivers.
They make my willow cower.
Make grass run in wild
frightened herds.
Even this
from my hollow I see.
*
Such anger has the forewind.
The storm’s messenger
Yet this too has it’s rewards.
*
Calm prevails.
All is at peace.
The scent of rain is tender
and beautiful.
Declaring peace.
*
In the night
I sing sweet melodies.
The stars listen and twinkle.
Happy.
Sometimes the queen of the night.
Her silver face does show.
Listening too.
She is often pleased.
Here I will live for all eternity
in the things provided.
I watch.
I see.
Catechumen sitting on the stairs
strange and distant.
Confusion between his cradling hands
his head the babe.
The mind cradled in the child.
*
He’s sitting on the answer.
The stairs.
Eternal
Ephemeral
Up
Down
Spiraling no end
Each ending abruptly
a scale on a snake
Each step a piece of life
and so it goes on.
A feather floats
Silently
Haphazardly
Creating it’s own geometry in the air
It’s own geometry waltzing.
Distant music.
Shallow hum of people.
Laughter, shouts
Distant
All texture the air quite pleasantly.
*
And still he thinks.
This catechumen
still pondering.
Me watching
like a teacher – no
a god.
Distant, quiet
respectful of his wandering.
Me, dressed in black.
Typical of a god of war,
no – destruction.
Leaning against a wall
drink in one hand,
cigarette in the other.
Simply observing.
*
I could give him the answer
but that would be too
convenient.
Too awesomely devastating.
I have had many masters:
music
television
time.
All sour and sweet
I have been a loyal disciple
to The God
to a god
to all gods
and still I find only one.
Only one to be true to.
*
I remain a disciple to myself.
Prays for peace and love
Yearns for bloodshed and hate
*
Forever wanting the fight
as water forever wants the sea.
Trusts no-one but his own.
He walks through alone.
Wearing masks
behind which no-one will know
who lies.
*
A lost love did this to me.
I have become twisted and arrogant
I trust nothing and no-one.
Don’t trust even my own eyes.
Not even my own feelings.
I will feel something, anything
enjoy it for a moment
then cooly drown it
like I would a baby in a bath.
*
I live only for myself.
Enjoy.
Holding her life in front of you.
Against you.
Slow dancing when the notes hit are so perfect in mood.
In feeling.
So perfectly in tune with you,
her and your mind and souls.
Feelings.
The warmth of mind.
Warmth of soul just between us.
Her body moves.
Warm, solid, independant.
Unlike the dreams and wishes of a slow dance
that tease me from time to time.
The fragile hand flat against me.
Her soft face
long hair
The night sky
the stars.
Music.
On…please yes!
Carry on…