branksome Poetry (46)

I draw the drapes
Shut out the night
Now the day has gone
And another battle won
What is this fight
It’s the machine which
Ever assails the itch
Which is to create
There is no time
When fatigue defeats
There is no quiet
As sirens split the night
Or dogs howl
In bright moonlight
Take heed for sleep
that little taste of death
Another day will dawn
And bear the tide
Of repeated dreams

Questions ever more questions
Curiosity never to be broached
I raised my mind and thought
I touched
the skirt of the goddess
It lasted but a moment
and yet I saw
The countless eons of times agone
And the vista of those yet to come
I heard her words,
“Man you are never forgotten
as you agreed to forget
it’s the price of experience
by which ever enriched
you will become
to know me”.

Chauvinistic Memoirs


He sat musing over his sherry
Thoughts of old times rallied
he set pen to to paper to write
and poured another glass

It was now years ago
as in another life
Happy in new found wealth
A beautiful woman by his side
Ever ready to please
and obedient withal
She was a strange one
delighted to evoke
In different ways
A sure reponse
To engage

Soon with reddened
and striped cheeks
would bend over
In the contrite pose
so irresistible as she
knew it would be.

Such memories
He put down his pen
As the new version
presented herself
and sat on his lap.

Greetings professor how goes it?

Like every thing it just goes on
How it is all the same and no fun
In the midst of life we are undone
Robots in the thrall of machines

Sir, it is not easy being human

Aye and there’s the blow
When you realise how
You made it so
Long ago

We are not yet dead
You just need a good feed
Some things feel real

Aye, let us have good red meat
Vegetararians full of wind replete
May hence pollute the earth
In self righteous relief discreet
But we continue in atavistic glee
eating meat as in other time lines
I have eaten thee.

It was a cloudy dull day
so typical of the area
I was depressed and bored
I knew she should would say
You do not die of boredom
I smoked my last cigarette
watched the empty packet
As it floated in the stream
I was just writing a sonnet
She came as if the sun shone
As she sat bright and smiling
I fumbled with my sonnet
She said shut up and kiss me
I was no longer depressed
There were many sonnets
But one stayed unfinished

The way of the heart is not to be denied
Like the energy from the Solar Logos
Which flows thoughout the Cosmos
You cannot ever from this hide
It will pursue you through eternity
In your ignorance you can ignore it
And in your folly you will do so
The way of being human is not easy
But eons ago you volunteered
Not to worry you are guided
You are helped in many ways
So that however perverse
This shines on you and may thwart
And forever strive to direct you away
From the negative powers
Of greed and excesses
And if at the close of this adventure
You sink in the depths of hell
This power wil be at your call
It is your choice

Football gives joy and satisfaction
in the winning
So depressed in the losing
Cheer up my friends
it is only game
To say there is more to life than football
might sound like blasphemy to some.
Like children we play games
and watch games
It is an endless show time
with elements of chance
The game is uncertain
so is Life
Only Death is certain
“*Yet there is no death
you could not be more dead
than you are now”.
Passed on you will not care
about your remains
so gladly bereft.
In memoriam there is comfort
Visiting tombs with flowers
Keeeping the grave fresh and neat
Or ashes on the mantelpiece
They know you remember
Rejoice in their freedom
They do not forget you
As you feel the loss.

It has been a good day
Now to retire to bed
Engage that mysterious state
Sleep that little taste of death
As night makes the city
A temporary morgue
For wandering souls
Some will not awake,alas
The rest refreshed restored
Resume life once more
There is comfort in routine
But it also numbs the mind
Without being curious
And to search for Truth
We are like the machines
Which have us in their thrall

I watched the TV scene of mourning
And saw a myriad photos of the dead
All from the twin towers collapsing
I felt sad for those who have lost
But at the same time angry the most
At the thought of it all being designed
Totally engineered to look like a fire
Aeroplanes sacrificed in a lame deceit
All beautifully arranged by experts
They will not have remembered
These things you’re made to forget.

And so the world goes on blithely
Brainwashed into accepting blindly
That it had to be terrorists
But it was coldly planned
You would never think it
It is just too hard to bear
Many can see and know
But Keep silent in fear

How old must I be to not miss
The company and embrace of She
Faithful to the end I never strayed
But not for the want of dreaming.

Doing a woman’s work as I live alone
I learn of the sacrifices made
The drudgery willingly endured
Nare a thought of getting a maid

I made her last days comfortable at home,
And when she was gone I did not weep
Perhaps consoled in her freedom
Forever missed
How long to not feel the loss?

It is a day of strong winds
Debris streams down the street
People lean into the wind
Umberellas invert and rip
At home the storm moans and shrieks
Trees are down on the roads
Smashing houses and cars

And so we curse the weather
Take care my friends
The agencies of weather
They do the best they can
Our power to them is flawed
by cursing
We have forgotten them
But they are conscious beings
Pure eddies of great power
Bless them in the endeavour
To maintain the balance


A man was driving in a great storm
Psychic he could see the storm Lord
Astonished he said “I can see you”
He then heard “Then feel me”
The car was lifted and bounced about
The occupants were shaken and scared
Attitudes to weather changed for ever

Who said the angels have no sense of humour

There are no words to describe
The sacrifices made for you
The Earth Logos for eons of time
Those from outside sacrifice bliss
So that you may live another day
There are things ongoing
Stabilising the tectonic plates
Limiting storms and earthquakes
All in sacrifice by the few
The truth is known and spread
But is seldom heeded in dread
It is hard because it is strange
The majority is enslaved
In dogmas and lies
Great power is for asking
If you know how to ask
The power is not wasted
It will be used in full
Taking longer,much longer
That is the pity of it all
Let it be sooner.