andrew149 Poetry (264)

To be…Or not to be?…
That …..Is the question,
But, is it really an answer we seek,
Or…Is it the right question?
For, all the right answers,
Are all around us…You see,
Which makes all of life,
A real life game of....Jeopardy….

This train left the depot in March ‘58,
Travelling extensively, trying not to be late.
Many destinations have I sought,
Ducking and diving, trying not to be caught,
Arrived at little known places on the way,
Dawdling there a little, deciding to stay,
Loved and lost,
Borne the cost,
And, with heart wracked with pain,
Re-boarded my train,
Loaded the coal, got up the steam,
Once more….
To sleep, perchance to dream….
To travel on….To love again…

(Spoken)
Love…..What mischief thou hast wrought,
Why dost thou feel like a dagger in mine breast?,
Cold…..Rusted….Old,
Did I not welcome you to mine bosom, mine life,
Yet….Thou hast returned, barely an apparition of what thou once were, to repay mine kindness with untold strife.
Linger not more foul ghost….Push hard,
Forsooth, thou hast hoist me by mine own petard,
Know thou that I loved thee, and truly ‘tis my dying wish,
That one last time, thou shoudst kiss me fully on mine lips,
(Then spoken behind mine own hand)
Then methinks, haha, that I shouldst rise once more to love again, your diabolic plans to foil, as to thine own eyes it looks like I hath shuffled off this mortal coil.
(Then spoken aloud)
Lest should’st I forget in the afterlife all that I cherish,
As I take mine last breath, and, by thine own hand….Perish!

THE END…….
(Don’t forget to bow before walking off, pick up all the decent looking flowers for resale tomorrow outside the door!)

For day after day, I've ploughed this field,
Albeit for nothing, a barren yield,
Covered forever by a black cloud,
Where green shoots of hope are not allowed,
In this field that no-one wants to know,
Where even weeds refuse to grow.
But, though I pull the plough by hand,
Up and down this barren land,
Raw blisters give pain,
For no obvious gain,
I believe.....I believe,
That's why, this land I'll never leave,
For, it's my reason to exist,
Me......The eternal optimist.

When you put a seashell to your ear,
What do YOU think there is to hear?
Some would say it’s just air rushing around,
Others, that it’s faraway waves making that sound.

Just try it for yourself ,
Hold one to your ear, gently in your hand,
Relax……Close your eyes….Imagine……
Between your toes, fine…..Soft, sand.

Feel….The soft breeze, gently tousling your hair,
Smell….The scent of salt and flowers in the air,
Bask……In the friendly warmth, the sun on your face……
You have now found your own special place!

As it was this time I ventured down memory lane,
As sometimes happens, you get stuck in a rut,
It takes you down an unwanted path, brings back some pain.
Even though you know not to go there because it’s sad,
It’s sometimes for a reason, not to punish you,
But just to show that the life you have now, really isn’t so bad.

I remember…..
You telling me, it was for my own good,
While I stood and sobbed quietly
Not wanting to move from where I stood,
Watching with tear streaked face,
Feeling like a tiny fraction of what I was before,
Looking desperately for a trace,
Among the shadows standing out in sharp relief,
In the flickering twilight of my mind,
As you lit the bonfire made from the tattered remains of my belief.
I knew it all once, with vision as clear as a bell,
Our whole life laid out,
I was now blind and lost in a place that I thought I knew so well.
How finally smiling, you leeched all faith from my mind,
While admonishing me like a child,
Telling me how you were only being cruel to be kind,
That you were no good for me, that you would only bring strife,
That I should turn around, never look back,
Walk away and have a good life.

Really, I should thank you for that release,
So…Thank you for my strength, my faith and self belief,
For my new life, re-invented, re-incarnated…….
Rebuilt now, piece by piece.

Well, Some things cannot just be kept quiet, and it seems my birthday was one of those things. Thankyou ever so much to all of you that thought of me on my day....Especially
Redex, Larry, and Orpheus, who wrote a smashing poem each,
and Scats, Schawalski, GG, Pilgim, SaS,CJ,Beautiful you, Bill, Ama, Niah and, last but not least QSF....for their kind wishes.
Some of you I have known for a long time and some not so long, still my thanks is the same to all of you for a very special gift...
Kindest regards...
Andrew.....XXX

An Ageless....Mystical Island...
That teems with fabled life...Floating in...
The deepest blue, ....In intensity,
Surrounded by thoughtfulness.....
...In immensity,
An Ocean... Flowing with kindness,
In...Mystery..... Timeless...
Rainbow'd Halo's,
round beautiful pinprick'd stars,..
...Being tied together by Faeries,
catching them when they fall,
flights of resplendent Phoenix.
Magical beings all.....
Constantly reborn,
in a maelstrom of Angel dust, and fireflies,
..All This Do I see...
...When I Look into Your Eyes.

I……..Am!
I……Feel you,
You….Are man,
Probing my depths,
Gliding in my wetness,
Taking my treasures, without asking,
Stealing,
I have tried to talk to you,
You……Answer,
With air bubbles, rising,
A primitive emotion!
You….Are not listening,
I could crush you,
I am immense,
I am your....Nemesis,
I…..Am Ocean!

For the first time in my life,
I knew what it was like to want,
To feel the unremitting pain,
To need, with my whole being,
To be so close,
Yes….. Really want,
With no hope of redemption, no chance of refrain.
You were dancing, framed in the doorway,
What you were thinking, I couldn’t for sure say,
My thoughts, Like your body movements,
Seeming uncontrolled, yet, fluid in the light,
Clearest sparkle in your eyes,
Speaking, in a way I couldn’t understand,
Yet paradoxically clear and bright,
I knew then, if, I had of a sudden been struck blind,
Instantly lost my sight,
If, You were the last thing I should ever see,
I would have been intent to endure,
Forever seeing your perfection
In my own corrupted and imperfect reflection,
In the perpetual darkness of my night.
Wretched, as I felt my gut wrench and twist,
Caressed by butterflies,
On that exquisite knot of hurt that is like a balled fist,
At peace in my torment,
The pitiful fragments of my soul almost together,
But Not……..Quite.

He called them, “Big G”, “JC” and “The Spook”,
So irreverently he spoke,
And he thought, “Holy Smoke”,
Was this year’s “In” joke,
So, when I heard the toll of the great church bell,
I thought it was for "HIM", and he was going straight to hell,
But, on his death bed,
He recounted and recanted,
All he could remember, that was in his head.
On the vicars bike, he had let down the tyres,
Had swopped round all the church piano wires,
So, all the congregation left too soon,
This alone, should have assured his doom!
Tis said, that God helps them that help themselves,
Only, I don’t think this meant,
The entire contents of the closed village shop shelves,
Though, he distributed it all to his friends, good lad,
Til all was gone, and only two tins for himself he had,
And the hundred pounds missing from the bank?
When, he mysteriously went there, the manager to thank,
For putting in the safe, his precious bag of holy water soaked sand,
That was when it happened, all done by sleight of hand.
But, to call "HIM" a common criminal,
Would not be right, not just at all,
Cos, he’s made it all alright now, by the book,
It’s all there in black and white if you take a look,
That he, who on his death bed, does repent his sins,
The kingdom of heaven gains, and everything in it wins.
Ahhhh….Clever til the last,
Took three days of confessing til he passed,
That was a year gone and still,
I think there is in that church, a ghost with a will,
Cos every Sunday, picked, are all the locks,
And, spirited away, is the entire contents,
Of that weeks collection box!

The pounding of the waves are in my heart,
The very sea itself is the lifeblood of my veins,
My body is of the sand on the shore,
The sun and moon are in my mind,
Stars sparkle as my eyes,
I am a child of the universe,
Of this earth and stardust made.