Tramp

Look at me, looking through the window, wondering what is on the other side
Stained glass from long-settled dust distorts the visions of my fantasies
I cannot see what my mind is calling for; I have been in this hole for too long
And my ability to reach out to the world of colour has been darkened grey

I see clouds gathering over the filthy roofs of old houses, crammed together
And joined by the filthy smoke rising up into the air, uniting in polluting 
Where the birds once flew, where new ideas gathered to be discussed
By the angels, those who were meant to care for us, but hey left, dirty

I have been drinking dirty water. Oh no, I have been drinking dirty water
And I have not bathed properly; my skin is dry, and my self-esteem is low
“Who can care for you when you can’t care for yourself?” he said
The laughing rat eating old cheese in the corner, sipping on stale wine

I have sores on my body, but I feel no pain; I am either immune to it
Or I have simply forgotten the sensation. Yes, I have probably forgotten
Self-imprisonment, exile, reclusiveness, call it what you want is nothing
More than retreating from the world, withdrawing from people, and life

Too tired to sleep, too hungry to eat, and too wary to trust my instincts
As my words slur from my toothless mouth, oh Lord, it must look bad
No longer living with envy, and completely used up all of my anger
I am void of love, I live to breathe, and I hope to watch the sun set

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The Lonely

Sitting in the dark, I listen to the soundless calls of the lonely
Thick clouds withhold the hope of the shining stars
For another night perhaps, another eye or another soul
Forsaken by love, feigning comfort in solitude, and sad

Dark the cries of the lonely, harsh and rasping in pain
Longing for love lost or love hidden, suffocating in despair
As barren as a vast desert, hot, relentless and unforgiving
That even the tears run dry, like the love that was meant to be

Cruel, wicked and evil, the forces that have caused the effect
Yet long are the scars, with wounds beneath never to heal
Branded onto the soul of the lonely, that forever so shall be
The ultimate sentence that ignores the constant pleas for mercy

The Flood

Where hides the wise man who’s every word uttered is entirely true
In the deepest and darkest cave of the thickest of forests perhaps
Or on an island yet discovered by another person who carries lies
Possibly walking through the dunes of the arid desert with his camel
He disguises himself well, like a chameleon on a branch of honesty

The tall and flamboyant cathedrals have been searched thoroughly
Not a corner of the temples and mosques remain unsighted
In search of he that has lived by what is preached daily, weekly
Yearly of for many centuries that they have indoctrinated
The very listeners who try to gather more, regardless of truth

Loud they shout, the readers of the books that dictate virtues
That are inherent in every new-born child, the nature of truth
Untouched and scarred by the teaching of this bizarre way of life
Where more is important, regardless of the cost to all affected
And those who are not, the innocent bystanders seeing the flood

Here I do

I open my chest, and I lay my heart on the table before you
You can see it beating, you can touch it, you could prod it if you wanted to
I open my head and I lay my brain upon the table before you
You can see it thinking, pondering, searching, wondering and creating
I open my being and I lay my soul on the table before you
Now you know me, you know who I am; I am naked before you

For I am a poet, and to write, this is what I need to do
Fearless in my purpose, focused on my intention of telling my story
As this is what I do, this is all that I do. I tell stories
Of how I see life, oh how I see you, my understanding of living today
And the questions I wish were answered someday
Probing, trying to find the answers to questions that nobody asks

I ask you not for compliments, although they are welcome
Just as I welcome criticism, which often I appreciate even more
I am grateful that you have read my thoughts, I truly am
To hopefully have made you think a while, without any need to agree
I claim not to be right, nor embrace a position superior
But I simply exercise my right to voice my opinion, which here I do

For All

Who fights in the name of peace, I ask you, soldiers of the confused
Bullets flying where birds once did, canon roars louder than thunder
Children fall, no, not in play, as their blood fills the streets of shame
As their widowed mothers plead to their gods to take them too

Beat not your child, you of narrow mind, your eyes tightly closed
Misunderstanding makes it not wrong, no, it makes you wrong
For you have failed your child, you have failed yourself, you failed
To learn what it is to find your child’s path, not one that you chose

Put down your bow and arrow, and let the beautiful deer run free
Eat the plant and the roots that grow below you and all around
For this is what you need, and no more, unless you are fed by greed
Which will fatten your body, confuse your mind and kill your soul

Take not that shining stone from the ground, it belongs there
You have no need for it, absolutely none, regardless of its sparkle
Leave it for the rivers’ waters to smooth, and let it find its path
Without your interference, let it be, just as it is meant to be

Free yourself of what you have been taught, indoctrinated for years
To discover who you really are, and what you can really do here
Find you purpose, find it. It is within you, your core beliefs
And practice them to the betterment of others, and for all

Never

Never shall you be noble until you see the equality in everyone
Never shall you know love until you can love unconditionally
Never shall you be kind until you have no expectations and demands
Never shall you be strong until you can care for a tiny baby
Never shall you be wealthy until you have forsaken greed
Never shall you be calm until you carry not the burden of anger
Never shall you be wise until you see the genius in everybody
Never shall you know beauty until you see the rising sun
Never shall you know gratitude until drinking from a desert well
Never shall you be tranquil until you can have forgiven everyone
Never shall you be truly loved until you relinquish your ego
Never shall you know peace until you have your peace within

Come Home To Me

“I shall lie here awake, until you come home” said the mother
At 4am, her irritated daughter, tainted by wine and smoke
Smudged mascara and stains on her blouse, and dirty shoes
For long had been the night, as many before, and more to come

“I shall wait for you, without anger, until I know you are safe”
She said calmly, before covering herself with her blankets
Falling asleep, in the warmth of her bed, the quiet of her home
Secure in the knowledge that her child is safely home in the nest

“I shall wait for you” I heard this quiet voice say “I shall wait for you”
I looked around to discover from whom this angelic sound arose
To find that just an open field of flowers, where white doves flew
Rejoicing in the luxury of freedom, a blue sky of endless heights

“Within yourself, I shall wait for you” she repeated, maternally
And I knew that it was me, the voice was mine, from within
Gently reminding me that she was there, and always had been
Waiting for me to come home, like my mother, waiting with love

“Who are you?” I called out, my voice flowing over the fields
Through the colours of the flowers, and the waving leaves
Over the trees where the white doves had settled, cooing at me
Inviting me to join them on their branch of unity, on the olive tree

“I am peace” she said, and I live within you, and I always have
And never shall I leave you, no matter what you do. Never
Come home to me, open my door, and let me flow like a river
Of love through this field of flowers, and you shall be free

 

 

The Note

To get to the heart of the story, one must go back to the beginning
To the simple musical note hummed by the composer
Before he composed a majestic symphony of  thousand sounds
To be played by the mightiest of orchestras, wildly delighted
Never shall the note be lost, and never shall it be alone
For it will dance in harmony with its peers, creating beauty
In music so bold and simple in its complexity
That never shall it end, for never shall it want to
As the hairs of the bows whither and the strings of the woods break
The brass shudder by the might of the sounds
And the skins tremble with every beat of the muscled drummer
On they play, the humble messengers, the musicians
The artistes of sound, paintings pictures captured only by the wise
On their minds so deep that eternity might find its home there

Play on, my friends, as we drink late into the night
Excelling at camouflaging ourselves from reality, the truth of life
Where the future may be too hideous to envisage
Which is why the past must be known, the core of the being
The reasons, the causes of the effects, the answers to this question
Of who we are, of why we are, where we come from, to where we go
If I were a huge statue, I would prefer to stand on a deserted island
Where nobody could see me, stare at me, ask useless questions
And I could peer over the waters until I understood why
The sun rose in the morning and then set without fail
To be followed by the moon and the stars, gracing us
Regardless of how small we are, how small I am
But a very important part of the puzzle, the grand scale
Like the first note hummed by the great composer, the first note

Write A Letter

If I were to write a letter to myself, I wonder what I would say
For there is much to discuss, to reflect, to realize, and to let go of
So many questions to answer, so many answers without reason
Faces and places that need to be transferred from my memory
Into diction, that I could come to grips with, and understand
The reality of what has happened, the consequences of my life
Where I have gone to, what I have done, whom I have met
Decisions I have made, and any kind of difference I have ensured

How complex this be, when an ocean of ideas rush eagerly at me 
Like a furious tsunami, frivolous of the damage that it shall cause
As each idea attempts to let itself free from this dark bank of memory
Where so much has been boxed in the hope of blanket forgetfulness
Sad tales of loves lost and lost love, happy smiles of joyful days
Angry thoughts like violent demons, killing to expose themselves free
Away past the gentle and compassionate ideas of love and peace
Where I have tried to be, as I matured, or, at least I thought so

I am sorry, I think I would say, to myself, I am truly sorry. Yes, I would
For my arrogance, my ultimate stupidity in believing that I was right
When I knew so little, had seen places so few, and knew not real love
In its truest form, the unconditional kind, the all-encompassing one
I learnt this as a parent, yes, only then, to love completely and utterly
For my reward is to see her thrive in health and happiness, nothing more
Because in return I have been loved like no other has ever loved me
Regardless of the growing pains a young daughter inflicts on a father

Oh, my mind wonders from pillar to post, like an ant amongst its army
Weaving and swerving and climbing over each other seemingly aimlessly
The more I think of the letter, the more emotions show their heads
Some laughing, some smiling, some crying, and some cursing loudly
Perhaps it would be safer to close the vault doors and leave them there
I don’t know, perhaps it would be.  But where would the fun be in that
If, after all of these years, I am afraid of myself, of my own thoughts
Then could there be any purpose at all, when there is life to live

Alone He Stands

Alone he stands, his powerful feet connecting him to this earth, grounded
A thousand eyes he sees, staring at him, aimlessly, like gazing into the sun
Emotionless faces, unable to see him through their clouds of confusion
Separated from the ability to be, to live in the moment, being as it is meant to be

Quietly he sits, under the tree that shades him with cool wisdom of solitude and insight
As they rush past, trying to forget about yesterday and catch tomorrow
Of disguised visions and dreams that they are certain will ensure endless happiness
Targets to be met, goals to be reached, friends and family to be impressed

Deep he breathes this beautiful air, filling his body with the most vital need of all
And he listens to his mind calm, ignoring the mass of activity before him, warring ants
Running, rushing, fighting and killing to get there first, to beat the other, to win
Without ever understanding the true cost, oblivious to the obvious interdependence