I have roamed this shaking Earth / but for a little while, / walked upon her skin / like scattered dust
THE POETS COVEN
I bring no words, / no jewels of the profound / or holy water / of sacred thoughts
THE GARDEN OF POETS or THE POET’S COVEN (Pt…
I have come back / to the sanctuary of heart’s travels, / to repose in the company of gentle poets / and hear the revelations of silent ref…
……of a simple poet / wearing a tattered coat of words / held by flimsy threads……
STEP BY STEP
A man must answer / to himself
MY INK IS THIN…(a valentine offering of sor…
my quill is blunt, / dipped in holy water / from heart’s inkwell
WHO IS IT?
Who is it / that calls my name / in the whisper of the wind, / writes my name / across the sky / in wispy ink?
A MODERN PRAYER???
Oh Multinationals / who art in glass towers, / hollow be your image
In Time’s distant mist / I was born / a supple thought, / a floating / whimsical spectre,
WHAT CAN I SAY?
What brightness can I add / to the stars / that shine in my life, / my own / but a sparkle / in the scheme of things?
WATERFALL OF FRIENDS
I watch a waterfall of hieroglyphic rainbows / gracefully dive off jagged edge
THE ECHO OF EMPTINESS
I see you / gorge / on generous banquets, / python like, / swallowing whole
EXTRACT FROM A TIME TRAVELLER’S DIARY
Your seductive songs / awaken / the mandalas of mind, / dreaming / within dreams,
WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
I was eight years old / when my world first changed colour / with a bullet in the brain of Camelot / and a Machiavellian world of grinning…
THE WAY OF THE MOON
I love the way / of the moon, / how she flickers / shadows / on my walls, / streams / her silver paint / through my …
ALL IN ONE LIFE
it takes heart / to see / love / in an agitated world,
THE WANDERING THOUGHTS OF A SMALL MAN.
I sit / in my enclosed garden / watching / the seasons pass by
It’s cold tonight, / chilling to aching bones, / marrow / frozen in time.
THE BONES OF POETRY (part 1)
I paint with words, / watch the ink / meander,
THIS IS MY LIFE
In truth I am a young soul, / infant, / trying to learn the way of this world
MOONDANCE 6….final phase
last of the moondance.
GIVE AND TAKE?
I open my chest / to show true heart / and you devour / each beat / voraciously.
POET’S LAST SITTING
he was found there / morning after / sitting naked
QUIETLY I SIT.
quietly I sit / listening to the wind
A POEM’S ESSENCE
if every poem ever written / since the first scratch
THE MANY PARTS OF YOU
It / starts with a thought / that brushes my face / and radiates the body through
CARVED TABLE OF DREAMS
so sit yourselves down / at this carved table / of dreams / and share in the fruits / laden in between
shadowy thoughts / scratching / my skin thin door,
THE GIFT OF GIVING
A gift, / wrapped / in feathers and tulle, / bound / with rainbow ribbons
LOST LAST THOUGHTS….(a repost for Easter)
Destiny strikes, / lays my weary body / upon splintered crucifix
HEART AND SWORD
I balance / on thin transparent line, / a thread of life / that we all walk,
How still the air is, / expectant, / holding breath / for a sigh of relief
I stand enveloped / in the stillness of pre-dawn cover, / a world of vague whispers
I need to shelve my needs, / slot them between the other books / of dreams and wishes
IT ENDS WITHIN!
I am a condemned man; / condemned by religious bigotry, / condemned by political agendas, / condemned by social class, / condemned by racia…
YES, I NO
Do you believe in a god, / in a soul, / in a life after death? / My short answer is NO, / my long answer is YES.
Look behind the doors and under beds, / put the stuffed dolls in cupboards and cover the clown / before you lay your head to slumber,
I am / an agnostic gnostic / with zen principles.
HAVE YOU EVER
Have you ever danced naked / on the tip of a flame / or skipped on ripples / of a butterfly’s wake
THE EVOLUTION OF A WRITER
breathing in the vowels / and exhaling the words that sleep within, / living in the sound / that is the truth of myself,
liberating the tattered pages / between leathered layers of denial / protecting paper thoughts / scrawled with Time’s fading ink;
WHAT MORE COULD I ASK FOR (what RB means to me)
my chest is filled with pulsating blood, / my skin crawls with the thoughts / of holographic emotions.
… things I think
sometimes I think I’m an ordinary guy
I KNOW WHERE I’D RATHER BE!
What is this music / that stirs the loins and soul, / that opens the mind / to visions / beyond mortal dreams?;
Graceful grays / and time honored wrinkles, / these are the sparkles in my eyes / when I look upon her face.
winged feet / to glide over unsteady ground
BETTER TO HAVE LOVED AND LOST…
… his thoughts pour with distilled discontentment into the chasms below / giving rise to tripping fingers of ocean longing, / reachin…
DESIRE IS A FIRE THAT BURNS SLOW
My love is a mysterious sigh, / an ancient breath / seeking the whispering of silent spaces.
These are the stories I wish to tell my children, / with campfire glow flickering in my eyes / and clear rivers flowing through my veins
THESE WRINKLES ARE MINE
I watch the rain through smoke filled eyes, / attracting thoughtful moonlight sighs,
SEQUINTA AND ERAMETIN
We flow in the sap of trees, / light up the celestial grandeur / when a seeker’s gaze looks beyond mortal resignation