Woman In The Desert

On the road to Jericho
Where the desert’s mostly stone
The desert wife was walking
And met the coach alone

I watched her distant figure
Of Iron in the sun
Walking to the roadside
A strange Samaritan

She looked so old and wrinkled
So thin and so withdrawn
This woman of the desert
Shoeless and forlorn

Her distant figure walking
From horizon far away
To meet the coach from David’s town
Upon that arid day

Age was not her enemy
Survival’s her concern
The mid-day sun was stoking hot
The desert seemed to burn

The coach stopped upon the road
Halfway up a hill
I saw no-one get on or off
Perhaps she stays there still

When the coach got into Jericho
I went to walk around
Sitting in a square somewhere
Were the Arabs all around

With eyes like raisins burning
In flames of Joshua’s fire
Their frames were hard and leathery
Like leather tied with wire

Their guns were at their shoulders
Of love they seemed bereft
I went back to the station
I got the coach and left

March 31

At The “Last Supper”

At the “Last Supper” an apostle stated thinking of his girl.
He saw her walking in Isaiah’s paradise.
“But where will I be?” he wondered to himself,
As he drank the wine and cried.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle started thinking of home.
He saw it, in flower, from a high mountain.
But how did he get there he wondered to himself,
As he drank the wine and fell dreamily quiet.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle started watching the sunset.
He saw it emptying through a window.
Then he seemed to forget what city he was in,
As he drank the wine and heard a bird singing.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle thought of his fishing boat.
He saw it floating in the darkest of all lakes
“But who is on board to sail it?” he thought.
As he sipped the wine his hands wanted rudders.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle thought of his children.
He saw them growing up in a land far away.
Will they ever know how much I love them?
And he sipped the wine and leaned against another.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle thought of his mother.
He remembered how she had grown into an old woman.
He got up and walked to the window
Sipping wine and watching the passers-by

At the “Last Supper” an apostle thought of the soldiers.
He felt disgust that the world could be so violent.
He hoped he would never be arrested.
As he sipped the wine and stared into space.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle had a song in his head,
It was a song that was as old as Moses,
There was a line he always thought beautiful,
As he sipped the wine he wanted to start dancing.

At the “last Supper” an apostle just sat staring,
Staring at the face of Jesus.
Looking on with awesome fascination,
As he sipped the wine in quiet contemplation.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle was wondering;
He was wondering what had happened to the collection
He wondered who was the greatest amongst them,
As he sipped the wine he began feeling depressed

At the “Last Supper” an apostle could not stop thinking
About his death and felt frozen with apprehension.
He wondered how Jesus could be so composed,
As he sipped the wine he stared at the water-bowl.

At the “Last Supper” an apostle started thinking
About the games they played as children;
He reminisced about it with a colleague
Then he sipped the wine as a door was closing.

Then Jesus walked over to the window,
He stared down at the street with eyes painful
At the apostle hurrying in the darkness,
Then at the wine spilled out across the table.

March 27 1997

Emotion and Reason as Light Infantry

I was reading a novel when page 66 disappeared. It reappeared 9 years later as page 77 in a book about childbirth. I was watching a tube train pass into the tunnel at Aldgate when it too disappeared. It was later seen in a photograph of the 1st world war where it had crashed and had come to a standstill in the trenches.
How did emotion take shape as a beautiful woman who disappears when the whole night sky and the whole starry universe flickered and reset the pastures of time as a marshland of broken eggs from where she reappeared as a Hollywood starlet in a black and white film.
Emotion took the form of a racing car with a female body. Now the female body is crashing down the mountainside on a sledge into the forest and out and over the cliff into the sea. Litter pickers on the beach find her as a centrefold and blowing onto the pages make her come to life as a flame and after shaking their hands she disappears into heaven.
Reason like a skeleton is running around an electric circuit. Do not throw the switch. Reason like a fossil has woken up to discover itself inside a falling tower crashing onto a modern battlefield and as it falls and disintegrates it turns into a swarm of wasps.

The Zoo at the End of Time.

There was a zoo at the end of time. Millions of hungry humans began to encircle it. Breaching the gates they got inside and began to slaughter and eat. A huge swarm of butterflies emerged into the sky and attacked the humans and pushed them back out of the zoo. Out of holes in the ground came a sea of rats that bit and killed many of the humans. The survivors trying to escape ran into a great field of spiders webs and were all trapped there and were eaten by the spiders. A group of small children walked away crying uncontrollably. Birds brought them seeds to eat.

The plot for an animated film about extinction maybe.

The name of love

The name of love was a lost name
Lost on the wave of the ocean
The name of love was everlasting
Burning like fire in a mist-cloud
You breathed a breath of life
And the cloud blew away
I looked into your eyes
And love came my way

The name of love was energy
Covered by clouds of a dark time
The name of love inspired dreams
That came to life like wings of fire
Your tears filled the countryside like rain
Your laughter filled the woodlands like the sun
All I know is I had no pain
That loving you was love and love was fun

You smiled your smile
You moved your moves
You danced your dance
In your little shoes

Though my heart was broken in two
It began to mend when I met you

The name of love

When I met you

The name of love

Look back through the smoke of battle

Look back through the smoke of battle
For the life that you once knew
Through the fire, the firearms rattle
For the place where you once grew
Were you then such happy folk
Was it a happy life?
Was it worth the sacrifice?
Now it’s gone up in smoke

The smoke of all those broken hearts
The fire of troubled lives
Where are those memories to find?
Buried in the dust of time

Look back through the smoke of war
Then just close the door

The coffee cup is a law

Look at the obvious, don’t play detective. The dream of the seashore is not the seashore, it is a dream.
I saw a policeman chasing after comic book characters thinking he had found reality. He couldn’t understand that no matter how many times he arrested the comic book characters the comic book freed them and the comic book story continued.
The world is covered in skin, if you peel away the skin the prison is turned upside down and shaken and everything falls out.
The obvious balloon can confuse people. They do not realise that the breath inside it is their own breath and if the balloon is eternal they being sentient will lose all of their breath to the balloon and the balloon will float away to join another galaxy.
Look at the obvious; reduce the world around you to a line drawing. Chase away the crows as they come to pick the meat from the bones, suddenly the bones are gone. Colours and shapes fall out of the sky and the pigment explodes.
It was not obvious until taking hold of your girl and kissing her a teacher came and scrubbed the chalkboard clean.
It was not obvious; you pour the cream of the law into your coffee cup. All is law, there are laws within laws. There are laws of a different making for a different purpose. The coffee cup is a law.
The bad heart is a law. The good heart is a law. They both disagree. The bad heart begins to cry: it is a law. The good heart begins to laugh: it is a law. Another law tries to decide between them. Now it becomes both the bad and the good law. Who can know where or how love lives in these good and bad laws? Love conquers all.
Look for the obvious, look for love.

My Travels around Rock Bottom

Sometimes I hit rock bottom, it is the deep part of the ocean. The water in the ocean is removed by a dream, what the dream commands happens in the many scenarios of the heart, it is not real. Rock bottom is imposed upon me by other people. Other people seem to guide me through a landscape of spider’s webs. They are spiders trying to herd their prey into deep water canyons. I must put the ocean back and swim to the surface. As I rise upon the surface I surface into an ancient Egyptian city centre. There are temples, palaces, pyramids and fragments of the sun are on sale in the market. There are men painting the image of a Pharaoh on the walls. Groups of wealthy families stop and stare at me and then become stone.

I seek not and I am left alone

I seek not and I am left alone
I let go because I am sad
The soul is in the blood and is made of self
Without a mother, the baby dies

Learn about what nature says to God through nature
The design of nature is the foundation of mankind
In the void, I hang like an autumn leaf
On this branch of Gods memory

If the best that everyone has to offer was allowed
Goodness like a blanket of snow would cover the earth

The scar

It came to me, my unreasonable fear
that I have been burdened with for many a year.
My fear of falling, the small white scar:
My fear of loving, why I’ve kept afar
The times I’ve started awake or couldn’t fall
asleep, to rest, to wake refreshed, loved. That’s not all
that scar I bear, I’ve born for many a year
it seems to have been there before I was here.
A small white scar upon my side
could it be the reason for why I’ve cried
like a waterfall for those psychological years of being alone
or the nightmares where my tongue turned to stone
and if I fell I would die and live again
born up from the ground
then repaired and the clock set to begin its cycle
ticking away in the silent darkness while Michael
sleeps as a tiny baby in the windowsill
and wakes and falls and falls and falls until
the clock stops in the murderous night
and the baby Michael bleeds light
the glass is removed from the shaking flesh
by strangers, fearful strangers who couldn’t care less.
But I fall into the street through a windowpane
and from a babies unconscious mind into an injured sleep did it drain
all information from my brain
of love, care, future, security, wiped out by the pain.
Then through the years of darkness hidden
the babies hurt, its cries hidden
its falling in and out of love
its falling down, its looking up alone
its jumping feet upon the imaginary ground
its crying, its forgetting, its knowledge woven with the sound
of breaking glass and falling and crashing down.
A fall that haunts and hurts and comes around
like the flash of a dragons tail upon my head
to startle me awake from the old lumpy bed
And who picked me up, who loved me on that day
and why did the shadow of the accident never go away?
When the war was five years over, peace was declared
Armistice came and went and people dared
to breathe the air freely and forget very nearly
that life resumed its path into the cold grey light

I have a small white scar caused by falling out of a window as a baby
%d bloggers like this: