Geo Milev, a Bulgarian poet

1895-1925

Your skull took a pounding in the Great War, and you lost one eye...

And what was it they took you for? A poem, your September amounted to the 30 years you lived; the reason they took you for a “little questioning...”

It was another 30 years before they found your easily recognisable skull, and for how long did they look for you? Your wife searching prisons, hospitals, your daughter, running towards footsteps on the stairs...

And what was it you wrote that turned fear into rage?

O God

Support Thou the sacred work

Of coarsened black hands:

Pour Thou boldness into our pounding hearts:

Thou wishest no man a slave – 

One-eyed, loosing earthly vision, what was the last thing you saw? A fire man, trying to extinguish the flames of thought...

You simply vanished

You simply vanished

Disappeared into the forest

And I was left not being able

To see the wood for the trees

Foolish fire

Lights flicker and many heads turn

Turn away from the living

Turn towards foolish fire

Will-o'-the-wisp dancing intangibly

Above and beyond

But always within vision

And so it is the tangible recedes from many a sight  

And countless souls become ephemeral

Ghost-like mothers giving birth each day to emptiness

Pale faces looking into the fire

To make out familiar forms

Mouthing strange incantations to bring them forth …

But no

It will never be so

It will only be said ‘don’t go’

Foolish fire licks the edges of many an eye

Halts the journey in some remote cave

Ah if only it was known this is where evil is resides

And that there is a furnace that awaits each life

That if willingly entered will turn ash

Into the purist of gold

Allusions of Readiness

The root is rooted
The seed is sown
The fruit is borne
The acorn is no longer dreaming of the oak
It's time

Sleep has slept
Tears have been wept
The circle of longing has closed
Enfolding fulfilment
It's time

Painful questions have met their answers
Simply vanished into thin air
People walk full-bellied
Savouring the answers to their prayers
It's time

The wave to ride is no longer empty
Hundreds can be sited joyfully surfing its white crest
Rest has been liberated from the worn
Healing heaped  upon the torn
It's time

Time
The present moment has inhaled the past with all its learnings
And breathed out the bud of the future ----------------------------
Flowering
It's time

and so it comes

and so it comes

the start of every day like an arrow

piercing heavy eyes

overhung with sleep or sleeplessness

and so it comes

the strongest of light

illuminating every darkness of my place

and holding me clear of shadow

and so it comes

the time of fading

lessening blush diminishing strength

rose red cheeks more hollow

and so it comes

the most hallowed of times weaving

its way through all the others

in brightness in shade in seasons of remembrance

and forgetfulness