Spectacle

This is not the time to come clean
This is not the time to be seen

Come out of the shadows
Lift up your eyes to the hills
A helper comes

This is the time of clouds
The opening of heaven's gate

People are dying
Slower than a fading star

People are living
Faster than a speeding bullet

The Letter A – a

What can I say about an A?
A – star, A – list
Alpha male
High flying, soaring
Looking down from above is A
Amazing, adored, appreciated
All inclusive
Always dependable
An A courts
Go-getting action
Jet-setting attention
Like no other
Awake, awake
Ask anything you like
Of an A
First of 26
Announcing the dawn
Believe me
Anything is possible
At the beginning
Of a list
Representing sound

After long night, up-risen is the morn

After shock, silence
After silence, speech

After speech, sleep
After sleep, seek

After long night
Up-risen is the morn

Mourn dark days
Up-rise the tide of dawn

The Letter D – d

The letter D has it hard
The black sheep of the alphabet fold
A sound like no other to sum up
Life's devastations
Man's deviations
Woman's depressions
My desperate search
No other letter does it like a d
Don't doubt
It'll drag you down
Disaster creeping like the devil himself
Through every open door
Despair, disparage – too many dis' to mention
Too much deception to know a lie
Too much darkness to be able to see
Driven to distraction
So much death, departure
Damage done

The Ravine of Kidron

Strength from above
Pressed on every side
Life blood squeezed out
One drop of a bloody
Tide to flow

One betraying
As footsteps fill the air
Torches, lanterns, weapons
To extinguish
The world’s light

Taken down with a kiss
A sword’s flash
A severed ear
And one final miracle
In the garden of your circle
Breaking

summer of my life

i recall the sand - the cliffs - the strong tide
the rocks - the walks - the fire in the year of drought
walking quickly through thick smoke
so as not to get licked - hot tongues
panting for water and for love

the descent to autumn is not as i thought
a movement of leaves - of winds - of the sober colours of dying
who calls - who sees - who knows what winter will be
spring will not come again
and summer is gone

Too Much

The bird's call to each other
The branches are bare
The frosty night governs the land
The birds twitter and then there is silence

The ancient poet said, 'let silence take you to the core of life'
What there can be melted down and remade?
Lies liquised and traded in
Love solidified and given out with the instruction:
'You must end the search for happiness'

Too much to stop
Too much to want to see the signpost pointing away from home
Too much water under the bridge not to be carried along by the past's dark tide
Too much agony, too much destiny
Too much talk to hear the still small centre that hides the reactor that locates the power
...

Centre of the earth
Centre of my soul

There is too much to know