City Walk

I can walk sentimental streets

Without being ashamed of my smile,

Yes, I can walk with pride

At my being, at my being alive.

The marriage of the breeze with

The perfumes of flowers growing

In between concrete scars

And the gasoline from passing cars

Lingers thoughtlessly in the air.

Still I look down at my steps

Going forward, never missing a beat.

I am in the city now, and it is full,

It never feels constrictive or contrived

No matter how many ads plague the skyline

They are just part of the feature.

My sentimental street is another river to the sea,

A free and open society.


*Feedback would be cool!


Little Dark Thing

What can you hide behind sleepless eyes?

Well, look upon the darkness of the world

And know what lies there.

Then, when it is locked and caught in shadows,

You observe the things that refuse to be seen

And understand them.


Would you improvise with me?

It could be a simple symphony,

A cacophony of stars in melted blue,

Swirling winds and moonlight too,

Shades of night, a pallet in our hands

Complex melodies like falling grains of sand,

Thick like smoke, will you hold this tune?

That weaves around the lonely room,

Fingers deep in a cascade of champagne

Waterfall, bright, diamond cold rain.

Would your piano play classical?

Or would it fall into the fantastical,

On its knees into a dream that we both feel

One we could keep but never make real,

Is that not what music is for?

An ephemeral, erotic, opening of the dawn,

Why the feminine notes float I do not know

But I know they cause no ripples to grow

And spread over your silver trading rivers,

Ships, golden as a waltz, send shivers

Down the wire spines that move as we move

In this inferno, this ballroom of truth.

I hold the notion that it is quiet now,

Listen with me, silently, it is quiet now.

Winter’s Spirit

Four winters I have seen

With the power to cloud the summers green,

When roses were lost under snow and frost

Like crystal or starlight, white in a dream.


A pool around a bright blue eye

Or a jewel hidden in the white of the sky,

A fountain stands untouched by the hands

Of Winter, unable to rest, unable to die.


She approaches, pale skin and hair,

A being as harsh as Ice and pure as air;

Unable to bestow her curse of killing snow

On the fountain standing both strong and fair.


Nor can she hold back the coming Spring

Who calls for life to grow and birds to sing,

And Winter loses her dominion in the dawn.

Darkness fades, and newly grown, everything.

Golden Hearted Angel

Golden hearted angel I hear your voice

Never still, always reverberating and ringing.

Golden hearted angel I know that you’re singing

You are ageless, forever in a memory.


Heaven knows we all wish you were here,

But we have your words and your songs.

Golden hearted angel you will never be gone,

We have you locked in an eternal melody.


R.I.P Chris Cornell

Churchyard in Padstow

I left behind idle time

Once I entered the churchyard in Padstow

Silent and alone.

No names written on the weathered graves,

No choir in the church

Yet songs ran free from budding trees,

Songbirds in their morbid sanctuary.

One gate leads to the path towards the sea,

The other into woodland

Nightly shaded even in the day.

This is peace in harmonious decay.

Autumn Woods

Those heavy hours that linger

On the rivers of autumns veins

Grow colder and more silent

As woods see wind and rain.


Bells call upon the night birds

To take for themselves a sky

Now stained with ink and stars.

Too soon comes the hollow night.


Now those free and ancient woods

Once the realm of life newly grown,

Harbours only spirits caught

In the final throws of death alone.

The Sea

Sunlight does not reach these Caverns

Open like the mouths of stagnant hell.

They grow darker as you drift on down

Slowly in the balance of gentle death.


Like a feather in a ray of moonlight

You no longer cling to a beating heart.

Instead, between the black and the waves,

You drift before the stars fade away.


Your hands reach for the silver moon

Rays reaching out to you like pale arms.

But it is too weak to hold on to you

And they retreat into the oncoming dawn.


So, silently, you fall into the open dark

Still and cold but free to hope,

You will be lifted by loving hands to the sky,

The stars grow closer as you finally die.