Two Haiku

I would like to paint

Though I can’t find the strength

To handle the brush.

 

I could make movies,

Films breathe life into dreams –

But mine stay hidden.

Advertisements

The Stoic Fool

The stoic fool

With eyes like a magpie,

Lost in a world of Rhyme

And reason – he survives

As a spark in the absurd,

Knowing and playing

With the frayed and yellowed

String that connects the narrative

In the minds of all who

Exist on the mortal stage.

Aye, the stoic fool survives.

Glitterati

Like a deplorable trail of smoke

From the final cigarette of a bum

Who had it all and then lost it all,

You fade into the air and are forgotten.

 

Your body falls through shadows

Like hollow bones in a grave,

But you are lost, drunk and unfeeling

And you let the ether claim you.

 

Then like a lover expectant

Lying on an unmade bed with red sheets,

You try to sleep but your mind is in oil

And your eyes see angels.

 

You never woke, you never slept.

Like a cut out headline you imprint then decay,

Leaving only remnants of a burnt page

Dancing in the lost space of a man’s mind.

 

Champagne, no name, never to age,

Your eyes say they have seen it all

But you shiver at the sight of the poor

And your feet bleed as you dance.

 

Do not fool with the glitterati of the city.

Were we Worthy?

The sea turns to royal red

Under a high cliff covered with green,

The fire of the divine torches the sky

And time stops to breathe.

 

Those with compassion cried

As they joined the thieves in their game.

And kings will kneel with their subjects

When they recognise that we’re all the same.

 

A watcher on the shore stays

To watch the ashen winds circle and fly.

Ember rains pour like open veins

Or like the tears that the innocent cry.

 

Their money can’t halt their end

Caught in a tempest that will never rest

We joined hands like we thought we should

And gave in to the final test.

A Body in Eden

In paradise lay a serene and empty form

With eyes closed and clothes left torn,

That sweet birds sang to through the day

For in Eden did his body stay.

 

A myriad of flowers grew in his open hand

And autumn leaves like fallen dryads land

Upon this body now cold and alone

For in Eden he died unknown.

 

Nothing of heart or feeling remains

Under the first born sun or the eternal rain.

This child was born only to die

For in Eden did his body lie.

Cabin

I want to be the guy in the white shirt

Black tie, spewing nonsense bullshit

From my Cabin somewhere in the woods,

From a transistor radio with a screw loose.

I would set free insults both obscure and wild,

And watch the birds close the sun for the day.

My fans would be rabid, I wouldn’t trust them.

I would discuss history, executions, and martyrs,

Folk songs too. I’d play my own home recordings

From my solid white tape. I would spy on Jupiter,

Watch its rings and learn of its medicines.

My long shotgun (‘Rusty’) will rest at peace by the door.

The moon will be my spotlight and I will be happy.

A Ramble

I left behind the smoking wreckage,

Walked away from that old fire.

Oh I caught my whale alright

That was a product of my sight,

I can fake the chills in the night

Though I have never been there.

I can feel the sand on a shore

That I have never been too,

And conjure up a false emotion

Strong like a blue star.

I had a hit, or two, and sadness comes

When you realise you are not the only one.

That is not the case, however you may believe,

We are all whippets on the track

Chasing the political game

Wrapped in torchlight, melted candles

Restaurants with smiles and fake smiles,

A shiny car, belief in your fingers,

Simple breezes in thinning hair.

I am not one of their associates

I am not a corporation

But I am not an outsider like Odysseus,

I am not an open and tumultuous wave,

I will never be a Spaniard resting at midday.

Yet I can come close

In a summation approximately 12 lines long,

A parable, God I need a parable,

A world captured, it is Gabriel.