Cycles Pass and Fade

Cycles Pass and Fade is a Poem about the cycle of life, the clash of thought, and mans amnesia of his past. Inspired by the song “Wicker Man” by Damh the Bard, and also Michael Ruppert and his PRN Radio show “The LifeBoat Hour”

The first draft of this poem was written and released on January 6^th, 2014 under the Title “Clashing thoughts in Worlds Unseen”…I wasn’t satisfied with it and so I rewrote it on June 27th, 2015 and included the new title; “Cycles Pass and Fade”.

Cycles Pass and Fade

Hear the drummers drumming, the rhythm of the fold,

feel your heartbeat rising, to forgotten thoughts of old.

Wrapped in shrouds of dusk, and scarves of brilliant light,

moving fast, unfolding plains, reflections in the night.

Shining eyes through hooded cloaks, determined in defiance,

thin lined expressions smile, held back in non-compliance.

The air is thick with vision, prophetic thoughts to gorge,

Crashing on benighted shores, the warnings were ignored.

Moving in the shadows, enlightened whispers flow,

Empathic streams of healing, against the night they glow.

Waiting champions rise, holding oaths to advancing legions,

thoughts in light and darkness, confronting forgotten reasons.

Audacious, bold and fearless, in confidence, promise made,

like declarations made before them, they wither, pass and fade.

Cycles come and cycles go, new life takes its place,

the siege engulfs all history, the old ones leave no trace.

Yet still the waves of apathy, flood the minds of men,

who never see the eschaton, that spells their mortal end.

Stewart Brennan

Inspired by the song “Wicker Man” by Damh the Bard

Damh the Bard – World United Music

http://worldunitedmusic.blogspot.com/2011/11/damh-bard.html

AND…

Also Inspired by Michael C. Ruppert and the LifeBoat Hour

http://prn.fm/hosts/michael-ruppert/

In Memory of Michael C. Ruppert (1951 – 2014)

http://worldunitednews.blogspot.ca/p/in-memory-of-michael-c.html

Valleys

Valleys

The last days of summer, descend uneasy skies,

merging mountain and valley beyond in twilight.

Crimson nebulous shrouds give promise of return,

as warmth embraces my soul, and says goodbye.

Thoughts grace reflection as mirrors looking back,

engaging heartfelt moments and happier times.

All appears as yesterday, some moments forever,

these treasures locked away from long ago.

Faded smiles return, with longing thoughts of home,

travelling to scenes in old black and whites,

they play on my mind and nourish my soul.

Essence flickers recognition from guarded reaches,

filling a melancholy heart with happiness.

Cherished friends no longer here,

family come back to life,

now bathed in empathy and protected,

where time never ends,

We embrace our moments together once again.

Autumn has arrived, and in brilliant colour,

trees rain their creative souls upon the ground.

A mosaic of splendour and abundance,

freely given as an offering to the essence of nature.

Benediction and thanks for granting substance and life,

but leaving its soul exposed to harsh elements.

A dusting of thoughts engage brilliant seasons,

where conscious smiles forever shining, gaze.

We once painted infinity with laughter and song,

a montage of energy in the celebration of being,

heard and recorded by time and moments made,

to play here, in the valleys of radiant memory.

The sun now falls and sets on autumn skies,

winter arrives, cold with life’s sacrifice,

when tree’s nod off to sleep on seasons ending.

Natures guardians stand firm and strong to the elements,

defiant, proud and upright with deep roots to life,

they vow to reawaken with springs rebirth.

I nod my agreement with noble promise, well made,

and pledge my covenant of remembrance,

to those that hold my conscious spirit,

returning back to times before, I gladly affirm.

When the last sun goes down, in the winter’s eve of my life,

we will again meet, in those treasured moments,

to repaint valley skies with our spirit and essence,

together once again, we will be home.

-------------------------- 

This Poem was inspired by a very moving composition by artist and composer John Sokoloff called “Valleys”

Direct Link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8ajKwbdNJM

John Sokoloff – Official Website

http://johnsokoloff.net/home.htm

John Sokoloff - YouTube

http://www.youtube.com/user/yulno

John Sokoloff  - World United Music

http://worldunitedmusic.blogspot.com/2010/06/john-sokoloff.html

Estuary of Life

Estuary of Life

Mist swells in perfect reflection on estuary's mirror,

held in place by the chill of the air.

Dawn peaks on the horizon,

its rays held back by rising fog.

Thrilled sounds of the geese are heard making ready,

as they offer their prayers to god above.

Echoes from the forest join their hymn,

as all make ready to greet a nebulous morning sky.

Excitement builds to hushed thunder,

by the beat of ten thousand wings,

in reply to the silence,

and a new song lifts into the air.

Hearts racing, beating faster in joy and jubilation,

they carry my spirit in tow,

raising me up with them in celebration of life,

a oneness with the universe,

and the river of life goes ever on.

------------------

Music brings image and emotion together in ones mind and as I reflect on the brilliant piece of music by Dirk Maasson “The River” I’m reminded of the Estuary of Life and the magic nature holds.

Dirk Maassen - River

http://youtu.be/GY0Q-haYF7Y

Dirk Maassen – Official Website

http://www.maassen-music.com/

BUY MUSIC

Dirk Maassen - Bandcamp

https://dirkmaassen.bandcamp.com/

One Heart One Soul

A Poem about Soul Mates.

One Heart One Soul

Made before the break of dawn, one soul is split apart,

but never fully separate, is the rhythm of the heart.

Born in different places, are these cast away spirit twins,

as distance captures ages, their loneliness builds within,

Searching for each other, the missing part of them,

heartbeats ever glowing, will search until the end.

Empathy flow directed, weaving thoughts now caught together,

pulling each other closer, distance wanes by unseen tether.

Two lonely souls searching, refusing to be alone,

destiny plays its part, as they make their way home.

First meeting is recognition, two souls who seek each other,

empathic beings now bonded, and dedicated to one another.

Souls re-merge forthwith, embraced by timeless light,

come to rest a moment, before the day is night.

Long have they journeyed, and long have they to go,

for forever is the mystery, of two empathic souls.

Discussion never questioned, together they are one,

bound to passions guiding them, never to be shunned.

From looks an understanding, conversations without a word,

thoughts agreed in whispers, never by others heard.

Reflections in the water, pooled in mirrored eyes,

unbreakable connection, that paints their sunlit skies.

Rest now my spirit’s flower, rest before the night,

on tomorrow’s new horizon, our wings they do take flight.

The Minstrel

The Minstrel

Nestled close to Ironwood forest,

illuminated by candle light,

the Puffin Inn was warm but dreary,

on the coldest and darkest of nights.

Howling winds put a nip in the air,

hearth fires from the Inn could be seen,

while the snows of the north were blowing,

the wendigo played in between.

Suddenly then, at the tavern door,

a dark shadow came into the light,

his winter cloths spoke of his lore,

as he requested a room for the night.

The stranger drew all eyes attention,

as they followed him across the room,

he made for the furthest most table,

away from the murmuring gloom.

With sobering Calm and Caburus smile,

the bard threw off his lute and cloak,

the candle flickered at his table,

as he motioned for drink and smoke.

He sat down there on a wooden stool,

a tobacco pipe in his left hand,

the maid approached with jug of ale,

crop of leaf from a box on the stand.

“Will you sing us some of your tales,

and tell us of your travel’s good sir,

we’ll gladly pay for all of your time,

and the food is whatever preferred.”

The Minstrel looked up, then smiled back,

through the smoke and embers of his pipe,

he then swung his lute across his chest,

and gave the old frets a wipe.

Silver coins appeared in front of him,

as townsfolk gathered at his table,

for tonight they’d hear a few stories,

a little news if he was able.

He put the coins in a leather pouch,

nodded and began strumming a tune,

a hush was heard, the Inn fell quiet,

save his lute in an attentive room.

“Have you ever heard, the tyrant king,

the tax collector of lower land?

the famine, the food, the missing coins,

and their punishment for sleight of hand?”

The excitement built around the room,

as the bard described the ancient king,

his words flowed true and rhythmically,

and with a smile, he began to sing.

“A town rebellion was in the air,

from the heavy burden on them all,

when the people rose, and spoke as one,

their sly king and guard did fall.”

“For who could claim to be so thoughtless,

of the domination one does hold,

and you must be ever attentive,

to those you entrusted with your gold.”

The tavern burst out in merriment,

very happy with the traveler’s song,

their faces brimming acknowledgement,

all agreeing that the king was wrong.

Of news and runes of fallen empires,

wild songs of laughter unfold,

he played well into the early hours,

until all of his songs were retold.

For five long nights, he stayed at the Inn,

but now it was time to go,

he packed up his things, gathered his gifts,

and slung his fine lute in tow.

“I’m much obliged for your service sir,

with smiling nod, the innkeeper said,

they were the best nights we’ve ever had,

there’ll be no charge for the room and bed.”

The Minstrel smiled and nodded his head,

tipped his hat in reply to his host,

he then made his way outside the Inn,

where the wind swept away with his ghost.

-------------------------------------------

*Notes:

Caburus (Gaius Valerius Caburus) was the leader of the “Helvii” who were a small Celtic polity west of the Rhône river on the northern border of Gallia Narbonensis.

The Wendigo is a mythological creature or evil spirit which originates from the folklore of First Nations based in and around the East Coast forests of Canada.

The Minstrel (Bard) in this poem is “Wisakedjak” (Wee-sa-ked-jak) a Native American Spirit who is usually portrayed as a staunch friend of humankind, and never has a dangerous or destructive being.

Also: The Minstrel was a medieval musician who traveled across Europe performing story filled songs and tales that often brought news from distant places. People of the town would gather at an Inn where the Minstrel stayed and would take care of his stay in exchange for his craft. In the days before the printing press, they would often relay news from parts of the world that they traveled, and of course it was to the enthusiasm of many an ear…

Social Collapse

Social Collapse

In global arenas of thought and mind,

Moments and opinions, locked in a bind.

Comments get ugly, coarse and rind,

Humanity’s so empty, and hard to find.

---

Ego inflated leaders, on mountains looking down,

piling on the wounds, they burn us to the ground.

As the valleys fill with water, the lifeboats are all broken,

forbidden to speak of things, your masters have all spoken.

Neighbours that you thought you knew, have begun to point their fingers,

scared to death of the shadow men, and the fear that seems to linger.

I find myself alone at night, with pandemonium all around.

and then the door busts open, “freeze! Don’t make a sound!”

The neighbours gather outside your door, the SS dogs are barking,

you have a new identity, from all the Labels and markings.

Friends and family abandoned you, believing what they’re told,

never even investigating, the lies that they were sold.

They’ve trashed your house, ruined your life, and taken your computer,

then carry you out, guns a waving, leaving everything to the looters.

It seems the crimes committed, came from outside the box,

you’re not allowed to organize, think or allowed to talk.

Supremism fills the nation, on a witch-hunt they go,

their minds have all been taken, focused on imagined foe.

The rhetoric shifts to global change and total eradication,

whatever happened to society, and this mighty great nation?

It’s hard to understand the ignorance, it all becomes nightmarish,

when political's take your rights away, societies fall and perish.

A Flickering Teardrop

 

A Flickering Teardrop

 

Gliding through space and time, evolving to her death

Moments and thoughts reflected, embraced by what is left.

Immoral civilizations, complacent with mounting greed

Bringing Earth’s apocalypse, while painted smiles lay siege.

 

Stacks of books lay dormant, a testament to what’s been done

In echoed halls of misery, where victor’s words are sung.

Read now the omissions, of morality and common sense

It lays in opposition, to the sociopaths offence.

 

Anvils of industry empowered, by empty political decrees

disrupting the natural course of things, that no one claims to see.

Oceans of fate devoid of life, now forever to unfold

Behold the paper forests, and the written words in gold.

 

TV watching programs, expressing hate and fear

Bowing down to the electric god, who’s painted as a seer.

Watch the sun declining, disgusted with all the hate,

Fractal units left alone to experience their mortal fate.

 

Ego inflated carrion, fly over what’s been said

Pursuing illusions of comfort, they no longer count the dead.

The setting sun goes down now, the tempest spins in haste

Reflections of a declining world, a flickering teardrop in space.

 

They Come on Gusts of Wind

 

 

They Come on Gusts of Wind

 

It happens before every storm, the build up of emotion that peeks to an awareness that something more than a storm is coming. As the wind picks up, it brings with it an energy field that seems to bridge the spirit world and the living world into one consciousness.
 

The excited sounds of the birds outside confirm my feelings that I’m not the only one that feels the rise in emotion and energy. Alarm bells go off in my mind warning me that something is coming…I feel like I’m inside a dream not able to see what looms in front of me but I know its there…I feel it’s approach as the raised hair on my neck confirms.
 

The wind rolled in, howling down on the dwellings of confused inhabitants all around me. Dark clouds above moved in swiftly, battling in a tangled twilight with the suns rays revealing images in motion as if on plains long forgotten and in stories from long ago only rediscovered now as they announce their presence.
 

The clouds merged into landscapes and shadow images seen only in dreams as the wind carries something that moves unseen and silently into place. Formations held fast as the wind briefly dies to reveal consciousness peering down on the life below…and then just as quickly as it came, moved away, chased by something close behind.
 

There was an awareness in the air that seemed driven by confident madness…and yet it did not take notice of the scurrying figures below. The moment seemed fit for the beginning of a nightmare but in a waking moment, it is real…
 

In an instant, my mind is taken to confident thoughts and impressions found when consciousness takes hold in dreams. There are cycles of deja vu and all knowing flowing through my mind, thoughts of shadow and light. Something is there…I sense it, and it senses me…
 

 

Destiny Awakened

Destiny Awakened
 

Imprints hidden internal, come forth from long ago

Reaching deep within you, your purpose starts to flow

Visions brightly glowing, illuminating paths ahead

The truth begins unfolding in stories to be read.

 

Empathic feelings inside you, relax your awakened mind,

Embrace the conscious spirit, and the truth that you will find.

The answers that you seek, will flow with insightful visions

Whispering when the time is right, for you to make decisions.

 

Trust in intuition, it will always see you through

Awaken to your destiny, forever guiding you.

 

In Living Moments

In Living Moments

Peaceful thoughts descend on me,

from a time so long ago,

flowing from the well of life, 

that carries my heart and soul. 

Thoughts imbued with energy,

from the days that passed us by, 

in days we lived forever, 

when empathy touched the sky. 

We sang then of our dealings, 

the good things that we’d do, 

by acting on our feelings, 

to build the world anew. 

A world so full and living, 

inspirations made of life, 

empathic souls so giving, 

influence without the strife. 

Slowly time’s consumed us all, 

and left our oaths forsaken, 

trapped in forests blind and dense, 

with hopes they reawaken. 

Chance has surely rolled on by, 

responsibilities past, 

pulling down our different roads, 

the distance long and vast. 

Life is moving quicker now, 

out of phase with everything, 

lost in a maze of anyhow, 

and tied to tangent things. 

Wish I had a time machine, 

to take me to the past, 

when spoken words had meaning, 

and everything made to last. 

-------------------------------

Shades of Grey

Shades of Grey 

 

Day is night, and night is day

blending views to shades of grey

white is black and black is white

bending darkness, bending light.

Good is bad and bad is good

iron branches twisted wood

moral standing, evil play

greed and power have their way.

Lies are truth and truth are lies

stories played to demonize

coercion pressures on us all

shamed and blamed before the fall.

Coups are bad and coups are good

voting process, for statehood

division plans are then applied

interference from outside.

Rich is poor and poor is rich

living here comes with a hitch

independence, freedoms gone

different ways are frowned upon.

War is peace and peace is war

games are played out on the poor

terror villains strike a blow

alt news sources told you so.

Right is wrong and wrong is right

sets the tone for us to fight

for day is night, and night is day

bending views to shades of grey.

------------------------------------

(Rewritten May 7th, 2022)

About this Poem: The world has been turned upside down by those in control of Western economic power, politics and media. Immorality has become moral in their eyes and when there are voices that speak truth against their twisted ideologies, they are met with condemnation, vilification, and censorship. In my opinion, history and the values we hold in life are being rewritten by the extremely insane. The result of which will lead our civilization to its total destruction.

Noble Victories Be Not Still

Noble Victories Be Not Still

In darkest places when night is high,

Forward come dark minions nigh.

Thunder ground and air so shrill,

Replacing slumber and peaceful still.

Conscience now awakened, searching for the light,

Quickly trampled underground, by demons in the night.

Warning sounds echo, from guarded mountain tops,

Waking restful souls from sleep, to help them make it stop.

Battles build to outrage, as the people defend their homes,

Millions mourn the victims, of the bloody plight of Rome.

Watching eyes eternal, good people vigilant with pride,

Weep before their gods of light, for the many that have died.

Screams of outrage rise, the world over do they burn,

Startled leaders grapple, with the force that people churn.

Voices forward thrust, forceful, right and noble,

Collective conscience rises, a presence vast and global.

The enemies of mankind, commanding demons from their towers,

Stepping back humiliated, the people's finest hour.

Stay attentive and be not restful, deceived or weak,

Mankind’s enemies lust with greed, and forever does it seek.

For deceitful lies in webs cast, for money land and power,

Lay disguised and hidden, just waiting for their hour.

Dreaming

Dreaming

Distant voices shaking,

escape opacity's wrath,

seeking inner fires,

that light upon the path.

While shadows trapped in twilight,

allude with malintent,

striking fears attention,

on souls that they torment.

Shapes come into forum,

as sleep awakens night,

panic builds momentum,

and hides just out of sight.

Heartbeat races faster,

charged and full of flight,

while darkness wanes to question,

and run instead of fight.

Scenes adrift unfolding,

consciousness aware,

empathic visions capture,

the essence that is there.

Enlightened soul now present,

fears have all been slain,

morning breaks the silence,

and removes you from the plain.

-------------------------------

2nd Edit 2020 Mar 06

About this Poem: Nightmares conquered 

Spiritual Connection

Spiritual Connection

Connecting places lost within,

walking paths that never dim,

empathic thoughts, restful mind,

healing powers for you to find.

  

Hidden Castles

Hidden Castles

 

Morning light evening hallows

fading scenes cast in shadows

themes unfold, twilight ridden

exposing throngs in castles hidden.

--------------------------------------

About this Brevity: Four lines and two thumbs up for the investigative journalists, activists and whistleblowers that work hard to expose deceit, corruption and crimes of the powerful. 😉

Included in my Book "The Activist Poet Vol 3"

Hidden Worlds

Hidden Worlds

 

Fractal Spirits

Fractal spirits captured in worlds in between

Autumn Foliage

Autumn Foliage

 

Autumn Matrix

Autumn Matrix

 

Harvest Sunset

Harvest Sunset