Witness the Dawn

Witness the Dawn

Behind raspy rhythms

two eyes illume

drawing deep breath

in the amethyst gloom.

Where firefly’s light

holds the hours of June

and twilight skies

drink the silver moon.

Upon the horizon

the angels glow

amongst the clouds

where endless dreams go.

They shine their brilliance

red empathies flow

to warm the essence

of creation below.

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About this Poem: This poem was inspired by an Ennio Morricone tune called “Giù la testa” from the 1971 movie, “Duck You Sucker”

The Sorrows Came

The Sorrows Came

When our gardens burned in the banes of treason,

and our essence empaled by American mallets,

the sorrows came in the form of demons

and filled to brim our bloodied ballots.

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The poem was inspired by David Diop’s Poem “Vultures”

Vultures

In those days,
when civilization kicked us in the face
the vultures built in the shadows of their talons
the blood-stained monument of tutelage.


David Diop - (born July 9, 1927, Bordeaux, Fr.—died 1960, Dakar, Senegal), was one of the most talented French West African poets of the 1950s, whose tragic death in an airplane crash cut short a promising career.

Diop’s works in Coups de pilon (1956; “Pounding”), his only surviving collection, are angry poems of protest against European cultural values, enumerating the sufferings of his people first under the slave trade and then under the domination of colonial rule and calling for revolution to lead to a glorious future for Africa.

Yoke of Oppression

Yoke of Oppression

When the red coats trampled us into the dirt

and the clouds of hunger swallowed our skies,

the yoke of oppression found our necks,

while squalid futures bled the fields dry.

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

The poem was inspired by David Diop’s Poem “Vultures”

Vultures

In those days,
when civilization kicked us in the face
the vultures built in the shadows of their talons
the blood-stained monument of tutelage.

David Diop - (born July 9, 1927, Bordeaux, Fr.—died 1960, Dakar, Senegal), was one of the most talented French West African poets of the 1950s, whose tragic death in an airplane crash cut short a promising career.

Diop’s works in Coups de pilon (1956; “Pounding”), his only surviving collection, are angry poems of protest against European cultural values, enumerating the sufferings of his people first under the slave trade and then under the domination of colonial rule and calling for revolution to lead to a glorious future for Africa.

Governing Order

Governing Order

In these days of negative spectrums,

when truth and morals are engulfed in flames,

the governing order locks our doors

growing fat with their misery games.

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

The poem was inspired by David Diop’s Poem “Vultures”


Vultures

In those days,
when civilization kicked us in the face
the vultures built in the shadows of their talons
the blood-stained monument of tutelage.

David Diop - (born July 9, 1927, Bordeaux, Fr.—died 1960, Dakar, Senegal), was one of the most talented French West African poets of the 1950s, whose tragic death in an airplane crash cut short a promising career.

Diop’s works in Coups de pilon (1956; “Pounding”), his only surviving collection, are angry poems of protest against European cultural values, enumerating the sufferings of his people first under the slave trade and then under the domination of colonial rule and calling for revolution to lead to a glorious future for Africa.

Of Grey Roads and Landings

Of Grey Roads and Landings

No truer than the television

that blinds its host of their vision

absorbs the essence into fire

to render moods dark and dire.

Pretentious subjects taken in

that seethes and boils under skin

as repetition compounds belief

sucking souls just like a thief.

Voracity consumes the mind

to render victims deaf and blind

fills the soul with bright illusions

communicating their delusions.

And when the program begins to stall

the world that’s built begins to fall

misconception fades and dies

but from the ashes one can rise.

for all the lies that one had learned

built a lifetime, have crashed and burned

minds then opened in the light

with grand connection to inner sight.

A gift of sight that’s not financial

on frequency that’s substantial

it rains compassion, opens eyes

brings contentment and surprize.

All that matters then comes to you

before your transit from the zoo

one last chance to make amends

with distant family and fading friends.

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About this Poem: For generations our populations have been controlled by a few through a complex web of lies and illusions. We’ve been fed these lies our entire lives, but as the internet opened doors to challenge the controllers of the system, an information war began to wage around the world. For some, belief in the system’s programs will continue to their death. But for others, they will awaken and see the illusion for what it is and correct their path making amends, forgiving some and moving onto a whole new world that functions in a higher state of consciousness.



The message - Shed the ego, see the truth, repair your bridges and build new ones.

A Secret Place

 

Photo by: Stewart Brennan

A Secret Place

The forest children hid their lands

amongst the ivy’s brackish tans

of thickets that surround their fore

a mile or so upon the shore.

Intuition had found it there

not far away from Hatley fair

amongst the deepest greens you’ll see

neath the elms and willow tree.

The way inside where I was led

through scarlet shroud a glowing red

this forest place that I was shown

with door made of carnelian stone.

Around the frame time spoke in runes

of passing cycles of the moon

which played a part in crossing through

now lost to shadows from our view.

First nations of the pagan age

intune with nature they engaged

their gem stone works are still revered

and from their path all lines appeared.

Lost forever, histories gone

in common knowledge all withdrawn

these forest seeds of human birth

that stretched out far across the earth.

But presence here is greatly felt

in conscious minds all about

who see the door in waking dreams

a mile or so near Hatley streams.

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About this Poem: Working on my 4th book which will be one of imagination and story telling.

*Hatley is a small country village of about 800 people tucked away in the Eastern Townships, Quebec.

Crystal Clear

 

Crystal Clear

We must close our eyes to see the light

where flashing measures glow firm and bright

unique perceptions from days of old

in a universe where thoughts unfold.

Utopian world where once we grew

still plays its part in déjà vu

that covered earth with pius lands

now lost in time’s amnesic sands.

Once a focus of the mindful heart

when crystal computers played their part

they condensed the light through a mirror

made of amethyst to see clearer.

The centerpiece of an ancient realm

that kept the greater good at helm

and forged connection to the stars

when the right to choose was all ours.

In the quiet you can hear its verse

an inner voice where we converse

made of whispers and conscious mind

a powerful tool when all aligned.

For thousands of years we lost our nous

adrift this timeline’s taken us to

a world rebuilt by greedy men

who distract the mind again and again.

But if you focus and close your eyes

remove addictions and all the lies

essence feels this old connection

inner peace with divine affection.

A world in tune we once had made

returns in bloom from where we strayed

a world devoid of warring fear

with inner vision that’s crystal clear.

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Written for a poetry contest on the Atlantis Card Deck: Card Chosen for me was, "The Great Crystal"

This card suggests that you look at the source of your inner power. Do not underestimate yourself. Every thought, word and action radiates an energy that affects others and draws situations and people to you. Make sure your aims are for the highest good; great currents of energy will emanate from you, enabling you to be a power generator to help the world.

Use your power for the highest good.

About this Poem: It is my belief that a highly advanced civilization existed before a cataclysm brought the younger dryas period between 12,900 BC and 11,700 BC. The ice sheets that covered North America and Europe for 2.58 million years rapidly melted and raised the oceans by 200 to 400 feet. Cities and populated land masses submerged into the oceans. Climate changed throughout the world and the ancient civilizations that existed during that time were wiped out and mankind had to start over.

The proof of a highly developed civilization prior to ours exists all over the planet from the sands of Egypt to the west cost of South America to the jungles of India to the forbidden places in China, into the Middle East and modern day Turkey. The evidence is overwhelming.

There is much talk today about the ancients possessing very high technology and it’s hard to dismiss due to artifacts found in places like the Cairo museum and the megalithic building structures all around the world.

Out of the dust and ashes of that cataclysm, rose a new civilization, the one we find ourselves in today which is extremely violent, power hungry and extremely repressive in every sphere of influence. There is a better way to life than what we have today as I feel that the ancient civilizations before the Younger Dryas period was more attuned to life, consciousness, nature, and the cosmos.

Exploring Many Massive Megalithic Wonders At Saqqara

Ancient Stone Objects In The Cairo Museum In Egypt

It is from this starting point that legends and stories arise of Atlantis made famous by Plato’s dialogues Timaeus and Critias.

Plato's indications of the time of the events, more than 9,000 years before his time, Plato was Born 428/427 or 424/423BC and Died 348/347 BC.

The primary sources for Atlantis are Plato's dialogues Timaeus and Critias; all other mentions of the island are based on them. The dialogues claim to quote Solon, who visited Egypt between 590 and 580 BC; they state that he translated Egyptian records of Atlantis. Plato introduced Atlantis in Timaeus, written in 360 BC:

"For it is related in our records how once upon a time your State stayed the course of a mighty host, which, starting from a distant point in the Atlantic ocean, was insolently advancing to attack the whole of Europe, and Asia to boot. For the ocean there was at that time navigable; for in front of the mouth which you Greeks call, as you say, 'the pillars of Heracles,' there lay an island which was larger than Libya and Asia together; and it was possible for the travelers of that time to cross from it to the other islands, and from the islands to the whole of the continent over against them which encompasses that veritable ocean. For all that we have here, lying within the mouth of which we speak, is evidently a haven having a narrow entrance; but that yonder is a real ocean, and the land surrounding it may most rightly be called, in the fullest and truest sense, a continent. Now in this island of Atlantis there existed a confederation of kings, of great and marvelous power, which held sway over all the island, and over many other islands also and parts of the continent."

Sachsayhuaman, Cusco Peru

The Rock-cut Caves of Ellora and Ajanta, Maharashtra, India

Cycles and Rhythms

Cycles and Rhythms

Cycles and rhythms begin from one’s birth

with the gifting of life on planet earth

cycles that stage with the moon and the sun

regardless of time or where we come from.

A patterned series that brings lows and highs

from beginning of life to the day we die

we’re a rhythmic heartbeat that grows and learns

sinusoidal wave forms with peaks and turns.

Awareness, intuition, essence, strength

emotion, intellect all have a length

timing is different but sometimes converge

and through these patterns our cycles emerge.

The patterns of life, in the things we do

repeat in numbers to make it all true

it might be sports or multiple careers

cycles have stages and a length in years.

Those years are your numbers, special in you

revealed in birthdates or nemesis too

all can be measured, put on a scale

every victory or when you fail.

Think of achievements, your get up and go

days when your energy is high or low

as emotional stages rise and fall

our biorhythms can address it all.

One’s basic emotions, strengths and needs

are better dealt with when positive leads

and once you’ve mastered the timing of peaks

apply a set of strategic techniques.

Cycles and rhythms in emotional flow

with peaks and valleys that help us to grow

your spark is electric from heart to mind

bring interesting moments when all are aligned.

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About this Poem: The theory of biorhythm starts from the fact that since birth, man, or more precisely, his emotional, physical and intellectual abilities pass through favorable, unfavorable and critical moments. One easy way to understand or recognize the biorhythm is when you notice there are days when you feel good with no apparent reason.

Biorhythms describe energy levels and the capacity for performance on 3 Primary levels: physical, emotional and intellectual.

The emotional biorhythm governs the nervous system and lasts for 28 days. The same length as the Moon's cycle. It relates to one’s emotional stability or stress level which influences our emotional states, affecting love/hate, optimism/pessimism, passion/coldness, depression/elation.

The intellectual biorhythm lasts for 33 days and relates to one’s mental capabilities, creativity, and aptitude to solve problems. The cycle influences our memory, alertness, speed of learning, reasoning ability and accuracy of computation.

The physical biorhythm lasts for 23 days and is related to your physical energy, strength, health, stamina.

The cycle effects the physical aspect of the body and encompasses one’s energy level, resistance, and ones overall physical strength and endurance. The cycle influences physical factors such as eye-hand coordination, strength, endurance, and resistance to disease. During the negative half of cycle, you are likely to have less energy and less vitality.

There are 4 Secondary Bio-rhythms that can also measured in cycles: Spiritual (53 days), Awareness (48 days), Aesthetic (43 days), Intuition (38 days)

Biorhythms are calculated using simple math and graphing the data over a cycle of time

To know and understand your biorhythms is to be one step up as to when making important decisions.

Here is a link to a Bio-rhythm calculator. Try it and see for yourself

To calculate, enter your date of birth and today's date (or the date for which you want to see the biorhythm diagram) and then click calculate

Definition: Sinusoidal is a word used to describe the mathematical wave form or pattern of the sine wave. It can also be used to describe blood flow to the body’s organs or in AC electronics where one cycle begins at zero, peaks to a maximum positive point, descends towards the zero, then to the maximum negative point and back to the zero point. The form is based on a unit of time where 1/Time = frequency and is applicable to everything including the many different cycles within our star.

Solar Cycle

An example of a sine wave depicting the human audio spectrum (20 Hz to 20 KHz)

The Escalation

The Escalation 

Wars begin by envious eyes

from business ventures in demand

resource nations become the prize

for greedy interests to expand.

Detailed plans create a feeder

on the people of the nation

focus trained on foreign leader

Satan made by their creation.

Allies courted behind closed doors

where power breathes life into greed

reveal their plans for foreign shores

informing of their mutual need.

Arms are twisted behind the scenes

forcing partners to climb aboard

by economic threats and schemes

targets laid out in broad accord.

Planned diversions do then unfold

in nations fraught by envy’s eyes

insecurities then take hold

where violence begins to rise.

Outrage feigned by antagonist

tough sanctions waged and then invoked

preaching like an evangelist

escalation to war is stoked.

Depravations begin to sting

by gang of nations in a block

unrest follows by pains they bring

with coups well funded by the hawk.

Insurrection that they bankroll

calls for freedom backed with fire

divided nation is their goal

in a sea of molten ire.

Troops deployed on foreign border

mediums broadcast, threats are made

capitulate to their world order

pressures mount by war games played.

Criminal banks confirm their theft

confiscation of their assets

provokes to action with nothing left

offensive fly-by’s now with jets.

Target nation stabbed in the back

whom call to arms their motherland

they brace themselves before attack

enlarge their armory by command.

Confrontation does then ensue

outrage staged by the offender

support then sought through TV views

call to public, their defender.

Selective lies for public shock

actors plead and then implore

tough as nails in doctrine talk

to seek approval for a war.

Fabrications to bend the mind

population will acknowledge

information is all maligned

by a long false common knowledge.

Vermillion lips so flush with greed

judge and jury with their demands

crave for riches beyond their needs

deliver death to other lands.

Wars unleashed by the banking hawk

rhetoric stroked to their extremes

allies pulled in to form a bloc

nightmares unfold while future screams.

Innocent people caught between

violent conflicts and greedy schemes

with no way out of this ravine

except rebellion to their theme.

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About this Poem: In the modern age, war begins by a control of information. (Information wars). The fabrication of information and the censorship of inconvenient truths are used for the purpose of creating a false common knowledge in the public. Once the enemy has been created, a false narrative is then inserted that rhymes with the long program to strengthen the narrative against the enemy.

When a block of nations begins pushing the same narrative, a geo-political war begins to unfold through sanctions, trade wars, an arms race and then military wars. These wars can sometimes be in the guise of a proxy war, war on terror, planned insurrections, coup or assassination attempts.

It is worth noting that all wars are economic in nature where politics is an extension of economics and war is an extension of politics. In the end we must ask who benefits and what did they profit by waging their war.

Seeking Advice

 

Art By Peter Brown

Seeking Advice

I sit here in my memories

secure in the home I once knew

days that nurtured my path in life

and where my independence grew.

You molded my thoughts with challenge

were there when I needed you most

although that world we lived is gone

I’m there and conversing with ghosts.

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Spring Returns

 

Art by Andrezej Berlowski

Spring Returns

Awake, awake deep from long restless sleep

cast off your shadows from grey winters’ grief

horizons adorn, the day is reborn

with blanket of warmth to bring us relief.

The balance returns by a sun that yearns

with the seeds of life in full embrace

of crisscrossing streams and paths to our dreams

where the flurry of essence gives chase.

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Reflections

 

Painting by: Claude Monet

Reflections

The universe is here with me

where I engage its dreamy glow

reflections of the pastel sea

of all the things I’ve come to know.

This aging ship is still afloat

one more chapter in my retreat

to finish painting things I wrote

some just bitter and others sweet.

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

Like a Thief in the Night

Like a Thief in the Night

A green mist billows from his steaming chalice

imbued with envy and staggering malice

his greedy intentions devour our dreams

where a beast takes form in violent regimes.

Deceitful, deceptive, a treacherous snake

with hidden objectives that cause you to break

acquiring all power to change all the rules

chicanery unfolds while appeasing the fools.

Resources claimed by the imperial hawk

while capital bleeders immerse in their stock

corruption ensues while appeasement unfolds

enslavement to debt then begins to take hold.

Burgeoning growth, abundance, prosperity

the monster unleashes his austerity

future looks bleak for the divided nation

as the debts take hold with stinging inflation.

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The Activist Poet

Refuge

 

Art by Jeff Rowland

Refuge

When the world fell apart by the steam of the trains

and the pain came down in the pouring rains

the clashes were dire malicious and fraught

upending the days when our essence had not.

We stood together to shoulder the storm

against the madness to keep us both warm

lost in each other, extensions in part

we remained intact when that train did depart.

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About this Poem: The steam of trains refers to the tyrannical governments and the powers of dictatorship used during the false pandemic between 2020 and 2022. The rain represents the dystopian atmosphere laced with fear, pain and anguish we suffered through by government mandates and a contemptuous public programmed and indoctrinated with lies.

We, my wife and I, and many others, resisted the dystopian coercion of forced mRNA inoculations despite the overwhelming injustice carried out on us during that period of time.

Forced government mandates tore families and communities apart. They waged a war on society that has not healed.

We stand with our dignity and immune systems intact, uncompromised by an evil cartel that controls all aspects of society. We remain defiant, vigilant and are determined to see justice come to those responsible...even if it takes a generation. We will never forget what they did

Ancient Warrior

 

Ancient Warrior

High bridged eyebrows, long sharp nose,

with hands clasped in Roman prose

eyes in prayer to gods below

essential for the roots to grow.

On his head abundant layers

passed down to his harvest heirs

blessings from this devotee

this ancient Roman olive tree.

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

About this Poem: Written to a Photo prompt of an ancient olive tree from Italy which is over 2,500 years old

The Terran Gods and Goddesses

 

The Terran Gods and Goddesses

The silver winged messenger hurries through

his name is Mercury, trickster in hew,

for in his rush of commerce and travel

heading his words will make you unravel.

Morning star Venus, the goddess of love,

a mesmerizing beauty from above,

always close by, she outshines all the stars,

comforts the dreamers in partner to Mars.

The marching warrior and God of war,

Mars in his mood brings the battles of Thor,

direct, courageous, action and fires,

lights up the eyes with burning desires.

Earth our home where all things exist,

a fortress of life against the abyss.

Gaia’s terrain where the gods come to play,

where mercury, Venus and Mars have their say.

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

In the Early Hours, I Can See

 Photo Art by Stewart Brennan

In the Early Hours, I Can See

I awoke from a dream that layered my thoughts

looking for answers my essence had sought

in the silence of darkness, calm and alone

I tried to remember what I had been shown.

I grabbed my hoodie and went for a walk

in the wee morning hours out to the dock

where a reticence of stars flickered their light

reflections on water where moon flows in white.

The shadows of evening all caught in the rise

by the first light of painting in lower skies

they connect to the universe, earth and moon

and I follow suit to bring me in tune.

Sun begins rising with its warmth on my face

while forest harmony and sounds interlace

a celebration of life does unfold

those moments on earth that the dream had foretold.

Unique understanding of minds held in tow

levels of consciousness all one in the glow

life on our planet, relies on the sun

and every star mirrors to make us all one.

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

Grandma’s Premonition

 Art by Eduard Leon Cortes

Grandma’s Premonition

September tenth, nineteen thirty-nine

New York city and the worlds fair

premonition, “we have to get home”

Canada declared war over there.

Arriving home, door opens wide

Bill had already enrolled

mother distraught, sank to her knees

in fear premonition had told.

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About this Poem: My grandparents (on my mother’s side), lived in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. They went to New York City in September 1939 to see the Worlds Fair. On September 10th 1939 while they were in NYC, Canada declared war on Germany. My Grandmother was overtaken by a fearful premonition to get back home as quickly as possible. When they arrived, her eldest son had already enrolled and greeted them at the door in his uniform. The painting reminds me of that fearful moment as told to me by my mother.

Dinner at Dusk

 

Art by Viktor Shvaiko

Dinner at Dusk

Dinner at dusk, was our favorite time

at Venice café on the lagoon

long candles, wine, windows and moon

violin serenading the room.

Gondola’s outside in slow motion

a mosaic of artwork in view

flowers graced our table for two

all radiant by the essence of you.

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

Edited on March 7th, 2023

Lost on the Sahara

 

Lost on the Sahara

If I had a map and compass

I’d know which direction to go

escape the endless dunes and heat

from this desert that’s swallowed me whole.

I must conserve my energy

for survival I must apply,

the sun is bearing down on me

and canteen’s entirely dry.

Waves of heat obscure my vision

and there’s a darkness taking form

that looks like something’s coming

amidst the gathering storm.

A dragon’s fire, scorching hot

flies in on the winds of the west

a sand of fiery pellets

that burns my face and my chest.

The sandstorm came in an instant

and was gone as fast as it came

while flaring sun returned with heat

with surroundings no longer the same.

Out of the sand stood a pillar

grey marks etched deep on its side,

with map to an ancient city

that served as a traveler’s guide.

I dug to follow the markings

and came upon sealed door,

removed the sand that blocked it

that displayed a large granite floor.

The way inside this cavernous rock

glowed white where a staircase was seen

so down I went into the earth

where the air was cool and pristine.

A roaring sound caught my mind,

an underground river was near

I managed my way to its edge

and saw that the water was clear.

I drank what the desert had stolen

submerged in tranquility

such cool relief from its water

in this place of antiquity.

And there in the liquid’s reflection

three tunnels moved underground

carved in a bedrock of granite

with statues of Thoth further down.

I gathered my thoughts and excitement

remembered that I was still lost

returned to the post of markings

to a map of figures embossed.

I recognized a few landmarks

on this map of the river Nile

which showed the place I was standing

way back was less than a mile.

“Follow the belt of Orion

due east on the Giza plateau

from there you’ll regain your bearings

and this story that needs to be told.

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Needle

Needle

I do not lightly choose a hand,

for one must make a moral stand,

wield essence by stern command,

confront the plague upon the land.

A conscious bond one does feel,

stronger than Damascus steel.

joined alliance that is real

with solemn oath, one must kneel.

Gift your essence unto my blade

for true transcendence, concord made.

a worthy oath that will be weighed

embrace it all, be not afraid.

My name is needle, light and dark,

so rightly named by Arya Stark.

feel my balance, thrust and arc,

a slender sword that finds the mark.

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

About this Poem: Specific Prompt: Personify the object next to your name…mine was a “needle”.

Arya Stark is a character in in George R. R. Martin's book series A Song of Ice and Fire, as well as its television adaptation Game of Thrones. “Needle” is the name of her sword.

The Forest Guardian

 

The Forest Guardian

Deep within the forest, where consciousness plays

a gathering of trees plans the coming days

for the balance was broken where forests recede

and the felling of Entwood required their need.

For thousands of years these old sages convened

connected by roots in the ground where they leaned

from the dawning of time and essence of mind

they made their decisions protecting their kind.

Outside the forest where the problems arise

in parliament buildings, all deaf to their cries

expansion was given for sustainable goals

to cut down the forest and broaden controls.

Their bowls overflowed by agreements of greed

an unstoppable force like a poisonous weed

but outside the buildings where these sinners played

stood voices of reason verses heads of trade.

Community of life, content what they had

rallied for nature, against powers gone mad

they surrounded buildings where decisions were made

refused to budge till their protests were weighed.

With stocks riding high, and fingers in their ears

they scoffed at the people they refused to hear

police were called in to strengthen their plan

and kill the protests while their projects began.

The protests moved to the edge of the forest

where people joined hands, shouting, “do not ignore us”

their feet dug in to the ground where they stood

a protective ring around the ancient wood.

Just then like magic a miracle came true

the forest expanded where the people grew

their legs intertwined while their roots built a wall

the Entwood sages had answered the call.

The merger that happened stopped the governing clan

with an ancient bond between the trees and man

the fate of the planet, were both intertwined

for consciousness connects us both through the mind.

We are all related and bonded at birth

no one should be judged on what they are worth

a contract by God made us brothers with trees

left proof on our bodies so everyone sees.

More than a story, a truth to believe

the holders of life and the air that we breathe

all life depends on the bonds that we bear

to remember the markings that both of us share.

On Earth we are given the essence of seeing

our connection to trees, its air and well being

for lungs are the branches, our hand prints the leaves

fingerprints and rings are lifetimes we weave,

the two are alike, both human and tree,

while under the sky, is our quest to be free.

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

About this Poem: Entwood is a derivative of JRR Tolkien’s “Ent” character who were tree herders. The word “Entwood” is used in this poem to express a living breathing consciousness that is part human and part tree.

In Death there is Life

In Death there is Life

Lifetime built against the strains

gathers in determined eyes

gaze across the open plains

where adjuration lives or dies.

Deep within a nagging guilt

while grounds rumble under him

he, this fortress, all he built

faced mortality, life and limb.

All events pass through his mind

as stinging blow turned to shock

a blow that came from behind

down he went this steady rock.

Episteme pours out spheres

while blood drips in crimson drops

all he was throughout the years

fades to shadows as heartbeat stops.

Last moments drain on the earth

arms reach out for longer stay

with promise of better worth

his consciousness then whisked away.

Through the door into the light

the universe spins in rhymes

mission ends, as well his fight

the part he played in trying times.

Harmonic waves then ensue

where pre-earth memories rise

comes the gnosis and the nous

hermetic wisdom of the wise.

In life there is death,

in death there is life.

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

About this Poem: As time grows shorter and the end draws near, I find I'm reading and writing more while coming into phase with the universe and the realities on earth...Something I wrote while reading the book, "The Quest for Hermes Trismegistus".

The Shire

 

The Shire

Hidden in the valley,

and un-beset by time

near Blue and Misty mountains,

the Shire you will find.

High rows of burrow dwellings

fresh garden plots outside

with roads of cobblestones

that’s flush with hobbit pride.

Their walls a charcoal slate

deep green moss on their rooves

round doors and hashtag windows

to keep away the gloom.

All were built upon the downs

against the rolling hills

south of eastern farthing

west of the Buckland mills.

The Brandywine feeds the streams

that drink to their content

which feeds the farms and village

gold ales at their events.

Hearty people of the Shire

known as the little folk

gather harvest at the place

around the giant oak.

Well kept vineyards, hobbit wines

sold on the road to Bree

never ventured very far

they’re timid folk, you see.

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

Friends

 

Friends

I remember friends

that place within our time

the atmospheres created

the hills before the climb.

Back then we’d live forever

and forever we did live

conscious moments of the dream

and memories they did give.

When our paths first crossed

we found that similar spark

that built a roaring fire

a friendship from the start;

then we danced around it

the bonfire we had made

gazed into its midst

and the characters that we played.

We dared the demons with our verve

danced upon their fires

rose up to the heavens

with our budding desires.

We tempted gods of fate

in the celebration of light

explored the universe

and knew that which was right.

We sang euphoric songs

that made us all aglow

spirits were always high

as friendships they did grow.

We bonded with each other

discovered true affection

looking back at pictures

I miss that great connection.

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I was complimented and humbled by a comment for this poem on All Poetry today. - "Minstral, your poem immediately reminded me of the song, "Bob Dylan's Dream." I appreciated the feelings you were able too instill, and the vocabulary that you used to do so. Nice work."

Made my day. Here's the Bob Dylan song (See below)

The Light that Shines

The Light that Shines

The emerald isle she calls me

there’s an aching in my heart

that plays on intuition

and begs me to depart.

Over land and over seas

old stories of my soul

remembering the tails

and youthful travel goals.

And the light that shines from her eyes

can heal the ravaged soul

that’s lost upon the Irish seas

and lost upon the moors.

We over-landers will come home

with essence to be free

take back the lands they stole

a place for you and me.

When Vikings came to conquer

assailed our peaceful shores

the ground that was our baile

rose up to greet their wars.

Battles lost and battles won

our warriors to the fore

freedom won at Clontarf

no servitude no more.

And the light that shines from her eyes

can heal the ravaged soul

that’s lost upon the Irish seas

and lost upon the moors.

We over-landers will come home

with essence to be free

take back the lands they stole

a place for you and me.

She claims my spark with whispers

Éire álainn her name

this lonely over-lander

my Irish heart she claims.

When glass of time had broken

assailed with Cromwell’s chains

we fought them all and survived

but deep scars etched remain.

And the light that shines from her eyes

can heal the ravaged soul

that’s lost upon the Irish seas

and lost upon the moors.

We over-landers will come home

with essence to be free

take back the lands they stole

a place for you and me.

Time sailed from grief to grief

led to our sovereignty

quickly turned into our blood

a sorrowful memory.

Days and nights of savaged past

have bloomed to modern day

Europe casts its chains again

our people in dismay.

And the light that shines from her eyes

can heal the ravaged soul

that’s lost upon the Irish seas

and lost upon the moors.

We over-landers will come home

with essence to be free

take back the lands they stole

a place for you and me.

Hey!

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About this Poem: As an Irish Canadian, I have a deep longing connection for my Irish roots. I feel the pain of the past and the pain of today and the home of my clan which I fear I’ll never see. But I am there in spirit.

“baile is Irish for “Home”

“Éire álainn” is Irish for “Ireland the beautiful”

Clontarf is in reference to “The Battle of Clontarf”. (See below)

The Battle of Clontarf (Irish: Cath Chluain Tarbh) took place on 23 April 1014 at Clontarf, near Dublin, on the east coast of Ireland. It pitted an army led by Brian Boru, High King of Ireland, against a Norse-Irish alliance comprising the forces of Sigtrygg Silkbeard, King of Dublin; Máel Mórda mac Murchada, King of Leinster; and a Viking army from abroad led by Sigurd of Orkney and Brodir of Mann. It lasted from sunrise to sunset, and ended in a rout of the Viking and Leinster armies.

It is estimated that between 7,000 and 10,000 men were killed in the battle, including most of the leaders. Although Brian's forces were victorious, Brian himself was killed, as were his son Murchad and his grandson Toirdelbach. Leinster king Máel Mórda and Viking leaders Sigurd and Brodir were also slain. After the battle, the power of the Vikings and the Kingdom of Dublin was largely broken.

The battle was an important event in Irish history and is recorded in both Irish and Norse chronicles. In Ireland, the battle came to be seen as an event that freed the Irish from foreign domination, and Brian was hailed as a national hero.