Archive for the ‘life’ Tag

Lacrimation   2 comments

Lacrimation

flowing

here, is my liquid soul
a releasing of my emotion
by me, for me, for you

it may be an overflow of sadness
or happiness, where measure
will never be found equal

streaming

in regret or anger it will show
no difference – never clear –
collected, it will have no gender

from the corner of my eye
in that place of furtive glance
awe and elation will be released

running

within the culture of my dreams
that which is of me, it will never be
undignified or infantile to express

there will be no insincere display
no pretence of crocodile, taste
the salt as it will lay upon my cheek

falling

breathing will be convulsive, the
upper body will spasm, look in to
the eye to capture the moment

it will always start with one and though
age may slow it, to know the truth,
look within the eye and see my

tear

Advertisements

Posted 10/03/2014 by DarKarsean in Life, Love, Musing, poem, poetic, Uncategorized

Tagged with , , ,

An Unfolding of Meaning   Leave a comment

An Unfolding of Meaning

Time of death – 11.29pm

I watched as my life, or was it now
my past life, was laid out before me
I gazed upon the physical and saw the
sterile silver of clinical hospital steel

I could not feel its icy touch and
although covered with a single thick,
white sheet, I could see through
to the naked body underneath

at my feet, at the end of that cold
stainless steel hospital gurney,
there lay folded a pure white knitted
blanket and as I hovered there

in that nowhere land, there in that
time between the beat of a heart,
slowly a corner of the blanket began
to unfold and inch slowly over my corpse

unlike other stories written I have no
feel for ghosts, no spectres of doom,
no past, no present no future to spite me,
there was no distant light calling me

my body jolts

light as the shadow I am, I have this
sense that as the blanket moves
my body is changing and even here
floating above myself I can see

a new beginning; I gaze down upon
my body and look this time through the
woven coverings but now there is …
something different

the feet are smaller, the legs have
become spindly with little hair and
as the blanket unfolds further I see
the metamorphosis of my body

the paunch of ninety two years has gone
replaced with the torso of a younger me
one who has yet to experience the many
firsts of things that will become my life

the skin of neck tightens as does
that of face and slowly the liver spots
of old age disappear to be replaced
by a familiar face of youthful times

what meaning unfolds for it appears
that I have not just been reborn
but I have been redrawn, repurposed
to a specific time of space and learning

the blanket has unfolded and covers my body
I can now feel its nerves, its blood warming
memories drain from my ghostly presence and
pour into the physical restructure before me

the clocks spin backwards with ever
increasing speed, changing shape and style
beginning old they become new as they reverse
in time, curtains change, instruments disappear

it is 1938 and this hospital ward is new, I am a
young boy of fifteen, I want to fight the war, this
I now know is the night 75 years to the day that I ran,
away from home to join that second great adventure

I watch as the ghostly apparition of my past
raises itself and appears to run the darkened
hospital corridor towards the blinking yellow light
and the entrance to what will become a lonely life

towards the darkening room a mother and father
walk hand in hand, I now have a decision to make
for I know that from this night so many lives
were changed – my mother died within a year

my father within two, I never saw them again
heart broken their lives could not be sustained
It took me fifty years to find my surviving sister,
and another three had died across the years

I could feel the warmth of unfolded blanket
and cried for all those years without the warmth
or love and nurture of family that I had given
away to a war I was too young to fight

there is a path in life that offers us a choice
to turn one way or the other and I had chosen
what turned out to be, for parents and family
a path too hard for them to bear

my body jolts

beside me another shadow flies, it is my younger me
that spirit that had chosen to run now drawn back,
and as we hold our own hands together we
descend to the physical and begin to breathe

there is a blackness until I feel the gentle touch
of mother hear a breaking voice of manly father
my hand rubs my face, the wrinkles gone,
my head has hair, I open my eyes and wonder

the lonely years have long gone, I am back
a blanket warms my body, another chance
warms my soul, I know no meaning which
can unfold to tell me what has happened

I will leave to you your own interpretation
because what this may mean to me in years
to come, will be different to what you see, for
everyone will have their own unfolding of meaning

Bread   2 comments

The baker arrives by horse and cart, the birds follow
those closest to town receive the freshest bread

Posted 06/10/2013 by DarKarsean in Musing, poem, poetry, Uncategorized

Tagged with , , ,

Her Frosted Winter   6 comments

Her Frosted Winter

She told me she would sit each day
at her desk of cluttered dreams
and place the palm of her hand
upon her frosted office window

She might not be able to see
but she could feel the reality
that existed on the other side

It was her one belief

Within her dreams and nightmares
there lay a single thread of hope
that she prayed would lead her through
the unforgiving winter her life had become

Burdened by the weight of autumn leaves,
her heart failing with broken spirit,
each day she would place the palm
of her hand upon the frosted glass

It was a sun filled day the first time the
glass softened beneath her palm
Only for a fraction of time, but it
was so real it made her soul jump

She slept that night with not so heavy heart
as deep within her body an ember glowed
Maybe, she thought, her dreams were not those
of a woman only ever told that she would fail

In time, the push of palm became easier
and the glass felt a little softer
She could feel herself reaching towards
a new reality, a new beginning

She had watched her mother and vowed
that as clichéd as the words may sound,
she would never let happen to her,
what had happened to her mother

but her wish for a different life had disappeared
into the sharps bin of many a public toilet
where the caged black dog of their lives roamed
neither strong enough to hold its studded leash

her body cried as the weight of her winter
and the cold hard fists of silence reinforced
the reality of the dark path she walked

Yet still, a tiny ember of dream spirit lived within

Returning to the refuge of her dreams
she continued to place the palm of her hand
on frosted glass and press gently, till the day
she felt the tips of her fingers, on nothing

She drew back in fright and for a moment,
a split second, just before the soul of the
glass flowed back to be as one, she saw
the beautiful space her fingers had left behind

Each day from then she sat and placed
the palm of her hand upon this frosted glass
Each day she pushed a little further into
the warm reality that lay beyond

Leaving behind the brute, the addiction,
the bloodshot eyes and hidden bruises
it was now time to reclaim the waste of her life
and to journey into the unknown

She rang me one last time and told me that
while she may not be able to control the future
that her destiny was now hers to own

She took two steps, into the frosted glass

Community   4 comments

you are
my brother
my sister
my father and mother

you are the stage
where I embrace you
listen to your voice
feel your words

you are the dream
the forever lover
hold my hand so that
we can walk together

you are the rainbow
without question
you are the heart
which fires my soul

I listen to your music
you are the flow
the stream of life
the rhythm of time

you are any of this
you are all of this
in yourself you are
what we all should be

community

Do I Have The Years Left   4 comments

I have wondered whether or not I have the years left to say all the things I need to say
Questioned whether or not the words I need to say are important
Looked within my words – is there a worth to my words
I question my ability, I question my commitment
Ashes to ashes, ink to dust, if the words don’t get me then my ignorance must
Free the body, free the mind, free the soul, feel for them and feel for life

But then, are not the words of everyone on this earth important
Find the score within the peace we need to know
Let not the winds and fire of ignorance wash over our bodies as we die
The physical death is as needless as the cerebral death
How can we take what is within the mind and send it to the world
Let the truth be found in my words and the words of others

Is it any harder than it could be if I did not try and the sun did not shine?
I want to see the world glow and bask in the sunlight of the soul
I want to see what we could be if I could be the ruler of the world
The more life dies the less stupid it is if think I could change the world
The world according to me – egotistical maybe but I have less ego than
Those that already rule our world

Lives are up and down, a little crazy, a little too fast, are we too afraid to die
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody – am I
Walking through the night, crazy dogs barking at the moon – or is it me
Priorities are arse about face – who gives a flying fig if we can live on Mars
I’d rather feed the hungry and stop billionaires
Is it too late to tell all those people that I still love them, that I still have tears

Getting high and flying away on life and love will be seen in the end
A poetry soap box every weekend, flying box kites on every other day
Loving as we need to be loved, whether be he or she
Greed is not good no matter which day dream you are in
Am I giving myself some thought as I slip away?

I’ve made mistakes and maybe someone is still paying for them
Give a child a mountain to climb over and watch the smile
Are we slipping away from the ones we love?
Is life all too hard to take the stand that needs to be stood?

Lessons to be learnt – time is just a note on the keyboard of life
Listen to the words, hear the sounds, feel the ink within your veins
Hold the hand of the one next to you to make an unbreakable chain

I have wondered whether or not I have the years left to say all the things I need to say
Questioned whether or not the words I need to say are important

I have looked within my words – is there a worth to them – is there time to ………..

Posted 17/03/2012 by DarKarsean in Uncategorized

Tagged with , , , , , , , ,

Do I Have The Years Left   2 comments

I have wondered whether or not I have the years left to say all the things I need to say
Questioned whether or not the words I need to say are important
Looked within my words – is there a worth to my words
I question my ability, I question my commitment
Ashes to ashes, ink to dust, if the words don’t get me then my ignorance must
Free the body, free the mind, free the soul, feel for them and feel for life

But then, are not the words of everyone on this earth important
Find the score within the peace we need to know
Let not the winds and fire of ignorance wash over our bodies as we die
The physical death is as needless as the cerebral death
How can we take what is within the mind and send it to the world
Let the truth be found in my words and the words of others

Is it any harder than it could be if I did not try and the sun did not shine?
I want to see the world glow and bask in the sunlight of the soul
I want to see what we could be if I could be the ruler of the world
The more life dies the less stupid it is if think I could change the world
The world according to me – egotistical maybe but I have less ego than
Those that already rule our world

Lives are up and down, a little crazy, a little too fast, are we too afraid to die
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody – am I
Walking through the night, crazy dogs barking at the moon – or is it me
Priorities are arse about face – who gives a flying fig if we can live on Mars
I’d rather feed the hungry and stop billionaires
Is it too late to tell all those people that I still love them, that I still have tears

Getting high and flying away on life and love will be seen in the end
A poetry soap box every weekend, flying box kites on every other day
Loving as we need to be loved, whether be he or she
Greed is not good no matter which day dream you are in
Am I giving myself some thought as I slip away?

I’ve made mistakes and maybe someone is still paying for them
Give a child a mountain to climb over and watch the smile
Are we slipping away from the ones we love?
Is life all too hard to take the stand that needs to be stood?

Lessons to be learnt – time is just a note on the keyboard of life
Listen to the words, hear the sounds, feel the ink within your veins
Hold the hand of the one next to you to make an unbreakable chain

I have wondered whether or not I have the years left to say all the things I need to say
Questioned whether or not the words I need to say are important

I have looked within my words – is there a worth to them – is there time to ………..

Posted 17/03/2012 by DarKarsean in Uncategorized

Tagged with , , , , , , , ,

%d bloggers like this: