past – Page 4 – three good words

April 17, 2015

before/after

Before
not love
no
the necessity of a moment
pain that was cured
freedom secured
nothing angelic
nothing from above
no
nothing
notlove

After
to miss a presence
that fills the space
between night and day
work and play
a knowing
a showing
of understanding
feeling, something
beyond
beyond

Now
peace, today
not age
maybe wisdom
far more play
now
not then
real and true
enjoyment
.

March 30, 2015

two springs flow
clear against ancient bows
those sacred curves
rushing, slipping
silent-secret in shining liquid
quenching the sun
wetting monuments of once hottest blood:
molten stone erupting
oozing softly to the shore, burning
birthing an island in virgin foam.

seasons passed unheeded
storms raged and poured
and jagged peaks softened
deep as velvet, curved
seamed with crystalline white
bright-mystic black
silent against the endless surf;

yet deeper, and deeper still: the living heart
blooming bright against emerald blue
vaulted high and crisp
an untouched world
singing light and brilliant with wind-beat song.

January 20, 2015January 21, 2015

wild at heart

plugs in, player on
here I am, hearing a song
that sounds innocent
but would be rated R
celebrating consumption
of substances that have
no legal function
as it so sleekly does

and yet it’s not the lyrics
not the text itself, not what is sung

but the beat
the bass,
the melody
that brings me back
way back

back to those days when
we used to party hard
dance and sweat and dance some more
lights flashing
beats pumping
amps crackling
volume sky high
you heard the beat with your body
and felt the music with your heart

…

there was nothing but the music
coz rhythm was a dancer
and you had to let the music
push the feeling on
and those were just the popular ones

but we went deep down
into the sheds, the areas, the hidden bunkers
where the world was dark and light
filled with sick beats
intercepted with unbelievable strains
of perfect melodies
oh that drive
that drive to celebrate life

that’s what it does
this song that’s great
and kind o’ just wrong
it takes me back to that time
when you and me and all the others
danced in the dark
until we had to stop
we were simply exhausted
and so walked out
mildly shocked
to see the sun was out
and those other people
were actually living their lives
being offensively boring adults.

A sigh and a smile to that freedom
I can’t even describe
the joy, the exuberance
of celebrating that one thing
that would never stay forever
loving every second under the sun
needing nothing more than great music
to love our young lives
we were so achingly wild at heart.

child dancing nezartdesingdottumblrdotcom

January 19, 2015January 19, 2015

alma mater

strange to retrace
the steps you once took
eagerly expecting an eduction
and getting more, way more
than you first expected

not just the books bought
and the papers written
but the friends and heartbreak
the clandestine lovers
breaking up in furious tears and shouting
once discussed and inevitably discovered
yes, you two, I know who you are…

the novelties found
the loyalties broken
the real friends made
those many words said
and unspoken
in between and all around
the hours sitting, pouring, agonizing
studying, practicing, memorising
and finally, finally, understanding
all those things you’ll actually
– I guarantee you –
really need later on
in the big bad rest of the world
with its sharp fangs and cold snout

that wide open place where suddenly
being clueless is a country of its own
which you have a permanent visa for
coz it doesn’t get better, does it?
oh no, it gets so much more
like an effing sitcom

where time and again
you’re made to understand
the connection between bat excrement (urgh)
and fucking crazy, excuse my French
(why French anyway?)

and you know youth is not wasted on the young
it’s exactly what’s needed to get through it all
and not end up neurotic, eccentric,
not to mention unnecessarily high strung

oh, wait…
naw, it’s all good
it’s the simple fact that
now, years later
you’re no longer either one
or the other
you’re who you are:
still a kid and genuinely grown up.

January 4, 2015

imagine once

there is something in the silence of the clear lines,
the divine arches of the old orders, now long lost in time
where silver and marble, wheat, amber and gold
were the wealth of a few amongst many;
that time, once, so far away
celebrated today in lands of plenty
a time, once, where life was short, hardship unquestioned,
and the sweetness of solace a luxury felt to the core.

A time, yes, when fire was known for its ecstatic warmth,
the flames divine and terrible, their power
and presence felt too often on human skin and human soul;
a time, too, when water was the sword of truth
by which holiness was divined, though to drink it alone was unwise
unless in beer, ale, or wine;

that time where earth and air were powers that gave and took
that made and broke whole realms with wind and weather and storm,
by the droughts so dreaded, and crops finally growing,
the rains prayed for , the sun steadily glowing…

…can we, today, in our lands of plenty
imagine once, just once, what it meant to be, to live, back then
when time was sun and moon and stars,
legends holy and sung, the songs of praise whispered and hummed
over open fires, heating the cauldrons that fed all in house and hut,
after thanking with grace and gratitude
the great, the holy, the one clouds 1