Stacked

Tags

art, Cards, creative, Gambling, Judgement, Money, poems, poetry, politics, Power, Privilege, Stacked, verse, writing

The dice were loaded from the start

Lauding profit over art,

And power came to those whose names

Resonated with the vain.

The cards were dealt but some kept back

For those perceived above the pack,

And we all watched their chips stack high

Left to sit and ponder why.

The judgement that was promised us

Despite the silence and the fuss,

Faded out like winter days

Left us shrouded in the haze.

And those who sought a better home

Crushed in corners all alone,

Seeing now the game was framed

By faces that belied no shame.

Hide and Seek

Tags

Communication, creative, Fear, Hjdecand Seek, loss, Love, Mask, poems, poetry, Self-preservation, verse, writing

Waiting for the day

Waiting for you

To reach out and touch me

And never to let go,

Waiting for the moment

The veil will fall

I’ll tear the curtain down

And show it all to you, 

Horizons fade away

The dying light

And cloaks drawn tight once more

To hide myself from you.

Nosegay

Tags

Change, creative, Domination, Entitlement, poems, poetry, Power, verse, Wealth, writing

So here we are

And after all these years

What we have learned

Lies decaying like the leaves

We trod beneath our feet

On Autumn’s final days

And all the rise

And all the fall

Belied the change that never came

And nosegay scents still rise above.

Absurd

Tags

Absurd, creative, poems, poetry, verse, writing

Absurd the way we shuffle

The cards that play our lives,

And draw a meaning in the clouds

Then slice it with our knives.

Careless how we let them slip

These things we prize the least,

Believing of the lies that fit

We give reins to the beast.

Absurd the race we covet

Steadfast we know no bend,

Absurd the hollow trophy yet

Relentless to the end.

Reals and Ghosts

Tags

Change, creative, Depression, Ghosts, hope, lyrics, poems, poetry, verse, writing

All the reals and all the ghosts

The loudest singing

Won the most,

Pictures hanging in the air

Still cover up each

Jagged tear.

You scream and cry

And watch it die,

And feel the sand

Drain through your hands,

And pray that there

Is one more day,

Just one more chance

To turn your dance,

You ask me why

The crows still fly,

As if their black

Was some way back,

To everything

We used to sing,

With eyes of hope

Before the joke,

All the reals and all the ghosts

The loudest singing

Won the most,

Pictures hanging in the air

Still cover up each

Jagged tear.

Footsteps

Tags

Communication, Control, creative, Fear, Footsteps, poems, poetry, verse, writing

My footsteps rang against the stone

As I walked past disdainful stare,

Your eyes upon me from your door

Mocking lips and murderous glare.

The sound that echoed down the halls

Served only as a footnote cold,

An image which you thought you saw

Words that once you had been told.

A fairy tale in all its pain

A warning for you not to stray,

But stay behind the safety rail

And keep the pleasure wolves at bay.

The distance that will keep you safe

Imagine treasures mine to lose,

As jealously you criticise

Still dream your feet within my shoes.

Small Provincial Station

Tags

Communication, Connection, creative, Crossroads, friendship, loss, Love, poems, poetry, Small Provincial Station, spirit, Strangers, Trains, verse, writing

We met when we were strangers

On platforms changing trains

Time would never be the same

No season spoke the dangers,

Our faces wore expressions

Of kindred spirit found

Our voices made no sound

No doubts and no transgressions,

We stood aside the crossroad

And looked along each way

Hoping for another day

To break the secret code,

We met when we were strangers

On platforms changing trains 

But I could feel the hurt and reins

Beneath my feet the dangers,

We met when we were strangers 

But I knew even then

That I was nothing more

Than a small

Provincial

Station.

Waiting

Tags

creative, inspiration, loss, poems, poetry, Promises, Signs, verse, Voices, Wiating, writing

Waiting.

Waiting, waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting for the reward,

The prize that lingers

Beyond the next corner,

Behind the door.

Waiting for the call,

The voice of the heart,

Calling from the darkness,

Promises of more.

Waiting for the movement,

The sign for us to go,

A motion from outside,

The silent, secret law.

Waiting for the floor,

To open up beneath,

To feel its welcome breath,

The silence of its roar.

Waiting for the angels,

To spread their wings around,

Reveal a their wonders,

And open up the door.

Waiting. 

Waiting, waiting.

Waiting. 

Silent Flight

Tags

Birds, creative, Escape, hope, inspiration, poems, poetry, Silent Flight, sky, verse, writing

Silent the birds fly

Their dappled bodies blackened

In silhouette

Against the cold air

As they weave their way

Through the blue,

Through the white,

Like counters on a board

Searching for the draught 

That will pull them through

Lift them up

To soar,

Silent beaks and

Silent wings

Their presence lost amongst the flock

Awareness isn’t theirs

To be lost and found within the fold

To hold eternity in the beat

Of a wing

Or a prayer

As they glide-mark the sky

Trailing blue,

Trailing white,

In their wake.

Letters of Love

Tags

creative, hope, Letters, Letters of Love, loss, Love, nostalgia, poems, poetry, Seasons, time, verse, winter, writing

He knew that Winter was coming,

Felt its ice-brushed roots

Wrap themselves around his thoughts

And choke the words

As they hung

Like swinging men

In his throat,

Remembered then

The invincible spring

That offered him

Letters of love 

Through the mail

Which fell at his feet like kisses

Pirouetted on their toes and wove

Themselves into words 

Which danced in his head

Then tumbled in passages that came

From who knew where,

The Summer when his passion

Turned thoughts like cartwheels

A windmill grinding

Gathered up things he’d never seen

And lay them like a lamb on the page

At his feet

Like a sacrifice 

Of sorts,

The surety of Autumn’s voice

As it echoed through the caverns

Emptied now

Not driven by desire or need,

The comfort of the leaves

And the colours that they spread

Beneath his feet

Within his heart

As the doors behind him slowly closed,

He knew that Winter was coming.