Vibrant, joyful, despairing, truthful, meloncholy... a reflection of The Human Condition
This collection of poetry hovers around the shadows of melancholy, occasionally rising to joy, often falling to darkness. It is an intimate study of the frailties of life, the human condition. Symbolically, the passage of time is explored, from: Sunrise, Morning, Later, Dusk and Night. A day's passing, echoing the movement of life through time, questioning; what unites us, in meaning and experience, as our days pass, life ruthlessly ticking away; how does this modern existence relate to the natural world around us?
Excerpt
From Chapter Two - Morning
Look Into The Sun
They tell you “never look into the sun”
Well, they told me, but I always have
And always will
I don’t see the entire disc
But I get a sense of the pale yellow centre
The golden corona, and a glistening silver lining
Seemingly like a watery film splitting the light
Casting rainbows, across what is so much like
The ridges and valleys of a cherrystone clam
These are intercepted by, what I conclude are
My eyelashes - long, bleached by nature
A veil, which I attest, shields and protects me
Such a fine palette of sensations
Cannot be achieved by simply casting a glance
Or looking through a pinhole cut in card
No, to really know the Sun
You have to look into the Sun
Even if that means your eyes will burn
No one can truly know a thing
Unless they suffer the pain of that thing
And so, I will often look to the horizon
At dawn, at dusk, I know what it is to feel
A life ending and a new life to begin
I look into the Sun
***
From Chapter Four - Dusk
Progress
It is a time of caged burnings
Beheadings, and rape as punishment
It is our time
It is a time of assassinated innocence
Superiority, and freedom as fiction
It is our time
It is a time of the righteous right
The virtuous left, and politics as a joke
It is our time
It is a godless time full of Gods
Murder, and religion as justification
It is our time
It is a time of celebrity causes
Sound-bites, and conscience as tax relief
It is our time
It is a time of moral bankruptcy
Toxic debt, and trade as slavery
It is our time
It is a time like no other time that has gone before
No, that is a lie –
It is a time of true propaganda
Of history, and dogma as education
It is our time
It is all time
It is all our time
***
From Chapter Five - Night
Awaken
There has been a blankness of late, ennui
Days pass without change, an unwanted stasis
Threats go unrealised, challenges are void
New conversations are tired old small talk
The giving and receiving of love is nonchalant and mundane
A warm staleness fills my eyes
This lull, it seems, has but one purpose
Putting the living to sleep
The cooling breeze skips the river
Bouncing upon the rippling, reflecting water
It rounds the bend, flutters the leaves of the trees
Tousles and caresses the long grey hair of the poet
It pushes the pen to the paper, thoughts to the pen
It fills my eyes and ears with cold freshness
This breeze, it seems, has but one purpose
Rousing the dead
The kiss, unexpected, in greeting, stirs a tender memory
Reminds me of us, she takes my hand, smiles, laughs
There is talk of new life, a child, born to a son
A person who was not there before, a new generation
An emergent soul opening the door to a new day
My eyes reflect the sun and the moon
This warmth, it seems, has but one purpose
Answering the question “Why?”
The songs and art in this book are about our collective emergence after the pandemic and trauma of the last few years - comprised of 5 collections: World as Refuge, Where We Live, In Our Hands, Rhythms of Change and What We See & Sow.
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
BEFORE DARKNESS FALLS Retails for 14.95 / but you can have it now for only 11.95 This is a book of poetry and prose that deals with real life issues that all of mankind comes to face. Some of the poems deal with the tenderness of love, while others s
