Stage left

Those who have left

Stage right

And out of sight 

the Beautiful calligraphy 

Of their lives 

 Of ink on air, 

And wild fire 

And cold water. 

gentle memory  

Of earth dreams 

and half Remembered scenes 

Words and phrases 

Smiles and tears 

Inculcated into  

Regrets  

and simple Missing Speeches.

 All on stage 

And with them 

pursued stage left 

By bears

God killer

These

spiritual gymnastics 

The Christ talkers do

The logistics and linguistics

The complex reasons why.

Life as an escape room

A pain puzzle

Nature red in tooth

A murder of the meek

This in sense insensitive 

Finger pointing

Holy scent incense me - with

The greatest lie

The most horrific 

Heinous bloody lie

That anybody can

 know God.

The

nothing untruth.

dungeon master

 guess me if you can!

the reason is void

For this worlds injustices 

It is just that 

Cold cruelty

I will not play

Priest man! Your spiritual torture 

The god  killer. 

You do not speak for me or to me 

Or in me.

There is no intercession 

He made a dove and killed it.

And called this love!

Bay 3

You and I watched

Tiger Bay fall into the sun

Let it sink beyond the sea 

Where the salmon rivers run.

On the granite quay we stood

Side on side.

“Have I always been here

On this evening edge 

Holding farewell hands

with you?”

I thought but said

“God is long time dead in me 

I am not of the chosen few,

I am my own weakness

My own dim light 

my own shadow blocks my view”

Looking down 

You sighed, 

having heard it all before

“All things must fall 

The bottom must drop out

The whole cannot hold!”

you thought but said

“Ahh my dear 

My tea’s gone cold.”

And poured a libation

Into the dock

Reality is too short to kiss I thought

But said instead

“Do you believe there is 

anything that can truly set you free?”

You answered, “obviously 

I live in hope and you?”

I looked inside myself 

and left the lie to bleed in ‘yes’

Right there on the stones

I left empty headed 

My ship sailed 

No salient point

No seal kissed

The bay 

Transubstantiated

Bay 2

You and I watched

Tiger Bay fall into the sun

Let it sink beyond the sea 

We witnessed the salmon tide run.

“Have I always been here

On this evening shore 

Holding farewell hands

with you?”

I thought but said

“God is long time dead in me 

I am not of the chosen few,

I am my own weakness

My own dim light 

my own shadow blocks my view”

Looking down 

You sighed, having heard it all before

“All things must fall 

The bottom must drop out

The whole cannot hold!”

you thought but said

“Ahh my dear 

My tea’s gone cold.”

And poured it into the water.

Reality is too short to kiss I thought

But said instead

“Do you believe there is 

anything that can truly set you free?”

You answered, “obviously 

I live in hope and you?”

I looked inside myself 

and left the lie to bleed in yes

Right there on the stones

I left empty headed 

No seal was kissed

The bay had faded

Light

Radiance shimmer

blood rose moon rise

illuminating 

The damasked land 

a memory of lost 

mercury light

Reflected silver 

Deflected mind 

perception poured

Into Internal folds of fields 

farms, hedge, woodland

Streams and badger bolt

A deep eternal hallow,

a frequency of thought

A  softing force 

a slow out flow 

falling dream

Like baited breath and owl

Swoop, bat shadow swift, 

And Haunted screams

I miles from home

Mountain tracked

Remote and far gone

In rolling hills

And mountain 

Cradle rocked 

fallen in darkness

Create the image, 

of your sun rising in my soul

Special k

Special k.

It’s been a long long winters day

I’ve been a long long way away

Driving but not arriving home

Always passing others days

Others weeks and others ways

I am the stranger  in the rain

Passenger on the train

Standing by the doors 

shadow in others hours

Distain of the middle class

background artist to others lives.

They glance and look away and

at a road side café 

between 

Coffee cups and sausage rolls

Half Empty plates and wasted trays

I’m the passer by in their eyes

I am memory grey 

the shadow in their story

gods own people

The perfect people

Narrating my own narrative 

never really here. Never really me

Never really coming home

witnessing them witness me

But standing apart 

alone

Blitz mood

Shadows are coming 

rumbling under clouds

Like insidious blitz artillery 

Aimed 

 at my invidious existence 

When the grief flows thick 

and razor under my skin

And I brooding

Bleed Bloody and thunder thoughts

Brewing foul teas and potions.

Looking at others happiness 

And deeply grieve 

Stewing resentment at

my loses

The big guns of envy blast

A half beating beaten heart

I Have wounded me with

Myself

The wreck of my attachment  

I must be my own surgeon 

And counsellor and priest and lover.

I Elder me myself 

I am from the  gutter

I will not surrender 

but 

Rage at the alter of a long dead god.

Rebirthed in every second 

In my breath and tears 

Every shudder and shiver 

In utter defiance 

It is in every syllable 

I utter and the silence I mother.