Ramblings of a Disorientated Mind

Warning, rating 15. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Standing in the moonlight,
softly soothing my pain.
Standing under the waterfall,
washing my tears away.
Sitting naked by the fire,
warm tendrils caress my body.

Cut out my heart and tell me,
has it turned to stone?
Stone does not feel.
Stone does not beat.
Is, then, my heart a stone?

Black and cold quartz,
shining painfully in the starlight.
Take it Love.
I have no need of it any more,
drifting in the grey dawn.

Fuck me Love,
let me feel your body once more.
Kill me Love,
let my presence injure you no more.
Take my heart of quartz,
and shatter it.

Maybe among the broken shards you will find the bit left aside for you.

☮&♥

Twisting and turning,
inexorably linked
forever in this cosmic struggle.

Hate and love,
white and black;
Polar opposites in the extreme.
Forever drawn together
but
forever repelled from each other.

Contradiction eternal

To Andy

☮&♥

I think that I am special.

I play RPGs with amazing characters,
I write crappy poems and stories
in an effort to feel special.

I say I am open minded,
tolerant and enlightened.
I debate how to set the world right
to make myself seem special.

But I am plain, ordinary, mundane.
Normal.
Walking along in life, like everyone else,
trying to delude myself that I am special.

I will never be interesting,
never be published,
never change the world.
I am not that special.

☮&♥

‘Hush’, said the sea
as she danced into night
over the rocks of the bay
‘Watch for me turning,
watch me returning
upon the light of day.’

☮&♥

I am an island,
floating on the open sea.
I am an electron,
small and far away,
I am in the cold of vacuum space,
with nothing to support me

And then I wake,
to find you watching me,
as I lay curled in a big chair,
bathed by the warmth of the fire.

☮&♥

“I can’t do this” She cried aloud
“I must be the worst poet ever!”
and ran into my arms.
I hushed and tsked,
and gently told her,
“Poetry is easy!

“Any fool can be a poet,
to a greater or lesser extent.
We all can feel, can sense,
can recognise beauty where it lies.
All it takes is an ounce of inspiration,
and maybe a dictionary.

“Poetry is just about the easiest thing to do,
and anything is subject to the poets hand,
from drunken vomit
to the most sacred of sunrises.

“Now off you go,
and write some more,
and it will come in time.”
And thus with that, she scampered off,
her muse there to find.

☮&♥

And so I sit here; cold and feeling most alone.
Strangely comforting to me though,
as I rest here,
my head on my arms on my desk,
is the hum and wirr of my computer,
it’s soft radiance falling,
       like a gentle hand,
upon my head.

☮&♥

Open your eyes!
Tell me what you see.

I see trees, road, people.
Nothing more.

Open your eyes!
Look further, deeper, harder,
and tell me what you see.

I see broad limbed Oak and choking Ivy;
Beech with trunk like silver
and a badger set at its roots.

I see light glistening from rain slicked tarmac;
traffic lights like jewels
and forgotten toys in a garden.

I see old men bowed and weary;
distraught mother with squalling child;
youth with eyes shining like lamps in a dark night to a traveler lost and alone.

Now tell me, what have you learnt?

Nothing.

Really?
Then why couldn’t you answer to my satisfaction the first time?
Child, I have taught you to see again.

☮&♥

Shut your eyes, lift up your head, hold your hands before you.
Feel your power coiling deep inside.
Gently, gently, lift its restraints, and let it flow free.
Feel your power, see it; crimson, sapphire, malachite
flowing through your veins.

Your hands are it’s conduit,
guide your power to them,
feel the warmth it brings.
Focus!
Focus…

Push the power to your waiting fingertips,
and let it slide free
to the waiting world.

Spell cast.

Thursday 29th April 2004, 16:23

☮&♥

Topaz eyes over a glittering pool;
beautiful soothsayer.
Entrenched in darkness the scryer sighs,
to the skittering of unseen beasts.

What has come before? What will come henceforth?

Give unto the black waters, scryer,
give unto the smoke and shaman’s chant.
Give unto the voodoo witch’s magic, scryer
give up of thine self.

Travel to the world of tomorrow,
retreat to times gone by,
flee the word of today.

Supplicant thine self,
scryer,
all to better see.

☮&♥