The old nameless sage
Walks past a summer garden
Halts at a blocked road
Heading inwards
Category: Poem
Bored
My ear to a conch
Listening for a heartbeat
The twisting dust
And dry leaves
Water lily
A wave with no horizon and no shore,
the water lilies turn and shudder in the tide
blooming behind the mirrors edge
Flower pot
New buds emerging
A shadow over the Buddhas face
The birds sing over drying petals
Ocean waves in the wind
Mountain Top
I am sitting here like patience on a mountain
White clouds for wings, a shadow over mountaineers
In distant view green, grey- valleys and wastelands
The seasons mean nothing to the unmoving
The echoes can hear you, the world is so self involved,
They will no longer speak to you
Dry day
A cloud hangs low over the plains,
tilled land broken dry, in the bare sun
The cloud is low, lower, so close
as though the earth drew breath in cold dry air
The mist, turns to breeze, passing
sweat on skin, turning droplets,
trails of sweat into ice, biting and unbearable
Moon water
Rain water catches the moonlight
Like a snail trail across cold brick
Scattered bees wings, dropped
Floating abandoned over puddles
Labyrinth
The Phantom roar of an ancient ocean tide
A storm raging on the sun,
Annihilation a billion light years away
Roaring Helios, Titan unfettered, alien and distant
Unfathomable might, reins past mortal mind
Cestial symphony, groaning giant
If you spoke shattered sound would echo
Over the nine fixed powers,
A turn of your face-
Apollo, light bringer, purifier of rituals
Prophet, appear before closed eyes
Drawing down revaluations
Silver thread in the dreamy path
Float past the dark unknown
Idol meditations
Quiet and unmoving figure in shadowy sanctuary
Heavy in cement, garish colours and mass produced worship
Your arms wide, open and embracing the slums and towers
The misery, noisy and desperate incantations- calculus for virtue
Hungry in extravagant prayer, furious in all encompassing faith
Harder and colder in steely indifference, gold hearted over empty stomachs
Adorned, lavished, ancient and praised amongst aching limbs and inner torment
Before you we fearfully fold in submission, for you may be muted,
But the devil’s voice is always echoed, among spectral nations and monstrous profit
Blood drinking machines and ciphers in our souls
Autumn river
A day of autumn
Straying dreams
The river one dark line
How free the wind
