Poet

PUBLISHED by CRAIG. A. GASCOIGNE

Copyright – CRAIG. A. GASCOIGNE. 1998.
This book is subject to all rules and regulations No portion of this book of the copyright act may be reproduced in any way, using any process, without the specific written consent of the author.

1’d just like to send a big thanks to everything.
For without everything, there would be no thing, and
if that were the case then I would never write the word
that you have given to me, so that we may see the
truth that lies between us all as one and so I say
thank you.

This book has no more understanding than that of which
you find within yourself, but to search with love and
patience will quite likely bring you what you need.
For in truth we have so little to learn and so much time to
learn it. So relax, it’s only life.

This life, that is a song of flight, for you are the
pilot and you are the plane. The wind is your hair and
the sun, your sight, to observe yourself as you truly
are that.

WHO DO YOU LOVE?

These poems have been bought to us by our deep self,
To lead us to that.
The more I look into myself through them,
The closer to I, shall I become.

MIRROR

Lost I am, away to some so distant and yet,
unforgotten land.
So grand to stand amidst the love of it ‘s
– so soft
and gentle hand.
A love like dove with nare the glove to block, nor
blow,
No knife to hoe, the backs of others, we call lovers,
Just because we get it right at night?
No cross to bare, or life to share,
Just flowing with eternal bliss of all, and one,
The moon and sun, no knife or gun are needed when
Love’s seeded deep within your true, and honest self.

Not on the shelf, or over wealth, will plague you if
you just cast out the mire of who is right and wrong.
Who led you on, who sang the song,
Who told you who is good and who is bad?
So sad to see that what I see in others,
Is what others almost always, see in me.
We will always judge others, whilst ever we judge
ourselves. Judgement is for those who cannot forgive
themselves.

If you ever committed a wrong,
Who is there to judge you but you?
And who is there to punish you, but you?
So who is there to forgive YOU, but you?

THE CHOICE IS YOURS

Make it, don’t break it, don’t chew on the spew of what
you know is true.
Don’t question the answer, when the riddle is life.
More hype, more tripe, christ this life is getting ripe.
On the nose I suppose, so who cares where it goes?
It’s all up and down when your living in town,
And the neighbours are heat, when you live on the street.

There must be a way I can make every day,
So happy, not grey, not filled with dismay,
Still more bills to pay, the mortal decay,
Hangman on his way, what more can I say?

Now
I am now.
Nothing else, just that.
And in being now, I am truth.
For the truth of I amness, is now.
How can there be all else but – now?
simply because nothing else exists.

What I was, is just a memory.
What I will be, is just a dream.
What I am now, is just the way.

To live in your past, makes your past your future.
To live in the now, brings your future and your past,
to the present.
Don’t be afraid of your past,
It’s what bought you to your present self.
Remember, life is a gift of learning.
Not a battle with endurance.
So skip down the path of life, and enjoy.

If you ‘re not happy with your present self,
Then there’s something you don’t know, or have
forgotten !
And that is, (The choice is yours).

Calming – charming – bringing me down.
Back to the earth, down to the ground.
Back to myself where I once used to dwell,
Back to my heaven, back to my hell.

Back to the place where there’s no right or wrong,
Back to my home, back to where I belong, back to me.
For from thee I can see, a clear way to be,
Like the bird and the bee, who’s life’s dance is glee,
In true harmony, the one ecstasy, just to be.

In being there is no problem,
In doing there is no rest.

To still the troubled and oppressed mind, we must
cease all doing, and become the world – of that which
we are, – right now.

In the knowledge, that I am, my world and I become
the one, that has always been.

THE GLOW OF LIFE

He stood as fire, the glow of life it’s very self.
With no real wealth and no good health.
For dead he was and dead he’ll be,
This monstrous stock of iron bark tree, so gant.
He’d heard the chant and felt it go, the toll of time,
So quick, so slow, so still.

So worn and wise to his demise and still so staunch,
His figure haunts me as I write this very tale.
So pale – and gaunt was he, that I could see
the blood red wood, within this tree.

The like that’s forged by God ‘s own hand,
Of which he stands astride, to sweat upon it
Blood red pearls, of life.

As axe sunk in, it made a ring, of steel on steel,
It would not yield, and echoed cries from field to
field,
Came bounding back, to meet the crack, as metal
sparked metal,
For time and time again, in great defend – it would
not end,
Or bend from this horrendous fend, of two determined
foe, and friend.
And then with such a painful crack,
It screamed as weapon smashed it’s back .
I stepped away, to watch my prey,
Come rolling down upon the ground,
With one almighty thunderous pound.

And lay at rest, it done the best,
And past the test, it’s natural quest.
Of which it had been paid, in full.

For all who start, must find the heart,
The life’s true part, to cart, or carry,
Lunge or parry.
Down this rocky road, of time – and tide.

These words have been bought to us by our deep self.
So that in this, we may fly to the heavens, in
ecstasy of life’s true longing for it’s self. As one.
Though I may write the word, it was but a gift from
you all. So that together, we may stand naked in the
light of that which we truly are.
For this gift, I thank YOU. That I might be yet a
small creek, that leads to the boundless shores of
the river of life. And who’s current, may carry us,
one and all, to the ocean of eternity. The wonder,
that is……

THE PROCESS

The bubbling cauldron taketh hold of what it can,
And bares it precious, to it’s very breast.
It takes no rest, and gouges at the fruit of those
who dare,
To face the test of life, of time, of tide.
And swallows those who undisposed, were never match
for her.
But as you open wide from side to side,
She sings for joy, of those so coy to try.
The one’s who fly, conceding to her power, with
unrelenting grace.
But those who cannot take the pace,
Sure have no place, within her cold embrace.
Without a care she takes you there,
With no remorse, life takes it’s course.
The rollings never cease, or doth release
With mind so pallid – and you, so wholly rich.
In life’s true longing for it’s self,
It takes you from the shelf.

The critical is often the criticised.
The like’s as these are usually their own worst enemy.
Yet, they are a blessing and a teacher,
To the one with an empty cup and an open heart.

I HATE HIPPIES

Im a Queensland nationalist and I hate hippies.
Those wimpy little Gympie lovers, almost make me sick.
Those poofy little flower children, dancing
round with daisy chains on,
Never give a thought about what poor mum might think.
And crickies mate believe it, don’t these little
buggers stink.

I hate hippies.

They tie themselves to trees and bushes,
Trying to save the world from humans!
Twist their arms and grab their hair and throw
them in the van.
They say we’re cutting all the trees down.
Destroying the earth, well so they reckon.
Killing the air and polluting the sea,
Sounds like a whole lot of bull dust to me.

Oh, I hate hippies.

With their pretty coloured incense holders,
Canvass bags slung cross their shoulders.
Im sure the bastards never bath,
But still, I s’pose you have to laugh.
They always seem quite happy,
Though to me they seem a bit sappy.
But they don’t do much wrong,
Sept’ for smoking those bongs .
Maybe that’s why their laughing,
And singing love songs.

No, I hate hippies.

To understand our true self,
We must first see through the hatred and anger of others.
We must feel the whole move within us and know that
their anger and hatred,
Is life’s longing for itself.
Within them.

You shan’t love all else,
Until at first you love yourself.

THE HIPPIES RETURN

I LOVE LIFE!
I love this world, it’s so divine,
I smoke the jay but don’t drink wine.
I roll it back and take it smooth,
I keep it falling in the groove. That’s life.

Don’t hassle me man, I can’t take the pace.
Disowned all this shit that you call human race.
So get off my head mate, get out of my face.
I’m too whacked for your bullshit.

Cause I know what your doing and I think that it’s wrong,
For the poor folk in houses you just sing a song,
And say, “it’s alright, we know what we’re doing”.
But you don’t give a stuff what your doing at all,
As long as money’s coming in, you think you’ll never
fall.
But the times come for all of us, and money wont buy
life.

So you’d best get you re act together mate,
Cause judgement day is soon.
And nature’s soft and tender hand
Is coming with the broom,
To sweep out all the rough heads,
And so I think she should.

God knows the intentions of our hearts,
He knows the bad and good.
He knows the things that we’ve all done,
And hoped we never would.
But life begins right now mate,
And forgiveness starts within.
So forgive all your sins and forget all your strife,
Believe in yourself and it will be alright.
But love life mate,
Love life for it’s self.

So where do we go from here?
There may have been a few things so far that you
did not like or thought were wrong. Well, if you
think anything in this world, that you are, is wrong,
or right, then maybe your not reading the book that
you thought you were. Maybe you’re after the bible, or
some other scriptive book with good guy’s and bad guy’s.
Have you ever noticed that the good guys almost
always win.
Funny that, isn’t it!
Look, if you have a problem in life, it’s your
problem, not life’s.
You created it, YOU took it on and now you carry it.
You choose to be the martyr.
Well, good on you mate, for while you drown, others
fly.
It’s the balance that is.

If you need to believe,
believe in life.
Believe in the self.
Have faith in that,
And only then, will the
truth in the knowing –
Shine over you.

I don’t want you to believe anything written in
this book. I don’t know what ‘s going down any more
than YOU do. But hell, who gives a rat’s arse
anyway.
I personally try not to believe very much of
anything.
Through writing poems, of which (I feel) are
a gift from you all, I have found a truth within
them, that has awakened a truth within me.
So for me, that is enough to enjoy.
I say don’t believe, but if you stop, and be still in
the now, you may just feel something move within
you.
Truth is not what someone said, truth is what you
have known since the dawn of creation, and beyond.
This, I feel within me.

DOUBT

Lost in this material world,
I saw that I was spirit.
And so, I thought to ask, for what’s
The reason I am here.
But who am I, to ask a question
Only a spirit can answer
In this, I thought I ‘de ask myself
But how can a question, with no answer,
Be a question, at all?…

All questions asked are answered
By an open mind set free in time.

So are we confused?
Yes, good. Being confused in this way, is a great
beginning of the letting go process.
Letting go of what we’ve been told is true. To cast
out perception, bred through belief and to see life
as it’s self in reality, within you.

To let go of our oppressions, we must wish for
nothing more than what you are right now.
You must want to do nothing more than give yourself
to the self. You cannot wish for personal gain.
Life is a giving process, not a taking.

If you can find this within you, then you will gain
in the wealth of knowing, and of the happiness in that.
Of a quite calm mind, and of love – the energy that
is, the whole.
If I must instill myself to the self, then I should
do this with joy. The joy of knowing that I, am this.
My world is what I see, and I am that. So in that,
my beauty is limited by what I see within my world.
If my sight is clouded by my woes of the past, or
desires of the future, I will never see the true
beauty of that which I am – right now, move freely
in the whole.
Remember, we are our world with all it’s colour
and beauty.
You are that – right now.

LOVE

It’s flying through the inner world, of all and
nothing, happily scuffling down this pebbly path of
which I trek.

SO what the heck, just coyly trudging on, I sing a
song, with all of whom I meet along the street – as
day goes in and night comes out, don’t shout!
I’ll work it out, just give me time to make a rhyme
of what is going down, right here, right now.
And how to plough through shit that I don’t know or
owe, so who’s to go and judge me on the crud they see
within their own sad life.

They take the knife and stick it where it fit’s
and where it don’t But I choose to vote for letting
them do what their hearts’ desire.

For when transpired, the one who has been right
within himself, will feel the wealth of life and
truth then flow within, within.

And make of him, the lighter being, you are seeing,
every time YOU look into a mirror and smile. Get off
your dial, do whatever it takes in life to laugh.

To bath in love and wonder, is to take me under,
drown me in my love of life, no trouble or strife, to
cut me down again. Amen

Love is but –
The crest of our being
The depth of our knowing
The truth in our longing
And the self, that encumbers
Us all.

In love there is no judgement, all is equal.
The bird, to the tree.
The brother, to the sister.
You, to me.
All as one true self, love the infinite.

THE SOCIAL LADDER

Caged by the insanity, of this depraved humanity,
profanity, calamity, copulating till they burst.
Bumbling and fumbling, they stumble on all grumbling,
This life’s not getting better mate, this one’s just
the worst
Wanting they ‘re all stomping, while on bits they are
all chomping, in desires they ‘re all romping, taking
all with no return.
Grabbing as they’re stabbing backs, of friends they
are all jabbing, climbing higher up the social steps,
with eye’s shut not to learn.
Caring not, they’re staring lots, at those with all
the fairy floss. Thinking they can get there too, just
cut another throat.
Looking round, they all fall down, they land so heavy
on the ground.
They’re up the creek, without an oar – in a leaky
bloodstained boat.

I remember reading in some old book
It said,

Do unto others
As you would have others
Do unto you.

I try to live my life in that light.

Happiness relies on your goodness in yourself.
If I treat everyone the way i would have them treat me,
then I have no guilt. I have done no wrong.
Yet, if they do not treat me in this same light, I
should not judge them or treat them wrongly.
Rather, I should stand above their sorrow, and instill
them with the happiness, of which I am.
It is you alone who decides what’s wrong or right.

JUDGEMENT

I took it, and they came to take it back.
But that was not the last they came to take.
They savaged at me, tearing me apart from deep wi thin.
And take what they care to carry.
Leaving me with naught, an empty tin.

To pits of hell I sunk, a withered hunk of nothing
but what first I came to load.
This carcass, void of all, a hollowed bildge,
So empty, and yet still – so hard to cart –
Along this often rough and weary road.

But in time, I stopped to find,
That honesty, was all that I could take.
No more the fake, could I endure
Taking all, and leaving none behind.

The sun doth shine, and leads me to the light
That comes so bright, and guides us toward a truer
path to thee
So I might see, and find in that,
A better way to be.

It is you alone that creates desire within you.
Hence, it is you alone, who quells that same
foreboding foe.
In desire the seed of greed is watered, as to sprout
and flourish – to encompass all about me, so that I
may never taste the truth, that dwells within me.

But if I come to nip desire in the bud, and tear
it’s roots from in my very being, I find the path
is clear for all to see, and thus do I become the
road to thee in me.

HONEST T

I am the only torment in my life.
With thrashing knife, I slash me well, from hell to hell,
To break the spell, of what I am inside.

The two collide, that’s light and dark.
They tear me up and leave me stark.
They hit the heart, the mortal part,
And lend it to the splattered craft of life.

Both hate and spite,
But in the light, you may find flight as well.
So who can tell, just take you ‘re chance and do the
dance.
The true romance, enhance the lance of love.

The lord above, below you and all round from side to
side,
No need to hide, our gift is but to give from deep
within.
The mortal sin in life is just to live in love’s desire,
The sexual fire.

But finding how to flow within yourself,
The truest wealth,
Is essence in it’s full entirety
And where I’ll be,
When I can find the honesty, in me.

 

In my honest self, I am truth. Yet honesty, and truth,
are not the same. Honesty is what I am, and truth, is
what I find within that.
The true path is found in your honesty to yourself.
Honesty is governed by the mind. Truth, by the spirit.
It is your responsibility to the mind, to feed it wholly
with honesty, if your only wish in life, is to find
the truth, within the way.
In the light of our
true self,
Darkness cannot prevail.

You are the darkness within. Your intent takes you
wherever it wants to go.
If your intent is only for the benefit of the whole,
the deep self, then your life will be beautiful in that.
Remember, you are the deep self, in reality.

HERE

The demons of my nights, come creeping creeping,
while Im sleeping, up to candle lights.
And jump me, while I’m undisposed, to tear and scare
me into places, that I do not want to go.
They herd me up, and fill my cup – with murder,
mayhem, night and a.m.
Dribbling on with crap I do not need to hear, or
fear, for it is clear, that they are only ever there,
Whilst I’m not here.

There is a start, and a finish, and it begins right
here, and ends right now. I choose where I’ll be.
With the demons, or in the now.
In the now, I have oneness with the whole. I become
my world, and in that, become the truth in the way.
I have no question. I am, that I am.
That is all.

Every question I ever have, dwells within.
Before I can come to see the beauty of the true self,
I must first stand above the oppressions of the
physical being.
I must see that greed, anger, hatred and sorrow, are
obstacles that have been placed in my path, only to
hold me down, to inhibit me, and keep me from seeing
the truth within. In my distaste of what I have been
led to believe, I may never feel the true beauty of
that which I am, flow freely as the one.

I am the demons within me.
I decide what it is, that I am prepared to face in
myself.
My demons are my oppressions, things that have
occurred in my life, which I cannot, rather, will not
accept as being part of me.
If it happened to me, then it is part of me.
Part of my path, of my learning, and in that, part
of the beauty that is the way.
Most of us would rather remember the beautiful
times in our lives, and pretend that the horror did
not exist. But it is the horror that we most need
to face in life.
To see it as it’s true self, and in that, find the truth
within you. It’s all in this learning, this life.
Life is only as good as you make it. You choose
your path, good or bad.
And if that’s hard to swallow, then there’s something
within you, that you don’t want to accept as being that.
YOU!

HESITATION

who hesitates is lost.
He falters and he pays the cost.
He never lets the course just run,
He’s always reaching for the gun.

He’s never sure just where he’s at,
He’s at the doorstep, on the mat.
With people walking over and round,
And he’s still lying on the ground.

But still, I’m sure if he could find,
A little faith, or peace of mind.
That he may find a road to take,
And then his life, just might be great.

FROZEN TIME

In the city filth and squalla,
Where the pigs all come to walla,
In obsessions, and desires
With not a scrap to waste.

They all gather round the gates of need,
But never think to plant the seed.
The future holds no salt here,
With their wants, they’re swallowed whole.

They can’t break this strangulation,
All bound by procrastination.
For they’re swimming in a pool of lust,
In which they all must drown.

JUNKI TOWN

I know a little town,
Where the folk all seem to frown,
Cause they ‘re trying to seem profound,
But in real their all just down.
And most, wear dreadlock crown,
In this place called Junki town

Yeh, they’re all walking down the street,
With lost hope they drag their feet,
Just look fort’ someone to meet,
Who might offer them a treat,
In Junki town.

 

Cause they’re all looking for a dollar,
Just to give their arms a squalla,
Though their bellies are all holla,
All chained to their habits collar,
In Junki town

And I sorrow for these girls and boys,
With so much horror and no real joys,
For these folk have no time for coys,
All busy playing with plastic toys,
In Junki town
We are the judge and jury in our life.
We decide where our priorities lie.

WHO AM I TO BE ME

Who am I, to write a poem of grieving, leaving,
seething with a plaint desire, of what it all should
be.
Of travelling down the awesome path, of life so gay
the die is cast, and we so sure from first to last,
go marching to the fray.
Who am I, to tell a tale of failing, wailing,
bailing out of this little boat, the vessel of my life.
In fort’ to find a truer me, to be happy, in harmony,
contentment in serenity, belay the flippant strife.

Who am I, to ring a rhyme of horror, squalla, colla,
tied around the neck of all who do not dare.
We wolla in our own desires, thinking ways to get
us higher, up the social steps of fire, that leads
us to the mud and myer, in real, we get nowhere.
Who am I, to do a bit on loving, hugging, flooding
in eternal bliss of what I really am.
No biting fighting in the night, no hurting others
in cruel spite, just dancing in eternal light, that
wondrous glow in spirit flight.
I do the best I can.

My best
Is all I can ever do.
And you decide what’s best
for you.

My way of life determines who I am.
I know my faults, so I do what I can.
To face them in whatever way I see.
To bring me closer, to this bloke called me.

I know I ‘m not as tough as I make out.
But still I ‘m tough enough to face the bout.
To pin up all my demons on the wall.
And one by one, I watch the bastards fall.

I’ll feel the happiness flowing over me.
As one by one, I drop them, 1 ike a tree.
And thank the Lord for good things yet to come,
A crescent moon, the stars, or setting sun.

Cause facing up to what I have to know.
Is finding me, another place to go.
Cast out among the heavens in delight.
I flow among the purest golden light.

For when I have been good within myself.
I know my love wont leave me on the shelf.
To flow into the ecstasy on high.
To spread my wings in life – and come to fly.

Flight is a way of life
As life is a way of flight.
You are that.

AS ONE

Hampered by the pampered life,
I have no way to see the strife.
They say what’s right, that’s day, that’s night.
That’s you, that’s me, that’s dirt, that’s tree –
That’s individuality, not an honest way to be.
It suits their way to make decree.
To be seperate, this humanity.

The individual is a curse,
It makes the grave, it holds the purse.
It keeps us seperate from the rest,
It lets us laugh and think we’re best.

But thinking is our only trait,
To think we’re good, to think we’re great.
To think all else is here for us,
Just come and take, forget the fuss.

In a world of greed we take more than our share,
Then we watch it all die, and we say that we care.
Though we don’t seem to care about nought but ourself
Just to gather our holdings, and accumulate wealth.

But wealth has no base when our lives cease to live,
So it’s time to let go of all greed, and just give.
For there is only one in this life that you see,
And that one is you, and that one is me.

And that one’s a horse, and that one’s a cow.
Yes, that one is us all, living free, in the now.
As one.

THE PLACE TO BE

The place to be, is you and me, in harmony.
To flow so free – life’s ecstasy
To skip along the creek, this world so deep, has
so much to reveal .
We role the spiel and laugh at what we’ve got,
A bag of snot, all dripping down our walls and floors
and doors .
We take the whore – and wed her for the best.
So fuck the rest, the individual stands above the lot.
Those bags of snot are coming thick and fast now
And I just don’t know how – I will ever make it through
this sordid shit.

This hellish pit, of individualistic look at me,
Hey!, come and see the sun shine out my arse –
Down on the grass, and light up all the world,
behind my back.
Out of my crack, to show the rest that when I think
I’m best,
I’m failing at the test, that individual attitudes
can bring.
The song they sing, to you and me – to stay happy,
They feed us with their rot, their bags of snot
Yet, I’m the one that takes it to my lip.
I savage it, and gouge myself with all I can desire.
I light the fire, and take it to myself, the
getters wealth.

But givers have a wealth for all to own.
Don’t point the bone, or go on with that crud, I’ll
have a hug
And float off to the sunset one, and all, no need
to crawl.
Our way is only flight, not wrong or right.
Our self is all we have so don’t get slack.
Get off your back, and pull your finger out –

Yeh, face the bout, cumon’ mate – lift your hope
and make a stand,
And give a hand, oh wondrous sole my friend.
They cannot see, the place to be, is you and me,
in harmony.
To flow so free – life’s ecstasy
Not complacency, individually, just the one true
we,
That’s the key.

Whilst ever we try to create the individual you as
a seperate being, we make ourselves seperate from the
true one self. You are a part of the true one self as
are all things that. We are one being, as one.
But in the way of your self appointed individuality,
the ego is created so as to allow YOU to stand above
the rest. To let you be your own seperate egotistical
self. Yet whilst this attitude is created and maintained
we shall never become the whole oneness that is the
true self.

The one reality that moves within us all.
If you think that you have your own reality, then
you are still living as a slave to the mind which
has no reality, but that with the whole.
That is, unless you choose to give it reality in
your own individuality the ego that you allow to be
created by you, choosing to have the mind, as your
ruler.

Remember, the mind is only a portion of the oneself,
not the whole ruler in your life.
Unless, you allow it to be that.

The lonely hawk flies high at the peak.
He eats not carrion, for as it falls,
It is bound to be smashed by the rocks.
Only at the top of the peak,
Is it it’s true self.
To find reality in life we must look
From whence it fell –
Not from where it lies.

To look and not see
Is to never have looked at all.

PEACE OF MIND

Peace of mind, peace of mind, Oh – where for art thou
peace of mind.
Confusion seems to be the host, the way of life today.
Unannounced, it plays the boast,
The mystic like a silent ghost.
And we so limp like soggy toast, go marching to the
fray.
Blinded by our ego’s bright,
So certain that we are so right.
We stumble forth with teeth clenched tight,
All so staunch prepared to fight, like puppies out
to play.
A clan of fools,
We build our tools,
To feed our young on poisoned grouls.
The demon drools at bloodied stools.
Whilst spirits all decay.

The power of one man, is the strength of us all.
The knowledge which has been within us since the
dawn of our being.
From the spark of awareness has – come a truth that
we, as one, belong to, revolve around and of which
this same one has always been, the slave and the
overseer, the ruler and the ruled.
The positive and the negative, the light and the dark.

So for this it is said, cast out your woes of the
flesh and of the blood. The mould of the fake, the
illusion that is pertained within the mind.

TRANSCENDENCE OF MAN

I met a friend who bought me to my devil self.
And in innocence I kissed him at the lip.
And though so cold, his passions told of mortal man,
Who do the best they can,
And battle on with pain so strong,
To tear at life and limb.

I smiled at him and then to laugh at this,
the aftermath.
Of we so gay who think we really have a say.
Destroyers of our own belief,
We make the wreath and tell the tale of earth so
frail.
And that we may construct our own demise.
To win the prize, as if we have the power to set
things right.
Change day to night, do whatever we like.
Conceited bunch of pricks we all must be.

I touched the hand of God,
And it was that – in me.

THE BLIND LEAD THE BLIND

I wonder if we blunder when there’s thunder?
With the senseless tramp of feet,
I hear sheep walk down the street.
In their hurried ways they bleat,
Like an endless line of meat.
Though their lives are not so neat,
These poor blind and senseless sheep.

They can only look the way they’re told,
And hence their lives become so cold.
All trained to follow not to be bold,
This city civil strangle hold.
Conform you sheep don’t break the mould,
You know you must do what you’re told.

From birth we are taught the toys are bought,
To lead us where they think we ought.
This blind onslaught is rarely caught,
Or fort’ , by we the hollowed gaunt.

But if by chance we come to dance,
And find true love, the real romance.
That fainted glance of life’s enhance,
Then life on earth would sure advance.
No end.

We have no physical power over our world. Yet, as
the demise of this planet and its inhabitants seems
imminent, we do posses a power like never before –
and that power is the knowledge of futility in desire.
We’ve seen man come from horse and cart, to walking
on the moon. From paper and quill, to the silicon
chip, and all this in less than one century.

Still, has any of this bought us true joy.
I fear not. For as our world crumbles all about us,
and madness and mayhem are the order of the day, our
desires have become our most prominent destructive
force. One man’s desire to rule another, or to have
more than is needed in a multitude of lifetimes, and
in this wanton greed the wonder of life its very
self is seemingly threatened.

Still, is it not us all, who threaten this faint
glow of life that totters so precariously on the brink
of destruction. For in our passion of frivolous wants,
that we so often call need, we slash at this cord
that holds us so close to thee, this light that
burns so bright, yet fades so fast so deep within our
torn and tattered being.

And as we march ever closer to our moment of truth,
the one understanding demands honesty from us all.
So that those who will not face the true self within,
must vanish into the ether, fort’ to make room for
those, that will have it no other way.

We each choose to be, or not to be, for in this
there is no question, but rather a choice.
Cause to be as one, is the way. And in this way, comes
our salvation. Thus whilst ever we become critical, and
mock the word through fear bred by lack of understanding,
then you make your choice, and that, is that.
So it is for YOU alone to say, yay or nay.
To be or not to be. To want, or to live in only love.
For you are only love and love is the light that
encompasses us all, as one.

NO WEEING UP WALLS

PATIENCE AND APPLICATION:
Are the two keys that open
the doors to a happy, healthy and rewarding life.

ANGER AND PROCRASTINATION:
Are the locks that hold
those same doors closed.

WITHOUT APPLICATION:
You will never look into yourself
to realise your true path.
To see yourself, and your true cause in reality,
is far removed from dreaming.
A dreamer will not apply himself to the honesty
required, to open his heart.
He has not the patience to deal with his life as
that, and in that, he shall just dream on.

WHEN ANGER TAKES CONTROL:
Your real self becomes
clouded, a shadow cast upon it by the wants and
desires of material participation.

DISS–EASED:
We become sick, in pain, affecting ourselves
with thoughts and emotions.

IN PROCRASTINATION:
You will never find strength in
character so as to take yourself up from the lethargic
lounge of malingering tomfoolery, scavenging no more
than a meagre portion, of what this our lives, have
to offer.
The wonder of both anger and procrastination, is that
neither one, are in any way the essence of life, and
can easily be dealt with just by finding a little,
Patience and application.

It is you who chooses your enjoyment. So why are
there so many who choose to be punished by their way
of life.
This life has been given to us as a gift, so is not
this to say, that this gift is to be enjoyed.
I cannot see why an energy that is so highly revered
as the supreme concious understanding, and who also
gave us this supreme gift, that is life, would not
wish to have us enjoy it in whatever way we see fit.
In reality, honesty is here to guide us as the one
true understanding of the whole, that you and I, as
one, flow through. But in truth, the understanding
that YOU find is not that which accommodates God’s will,
but rather, your will as you choose to allow yourself
to envoy it. No one of us is God, but if God is all,
(and it cannot be another way) , then you are, as I
am, an equal portion of the one true reality, as one.
Hence, we each have an equal standing in the I of God.

A WALK TO THEE

And as I walk to thee
Do I then find my path along the way.
For I have looked so many times
To never see my hope and joy
That cometh to me in my day
Of so much discontent.

And so I ride the train of gravy
To this that I must yet become,
For I have paths that cant be numbered –
These that dwell so deep within
The toll of withered time.

That we can’t bend
Or put behind you,
For it’s only here to guide you.
Not divide you,
Just delight you.

And yet the truth is time in part,
For one has come from yond the heart,
To bring us light
Through day and night,
To lead us out of loves respite.
In glory of its essence true
It gives it’s self to me and you.
And so that love might ayre shine through,
With woman is man –
Come one from two.

ONE SELF

I come to hail
Of life so frail,
And how this trail,
Doth leadeth to
The holy grail.

For there’s no thing I need to find,
Beyond my own true peace of mind,
This one myself, my mortal bind.

And though I have no gift to give
Beside this great but still so tortured life I live
I do have many things to say
These both of heaven
And of course – the other way.

But as the light
Doth crack the night
I feel now that it is your fight,

To make your search
To find your church
To never leave you in the lurch.

Oh cometh to thy Lord doth they
To take their place within the play
That leadeth to a single way.

Ah but no church could hold the power
Of love and peace
That doth release us
From this bind of time and tide.

This one that shall sure
Take you on your holy ride
This one that bringeth life on life,
Ayre love preside.

IN QUESTION OF THE PREACHER

And as the demon takes you by your greeding hand!
And leads you tward’ the gates of hell!
The Lord of light will smash these chains that keep
you tangled deep within this sordid life of lies-ss-ss.
And cries of lust that you have drowned yourself
within,
For time – on time.
So long- so low – so low…

Look – I speak to you the word of God.
And yet you all seem so afraid?

Oh Lord above,
How is it that you will not accept my love?
Do you not know that my life is your life?
And can you not see that all I do is but for you?
I hear your words and they become me,
Yet as I speak I see your very children cringe and
cower before the word of God.

And so I ask you,
Is this path for me?
I see fear grow like fire through the masses,
Instilled into the hearts of young and old alike.
And I cannot condone this,
Yet I am the greater part of this.

Oh Lord, the words you say,
Should I carry on with this?
Do your children deserve this?
Have I the right to perform this?
Instilling a fear that has no truth.

For my fear of you is that of a flower, fearing a bee,
Or a pebble, fearing a brook.
Which is no fear.
For the brook sings clearly in the ears of the pebble,
And the pebble dances to her tune,
In the belly of the brook.

And as too, we are pebbles
So that you my Lord might be our brook.
And in this we would dance with joy
In the wonder of your singing,
As the pebble shall dance on –
For ever more.

THE POET

I suffer for the sins of man
And place them onto paper
In whatever way T can.
I’m here today – and gone tomorrow
With a heart so filled with joy,
Yet drenched in so much sorrow.

I reach to all who will to take my love
And yet there are so few beyond the Lord above,
That I am failed to find a friend
For it is my love that I must needs to lend.

And still it is the writing
That doth lead me to the lighting
Of my guided way,
To follow only truth – from day to day.

For I am a poet.
And if I cannot write of love and peace
Then wont ye ‘, my Lord release me
So that then my pain might cease.