Within: the longest Day. Philip Tayler 18-11-2015 At the end of the final, long day; much is due the question arises – who am I? who are you? The seers and mystics; I believe they speak true They honestly, compassionately, endlessly say the false self, the ego; is crucial to Slay. Destroy the persistent, yet…
the poet (again)
I’m playing my song to the long stems that dance at my window; the flowers that bend like light on the depths of my loneliness. I have lain on the cool stone of midnight and risen to greet the light of morning. I have slumpt by the window to long again for the evening,…
IsIsIsn’tIsolated
FunDeadBiBigBusyness 1 There is a pandering, a love to lose yourself; a meandering in wistfulness and dream; a waiting, a weight, like thinking of the moon, in its perfect place. La Luna scale gradient exactly sized to fit between the sun. There are connections to be made, and things too small to know, and beings…
homecoming
homecoming dedicato a Marco, poeta e traddutore I. there was nothing else than the walk from the shore to the house all as it had been for all time past yet voices shouting* bold with the drink from your own cellar and you sank the arrow into their fat revelry even before you had kicked…
South Rain
Gentle is the day’s rain Sliding in from the south It is a mist, a cold lace curtain And it clings to face And emotion It makes you look Deeper, to wonder If this might be The season’s forecast
waters
waters i love to watch full-tide in the rain water on water grey on green-grey lifting your eyes more water cockle bay, howick 18 october 2014
Time, the absence of time and other abstractions
1 She heard the lock turn, footsteps in the hall; a pause, on the floorboard outside her door. 6 o’clock. 2. The clock stopped and who knows what time it was? He heard the intermittent twitter in the trees, the rush of wheels on the cool tarmac; eyes fixed on the one…
Reflections while sitting on the Train
Something unravels and disperses as we, each step taken, walk out the accumulation of lifetimes….our pasts pounded into asphalt poured onto paper and canvas gone with the rolling over of relentlessly passing seasons Steps which take us beyond to where we have not been before where no ancestor has been… Maori say that we…
Tick Tock
10.35 pm Tick tock Xmas is coming What a crock! Love and peace is surpassed by expectations by presents large bows large packages presented with large promises huge expectations Tick tock ready to rock and roll for Xmas Hell yeah Will smile put on my elf suit Hopefully score Yeeha! Xmas is coming 10.45pm Am…
A Christmas poem for World peace
The world sleeps Waiting for salvation Christmas is a time for celebration World peace Joy and jubilation I wish I could sleep I wish I could weep for the homeless the joyless the hungry…. The world keeps on turning Sun keeps on burning Moon keeps returning to Goddess Spare a thought for the homeless the…
Meandering river
My mind is wandering My mind is clear My river is meandering over smooth rocks Rivulets split into their own paths much like mine trickling over brooks nooks and finding crannies Places to grow and be nurtured Lamb raw Wild salad Iodine on skin Rock salt blended together with kumera straight from the pot laughing…
I am an Anarchist!!!
This is an anarchy poem! Church is a social experiment It’s a place to stage your event Dressing up with hats and gloves on a Sunday Words exchanged eyebrows raised Organ plays Pews create a nostalgic view from when you were an innocent wooden and resolute straight backs in your seats No whispering lads No…