The sun rose in the west today – or, perhaps, I was standing on my head?
I went to a funeral for my very best friend, but the chap wasn’t even dead!
Said he wanted to be eulogized while drinking a pint of beer.
I think the things we said about him, weren’t exactly what he wanted to hear.
“He was, or is, an egotistical old bastard – doesn’t surprise me in the least,
that he wants to attend his own funeral service – God, what a horrible beast!”
And that, my friends, was from his Mom; the best friend a boy ever had.
“When finally they put his body in the ground, I think we’ll all be glad.”
Global warming took a holiday, as the snow piled up real high;
that bugger for whom we passed the plate, took out his wooden eye.
The casket was full of cold cuts;
The bartender doubled as the priest;
I took another shot of tequila,
while the sun started setting in the east.
The ladies started undressing;
my organ started to rise;
I played Beethoven’s “Requiem”,
with it pointing to the skies.
The only tears that were shed today belonged to the corpse who was still alive –
His ex wife sang that old Gloria Gaynor tune, “You know, I will survive!”
The next time he throws a party for himself,
I think he’ll choose a different theme –
And maybe the people who come and get drunk
won’t be so awfully mean!
Tall pines line the misty mountaintops
Crusty ridges surround the hilly wonder
The sun sets with a spectacular amber dust
Night covers the lonely valley
With the wild call of loons
Mystery and life flow here together
Above the stars whisk through the skies
With the illusion that they can be touched with a stretch of the arm
The moon sits with its eyes beaming on the land
Its shadow turns the lake into glass
Glowing eyes of the night appear in the brush
The air changes as the night is settled in its deepest hour
Cool breezes brush the tree limbs as they dance
Hooting of the owls can be heard from a far
Night brings rest to the weary
A hush falls upon the early morning
As the sun creeps its way behind the mountain
The first light of the day has brought warmth to my face
I am in touch with nature
Strawberries And Unknown Girl
Strawberries grow unaided in the field
Green, red and magic on the day
Sentinels stationed; they speak kindly of the Sun
And sometimes of an unknown girl
She’s there just out of reach
In the air, partaking of sweet pleasures
Years collect themselves in silence
Still sense her song and mystery adrift
Along strawberry rows aligned in history
Those corridors of time in endless days at play
And there she stays a fair young maiden
A constant unknown wonder to this day
If I were a word,
I'd be on the point of Sharon's pen...
If I were a poem,
The young one would have penned me...
If I needed to show my heart,
I guess I would be me,
If I were to lay down wisdom,
I'd be John, Vince, Ruby, Christy, Maya
But, I wouldn't be me....
If I awoke in the middle of the night,
Wrapped in fear and uncertainty,....
I would be Tom Bell again,....
In desperate need of a friend...
If I have offended, I will volunteer
To cut off the offensive part...
If someone will remember me...
Somewhere down the road...
If I can create a smile,
or a wondrous thought,
I will have exceeded my aspirations
As a person, though never quite a farah chammah,
I will see the sun rise, I will see the sun sink...
I will pray for my fellow man,
Regardless of what others may think....
One life to live?
Nonsense, the Hindus got it right,
The cycle is repeated,
Until we see the light...
Yet the light is here at Soup,
It shines so bright that it could blind,
But blind most of us are,
We keep a closed up mind...
Lives end, lives begin...
They are virtually the same...
God kisses each of us,
And grants us a special name...
But time is oblivious to all this,
It has it's own agenda,
And we are powerless to influence it,
There are higher powers we'll never understand...
But the power of our words lives on...
That power will never end.
Flowing fields of black
Roses the hue of night
Dark meadow take me home
Relieve me of my fright
And take me back.
Blackened fields of ashy rose
Take me to my home
Where I'll never see the sun again
Where I'll never hate
And never bend
Where we only see in shades of gray
Where summer sun has shone its last
And November wind is here to stay.
Where I can go forget my past
And never have to pay
For the things I've done.
Blackened fields of ashy rose
Take me to your home
Where we all see in shades of gray
And I can rest in the coldly blowing wind.
Forget my face forget my name
Forget my form forget my sin
Let me stay and waste away
Please won't you take me in?
Solar Plexus ( Sun of The Soul )
Centre she holds the light
Connection to description
Concentration of all the names
Filtered from out pouring skies
Entrusted to perception
Before these provoking eyes
Third state consciousness
Her Aeon vibration
Proposition to ignite
The sleeping Chakra heart
The augury of hope
Never and forever
The coloured combination's
Goddess of all she is
No acuity to perceive
Of these convoluted explanations
Face of creation
All life’s attractions
To her radiance and adamantine warmth
Beacon she is
Living cell of solar system
Embodies Galactic entity
And what unknown umbilical
Resounds to this magnitude
Of the ever eternal point
Touches this Galaxy of stars
Extends a phantom finger
Through the vast and the void veils
Extends a phantom finger
Inspired by Christie Moses “ Soul of The Sun “
Fair weather eye's
focused on the eastern horizon
occasional salty sea spray
followed by a chilly breeze .
A voyager , wandering adrift today's beyond
searching for better tomorrows
on life's ocean of emotions rolling wave's
At times , I feel like changing direction's
follow the sun to the west
go in circles to where it never set's
But then , would I be in a continous day dream
only capable of experiencing a singularity ??
Supposing the setting sun gives hope for another
opportunities abound whatever the weather
Even still , why has everything become so different
refraction apparently affecting others
their mind's " I " incapable of truth
tropism natural for most
eclipsing of the sun becoming an everyday event
What happened to the world I once knew ??
My treasure chest
My treasure chest, is not a truth
It’s but a metaphor
For I have never dreamed of wealth
My treasure is much more
It’s filled with the moon, the stars at night
And the sun that shines each day
And the beauty of the darkest sky
That highlights milky-way.
It’s filled with trees, majestic trees
And birds that sing so sweetly
My treasure chest it be filled up
But never though completely
Everything that’s beautiful
Is in my treasure chest
It’s filled with all the countless things
That make me happiest.
My treasure chest is never ending
It goes on till forever
It’s filled with all the love that lives
And the sweetness of together
I need no other treasure chest
This one, it satisfies me
For me, I know with certainty
It contains eternity.
21 July 2013 @ 1018hrs.
It’s here at last
At last the spring is really here
The weather’s warm and sweet
The doves up in the seed trays coo
As so peacefully they eat
The fountain plays a melody
As wispy clouds up in the sky
They form in me these images
As the morning passes by
Geraniums in their many hues
They shine out in the sun
The dog runs round with rubber bone
He’s having heaps of fun
The mulberry tree is so alive
She loved that winter rain
She knows as she grows her baby shoots
That the rain was not in vain.
The washing hanging on the hoist
Gives out such sweet perfume
One would think the gentle rose
Was close with tender bloom
Mauve hibiscus dances softly
Within the cooling breeze
And all of this portrayed together
It gives my mind such ease.
9 September 2013 @ 1924hrs.
Questions for everyone
Has anybody ever sat?
In a garden filled with flowers
Have you felt the magic there?
Have you felt the power?
Have you sat there with the body still?
And the mind too, just the same?
Have you ever lost yourself?
As the mind stopped playing games
Have you seen those magic colours?
And really seen them too!
Have you felt the touch of the morning breeze?
Have you seen the way she do?
Touch those branches with her glory
Make them dance in the morning sun
As the sparkles nearly blow your mind
And you’re the holy one?
Have you ever heard the dove’s warm Coo
And that deep, deep ravens croak?
Have you seen the mulberry tree?
As she dons her summers coat?
And radiance and reverence
Are all that one can know
Have you ever sat there in the garden?
And watched the morning flow.