After mother passed I had to find peace,
with my sister and mend the fences;
it was import to me that we find release,
the will complete and all the expenses.
There was always some hurt between us,
since we were kids and it had grown more;
we needed for there were things to discuss,
our inner thoughts and feelings had to pour.
So, we met and we talked for hours and hours,
we laid to rest the hurt and burnt the bridge;
as we walked in a park among the flowers,
that day we also burnt down the drawbridge.
We've woven Samson's hair, into Emperor's clothes
From the tangled web, that enough of us chose
We try to find our way back, while the drawbridge is closed
As the portcullis crashes on the cry in our throat
If we could but match it, with sincerity's tear
We might fashion a shield, and a mantle to wear
But if we cling to the cloak of the silk that's been woven
By the dance of the golden hooves of the cloven
We'll be trampled under, that stampede of lies
In the gathering storm, as it darkens the skies
It won't echo and thunder, as our epitaph
But a death knell our legend, as history laughs
At the folly of thinking, "We're better than that."
Swept into the dustpan, or under the mat
Placed at the bottom, of a yellowing page
In some forgotten tome... of enlightenment's age
"The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event where you
go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different,
and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?"
J. B. Priestley
I raise wistful eyes aloft to mountain tops,
wearing knitted snowy white shawls.
As I pretend fresh snow silently drops,
I am a princess, behind stone castle walls.
Crystalline flakes kiss limbs of pine trees.
In starlight's glow, eloquence is serene
From turret window, I feel a frigid breeze
in this hushed winter world, pristine.
Silvered moonlight glows across each hill.
From canopied forest a proud prince emerges.
From the sky, sparkling snowflakes spill
and my heart beats with romantic urges.
Near enough to behold his handsome face,
the creaking drawbridge pleases my ears.
Tonight, snowy mountain will be a happy place
for I'll taste his lips mingled with tears.
In entrancing snow globe realms, I dwell,
my fertile imagination is divine.
As a princess, I can cast a spell
over reveries I call... 'forever mine.'
I started young, laying brick on brick—
each anxiety a stone I mortared into place.
By twelve, the walls were thick enough
to keep out compliments, to muffle praise.
The moat I dug with my own hands,
filled it with every worst-case scene:
the car crash, the missed deadline, the test
I’d fail despite knowing every answer clean.
I raised the drawbridge for anyone
who got too close, who saw the turrets
for what they were—not protection
but a prison I’d designed with such care
the architect and prisoner were the same.
Now I stand on the highest tower,
looking down at the life outside these walls,
the one I could have lived
if I hadn’t been so good at building,
if I hadn’t made this fortress so complete
that even I can’t find the door,
can’t remember which stone was the first I laid.????????????????
Stone castle forts fall,
their wet moats dry to parched dust
power mutes silent
yet tyrant's demand to rule
remains coiled in naked might
Drawbridge now unfolds
as policy, law, decree
the moat, a filter
controlling information
behind wall of secrecy
Fortress power stays
autocracy hewn in stone—
unbreachable walls
the moat of politicide
changing form, not its intent
The Kingdom’s seeds
within his heart
its reign
a heavy stone
The Jester dancing
with the Queen
caught naked
on the throne
His back now turned
the Jack of Spades
a dagger
up his sleeve
A palace coup
in bold relief
his lineage
besieged
The music stops
the Jester laughs
the Queen cries out
for more
The Princess
in the tower
where her subjects
cry out ‘WHORE’
The drawbridge falls
the King is back
his armor
red and stained
The final battle
yet unfought
dark prophecy
— ordained
(The New Room: February, 2025)
To trust is to risk betrayal
To need is to risk emptiness
To hope is to risk rejection
To feel is pain
Head too busy
Heart too heavy
Skin too thin
Feel too much
Turn away from it all
Pull up the drawbridge
Turn off the lights
Detach and numb
Deny feeling
Reject need
Stifle hope
Trust no one
RICKETY BRIDGE
image#5
I keep my access bridge looking rickety
It makes unwanted visitors think twice
I like my solitude, I’m quite pernickety
Just one invitation each year will suffice
It’s actually stronger than it may appear
There’s a deep, fast flowing river below
I watch them approach and see the fear
Of falling, but I’ll wave as I see them go
My mailbox is standing on the other side
So, no need for post brought to my door
Nor any sales people with smiles so wide
But they know I have heard it all before
My home is my castle, and I’m just fine
Even without a drawbridge, it is efficient
I own it and the surrounding land is mine
By now you’ve guessed I’m self-sufficient
Maybe it’ll break and fall apart one day
A bit like me as the years take their toll
With independence slowly ebbing away
And no rickety bridge, just this sad soul
I want to write something beautiful for you
How can when all I am is ugly?
Grab a mirror just to be sure
Reflecting sunsets and puppies
Can something common be bonny?
It is only in your eyes I am pretty
I see your bud in the dead of May
Without your gaze I’m rotting peat
You are the blue wisteria lasting days
These despised hands still tap futilely
You ask me why I need all these drugs
I tell my love they are veils to mad beauty
You tell me I’m adorable like sunsets
You tell me this puppy to finish a painting
In my bones, ugly see beauty the best
Your childish perspective is simply pure
My maturity is a cracked cynical beauty
With ego waking beauty descends
Art is just banging on the gate of Eden
With ego sleeping the drawbridge descends
Adam and Eve used to be lovely
A fig leaf won’t cover what’s ugly
Your beauty crosses bearing my words
You baptize the serpent in me
A pen will not ink away my sins
Child, bring me back to the Tree of Life
No drink of mine will make me lovely
Make my words innocent children
Hate not the sins of the father
There is no page for hate in beauty
No room for ugly me
When the road ahead looks a little rough
The walls are closing in
You're just about to give up
And are fortunate to have someone
To run to who you really love
Someone you're always thinking about
Who you know you can trust
The only place to go to
Is in their open embrace
That soothes your inner child
A safe harbour to rest a warm special place
Where you leave the world behind
And time has no place
She always keeps me anchored
And keeps my boat in good shape and afloat
Whenever my mind strays
She understands me inside out
Making my days full of colour
Beauty unlike I've ever seen
She is the one who lowered my drawbridge
And the gateway to my dreams
I love her just as much if not more
When we met both were seventeen
So grateful to her and that fate played a hand
Making me grow into the man I am.
KEEP
All keep safe and heed my warning
Too late to escape by early morning
And surrounded as the day is dawning
The outer walls are thick and strong
But battered, they’ll not last too long
And our fate is solely in our hands
The keep is well protected by a moat
As those in armour will never float
Guards will follow all orders by rote
But access will be barred, it is true
With portcullis and drawbridge too
And our fate is solely in our hands
We do have secrets that we must keep
But if under attack, we will not sleep
As our dead will pile high in a heap
Yet we will certainly respond in kind
By killing them all and yet never mind
And our fate is solely in our hands
We’ll keep the true faith as crusaders
Even though we’re considered invaders
And none staying here are dissuaders
The Holy Land is our very right to win
And with never a thought of giving in
And our fate is solely in our hands
Old age brings
delusion
Youth the vengeful
liar
Caught between
confusion reigns
As time restokes
the fire
Tweedledee
and Tweedledum
The Brothers Grimm
delight
What doesn’t rob
by light of day
Will steal from you
at night
Wisdom rots on
twisted vines
That choke
the palace walls
Where jesters climb
in ill attempts
To heed the
emperor’s call
Senility
humility
Where folly
once was young
The years have come
the tears have stayed
—tomorrow on the run
(The New Room: August, 2023)
a drawbridge is seen
a yellow carriage ground
grass so very green
sky and water
blue in a frame of gold
decorate the scene
as if in a dream
a starry night
cypresses over a field of corn
great sunflowers
a symphony of yellow
blue fields
as far as the eye can be seen
exaggerated proportions
bring
intangible thrills
over&over
the stylised brush-work
scene
Neon fingers
banish the remnants of the day
Dustbins loiter ominously
blurry eyed
The Night people slide in between
Sailor doom bewitched by sorceresses
as heckled men face electric spears
Stet the occasion
A drawbridge opens
staining the gangster day
Outstretched palms
preclude the day
Jewelled ghost trains
ordinately take you
further away
Velvet dolls with a brainy side
watch stale commissioners slide
Star clad ingénues infuriated evermore
awaken bagpipes
riled up in broguish accent
traversing drawbridge
of Cawdor Castle
enchanting chanter and drones
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