Long Harbour Poems

"As other spirits sail on music, mine, oh my love, swim on your perfume." Charles Baudelaire

"Sometimes you find an old bottle from which the soul returns." 
Charles Baudelaire

"Smell is a Word. Perfume is Literature."

"There are...

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Twenty two years had passed  by

She blinked, and a lifetime had passed

She started this job as a lark

She never thought it would last

Two husbands and rehab were part of this bar

The husbands...her clients all...

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“ANTE BELLUM”


BEIGEBest served where it can’t be seen
On Stirling Silver platters
With redruM narcotics
Delivered by sharp Blood-Red
Well-mannered talons
Strutting in sleek wet rolling tight-skirted
Long French Silk Stockinged legs all the way down to 
Lethal Six Inch stilettos...

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I have travelled through the cluttered corridors of my tired mind countless times. 
I have reached deep into the dark abyss of my captive soul and in that profoundly disturbing darkness, I went searching to...

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Like Hannibal we crossed the pass and crossed 
   the Alps (okay, the Brynderwyn Hills) 
and a bridge too far on north-west passage.
   From out of the Valley of Mizpah 
to...

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A dream of a Rainbow coloured family

In the ocean there is a raging storm 
And a lot of boats 
With rudders that are shattered,
Compasses lost, sails that are torn.
And dreams that are faded or tattered
With...

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I shall resolve to leave this
Place now...
And steadfastly search out,
Nestling between ridge and bluff
Amidst the folds of a foreign 
Land,
Several acres of unkempt ground
Fallow and rough;
Upon which stands...
Crumbled stone walls
With an exposed slate roof in
Some...

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Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And sadly...i start to drive.
Through the unremarkable village with its tall 
Georgian Bay window panes, lightless,
devoid of visages; outwardly staring back at my 
Abject countenance with detached contempt and...

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from island corner, big Antrim lad
  to Belfast city, a tiny pad
  shattered windows, tilted clocks
  Goliath had lost his socks
  gargantuan giant going mad

  Armagh apple girl, any topic
...

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“But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet;Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”
–“He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven,” by W.B. Yeats 

“I love you...

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Each year as Christmas rolls around, as I buckle under the pressure and stress of shopping for gifts for people that already  have everything, I find myself remembering that Christmas of 1954.

Dad had joined...

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Differences – you say !

I – me Lass – brave Helios, rides his golden chariot, 
drawn by fiery Steeds, into the vastness of this universe.

These mighty Titans, dispatched – brilliant, glowing -
ruled, controlled the blueness...

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"Conceits"



Such conceits
as veils between 
our windowed worlds 
torn torrential incomplete

mayst thou watch and learn 
the one I spawned, 
strength beats weakness
carried soft and harsh

one direction or the other
strength and weakness
both carried soft and harsh
ego and...

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Lux Vitae Love Stories of The Fey:

“In the Clouds”



“What are you looking at Mum?”
“They come in the clouds you know”, she said to her daughter
“Every night, the same time, the numbers seem to grow,...

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Newfoundlanders can row, you should see some of'em go,
when they puts a punt on a pond. 
But I don't like this mess, all this Race foolishness,
I'd never seen so much goings on.

If you wants to...

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"Midnight to 3.33, Morning Kills"



He said, 
“Go to where the poets go
Love rolls wet and sways
Intensity wraps itself inside out
and somersaults its legs backward
to open a way
Out
It’s kind of burning hot 
like Summer burns 
bare...

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Stop in your tracks

Take a deep breath
Stop and relax

Close your eyes
Exhale a slow deep breath

In your mind’s eye 
It’s early dawn
It’s quiet and serene around you

Look far out at the horizon
There over the peaceful rolling...

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"Skinwalker"


That one’s mind 
is like a scene from Chagall
dreams flow like blood bleeds
across the cortex page curtain call
an audience with the silent speakeasy 
cerebellum with its swift
matter-of-factness 
logically guides the fingers 
to dance across keys...

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"Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting." Robert Frost 


 
"Bees Under Milk Wood : A Spell"



Spider Web glistens wet 
in the spoilt lies of...

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Lyrics of Bigflo & Oli's hit song, Dommage: “T’is a Pity!” Translated by T. Wignesan

https://bigfloetoli.lnk.to/LaVraieVie

(Two brothers: Florian (the elder with the “Big” prefix) and Olivio ORDONEZ, born and raised in music from an early age...

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The bombing of Pearl Harbour was the turning point for me
That day I enlisted in the army, despite protests from my family
I tried to reassure them by saying that everything would be fine
And after six...

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O' Baobab! O' Baobab! O' Baobab
Ace of the furnace, finest of the dynasty 
You strut your breast high
And ply strain against the yearn, 
Against the fire, the desire for sigh 
Haughty, you stand, before the...

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I wonder ?, have pondered ?, have analyzed the boxes, 
the cages, the walls my little Girl, my young Woman, 
finds herself packaged in, trapped in, stuck behind, 
believing that they have come into being...

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“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.”



The Dilettante Diaries: Avian Notes on the Sensate Slip Stream : The Silent War in 3 Acts

(Part 2)

What beats...

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"Love...ultimate truth in life,    
                  came tiptoeing, whispering...murmuring...tinkling" - by Poet    

...

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