Coconuts and Fish and Birds
If coconuts could grow on trees
and birds could fly
and fish could swim.
What a wonderful world we’d all enjoy,
what a wonderful world we’d all live in.
If every line I wrote could rhyme
and poetry spilled from my pen,
I’d write about the things I find
and how,and why,
and where,and when.
If everything I wrote made sense
there’d be no interest in my words.
That’s why I write,and love the world,
and coconuts,
and fish,
and birds.
Ivor G Davies
It was a world unto itself
Filled with untold possibilities
Of unknown futures
Or magnificent adventures
Of past journeys
That have never occurred
It was… a blank piece of paper!
Here
I was God!
Foretelling stories
That have never been told
Except in my dreams
And to those
Whom I have told these stories to
It was… a blank piece of paper
It was all laid bare
In the emptiness of white
… Nothing
Not even so much as a period
Could be found
It was a world of white promises
That waited for a tale to begin
A white piece of paper
That called to me
Over and over and over again
As I sat at my desk
Pen in hand
And keyboard at the ready
It was hope
It was aspiration
It was desire
It was longing
It was a wish coming true
It was… a blank piece of paper
The far end of the world is where I want to be,
It's a place I've always wanted to see.
The one place in this world where I can be at peace,
The one place where my mind and spirit can be at ease.
The far end of all known civilization,
The far end of all know creation.
It's a place for those who seek nothing,
The one place where you can have everything.
The far end of the unknown and the known,
A place in which to be completely alone.
The far end of common sense and reason,
A place where there is no time or season.
Perception lost, world forlorn,
the door has opened, delusion is torn.
Shadows have faded, objects revealed;
enlightenment shows, what God has concealed,
a world without limit, painful but free,
given to man- conscious infinity.
It ceaselessly, on all levels, reverberates
smashing through the gates
of logic, innocence and reason.
It knows no time or season
as men of high or low estate
prostitute their very sanity,
prostitute the very clarity
of their minds and souls.
Assuredly, ever since man to the state of reason attained
testing them 'till they gained
the whole world and vast power
and lost their humanity,
their very sanity.
The grip of material power is incalculable,
it has filled, and continues to fill
and to flood the world with pain and woe,
its perpetrators fully aware, know
the suffering, the agony they cause.
yet they care not, will not e'en pause
as they pursue and solidify powers grasp
crushing all who oppose, to their last gasp.
Compassion and caring is their enemy.
Their way, their only road is that of brutality.
A ghost apparition under glowing wreath
scattered sounds from a falling leaf
see spirits wander under rainy sheath
this real haunting from the world underneath
nothing remains but bone and teeth
all that is left of them to bequeath
dried up to dust and the thirsting heath
what lies beyond in the world underneath.
www.insiderealhauntings.com
I bring forth life to vacancy
This vastness is just a place to me
I give you words to place in rhyme
In this world all of you is mine
Neurons fire, sparking birth to flame
I change your path or keep it the same
You are my puppet and i control you
See through your eyes, your sight is mine too
I give you reason, right and wrong
Your rhythmic heart becomes my song
I let you fail your body rot
But i live on you are my thought
My world created to entertain
The mind is god everyone's is the same
Experiencing its self in this never ending game
‘Dreams are becoming, with an unfinished reason,
as in an opened door of what has been witnessed before,
uncertainty, will I ever be sure.
I am in need of the wanting, for progression of the understanding.
Too touch that settling feeling of knowing, for the need no more to explore.
In times of need you are the one I have opened up to,
searching through the skies and past the stars.
Asked so many questions and painted you my world,
the world you placed me in, to suffice.
Your moment of silence, rare to this world like a forgotten second,
making me wait for a new beginning,
when reality is I am just staring into space with no knowledge of belonging.
So my dreams are becoming.
Once again in need of knowing why,
I will look past your unhelpful knowledge,
my mind’s eye will decide.’
When my eyes close
I do not see the dreams that you see
My reality does not match with yours
Flowers dance on fields of Kelly green grass
Swaying in warm breezes
Whose melodic tones play an ancient symphony
With a rhythm added by a million gliding birds
A song written on a sky of pastel blues and shining white
Clouds circle around ancient mountains
Creating strands of silky threads
The sun rises and sets before my eyes
Casting shadows over the entire world
Days fade and night grows around me
Stars and plants float across a field of ebony
Dimly lighting a world of my creation
This is the world which gives me the words of my poems
This is a poet’s dream
And it is who I am
My heart is stuck in thin air
under the atmospheric pressure of my thoughts
unable to breath in the depths of my subconscious
and touch the beauty within my soul
It's like a game of hide-and-seek
trying to find the child inside of my heart
who stole all of my dreams
and took away my unique perception of the world
Where through change do I find what was
how can I keep that which doesn't resemble myself anymore
opening the back-doors to my nightmares
and believe anything is possible on the ladder of life
Be-able to just breath again through the fresh air of the past
where the adult world was indeed a world of fantasy
not like a childhood robbed of it's rarity and wonder
and people were aliens amongst themselves
Try to imagine our world without time
A timeless world that festers and rots;
But if some change no matter how brief
Could change this world and make a difference.
The “now” would be different than “before”
Indicative of the passing of time.
Thus time and change are related events
Because passing of time depends on change.
In our real world changes have never ceased
Some happen repeatedly some just once:
The breaking of waves against the seashore;
Or it’s a particular falling leaf.
When we first counted repeated changes
It was only then, friend, when time began.
Try to imagine our world without time
A timeless world that festers and rots;
But if some change no matter how brief
Could change this world and make a difference.
The “now” would be different than “before”
Indicative of the passing of time.
Thus time and change are related events
Because passing of time depends on change.
In our real world changes have never ceased
Some happen repeatedly some just once:
The breaking of waves against the seashore;
Or it’s a particular falling leaf.
When we first counted repeated changes
It was only then, friend, when time began.
The world is really very big
much bigger than a sheep or pig
can understand, 'cos on a farm
the size of things does not alarm,
but far beyond a farm's domain
are larger things to stretch the brain.
I cannot ever really hope
to understand this greater scope.
Indeed, a little sheepie's brain
was never built to take the strain
and so I think of grass and sky,
below, above, between am I
and I shall simply be content
within the place where I am meant
to be: for all this world has got,
I only have this tiny spot.
Maybe the Universe, so great,
can yet be claimed and can relate
unto an ownership divine:
this little patch of grass is mine.
This world is a bewitching illusion
The spring, the fragrant flowers, the chirping birds
The waterfalls, the sky, the valleys, the clouds
Are nothing real but delusion.
The gigantic snow clad mountains and fathomless seas
Are what is called optical illusion
Our eyes are so designed to see things in nothingness
The moon, the sun, the stars we see are nothing
Beauty, colors, lights and shade are nothing
Peacocks, swans, cypress trees and nightingale are nothing
The feats of our fabulous inventions are all fake
The skyscrapers, trains, cars, airplanes and ships are nothing
The super Markets filled with luxury goods are of no avail
The motorways, the subways, airports and runways are nothing
Dreams, wishes, desires, ambitions, hopes and aspirations
Success, achievements, satisfaction and fulfillment
Are only heartwarming assertions
Youth, beauty, seductiveness and glamour are nothing
The love binding you and me together is a mirage
Kindness, sympathy and benevolence are nothing
Why do we have unending lust for this world?
Beauty, elegance and allurement of this world is nothing
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