My Prayers

i wish i could wipe away all the tears
wherever they may come from

life is so often unjust
or do i not understand?

is some god only playing with us?
or are we so deficient in learning?

my prayers, so rare,
are always answered

but not in the way i expect
and not in the way i would want

my prayers are far too powerful
in the hands of a mortal like me

an unwitting player of chess
I can’t see ahead far enough

whatever is given to me
has been taken away from another

it’s worse when it’s someone i love
why must fate be so cruel?

the lessons so seldom are plain
i may never pray again

not until I’m on my death bed
with submissive thanks

what’s the purpose of prayer
when i can’t recognise the answer

Shooting Stars

The lamps shine down from windows high above,
Burning moths, white wings singe against the light.
Old roses hang against the well worn walls
Amongst the darker tangle of the leaves,
Their blossoms gleaming as each petal falls,
While lovers sleep entranced in tender dreams,
Turning now and then throughout the long night,
Entwined and locked together by their limbs.
I stand below here, pierced and polarised.
The galaxies are singing psalms and hymns.
Seeing, I lose all sense of who I am.
I see a sky that’s full of shooting stars.

No wish I make can change our mortal fate.
It’s beautiful, it’s passing and it’s late.

 

 

The Choice is Pyramids or Circles

the pyramids of greed and power
became our masters long ago
they took the land away from us
and fenced the common pastures
while we were tired and sleeping

are we sleeping still?
we walk on ice above the fires
we hover on a precipice
bind-folded by the wrong desires
our better hopes defeated

how did we come to this?
the storm brings rain to fill the rivers
we complain of changing weathers
we take for granted natures gifts
making wanton use of treasures

every creature great and small
brings blessings to the earth
while we destroy and poison all
how can we be so foolish?
we are earth’s most useless creatures

we will come to understand, too late,
the damage we have done ourselves
in breaking natures circle
we will recognise our awful fate
when we reap the final harvest

join the circle, strong, complete
to guard and bless the garden
there is no greater purpose
the only promised land we have
is here beneath our feet

Undefeated

All windows locked, no door, no sanctuary,
no hopes, no kindness, all dreams your nightmares
in this world, of your creation, only you
spreading your despair

Locking loveliness away with bitter hate,
dread fate, you hover over me, a demon.
Is this the best that you can find to hurt me?
I have my own mask

Masked and silent, with my stomach clenched in fear
I fly a million miles away, never near.
You shut me in a darkened room, I vanish
I wear my own wings

You cannot reach inside my mind, never will.
There is a light you can’t extinguish. It burns,
buried under night, it glimmers softly still.
I have my own light

You mistook me long for one who cannot see.
I know you, I see you struggling in your hell.
I cannot help you, break the spell or reach you.
I can’t set you free

I will go from here one day. I’ll forget you.
You’ll remember how I tried to bring you light.
No doubt you’ll see that as a greater torment.
I won’t be haunted

When I escape, the sun will shine the brighter
in a world that’s new to me, reborn from dark,
clearer, stronger, its definitions sharper.
This is not defeat.

Toss a Coin

I sang my heart out in the summer street,
a child, happily singing to myself.
The street was empty. As if from heaven
a coin fell at my feet, shining in the sun.
My grandfather threw it from a window.
His secret. An early wrong impression.

I never have cared too much for money.
I never had very much either but
it’s an arrogance to say so, I think,
when I have enough food on my table
and a warm bed to crawl into at night,
free medical care and education

To say I have little is far from true.
I have what I earned. Maybe not my due.
Money has no flow, it’s stuck on a peak,
a thin trickle flowing down to dry earth.
In a hollow game where the odds are stacked
the rich give kind charity, after theft.

Oh yes, you can rise from poverty
if you are lucky. Work is not enough,
neither is merit. Poverty kills Will.
Try rising from the grind of the bottom
when hope has died generations ago,
it’s all a matter of accepting fate.

I have one picture in my head forever.
A party in the house of Dr. Prem.
He boasted to me that his name means Love.
He invited me around to admire his wealth.
He told me he donates to charity.
He practises yoga every day at dawn

Ah yes, a very fine man indeed was he.
Celebrating his daughters birthday
we had a fine meal too, ending with cake.
The cake was cut. We stood in a circle.
I passed a plate to the silent servant
”No, not her” he said. ”She’s Untouchable.”

Money brands everyone, blessed or untouched.
So enjoy your dinner in the restaurants
while the poor sleep rough on our city streets
in Agra, London, Paris, New York.
Don’t let them put their empty hand on you.
The bad luck of the poor may be catching

just chance

have you ever experienced
several unfortunate failures
of communication in one day
at the wrong moment, ill placed?
it was innocent, not designed
it all happened by chance

I can believe
several impossible things
before breakfast
but it’s harder
to believe them
after dark
when the door
was shut
in my face

it must have been fate
so fickle
i suppose

Dreaming

I had a dream I didn’t know you,
I’d forgotten all about you,
So it seemed very strange to me
When you took me home
I was startled by what I found.
Stranger still was the way I knew
Where all your things should be,
You had moved some around.
It made no sense to me.

I knew how you felt
And what you thought
And all that we talked about.
Pre-destined, anticipated
As if it had all been scripted
My responses were all defined.
I didn’t know why I spoke.
It all seemed oddly fated and timed
I couldn’t help wondering if we’d met
Or was I so insightful?

I knew I had dreamed it all before
Then woke to find I was dreaming.
Life is lucid dreaming
Where all can be as it seems.
We can make it so.

Dream upon dream
Always dreaming
Always eternal dreams.
How much do we ever choose
The way our lives will go?

Luna Flow

the changing moons of time and tide
allow no traveller to abide
life ebbs and flows with changing seas
regardless of our errant pleas

all useless thought is vanished now
no virtue in the why and how
we wake from dreams to deeper dreams
nothing ever as it seems

truth lives within the loving heart
no souls are ever far apart
to the stars our fate is bound
we are not lost but truly found

Luna Flow

the changing moons of time and tide
allow no traveller to abide
life ebbs and flows with changing seas
regardless of our errant pleas

all useless thought is vanished now
no virtue in the why and how
we wake from dreams to deeper dreams
nothing ever as it seems

truth lives within the loving heart
no souls are ever far apart
to the stars our fate is bound
we are not lost but truly found