Betrachtungen

Ich erfasste in meinem Auge,
Die Vögel, Gefangene des Windes,
Und lobte das Lied,
Gesungen in ihrer Art.

Ich hörte das wehende Gras,
Die Sonne innig liebend,
Und lobte seinen Reim,
Einig und fliessend.

Der Fluss erfüllte meine müden Augen,
Denn er lebte und nahm die Zeit mit hin.
Ich rang mit dem Tod des Lebens,
Und fand das Sein meiner Sinne,
Erhalten in des Windes Segen.

Er ging spielend durch die sanfte Natur,
Und tauchte mein menschliches Elend,
Mit unter die ewigen Rhythmen
Des Werdens.

Meine Mutter starb an Krebs

Ich wollte sterben,
Und mit dir eine Ewigkeit erwerben,
Denn kein Ende solltest du haben,
Sondern Leben, in meinem Herzen
Bis ans Ende der Zeit.

Ich hielt dich so lange am Leben,
Wie ich nur konnte.
Ich las, schlief und wachte für dich auf,
Und so den Schmerz vermied ich, dein Verlust
ewig von mir verwahrt.

Ich litt denn mein Keim,
Den du gesäht hattest, erstickte,
Der Reim starb an dem Konflikt unserer Seelen.
Aber wie konnte ich dich verlieren,
Brennen in pausenlosem Kampf um dein
Dasein, musste ich.

Aber ich verlor dich doch,
Denn du sein konnte ich nicht.
Nun muss ich alleine, ganz alleine werden.

Herbst

Die Zeit vergeht,
Wie geschlossene Knospen,
Der Blüte entgegen verschlossen,
Ein ewiger Herbst
trage Früchte

Licht und Zeit,
Ein Leben nistet,
Kaum einen Finger breit,
Entfernt vom Ursprung,
Entbehrend der Luft
Und des Daseins.
Schön ist das Licht,
Schön wird die Zeit

Commanding the Sun,
Commanding the rain,
We may all have to
disappear to Spain

The Waste of War

bemoan the music of the land,
When souls have gone afar,
When a young man's heart is sifted like sand,
Or his face is torn and scarred.

No anthem is worth,
The utter great waste,
The enemy's mirth,
However to the taste.

Lift not thy heart,
To the bugle's call,
Keep cross souls apart,
For the result will apall.

Set thy sights to naked land,
Not dressed in glory man made,
Use thy horny hand instead,
to wield a wooden spade.

The Seagull

Swing beneath the stars and find your place
Amongst the cliffs and grass.
Swoop smoothly, wing the air,
Let the breezes pass.

You are white and silken,
Gliding wistfully through the currents.
Sweep, dive, swerve through the crystal clear air,
And over the towering turrets.

Winter's Promise

The grass was no longer green,
But tawny and tanned,
The swallow was no where to be seen,
This world was once again bland.

Bare was the ploughman's field,
Consumed would soon be his yield.
Yet I feared not the scold,
Of a winter withering and bold,
For I knew of spring's hallowing,
And of gentle lambs leaving the fold.

Autumn

I saw the ploughed field,
With long sinking troughs,
And thought of the ploughman's yield,
Him putting his goods aloft.

I saw the birds pecking
At worms and the like,
And knew they were letting,
The earth abound with new light.

Light along the troughs,
Light in the furrows,
Resting on wings of moths,
And faltering into rabbits burrows.

I saw brown branches,
In even browner trees,
And then I had fancies,
Of summer's humming bees.

Strength

Sing, sing, sing physics,
Ring, ring, ring physics,
Of secrets yet untold,
Out of the mental fold,
Ring physics.

Energy versus fatigue,
Fatigue bleak and frustrating,
A mind willing to surf
the World,
A body and mental state,
Ready to faint and stay
inert.

But perhaps I'll flirt with energy,
Crisp, new and sound,
And produce work
quite profound.

Secrets

The grass has grown tall,
The flowers have bloomed.
I wish I could call
Unto the doomed.

I wish they could sing
Merrily or even, wearily
Ring ring ring,
With heads hanging heavily.

They never speak,
Even from their grave,
For their voices are weak,
And carried slowly on the wave to Time.

For hidden amongst the
Busy air, under the sea,
Behind beauty fair
Lies great daring mystery.

For once I spied the tall grass,
And saw it wave.
For once I eyed the bloom,
Fearing for its petal,
And knew suddenly of things unrevealed
Great and to us so tightly sealed.

But listen if you can,
To the voice of the doomed.
They speak to you a man,
And can disperse your thoughts assumed

They shed light on darker sides,
And lay bare the secrets
Nature in them so generously confides.

Locked Up

I heard you calling in the night
Sometimes you whispered
Sometimes you cried
But never you jested badly

You told me of treasures
Locked and unrevealed
Of poetic pleasures
Deceivingly concealaed.

I answered saying
I know not where they are
You said with emotion swaying
Search behind the blinding scar

I searched and found
But could not unlock
I heard but found it not
As if I were in deathly shock

But search you said
Let him help
Open your heart so cruelly bled
And lay down the tale to tell
Instead.

A New World

I shall now reveal all
the light and the fire
the rocks built to enthrall

I shall fill out the World
with wierd little creatures
with cunning beautiful features

I shall spread about workers
work for the weary
rest for the shirkers

For mine is the divine right
I do as I please
Ihave a new World in sight
with which I shall tease

A Mystery

The star spread its light
Amongst the towering peaks
Beings of great size took flight
For I know of what I speak

Great awnings of light beamed
and tumbled heavily
so triumphant it seemed
as far as I could see

Creatures moved, great strides they took
Laughing as the light did pass
And their silken hair so shook
As it slithered along the grass.

Many colours tore at my eyes,
Ranging through strange spectrums
Like nature's many generous dyes,
Which the harp of colours so gently strums.

I was light and without touch,
Nothing could I tightly hold,
I grasped, but nothing could I clutch
A mystery deceiving but not untold.

A New Religion

Shall I start a new religion,
Mother Goddess,
Or will Jesus mind and men say I'm paranoid?
Shall I tell them that the
misty clouds their Gothic spires pierce,
Are your mystery?
Shall I tell him that creeping beetles and funny things
flying are really secrets alluding to your domain?
Shall I tell them you love and hate at once,
and laugh as you heal the twain.

Of course not, for they know it already.
They merely sleep a tired hungry dream,
Awaiting home again.

What they know you tease away, and laugh
Scattering a thousand faces along their path.

Kiss them awake
Love them again.
Forgive the rape
Of your domain,
and shine in the melody of the trees.

I know the creeping beetle, if men would look,
Could tell you want no hungry bondage,
Nor is perfection your aim.
That you you ridicule guilt,
And spend your muse without conflict's pain.

Ich (a poem in German)

Im Frühling gibt es Bäume,
Im Herbst gibt es Blätter,
Im hellen Licht des Morgens, sang mein Herz,
Am Abend sprach meine Seele.

Aber ein Sommernachtsschatten,
Besaß meinen Tag und,
Tauchte mich in den Tod hinein,
Nicht mal einen Finger hob ich zur Wehr,
Sondern starb an Leid, mein Feind.

Die Lerche rief mich vielmals,
Steh auf and liebe hes Hasses Gatten,
Ich blieb aber, ein lebloser, sinnloser Schatten.

Mein Blut bebte wie steigende Wellen,
Und ich lebte und starb an vielen Stellen,
Eines toten Meeres.

Weder Leben, noch Liebe, noch Haß, noch Gott,
Schob mir ein Wind entgegen,
Als langsam aus der Tiefe des Sommernachtsschattens,
Ich reckte mein müdes fremdes Wesen.

Ich schwamm leise und beschwert zum Ufer,
Wo schon das eigene Licht des Herbstlaubs strahlte.
Zu meins machte ich es mir,
Und laut sprach meine Seele.

Seasons and the Soul

The seasons fall and change
and the human soul strides them all
to glance at choice on to the autumn bough
or to rest in winter's frost
to mount the pleasure of spring
or to swell with summer's bright voice

The Realness of Things

The realness of things
in polemic estrangement, is
their unique unity, in
dancing Oneness

The ever growing green
endeavours down to the
dying soul beneath
yet sgtretches amongst the graced endless sky

lisping lace, whitened in romantic grace
quivers round the soldiers mould
who died in wrath and hate,
a fate despised

and of man and woman once blended
by a spirit into earth and of it
Unity birthed him and her to
splendid disparity

Demeter addressing her search for Persephone

This weary body of mine released of strength at such a mindful search, would the dryness wet itself and release me of my duty. That I had no charge of seeded growth and well fed worker's bellies. I could then rest, take succour of a muse with no recourse to thruth. Would Zeuss not have ravished his child, absconded her to messy hell... would he have seen his glory blended I would now rest and have known no violence of aim nor call to such potent virtue.

Cannot an ear of my waving corn be bent by the tolerant wind or a single grain trodden under foot, and still my persisting stems abide. Have I not at times argued for rain, gained some and seen only little growth... but yet compromised in my conclusion. Is my fury of natural and godly right.... for it is to regain my child..... or does it shame anger's noble rank and seek illicitly for her return.... Oh, my torture is of decision... but hers is of fear and darkness, the such she dreaded is smaller years when my bent and weary arm would take from her the horrible dancing threats abounding at my figure's retreat.

And I falter? Should I dare withold my buxom arm from her plight, seeking final rest... That Zeuss too has a belly he shall feel... and need he'll want. His thunderbolts discarded as he will, better he'd lie still and wait for his corn... The stars don't feed his strength and his violence will inflict itself upon its usurper in most ironic form. Be damned as you have done your child.

Sometimes

Sometimes caught in
passion
Sometimes in a still
glassy Sea
Mirrors of being
as the trees
knowingly draw
near to me

The Night Sky

It's raining stars
Showers of Joy
Against the crystal
clear sky
Or is it just a frame
plucked from a dark
night

Spring?

Spring, hidden
beneath a clever
Sky, which hides
its mysteries
from the eye

Trees

What do trees do
I know they
silently grow
But what do they do
When they are
threatened
Do you know?

clouds

The clouds
cumulus
white and telling
of events
yet locked within
The prism of Time

Increasing happiness

I further recommend as a measure to increase happiness throughout the world that these appalling experiments on animals stop. These ugly people perpetrating this vile cruelty are greatly adding to the world dilemma.

We have to be careful

The beauty of
the trees
one only sees
when one leaves
the leaves alone

Love

I love my friends
All prizes gained at
The winning posts of life
All pools of beauty
surrounding me as a wife

Killing

What's worse?
Killing by words
the tongue of the knife
or brutally knocking
someone down and killing them
in mental strife, invariably
caused by the words of the
knife
for we are all at it, killing
each other one way or the other
we kill our brother and sister
or baby with wrong mothering
destroying souls by our education
systems, greed or envy
and not preparing each other for life
The potentially beautiful wife to
the soul

Individuals

Free will varies from person to person -
The amount of it they have I mean
Some have none, some have some and
some do as they please

A few more tips

The destitute could earn a living by blessing people for money. It's easily done.

And still more tips

I wonder why we are always pointing fingers. We ourselves aren't absolutes and neither is anyone else. Our opinions are coloured by our experiences; the effect the planets have on us and on the piece of the planet where we live and the energies coming from within the earth, and of course we are influenced by language. We are all right just for ourselves and to help some on their journies through life.