Imagination

featured in the poetry forum January 29, 2024  :: 0 comments

I follow the fairy down the garden path
Searching here and there for the pot of gold
Skipping joyfully my mind out of synch
With the drudgery of the everyday world
Holding hands with some ethereal substance
Gleefully singing the words of ancient druids
Oh the scent of nightstock and climbing roses
I greet more fairies and we dance in a circle
Tripping over our long gowns so we dropped them
And danced and sang sublimely in the moonlight
We seemed to be of one sex or none no one bothered
The cup of wine was passed and we covered our nakedness
As the moon grew faint and the pink peach of the sun
Touched our senses and we kissed goodbye till next time.

editors note:

Imagine that! Really, imagine it. – mh clay

The Summer Wind

featured in the poetry forum November 13, 2023  :: 0 comments

The Summer Wind is strong
It winds through the valley
And high on this ridge
Majestic with a strength that
Seems to blow all sense of now
Into oblivion and a little fear
Of joining the wind’s wings
And taking flight to the unknown.
But when it calms a little the warm
Sensation is lovely it blows my hair
Like a wild creature caressing its cub.
All cares vanish at the realisation
Of harnessing this wild strength
In this curving possibility as this
Savage Summer Wind tells us its story
Of endurance and acceptance.

editors note:

As temperatures drop, we’ll be wishing for this touch again. – mh clay

1966…..

featured in the poetry forum June 19, 2022  :: 0 comments

Go… and find your own way
Or have adoption if you stay
The screams the hurt all stone
So away from home struggling
I left, so all alone.
My purse all empty but for
Pounds two and twenty
My suitcase with I know not now
My big sister crying do not go.
I was to marry in six weeks
But babies cause funny tweaks
And every day as I was ill
The signs were noted without skill
To understand ‘cause I was young
A new young life had already begun
So my love he came for me he
Traveled fast to take me free
Into his arms where I belong
I left in tears and cried for years
And love that child through many fears
So friends left my life family and kin
Because I broke the status quo
Of marriage first but no one knows
The stress of knowing why they tried
To stop our love and keep me tied
To family and the only way
To be docile and so correct and
Never let outside suspect
That no one could put us apart
A Romeo who loved his Juliette
With all his heart

editors note:

But, unlike R&J, this tragedy has a happy ending. – mh clay

Monkey Business 2022

featured in the poetry forum December 27, 2021  :: 0 comments

Walk in the rain feel it cleanse
The tired mind of the past
As sunshine revives the
Truth that is another day
Another year to fulfill the
Joy of living in a happy
Jungle skipping like children
Climbing as cheeky monkeys
Rain down gifts from trees
In this New Year of 2022
Read a book learn a poem
Say hello to a friend and
Kiss goodbye to the past.

editors note:

Kiss one goodbye to hug the other hello. Cheeky! – mh clay

Mediterranean

featured in the poetry forum September 12, 2021  :: 0 comments

My mind is full of nothing
It hurts to think when lonely
The sand likes to take my footprints
And the sea drinks them oblivious
To my sense of being annihilated
By the beauty of rushing water.
Sea, my solace harbors dreams
Dreams of lands that it strokes like
Lovers softly touch the beloved
The waves wrap rocks and hesitate
Gushing back to gather force…
I await the dancing sea
To draw me from my loneliness.

editors note:

Solace in solitude from the sea. – mh clay

Lockdown…

featured in the poetry forum June 27, 2020  :: 0 comments

This was even better,
a full stop privacy.

It was there. There,
in the middle of the vineyard

stark in the midday sun.
Like a hangman’s dream

it loomed into her consciousness
taking over her compliant existence.

Her adult life was a quest laid out
by a higher order, or so it seemed.

Lack of control over so many circumstances
and nothing to help.

Her well of ideas floundered every time.
That was one of her problems

lack of freedom to think and find a way
to explain one’s particular existence.

And a way to accept and choose one’s part,
a player in the amazing dramas of life.

Thoughts like these flitted through
her consciousness, escaped and returned.

Who does not search for explanations
the existentialist question about life

and reality of existence, one’s particular life
and the why and wherefore of everything?

Hers was a mind that hungered for answers.
She thought that everyone else had the answers.

She sat under the tree, shaded
by its dark gaunt branches…

she sought trees with this kind
of architectural growth…

a Beckett tree, she privately mused.

Slowly, she drank from the bottle
Clutched tightly, in her tired hand.

editors note:

Making progress during YOUR lockdown? Clutch that bottle and drink… – mh clay

Disconnected

featured in the poetry forum April 12, 2020  :: 0 comments

She looks out through the windowpane
Sea and sky have blended to one
Yachts moored with tall moaning masts
In the harbor of discontent
Reflect the feel of the nation
And the blasting inertia rains on limbs
As the wealthy prepare to sail.

The sunrise is perfect delight
Sunset is a fire raging mad
Class war is hidden in purple rage
As nations pretend to vote again.

editors note:

Some clamor to be heard. What they miss are ears to listen. – mh clay

Chained

featured in the poetry forum March 23, 2019  :: 1 comment

Homeland has first appeal
Until the finite break

The unfiltered air spits
Troubled feelings on me

No weather sun or salt
Desires my reasoning

I long for warm childhood
Theirs and mine long put abed

This bothered place I love
Unfettered criticism

Only binds my music sounds
Of heart and falling tear

As I leave them for France
Always afraid to go.

editors note:

Emigrant, immigrant; regardless of perspective, home is our objective. – mh clay

A Sad Bastard of Syria

featured in the poetry forum November 12, 2018  :: 0 comments

I broke into your soul and wondered where I was
Dante’s inferno was a rest home in comparison
Colours of your cruelty met me, envy greens of
Jealousy and raw red of anger with the purple
Of rage and the stinging smell of badness engulfed
Me as I shivered and tried to shrive your shadow
What conception birthed a mongrel so gross so lacking?
What is a soul that has no connection to humanity?
I broke into your soul not to heal you nor to understand
The whirling dance that you have ascribed as yours
Is the melting pot dance of all the Devils of Hades
My goodness is eroded by your evil as you contaminate
I broke into your soul to find a devil equal to your hate
There is none

editors note: Do you, once in, attempt to assuage? Or, hightail it the hell out of there? – mh clay

La Belle France

featured in the poetry forum March 28, 2018  :: 0 comments

My French friends nurture the empty spaces
Laid bare by malignant ideologies and guns
Young and old, no sorting out of creed or culture
An aged priest of religion gently praising his God
A teddy bear witnessing the child’s life ended.

Music as painkiller, music as memory, scents
And coffee, and croissant crumbling like death
Hot sun blazing on cold bodies breathless
And still we need to make eye contact continuing
The conversation with those with whom our difference
Need never be a death sentence.

editors note:

Imagine that; eye contact, conversation. Difference without death. Are we listening, America? – mh clay