It doesn’t have to be like this
fractured
when we share so much
It doesn’t need to be like this
brothers
We all have another way
together
Sisters.
Children.
It doesn’t have to be like this
fractured
when we share so much
It doesn’t need to be like this
brothers
We all have another way
together
Sisters.
Children.
Summer day on the hill
A short walk out on the hill today
Making my way up the country lane
A mile and a half there and back
The Ash trees are weighed
With bundles of samara
The rowan berries
Filling beginning
To slowly change
To that bright orange
Hawthorns stacked
With umbles of berries
And the beginnings
Of that red blush
That will fill thrushes
During winter days
And oaks show
The small green acorns
That will fill and grow
And squirrels and crows
Will feed on them
When days turn cold
And the old crab trees
On that wet lane corner
crowded with tiny
red tinged apples
An old tree fallen
Lies on its side
With an eye watching.
RAC
Out on the mountain watching the rain move in
From the Severn Channel thinking I was caught
Walking boggy ground on the old Miskin Estate
But I stood still watching as the rain grey shroud
Passing me by covered the dim domed lower hills
I found myself listening out there to the wind blow
Soughing its sighs through the conifer plantation
Blasted and flattened by a New Year gale that felled
The woodlands on the hill tops and frosted high slopes
So that in the morning it looked as if a battle or war
had broken out while we slept off the New Year party
It was a scene of desolation walking through forests
Like some Paul Nash painting of shattered Ypres trees
Fifteen years later the trees have still not recovered
The walls of the estate built to enclose common land
Have fallen too and are now used in places to make paths
Where the land is wet and poached by cattle hooves
But although these long dry stone walls have tumbled
We have different kinds of walls built to close us in
This relentless psychologised industrial consumerism
That inflicts its message on the first day of a child’s birth
You need, you want and you can’t ever get enough.
In the “White Goddess” Robert Graves wrote that poetry – “Once a warning to man that he must keep in harmony with the family of living creatures among which he was born….it is now a reminder that he has disregarded the warning, turned the house upside down by capricious experiments in science, philosophy and industry, and brought ruin upon himself and his family.” (From The call of the wild: Paul Kingsnorth The Guardian Essay Saturday 23rd July 2016).
There is no measure
For the correct time
To heal and recover.
So now healing
Is by measure
To heal and recover.
There is a quick fix
A couple of weeks
To heal and recover?
There is no measure
For the correct time
To heal and recover.
The soul ah the soul
The time to heal
The time to recover.
We talk of the mind
No talk of the soul
And the time to recover
There is no measure
For the correct time
To heal and recover.
We talk of the mind
No talk of the spirit
And the time to recover.
Wounds not visible
Wounds not measurable
Wounds not vocalised.
Wounds.
Time takes time
In its own time.
Young
I’m old
By others standards
Experience
And a life lived
Apparently
I dispute my years
I don’t fit the new
My gauge isn’t set the same
How you feel
Is what really matters
I see adverts for new
and young poets
I am now silenced
In what I write
Apparently
But through my life
I have done great things
Helped heal a child
So many children
Over the years
Spoken to the soul
Of another
And another
Urged a smile
And reinstalled hope
In so many
I have never been silent
I live with my eyes
Wide open
Listening.
RAC.
My daughter arrives
A bunch of flowers
Tulips and Irises
The simple
Understanding
Of a first born child.
So this is town planning
great views too
so they say
can’t see it myself.
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Tumse Na Ho Payega
Write what you feel, coz it doesn't make you fear. A doctor by profession and writer by passion✌️
Emotional musings
storytelling the world
~{LOVE IS THE ANSWER|HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT}~
…where poems and drawings breathe
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"I have enough time to rest, but I don't have a minute to waste". Come and catch me with your wise words and we will have some fun with our words of wisdom.
You & Your Health
Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.