A Solitary Star

a solitary star once burned bright in his eyes
it was the light that had kept him alive
it was the fire that stoked his imagination
it was the little boy left behind inside him

waving from the past as if from a photograph
the one that never got picked for the team
the one that pressed flowers from the park
the one that collected old postage stamps

making his way through life as best he could
dodging the verbal bullets of school bullies
dodging the beliefs that might tie him down
dodging false accusations from those who wrongly judged

perhaps the hardest lessons he never learned
that people could be so cruel to each other
that people thought only of themselves
that people cared little for the welfare of animals

dolphins and killer whales kept captive for entertainment
he joined the ranks of the angry minorities
he spoke out against injustice and inequality
he turned and walked away from confrontation

ever, ever, ever, would the world change?
time was running out for that little boy
time was catching up with his tired bones
time was mocking him with deafening silence

until one day it would all be deadly quiet
and he would sleep the sleep of all men gone before
and he would hear only birdsong and distant waves
and he would no longer be remembered

thankful would be his prayers
warm would be the sun on his face
peace would be his at long last…

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Meddle Music

Lying here under a warm sun
Everything seems so far away
Pink Floyd are playing with my ears

“a cloud of eiderdown draws around me softening the sound”

I like to write dreamy word poems
Imagine them painted on your mind
Know that they touched you in a certain way
That maybe only my words could set you free

“and I rise like a bird in the haze and the first rays touch the sky”

But it seems the moments may just have been illusory
The dolphin’s dive just a memory
A silenced splash in a forgotten sea

“Behold a dream, the dream is gone”

The cicadas fill the night with their incessant cries
Each one sounds so lonely and lost
As the full moon slips over the hill one last time

“and the candle dies”

 

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(italicised lyrics taken from the song ‘A Pillow of Winds’ by Pink Floyd
from the 1971 album Meddle)

Painted Rocks

I wake
to a blank morning
your tears stain the pillow
like drops of memories left abandoned
on a melted heartbeat burned
and charred under this equatorial sun

another step closer the edge
another deep breath

a paradise for tourists
a flaming hell for the unbelonging
glinting sunlight on wave after wave
crests diamond studded and jewel reflected
as far as your eye could never see
when blinded by such darkness

another step closer the edge
another deep breath

I relive your last moments
imagine your plight
but it is unfathomable
lost to me on a dolphin’s dive
you are simply gone now
another name on a painted rock

another step closer the edge
another deep breath

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(this piece links to my previous post – the memorial to those who had committed suicide by jumping from a cliff on Gran Canaria. I tend to use the theme of wide open spaces – sea, sky, deserts, highways – in which to arrange and hang my imagination. I try to leave enough room between my words for readers to place their own interpretations –  a dreamy vagueness perhaps. I might use this idea of linking from one post to the next as an aid to writing and exploring different subject matter. It is all too easy to get bogged down with the same old words and never realise that your writing has stagnated).