Silent Alarm for Friend David Threadgold
The darkness hosts a multitude
of atavistic memories.
which influence our attitude
Towards the things we cannot see.
The hunting owl which quietly
on noiseless wings seeks out his prey.
His night tuned eyes can clearly see
as if it was as bright as day.
Some see him as an enemy
and view his passage with alarm.
Although he’s acting naturally
with no intent to cause them harm.
Men fear the dark which seems to be
a breeding ground for ancient fears
embedded inescapably
in memories from their forebears.
Their fear of being eaten by
some marauding predator
which pounces on them from the sky.
Man will recall for evermore.
15-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Are you afraid of the dark for M' lady Tara
The silent shadows secretly
hide in dark corners through the day.
They are aware that they must wait
until nightfall to congregate.
In the open and combine
into something man can’t define.
An entity with one desire
to terrify and to inspire.
In the hearts and minds of men
old atavistic memories
The fears their forbears knew again
from which they can gain no release,
As long as total darkness reigns
When dawn breaks; then the sun will rise.
The shadows flee to hide again.
Conceal them selves from human eyes..
As always they will lie in wait
in hidden corners out of sight.
Patiently to congregate
to celebrate the fall of night.
When shadows come into their own.
Reviving mankind’s ancient fears
of darkness when daylight has flown.
As they have done for countless years,
and will for all the years to come.
Although the modern man believes
Such foolish fears he’ll overcome
It’s only himself he deceives.
13/05/2009
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What nonsense is this?
I see the moon, the moon sees me but she sees more than I can see.
I am earth bound I cannot fly but she serenely floats on high
and bathes world in silver light. Which can relieve the darkest night.
She grants to all men equally, sufficient light for them to see.
The cloak of darkness does not hide, lying in wait for prey outside
werewolves, vampires, ghosts and ghouls. The flying predators are owls,
that haunt the night on noiseless wings in search of mice and smaller things.
The silver moonlight reassures to some extent but does not cure.
ancestral fears. Although far fetched are nonetheless so deeply etched
in the collective memories of human kind. The vague unease
which is still felt by men today when darkness falls and night holds sway.
Of course does not apply to us, just to the superstitious.
18-Aug-08
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Scotland calling.
Scotland Calling.
A land of glens and mountain streams.
Chuckling softly as they flow
A land that haunts the exiles dreams
with memories of long ago.
The dreams they have inherited.
Passed down inside their DNA.
Although some doubts are merited
It seems to be the only way.
We can explain memories
of places we have never seen.
Though scattered through the colonies
It seems embedded in our genes.
Is an urge which prompts us to.
Visit the land our forebears knew.
Saturday,28 August 2010
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Tribute to W.E.Henley
Out of the night which covers me
Black as the pit from pole to pole.
I thank whatever Gods there be.
For my unconquerable soul.
Invictus. W.E.Henley 1849 -1903
A glosa
Out of the night that covers me.
I shall emerge into sunlight
The darkness holds no fears for me.
My goddess will preserve my sight.
Black as the pit from pole to pole
but I care not why should I fear
As I step out towards my goal.
Each pace I take brings it more near.
I thank whatever Gods there be
who reinforce my attitude.
I know they are protecting me.
I offer them my gratitude.
For my unconquerable soul.
I fear no foe no enemy
I have already paid the toll
the price which was required of me.
Tuesday,29 December 2009
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Shadow Dancers for M 'lady Amy
The shadow which throughout the day
have hidden quietly away.
In nooks and crannies which they know
Day is their time for lying low.
When darkness falls come out to play.
Although the sunlight rules the day.
The silver moon’s in charge by night
and she has granted them the right.
To freely frolic through the night
they do not fear her gentle light.
Though when the sunrise lights the skies.
They hide again if they are wise.
Perhaps the sleep all through the day
I do not know I cannot say.
I only know it’s my delight
to see the shadows dance at night.
They can appear and disappear
but they are far too fast I fear.
For human eyes to clearly see
the shadows dancing gracefully.
Our eyes accustomed to the light
don’t work efficiently at night.
Though sometimes watching quietly
You see them dancing silently.
17-Jan-09
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Grown men do cry
Old memories which linger still.
Can bring the tear drops to my eyes
Sometimes they take me by surprise
and cause my tears to freely spill.
I’m not afraid to say they do.
There is no reason I should be.
My memories both old and new
are an integral part of me.
Sometimes they’re tears of happiness
and I am smiling through my tears.
Though other tears recall sadness
that I have suffered through the years.
Old memories reminding me
of joy and sorrow equally.
Monday,09 November 2009
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Your Place
I awaken-- in the soft darkness.
Alone-- but yet not lonely,
Your place --beside me in our bed
Is filled-- with memories of you
Only-- you of all women could
With--your constancy leave such sweet
Memories-- that comfort me still.
13-Dec-08
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The River Knows
Englyn unodle crwca
Quietly the river flows
never telling all it knows.
Has no reason I suppose and no voice.
We rejoice it does.
Whilst the river holds its peace.
We need not fear it might release,
From its store of memories: Dark secrets.
It forgets and heeds our pleas.
Secrets which we wish to hide.
We can cast our cares aside.
The wise river will decide, not to tell.
suits us well, all denied
Sins we now view with regret
.Sins we would we could forget
The river will keep secret for ever
and never cause upset.
Tuesday,09 February 2010
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Night visions
I do not fear the dark, my eyes
adjust so that I can see.
The beauties which would otherwise
be hidden by the night from me.
To walk abroad alone by night
seems only natural to me
Quite different from brighter light
the sun provides consistently.
It is a different world by night
the garish colours of the day.
Have been replaced by black and white
as beautiful in their own way.
As anything you see by day
The muted colours softening
harsh outlines in a subtle way
Moving shadows intertwining.
Produce in me serenity
A mood the quietness inspires
I stroll enwrapped in reverie
as often as my heart desires
I can look back nostalgically
recalling how thing used to be
or look ahead and try to see
what the future holds for me.
I see the darkness as a friend
For me it holds no mystery
I know for sure I can depend
upon the quiet night to be.
A time when I can meditate
and view my world quite differently.
Which will let me appreciate
all of the beauty which I see.
Although some people fear the night
and find the silence frightening.
To walk by night is my delight
I find the quietness soothing.
11-Oct-08
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Faded photograph
A snapshot taken years ago.
Somewhat lacking clarity.
Of some young guys I used to know
In fact the skinny one is me.
The other two I can recall,
their faces well but not their names
Although I try nothing at all.
My memory is playing games
I wonder where they are today
I wonder if they remember me
The passing years erode away
your memories ability.
To regain any access to
some things you know that you once knew
Monday,13 February 2012
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Who goes there? for friend Thad
By the rosy light of dawn.
A squirrel chatters noisily
as if his duty is to warn.
a task which takes seriously
He warns them all that draw near.
Although in fact I mean no harm
Wild creatures swiftly disappear
in response to his shrill alarm.
They can’t afford to take the chance
so they react instinctively
The price of life is vigilance
and that is why I seldom see
Wild creatures who quite naturally
conceal themselves and hide from me.
20/04/2009
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Shedding a little light on the past for M 'lady Ernestine
A candle in a paper boat
Placed on the water carefully
Then lit before its set afloat
Recalls a racial memory.
Of funeral pyres in days of old
Of longships burning in the night.
The records that our memories hold.
Transformed by the candle light
on paper boats we set adrift.
It’s just a little game to us
But memories can slowly lift
the veil that’s separating us.
Two worlds existing side by side.
Long may these memories abide.
Tuesday,08 December 2009
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Live and let live
A long abandoned grave yard lies
outside the city boundary.
It has become a paradise,
A well established sanctuary.
Unwanted pets turned out to roam
by cruel owners who don’t care.
Are welcome here to make a home
amongst their wilder brethren there.
beside the graves in disrepair
or in the brambles overgrown.
They are quite sure to find a lair,
some place that they can call their own.
Although the predators still prey
They’re only acting naturally
by following Dame Natures way.
They co exist quite happily.
Eat or be eaten is the law.
You will not get a second chance
for nature’s red in tooth and claw.
The price of life is vigilance.
At least they live free from fear
of mans unthinking cruelty
Few humans ever venture near
this abandoned cemetery.
13-Aug-08
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Now you know for MLady Ann Beard
Without a light no shadow can
display itself before your eyes.
Although the light be pale and wan
it can a shadow realise.
The shadows dance upon the wall.
When tapers flicker in the breeze.
They mean and do no harm at all.
But dowse the flame and shadows cease.
Fear not the dark without a light.
You only need to kindle flame,
then shadows dance for your delight.
The shadows to the light source came.
Beware the man with no shadow
and no reflection in the glass.
These are the signs by which you know
your worst nightmare has come to pass.
You have become a vampire’s prey.
You don’t believe such tales are true,
that vampires walk the earth today.
A single bite will convince you.
26-May-08
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Freethinker for J.T.Ellison
Freethinker
I do believe that memory can be passed down genetically
Encoded in our D.N.A Although I know the experts say
My theory’s unsustainable, there is no proof obtainable.
For all their professed expertise. My theory causes them unease.
They are afraid I might be right. It could explain why men take fright.
When darkness falls and they can’t see, arousing repressed memories
Of long ago when men were prey which linger to the present day
Although the experts can’t explain the workings of the human brain.
The experts say it can’t be so: They know less than they think they know.
I don’t accept the experts view I see no reason I should do
I still believe that memory can be passed down genetically.
Encoded in our D.N.A. No matter what the experts say.
They cannot force me to agree for I think independently
31/05/2009
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Eyes: those tragic eyes,
It was her eyes, those tragic eyes
The saddest eyes I ever saw.
That made me start to realise.
The price that children pay for war.
Those eyes had seen brutalities
no innocent should ever see
She haunted still by memories
from which I fear she can’t break free.
I look into her eyes and see
that she expects nothing from me.
She has no hope that there might be
an ending to her misery.
Although I know I’m not to blame
I still feel guilty all the same.
Though we protest our innocence
in our attempts to rationalise.
What can we say in self defence.
That is not based on blatant lies.
It makes me frankly furious
that innocents should suffer so
The guilt belongs to all of us.
We can’t pretend we did not know
That we should learn from history
instead of choosing to ignore
Because we do not want to see.
There are no winners in a war.
I can’t forget those empty eyes
They’ll haunt me ‘til the day I die.
Monday,08 November 2010
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Open invitation for M 'lady Lucianne
Just loose your hold and come with me.
Explore the worlds of fantasy,
strange places only dreamers see
There is no charge it is quite free.
Decide where you would like to be
and we will travel rapidly.
Borne on the wings of poetry.
There is nothing for you to fear
reality won’t disappear.
You can’t escape so easily.
29-Apr-08
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Stalker for M Lady Anita atina
The opalescent mists of dawn
within their luminosity.
Conceal a roe deer and her fawn
from idle curiosity.
But shutterbugs will wait all night
for such an opportunity.
To photograph for our delight
the kind of scene we seldom see.
Recording for posterity
with digital technology
invading family privacy.
I think perhaps forgivably.
There is no reason for alarm
this kind of stalker does no harm.
29-Apr-08
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House Hunting for M lady Ann Beard
Some houses seem to welcome you.
You feel at ease immediately.
It is if the walls recall
What happened here and store it all.
The triumphs and the tragedies
Firm memories of past events
Have been recorded faithfully
Each and every incident.
If you are at all sensitive
You tune into the ambience,
the positive and negative.
Impinge somehow so you can sense.
That something dreadful happened here
It may be faint it may be strong
but it affects the atmosphere.
You know at once this house is wrong
You’re certain that it will not do.
You have no doubt, no doubt at all
You know the house is telling you
it has no choice it must recall
All the unpleasant memories
which it has stored so faithfully.
For decades perhaps centuries.
You choose to leave immediately.
The next house which you choose to view
affects you in a different way.
It seems prepared to welcome you.
You can decide without delay
It is not hard to make the choice
This is the house that you will buy
You listen to that house’s voice
because you know it cannot lie.
You go ahead complete the deal
prepare to move in right away
You are content because you feel
that everything has gone your way.
You know that it was meant to be
It’s all that you were looking for.
This house responds positively
You need not look at any more.
21/07/2009
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A true measure for J.T, Ellison
The measure of a life is not
the length of time from birth to death.
Nor the possessions you have got
or what you say with your last breath
But what you did whilst you were here.
The joy and happiness you shared
with those you loved and held most dear.
With total strangers if you dared.
If all your kind deeds can outweigh
the things you did which you regret.
As through the world you made your way,
and folks are willing to forget.
Your little foibles faults and flaws
because you did more good than harm.
As you tried to steer your course
through the rough waters to the calm.
Your worth is only measured by
The memories you leave behind.
this is a truth I can’t deny.
To which I have become resigned.
26-May-08
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