The Common Sea Of Humanity

‘the sea so deep it never sleeps
by day or night it lives on... [perpetual] fight
against... [embattled] rocky coast
which is... [weathered worthy opponent] host

rushing ramming against...
[sea sculptured mountainside]...
[wave action causes whirlpool, boiling
swirling whirling, eddy rolling] quick fast dive

down below [flotsam surface]
its [more serene] calmer here
for no [crushing roaring] waves roll [disturbing
equilibrium as violently] way down here...’

Undercurrents are true demarcation lines
interactive beneath apparent surface of all things.

Surge tempest storm blasted vibrant sea,
so immensely powerful so immensely deep;
even in vortex hurricane force gale,
aquatic seascape to denizens lulls to sleep.

Wondrous sea home of seaborne eons
conceals creates multiple timeless mysteries
hidden by day by night through countless eternities.

The echo of something buried is amplified in seashells roaring.
The echo of something buried is drumming in cerebral inheritance.
The echo of something buried is shrouded in serpentine chromosomes.

What forces in life savagely bark for separation?

Humanity is under an interdict to wander
as kernel Edenic sentence of declensions infused.
Endemic to pernicious nature.
Is healing quest for racial refuge.
A better world is shore. Whole shoal must swim for.


Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Poetic fragment surviving lines 1–12 written in1974. Alterations to surviving fragment and the conclusion of this poem, were written on May 19th 1999.

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The Sea So Deep

the sea so deep
it never sleeps
by day or night
it lives on the fight

against the rocky coast
which is its host
rushing ramming
against its side
then it (wave water) does
a quick fast dive.

down below
its calmer there
for no waves roll
way down here

ocean surge
current swell
foaming water
tales to tell

marine life dwells
in tidal margins
lunar pull water turns
undercurrents chargin


Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Poetic fragment surviving lines 1–14 written when I was thirteen.

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Echo

Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Everywhere I go
There's something I really need
Everyone I know
Is someone I want to be
Even though
I don't really know me
I better pick it up
Before I let it slip away
I better stick it out
Before I take another day
Into mouth
Everything I say fades out
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Can I open up your eyes?
Only when the clouds break?
Can I feel the light?
Even though the world shakes
Every night,
You're my quiet satellite
Can I hold you close?
Do her out of focus
And everything I know
I don't even know this
It all falls through
I'm here and I hear you
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Cause I need to, just to reach you
Do you hear me?
Coming clearly?
Am I hollow?
Just an echo
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...
Echo, echo...
We come, we go-woah
No I don't want to be just another
Echo, echo...

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Maybe Baby

I heard stories about you
Id like to think that they were true
I did not know youd be like that
With those surprises under hat
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
When you dance between the stars
In the night late sweet and dark
Turn them over one by one
You dont need to jump the gun
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
When the night is feeling flush
And when the night is all a hush
Electric look eclectic blue
Keep one dream that wont come true
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my maybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my ma-aybe baby
Be my (echo), be my (echo), be my ma-aybe baby
Maybe baby
Maybe baby
Be my, be my, be my, be my maybe baby
Maybe baby
Maybe baby
Youre the one (? )
Maybe baby
Maybe baby
Maybe baby
Be my, be my, be my, be my maybe baby
(unintelligible) maybe baby
I heard stories about you
Id like to think that they were true
Be my maybe (? )
Be my, be my, be my, be my
(fade)

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Line Hidden Wisdom Written

poems light insight fine written
are encapsulated a sacred life force...
for it is mist time task appointed
to ancient soul divine poet to render...

lust fallen foolish humanity worthy
when seeking spiritual redemption...
through line hidden wisdom written
within sealed lines, in a starlit poem...

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Buried Alive

I speak in verses prophecies and curses
I speak in verses prophecies and curses
I hate my life
The miracle is coming its just a hole
Nothings wrong with you, just maintain control
Everyones asking questions, your place is safe
Ill forfeit resurrection to escape the pain
I hate my life
I hate my life
I HATE MY LIFE
(I hate my life)
I HATE MY LIFE
(I hate my life)
I HATE MY LIFE
(I hate my life)
I speak in verses prophecies and curses
The storm of thorns is growing
There is no end in sight
Chaos claws my jaw
Thank Metal riot
Im in the mouth of madness with this tongue of poetry
I ate the spine of atlas, now the world is crushing me
I hate my life
I hate my life
I HATE MY LIFE
(I hate my life)
I HATE MY LIFE
(I hate my life)
I HATE MY LIFE
(I hate my life)
Buried behind enemy lines
Surrogate child for the sins of all mankind
Buried alive behind enemy lines (Buried Alive Buried Alive)
Buried alive behind enemy lines (Buried Alive Buried Alive)
Buried alive behind enemy lines (Buried Alive Buried Alive)
For the sins of all mankind

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Artistic Consummations Unending

Man when it comes to romance
commitment to long term courtship
speak not of rocking artistic me;
and my constant consistent courtship
with my dated loose laying poetry.

In more than twenty
predominantly neglected years
I’ve never been through them all;
caught up with my neglected years
my dated draft diary entries.

I’ve got so many
loose lines lines lines
hanging heavy in my restless head;
I can never get them lines
all laid down right.


There’s too many
to save, for, a rainy day.
Multiple droplets; in their hundreds trillions;
adorn, all objects; visible on rainy days.
Hang from, transformed, rain dewed trees.

But even when the sun is still shining.
I’m still two timing, multiple poetic pieces.
I’m still too time starved; for catch up poetic binding.
I’m afraid I’m never, going to get written pieces,
through; to that last eternally unwritten line.

Hanging out waiting around for me
in expectation, of artistically, desired pick up.
When will such a courtship; finally end?
When the muse may, no longer, dances up,
her dazzling; or simplistic lines entwining me.

When I’m too tired to write my nights
my days, my artistic life, poetically away.
Then poetry will find; another poet to daze;
for days, for nights; to artistic life write away.
Then poetry will find, another poet, to courtship bard.


Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Written in July 1999 on the 17.7.99.

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If You Go Out In The Woods Today!

“If you enter
dark
woods beware

evil hides
bidden in
mysteries rare”


I cannot be story book boy
who sings loudly enough
to overcome face the fear!

Nor am I the one who shouts
'Hello, this is not my story! '
Nor the one who cries wolf!

I am not cannot be that boy
I am cast the fool that walks ever
forward ever onward boldly

where angels fear to tread
and I do so love mysteries
myths legends await hero!


The conquest climb is not over
when great peak is climbed
but when mountaineer returns!

Where better adventurer buried
than rooftop of an entire world
where dreams touch horizon sky?

Like fear evil is best conquered killed within!
Evil is fought faced because it exists memorial!
True hero cannot face evil always quest survive!


Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Quoted lines from ‘Tales Of The Brothers Grimm’ by Terence George Craddock.

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Birth Of The ‘Shepherdess’

The ‘Shepherdess’ arrived at
Constant Bay on Sunday
afternoon 1879 31st August
sea calm virtually no wind
but no harbourmaster on duty

she lay off the entrance harbour
until the following morning
awaiting signalled to enter port
light breeze weather fine clear

attempting to tow the schooner
‘Shepherdess’ into port
through narrow rocky entrance
using a dinghy surf boat
to secure anchorage mooring rocks

suddenly a large wave swamped
stout dinghy threw
Thomas Bailie, Charles Craddock
into tidal sea surge
Bailie managed to clamber back

into surf boat then pulled dragged
Charles Craddock
back in but tragically immediately
a second wave smashed
into the boat, overturned the boat

again two men are thrown into surf
what wave force
second wave overturned the dinghy
impossible to right
no option but try to swim for shore

pounding surf smashed valiant efforts
into ocean inlet
floor time time again, each try time
it hope appeared
they might reach safety, wild breakers

drove two back, while crowd watched
life drama helplessly
two men struggled, desperately constantly
for their mortal lives
none attempted, dive into boiling waters

none thought to throw hope a rope
a large crowd gathered
perhaps none could swim wild tide
finally a rope was found
they tried to throw to struggling men

three times four more rope was flung
delay was to late
weak limbs could not grab last hope
too late too late
Thomas Bailie made a desperate lunge

for last life spent ebb hope the rope
gasps watchers eyes
Bailie starfish clings hung with tenacity
a man who surely knew
to release life thread was to brine drown

Bailie was dragged from sea by watchers
on a rocky shore
but Charles Craddock was spent exhausted
by fearsome struggle
could not swim in could not swim reach rope

Charles sank beneath waves once twice
re-surfaced struggles
struggles shoreward struggles Charles sank
below waves third
time last time Charles was gone lost lost...

to a brine grave while wild breakers
breaking broadside
across the ‘Shepherdess’ bumped
schooner toward port
good news tragedy overshadowed

Charles Craddock in death left a wife
three children in 1879
body swept away never recovered
a fortnight accident after
a leg was washed ashore duly buried

this leg was buried in Charleston cemetery
a belief in Craddock family
maintains though event was not recorded
in cemetery burial records
Constant Bay life lost in adverse conditions.


See also the poem ‘Where Unknown Ancestors Died’.

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Echo

Put down your things and rest awhile
You know weve both nowhere to go
Yeah, daddy had to crash
He was always halfway there you know
And no, I dont pretend theres any more of that
They say one day, youll look up and laugh and hear
The same sad echo when you walk
Yeah, the same sad echo when you talk loud and clear
Its the same as the same sad echo around here
I promise you this winter
I will worship you like gold
And ride your train forever
Electric fortunes to be told
And I dont want to question or even celebrate
All the joy you took and then gave back too late
Its the same sad echo when you lie
Its the same sad echo when you try to be clear
Its the same as the same sad echo around here
Well, I woke up right here
In a pool of sweat
With a box of pills and you
Yeah, and Im gonna keep my head
Im gonna keep my cool
Oh, Im so in love with you
Yes and in another world nothing was like this
There may have been a girl
There never was a kiss
The poison came in liquid
She was naked all the time
And no one could explain it
It was all between the lines
And I dont seem to trust anyone no more
It could be faith Im just not sure
Its the same sad echo every day
Yeah the same sad echo another way
When you call
Its the same as the same sad echo most of all
Well you just got tired
You just gave in
You took it hard
Then you just quit
You let me down
You dropped the ball
You fell on your face most of all
And I dont want to mean anything to you
I dont want to tempt you to be true
Its the same sad echo comin down
Its the same sad echo all around in my ears
Its the same as the same sad echo around here

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No Poem Is An Original

No poem is an original
everyone who writes
poetry thinks their poem
was an original, it just so
happens that their poem just
surfaced to the top
of their mind first, so they
were able to write it.

Everyone has love, hate
compassion buried deep
in their soul.

Poets are able to bring
all of this to the surface,
to construct, add the words,
but it is not an original
idea, for the poet because
they wrote it now, it
becomes an original for them.

Who has not heard a song,
read a poem, story or book,
seen a movie and said,
to themselves, hey I had
that same idea.

Only thing is, someone else
brought it to the surface
of the mind, and wrote it first.
Even this poem I'm writing
now is not an original
someone out there
has this idea buried
deep in their soul.

So if you have an idea
for a poem, get busy
write it, don't wait,
or you won't write an original
start today,
don't delay.

wrote 2-2-07

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Equipoise

My first book is the fruitful sea
the second the abiding shore.

Movement rising power
of kinetic almighty wave

against solid mass of rigid;
immobile reluctant shore.

Forces balanced in equilibrium.

Equipoise state of equality
balance of weight or force;

equilibrium; nature
counterbalances; balance

in social emotional
intellectual influence.


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Beacon Fires Upon The Shore

Silent shadow ships
still sail saline seas
spent storm reborn
unobserved
phantom minstrels
unrecorded
uncharted spectres
ink fading entries
in official antique ledger.

Oh resurgent resurrection joy
forthwith lamp-lit weather
watching fleet flying fully rigged
schooner clipper windjammer
cut saline tacking windward course
through grinding salt-spitting teeth
of fabled force-ten gale or savage storm
while attempting to round Cape Horn
voyages echo through maritime history.

Sailing silent on upon
a roaring time forgotten
rough weathered livelihood
soul-sucking feared maelstorm
romantic raging to hot doldrum
breeze wind wave ebb ocean
as forthcoming future ships
on maiden voyage will sail on
upon all event variant seas.

From calm through tempest gales
horizonless beautified seas
retain unique unfathomed mysteries
as spatial spectral ships journey on
into illimitable port passing history.
From wrecks to profit salvage
from sinking to lay-ups or cut-ups
voyages turn into new history
into spectrum maritime mystery.


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When God And I Sang Love Songs

In the beginning was the word and the word wanted me
words many words haunted my days haunted my nights
sleepless nights so tired so tired yet the word wanted me

wanting needing to sleep yet words drove me would not let me be
words lines of verse filling filling my mind time after absorbent time
poems born in the night night visions night words wanting born life

no choice no choice the word commands commanded servant soul writes
hot summer nights sped youth hair dusty blond skin beach burnt brown
wind kissed bronze naked skin sea carried surging soul safe in wave water

salt spray wave spray sea foam wave burst white foam birth born surging
sea surge ocean surge wind wide sea beach breaking over wild soul free
swimming beach sand river tides water pulse washing over through soul

riding out hard fast with death wave laughing life rhythms tide fast run
words nights of words stone dropping given in love to God life codes
biorhythms still life lost thirty minutes hours blink in deep meditations

diving into quest states mind soaring soaring
through vast layered sea deep meaning
poems freeborn so many poems written intermixing
together rhythm worship never ending
poems life love wave vibrant harmonic ad hoc fusing
soul carried I sang our life songs of life


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A Child’s Toy

a whirl of sunshine and cup of blue
within a single line of poetry
our world becomes a spinning top


First prime line written by Miroslava Odalovic.
Title, second and third lines written by Terence George Craddock
Copyright © Miroslava Odalovic and Terence George Craddock

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No Goldfish

Who will care
for my poems
when I die?

I have no goldfish
or pet cat
to give away.


My poems will cuddle up
serenely curl up with you
on a long winter’s evening.

My poems will swim and flash
tails of intricate golden detail
on a long cozy winter’s evening.


Who will care
for my poems
when I am gone?

Goldfish are a sacred species
cats are a sacred species
all life is a sacred species somewhere.


Poems are also
a sacred life force.
For it is the task appointed
to the divine poet to render;

foolish humanity worthy
when seeking redemption,
through hidden wisdom written
within sealed lines, in a starlit poem.


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Fly Elfin Echo Sound Creatures

are we not both elfin echo sound creatures
in still night together absorbing sounds
flying our own species separate mysteries
each delighting glorifying in night flights

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The War Game

I am buried by time,
I am buried by love;
Like life from Herat in Afghanistan.
I am buried by the heat,
I am buried by the cold,
I am buried by the wings of nature!
Like life from Herat in Afghanistan.

Keep talking it,
Keep saying it,
Keep doing it,
Keep walking it,
Keep dancing it,
Keep swinging it,
Keep climbing it,
Keep trying it,
Keep asking it,
Keep working it,
Keep moving it,
Keep flying it,
Keep acting it,
All in the time frame to be buried;
Like the War Game in Afghanistan.

Buried under the nature of things,
With bombs exploding from left and right;
Like a message from Herat in Afghanistan.
The War Game,
All in a time frame to be buried;
Keep rolling it,
Keep changing it,
Keep trading it,
Keep building it,
Keep covering it,
Keep painting it,
Keep writing it,
Keep blocking it,
Keep cookin it,
Keep posting it,
Keep accepting it,
Keep driving it,
Keep bombing it,
Keep squeezing it,
Like the war game in Afghanistan.

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Wild Roses

We the wild roses
grow on the rambling vine.
Confront the question this poses
seed the way of the disciplined mind.

A thorn this world to our senses
embedded savagely, our tortured flesh.
Lost in memory. Ancient cultivated terraces.
Sculptured beauty. Perfection now buried at rest.


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The Miracle Of Life In Conception

behold the miracle the wonder
captured 'a pure breath inspired'
walking radiant footsteps upon
surface of blue green clay ball
energies infused in life breath
'clayed whispered of the mind'
open to potential in life energy
open to beauty in noble hearts

inspiring warming heating cold
stone statue hearts into miracle
reborn life changes new energies
behind eyelashes opening wide
in clear vision sung in life song
singing harmonies in star crystal


Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Inspired by and quoted lines from the poem ‘Energies’ by Miroslava Odalovic.

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Spoke To The Heart

many will read
few will comment

written words provoked
no response
in heart of emptiness
no answering echo chimed


perhaps these probing words
were not written to you

perhaps your faith
was still fledgling
unable to leave nest
to venture forth

upon world adventures
courage to take wing
was lacking
it was not your time

words never spoke
to your heart
perhaps they were not
written to you


perhaps you never
opened minds eye
perhaps you never will
perhaps this is not

your life purpose
perhaps to lead is
not written upon
enlightened soul

is not an aspiration
also born are those
who must follow
who must serve


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