Posts tagged ‘song’

15/06/2013

Three Storytellers

 

He hears his name in robin’s songs,

The cadence calls him from the scrub.

He answers in his shaky voice:

They understand but don’t respond.

 

She sees the heron spell her name

In semaphore with arching wings.

She signals back, she jumps and flaps,

They catch her drift, but on they pass.

 

I see the clouds, I hear the trees,

I feel the rumbling through my feet.

The world is here, and I am here,

With robins, herons, clouds and breeze.

 

They speak to us, they know our names,

And nothing here will ever change.

 

 

20/05/2013

Where “L.A. Woman” Played

 

The black-walled flat – as damp as dark –

Where smoke and carpet merged and flowed,

And promise drained, and talent flayed

Its beauty with a knife of song.

 

And through the liquid of my eyes

I sensed the air begin its ebb,

It sucked another day to death:

A Hammond swirled, a poet curled.

 

The concrete stairwell, soaked in gold,

Was echoing a dusk or dawn,

As rain began corralling drains,

And woke that sleeper from its pains.

 

Out there a dog lay writhed in bones:

In dereliction, howled alone.

 

 

Remembering hearing LA Woman by The Doors in a squat in Blackburn, Lancashire, 1987.

19/05/2013

Alone Again Or

 

The dust and strings and motel lights:

An Iliad of horns which weep

Across the desert south, and sweeps

The meeting place of every scream.

 

They all converge and break their songs.

Cicada tremolos, which tease

The furtive loves lived out of bounds:

Illegal mouths to feed with dreams.

 

The voices dub and layer above

A canyon deep, where visions clashed

On streets with water cannon blasts.

Achilles – swift – has lost his fight

 

And hangs alone above the sands:

A broken man from distant lands.

 

 

Prompted by:

http://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com/2013/05/19/prompt-4-music/

 

inspired by:

Alone Again Or,  by Arthur Lee and Love

30/12/2012

The Sylph of Dales’ Song

 

Above the hills and northern dales,

Above the outcrops on the moors,

Above the mists and passing rains,

Above the senses and the dreams,

 

It saw the world for what it was.

It smoothed the waters, rocks and flames.

It watched the changing, watched the lulls.

It wrapped the world and lungs it filled.

 

It quivered with the wings of birds,

It gathered all their voices up,

It kept them for the sun to breathe,

It kept them for the stars to grieve.

 

Above the beauty of the skies,

Above the tales, above the lives.

 

 

15/12/2012

Song 10: All Things Must Pass

 

The fear and pain, the joy and love,

And everything we ever love,

Unfurls the universe of love:

We pass away, and we are love.

 

The scent of wood smoke from the fire;

Through frosted glass, a shooting star;

A flock of sparrows in the snow;

A note you wrote ten years ago.

 

I read the tales of Gilgamesh,

See broken hearts on river beds.

I walk the ancient woodland ways,

My worth is breath, my nights are days.

 

A life is made as seconds pass,

The birds all know their songs don’t last.

 

 

Here, now, where I listen to All Things Must Pass, by George Harrison

 

linked on to dVerse OLN75

15/12/2012

Song 9: You Are The Music

 

You are the music of my life:

Like freedom on a Highland loch,

Where grebes can dance their wildest dreams,

And mountains hang like summer clouds.

 

You are the music of my pasts:

Where molecules of memories merge,

And sadnesses and joys are joined,

And riotous the stories’ births.

 

You are the music of my world:

The self-absorbed and self-proclaimed,

The moments which meant all to me:

And all of which just had to be.

 

The strings of place, the pulse of time,

This world of music, world of mine.

 

 

 

Loch Ruthven, Highland, where we heard You Are The Music by King Creosote.

15/12/2012

Song 8: Morning Hollow

 

Across the valley, through the trees,

The ruined graves and abbey walls.

A robin rolled its autumn song,

All else was silent, still and calm.

 

Our fractured memories slipped off down,

The pilgrim pathways of the past.

The hills and woodlands soaked our loss.

With every step we gave you up.

 

The morning hollow, evening void,

Your spirit dance and voice now hushed.

To earth or sky or water lost:

The nothing where the sadness was.

 

We stared across the changeless view:

The moors and rivers now held you.

 

 

Bolton Abbey, Yorkshire, where we thought of Morning Hollow by Sparklehorse.

13/12/2012

Song 7: Do You Realize???

 

A universe of bursting mass,

And circling, cycling lives and deaths:

Repeating forms, forever on,

All came to stop that rainy day.

 

Confetti scattered, Solent salt,

Balloons and cakes and Tennyson:

I’ve never been as scared or proud.

Your strength and beauty linked in gold.

 

The planet span about our day:

Our photos placed that point in time.

The sun would never set again.

Our memory had merged as dreams.

 

And arm in arm we took those steps,

Then floated through the ocean breeze.

 

The Isle of Wight where we heard Do You Realize??? by The Flaming Lips.

12/12/2012

Song 6: Waterloo Sunset

 

 

Their life began in simple steps,

As all the greatest stories do.

A train, a bridge, a longing glance,

And talking hours in Waterloo.

 

The huddled, shuffling city streams

Rolled by with hushed transparent forms,

Their fingers touched and time stood still.

The river passed beneath and through.

 

And off into the night and lights,

From which a million lovers fled.

They found a café – dragged it out –

She missed her train and then again.

 

Each parting brought them closer to,

The start of life at Waterloo.

 

Waterloo Station, London, where I heard Waterloo Sunset by The Kinks.

12/12/2012

Song 5: Always Something There To Remind Me

 

She dug a marble from the ground,

And laid it back to mark the grave.

Some lives were never meant to be:

The kitten barely breathed at all.

 

The ice of Leith, the summer breeze,

The spring and autumn Pentland rains,

The poems spoken through the snow,

The poems of the cobbled roads.

 

We lived in books and Richter prints,

We breathed the northern lights of earth,

Yet on the edge of perfect voice

The silence and the shadows fell.

 

I walked along the city streets,

Alone, alive in memory’s words.

 

Edinburgh, where I listened to Always Something There To Remind Me, recorded by Sandie Shaw.

 

12/12/2012

Song 4: One

 

The night of summer winds and storm

And hoping that the rain would fill

The helpless silence of my fears:

I found a tree and offered prayers.

 

The wind had picked a broken fence,

Cartwheeled it passed my open door.

It smashed into a neighbour’s car:

I locked my door and walked on by.

 

Pathetic miles on mile I traipsed

In blistered cold towards the Downs.

Before the hills I found a wood,

With branches falling, streams in flood.

 

I picked the tree, I left my words,

Then fell in tears of true despair.

 

Lewes Road, Brighton where I listened to One by U2

11/12/2012

Song 3: In My Life

 

We held ourselves together then,

As close as sea and shingle shore.

And all who saw the breaking waves

Would know the depths that friendship found.

 

The mystery was, it meant so much,

But drifted like the ocean spray,

Like flint embedded  in the chalk:

We learnt, precarious and lost.

 

And time has shown the scheme of things,

The streets we took which had no plan:

Divergent lines on hazy maps,

And always there seemed no way back.

 

But now I see those lines were waves,

Which love and friendship held through time.

 

 

Brighton, where I listened to In My Life by The Beatles

11/12/2012

Song 2: Road to Nowhere

 

I drank another strawberry wine,

And danced for hours with flailing arms.

The streets were made for running wild,

And lost or free, it all made sense.

 

The flames from which the house was built

Had licked and teased my teenage mind,

And burned me through with blistered towns:

The wreck I left, the wreck I was.

 

And in another club or pub

I drank another strawberry wine,

And fell in love, and fell apart,

And planned another shining start.

 

I didn’t know the words for life:

I took a guess and sang too loud.

 

Blackburn, Lancashire where I heard Road to Nowhere by Talking Heads

11/12/2012

Song 1: Souvenir

 

The forests where the adder slept,

And where my loneliness found peace,

Were rich with beechwood Sunday rains,

And softened by the Autumn songs.

 

The drip of drums through scented larch.

A fractured truth which filled my heart.

Escape and acorns broke the hold

Of screaming homes and severed schools.

 

I ate the beauty of the earth:

Russula, Parasol and Cep,

I gleaned the music picking hope

In melodies which set me free.

 

For always are the two entwined:

A Souvenir, a stand of pines.

 

The forests of South Wales where I heard Souvenir by OMD.

.

24/07/2012

The Song of Ondine (Completed)

Poems of the water elemental

The Song of Ondine (Poems for Oxfam)

Tags: , , ,
24/07/2012

The Song of Ondine (Water’s Song)

 

The song of blood, the song of snow.

In cliffs are waves on ocean shores.

The rain on moorland flows as streams

A thousand generations hence.

 

The song of forests, song of caves.

A home you made, a love you built.

The questions you forgot to ask.

The truth of birds which sing at dawn.

 

The song of stories, song of hearts.

The boat which drifts, the sadness born.

A simple meal in alpine fields.

The door which you have left unlocked.

 

The song she sang when she was free:

The song of rivers, lakes and seas.

24/07/2012

The Song of Ondine (The Cost)

 

She wasn’t singing for the Earth,

She wasn’t singing for the Air,

She wasn’t singing for our lives,

So no, we didn’t hear the song.

 

But villages were swept away,

And islands sank beneath the waves,

And deltas spread and countries shrank,

And still we didn’t hear the song.

 

And drinking water filled with salt,

And wars were fought for muddy wells,

And millions were left to rot,

And still we didn’t hear the song.

 

Our links have broken, language lost,

Without the song we count the cost.

23/07/2012

The Song of Ondine (Limestone Dales)

 

In waterfalls she tuned her voice,

In shallows rippled hymns of time.

She reeled through centuries of song,

Her verses passed like drops of rain.

 

Around the foss her singing hung:

In spray and ramsons, sun and moss.

Her music saturated rock,

And flowed in watercress and fern.

 

Her songs were drawn from morning mists,

And dreaming states which swirl at dawn,

From deep in limestone birthing streams,

From ancient rains, forgotten tones.

 

In fluid walls and melting stones,

In liquid landscapes she still flows.

21/07/2012

The Song of Ondine (City in the Rain)

 

The pavements rippled in the rain,

And lonely figures rushed on by,

All hunched and desperate to escape.

She sat and watched and wondered why.

 

Their eyes were focussed on themselves.

They drowned her music with their thoughts.

They lived as if they were alone:

Detached and silent in this world.

 

The grey of asphalt, sounds of spray,

The glowing shop fronts, merging streams.

There could be beauty in a town,

There could be wonder in the crowd.

 

As one with others, one with rain,

She softly sang her song for all.

21/07/2012

The Song of Ondine (Migration)

 

She flew alongside Sahel birds,

Migrating from their summer sedge.

She saw her ocean waves at work,

As autumn surges shaped the coast.

 

She saw the spread of lights at night,

And scars where scrubland disappeared.

The Sahel cuckoos held their calls.

They saw the marshlands drained and dried.

 

And further south the deserts spread

With sandstorms burning ever on.

She whirled in dust as dry as death.

Some birds pressed on while others fell.

 

The deserts scarified their tongues,

They looked to her to flow with song.