Poetry

Days of Memory

Freedom

The word freedom,
Is such a lovely word.
But what I have to say,
To you might sound absurd.

My first conception of freedom,
Is tranquillity and peace.
I think it is quite obvious,
We expect it least.

But death is the greater,
It's freedom ever drifts,
Throughout our population,
To me is God's greatest gift.

Dreams

Rek Curt

It was totally awesome,
I've never seen so many wheels.
One after the other they came,
Each hot on the other's heels.

Rek Curt reined in the beast,
Bringing it to a slow stop.
Air rushed out from somewhere,
And out the cab Rek did hop.

I followed him into the shop,
'Tis how I learned his name.
I asked all about his life,
He simply replied "trucking's my game."

He told of a wonderful country,
Seen through the trucks windscreens.
Black river sun up to sun down,
Bordered with incredible scenes.

We bade farewell to each other,
With a roar the beast did start.
As the big rig slowly moved off,
There was a strange yearn in my heart.

Paradise Contradiction

I'm a Garden Too

Some say that there was the big bang,
Others say that by God it was created.
A subject discussed over the millenniums,
Even today it is hotly debated.

Matter was formed out of chaos,
Brilliant heavenly bodies appeared;
Galaxies systems, stars, and planets,
All of their dimensions being tiered.

In my lifetime I never thought I’d see,
What I've seen in the past few weeks;
Man still trying to destroy himself and others,
Yet peace obtaining some ultimate peaks.

Nothing is nothing can't be true,
For souls must surely exist.
When the body vehicle is all but ash,
The soul is home so religions insist.

I'm a part of an intricate garden;
And by and by I wonder why,
Is it so hell bent on self-destruction,
So determined to kill and to die?

Some wonder about the end of the world,
Fear stepping into our hearts everyday.
When it happens it will happen,
And we'll be looked after in God' s own way.

Ramblings

Where's the Wall

Where's the wall I'm trying to find,
So I can drive these thoughts from my mind.
To receive it's pleasure I need the wall,
Then I can see what I'm searching for.

The body craves for it's addictive damage,
Yet the soul creates a new way to manage.
Although the wall is hard and cold to the touch,
The body still desires it's violence too much.

The head becomes numb from the bashing,
Images smashing their way through the crashing.
We continue to stagger through until, thud!
Recognition has the sweet taste of warm blood.

I found the wall I've been searching for,
Why wasn't it there when I looked before.
But the wall is too high as you can see,
That there's nothing of what used to be me.

Serenades to a Priceless Princess

Rhyme and Reason

On a warm summers night,
As we watched the sun set into the west,
These thoughts flood into my mind;
Like the sea by which we are caressed.

Rhyme and reason,
Reason and rhyme,
Time in season,
A season in time.

A love in blossom;
Such a beautiful sight.
A love more vibrant,
Than a candle lit night.

A love both pure and simple.
A love that can try,
The feelings with no answers,
That needn't be questioned why.

This feeling that transcends,
Not a lust but a love.
With my heart it ascends
Into the heavens above.

Special

Shelter in Each Other

Bitter cold winter winds blow hard,
Across the harsh unforgiving plains.
A coldness to pierce the warmest heart,
Tormenting those caught up in it’s path.

Unable to see the forest through the trees,
A decade would pass before the fog could lift.
Like overlapping snakes entwined without contact,
Criss and cross their own paths would twist.

The heat moves in and out of mirages,
On the lonely empty desert sands.
The sun burns deep into uncovered flesh,
Tearing at their faces in their hands.

No matter how unpleasant the weather,
Henry and Lyn have found their shelter;
With each other, for each other,
More so, they found shelter in each other.

The Garden

Foreword (The Garden)

Garden is a small shire, within the boundaries of the sinister Nothing. The people, both animated and mortal, keep their shire clean and beautiful. They also protect their shire from natural foes. Life is usually calm and tranquil in this serene shire, known as Garden.

Nothing's infamous tyrant, Natas, wants most, if not all, of Nothing under his total control. He usually leaves Garden alone. That is until he gets bored with his demonic means of entertainment.

The actual land mass, Nothing, is surrounded by a shallow void; namely "Nothing's Void". To the northern tip of Nothing, across it's Void, lies the Ancient Lands. It was there, were the Ancients would wander (and wonder) about. I say used to; as they were all wiped out by an unpleasant plague. The inhabitants of Nothing, were protected from this horrid plague by the sheer vastness of Nothing's Void.

In the following poems and letters, you will have the opportunity of getting to know most of the Inhabitants; most, not all. You will meet the Wanderer, who with the use of his TRIPPER (Time Rectifier in Parallel Places, Envelope Runner), visits the Ancients.

A fact, which you might find startling, is that Garden, Nothing, and their inhabitants actually exist. There is a piece of the Wanderer, in all of us. What's more, Nothing and Garden aren't that far away. Everything has it's good with it's bad.

Everywhere you look, there is a fragment of Nothing in what you see.