Poems

My poems have come from extraordinay passions. I suppose I am a passionate person. I cry, laugh, swear and feel pain and happiness all in the same breath. I find the life within me is hungry for experience in any form. So I have not avoided pain or the wonders of pleasure that have lifted me to the promised land. So here they all are – my poems – my life – my love in its may forms – and my visions of the highest.

Bob

Bob Grace was a farm worker who lived in a lean-to, or an old shed. He was an important part of my childhood. But this poem came about when I took my young son Mark to visit him....More

Bend in the Road

Here I have tried to put into words, quite inadequately, a childs love for his father. It still makes me cry now as I remember it. How can one deserve such love?...More

Babs

Babs was the mother of a good partner of mine. At her funeral service I had a strange and lovely experience that made sense of one of the great reasons we gather together to bury someone. What I saw was that we unconsciously all focussed on the supposedly dead person. And that was when I saw it was ...More

All New

In looking at old photographs I came across one in which my son Leon was in the background. He was crouching on a beach with his hands holding sand and grit. But it was his wrapt expression that made me ask him what he was doing. His answer was wonderful, and here it is....More

You Are It

If I could write a hymn of praise it would be this. This wonderful reailsation that you are IT!! That this ordinary, commonplace person that you are is in fact a miracle. And you are that miracle. You don’t need to be anybody extraordinary to be wonderful. ...More

Angel Soul

We often think we are so wise and clever. Yet looking carefully we see what a fool we were. Yet often in our foolishness and weakness there is wisdom and strength....More

Where Am I

Yes, I asked where am I? And I realised I was always at the moment between the created of my past and the uncreated of my future. And there before me were all the dreams, fears, love, angers and desires that were the material with which I created....More

What is a woman – What is a Man

It was the dead fish in a dream that led me to these feelings. I was reminded of all the sperm that comes away from a man during a lifetime. Then image after image of women flashed through my mind. Pictures of women in black brassieres and black corset straps. Women with fags in their mouth with unf...More

The Word

While a couple of friends were staying in my cottage with their young child he learned his first words. And when I heard him call me I felt I knew what language really was – a wonderful call from his whole being to me....More

The Vigil

This is the darkness of night, I stand in vigil and vigilant. It is my chosen task to be the one Who through this time of shadows Remains awake and dwells For this season amongst The corridors of memories and thoughts, Watching over those whose lives I celebrate and desire to be. And in me rises th...More

The Tree

I AM the tree of Life. I draw upon the past that is now the soil from which my roots feed. I reach up to receive the giving death of the sun as it pours out its energy and awareness. And I can blossom and form seeds....More

The Song

This was my first touch wth the experience of enlightnement, when all the sounds around me joined in one vibrant sound – the song of the ONE....More

The Hand

When my first son was still small and we had been digging up potatoes, I asked him if he had any. His reply was, “See my hand is open.” And out of that came this poem....More

The Jungle God

Many years ago, in the company of a young woman, we climbed a small mountain in Japan. We sat that night through talking about the mysteries of life, and the strange emptiness at the centre of it all. And then, on the way down, we came face to face with a Jungle God....More

The Interior Castle

If we dare to grow beyond our rigidly held beliefs or theories we will discover the interior castle. It has levels each guarded by walls dificult to pass beyond. But I am old. I am wounded. And I have trodden the high ground of the interior castle. I stand here with pride, in my wounds, in my streng...More

The Headache

I have had some whoppers of headaches in my time – mostly self caused by not noticing what effect the food I was eating had. But the headache of this poem was caused by growing so fast, and knocking a hole in my head on a star....More
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