The line of defiance

With my compass forever with me,

I draw a line in the sand,

a line you can't comprehend with weakness,

only with strength,

the line never sleeps nor ends,

but like the mottled glow of light on the sea, it only gently fades at night always returning with force at sunrise.

I want you to be happy as the line is drawn, 

and I do the best I can,

for more than a thousand years,

I love you,

I struggle and I suffer for you,

for more than a thousand years,

ceaselessly without break or crack,

the footprints have been made, 

the line is eternal.

Pebbles and stones smoothed and shaped with time, 

gradually pounded by geology and physics to grain, but never disappear.

I hold an age of history in the palm of my hand,

though I let it blow away in the wind it still exists.  

The heat of the sun burns,

but the oceans do not evaporate, 

condensation falls to the ground and replenishment continues.

I want you to feel cherished, 

and I do all I can,

for more than a million years,

Boundless I sail the winds and rays of the sun,

ceaselessly I pray and I like a child I become,

The steps to Heaven have begun.

The line of defiance is feared,

An unbreakable chain,

yet allowing in the light of the light, so that no darkness penetrates it. 

It's a wall transparent and humble, 

defying anything that is not good.

It guides my eyes, 

allows me to live

and within it my heart stays. 

We are the light

I'm aware of the light of my body and mind, fore I effect the universe, and all living kind, so I cast a shadow of light from within the darkness of the cave, and step forth with light into the light, the first fight for the first brave.

Stars, planets, swarms and plague's, sunset and sunrise, moon phase and stage, the ladder of degradation and elevation leads to one's salvation, people of all shapes, sizes and guises fight to gain light, so the fight continues towards the light.

Emotions, morals and my entire inner being effect my body and my surroundings' way of seeing, fore we and our environment are created, we live in harmony, the levels of harmony balanced with levels of light determine our levels of sight, blindness and insight, in turn consequential levels of morality correlate with perfection to self reflection and mental selection, and strategy.

They'd look a different way if someone took my surroundings from me today, if I was to leave them behind for someone blind, who has no light or fight or any inner strength in sight.

Good and bad can really be seen in the skin, the mixture of light and dark holds the truth within, my energy transmits through my body, solid and ready, through my solar plexus to change the energy that my environments share with my care, through particles in the air.

My aura has a life transmitting energy of its own, it's two tone, it radiates back and forth from my body to my environment. This is what is meant when we sense a vibe, Jackyl and Hyde, good and bad energy, dead or alive.

Let there be light shining on you and to others from you.

From the light we are created and to light we go. 

We ARE our environment and our environment is us, we are not merely part of the created universe past and gone, we are the universal eternal light that The Light shines on!

At least I'm alive

I'm switched on,

Like a bomb, 

Ready to detonate,

my internal sensations are heightened,

Intrigue and fascination of life is my focus,

I'm wired.

Everything is internalised,

Everything is outward in and letting the eruption begin,

Every colour,

Every texture,

Every feeling,

Every thought,

I'm ready to explode.

I walk and it's quiet,

I slide open the door,

I enter,

The garden is an overload to my eyes, 

I've been here thousands of times,

It's my secret,

My altar, 

My mystery,

It conjures words I must express,

It has limits, but limitless,

It has boundaries, but is boundless,

It is small, but is monumental.

I touch a Salvia leaf, 

And take in its aroma,

Sweet and herbal,

I see the golden rose,

It's multiple shades of sunrise mesmerise my sight,

The glossy leaves of the Aralia are smooth and shine in the late summer sun.

I take my sandals off and ground my feet onto the sandstone tiles, 

I tip toe and feel the ache in my calf muscles,

I take a deep breathe and broaden my chest, 

Exhaling I soon slow down and think of life and of death,

I look up and see the vast expanse and questions enter my mind, many questions, and I question these questions,

What does it matter? I think.

The greatness of life is too much to take. 

I step back inside, boil some water in a kettle and make a coffee with honey and milk, and sip it.

My father enters my mind,

At least I'm alive, I think,

believe me,

Then my mind steps back and re-engages,

So is he.

I look out the window, the blinds up, I see the sun.

The day of light

I sip my coffee with listless lips, my hands weak and shaky, I weep for those who suffer, I weep for those who've gone,

I feel grief and for all I've done wrong, 

but, then I pray,

There is a plane that's heading for those who wait,

Beyond the sky, beyond the gate,

And on the way, I watch and wait,

For the final day.

War rages in my mind, in my home, in the streets,

It devours everything it eats, the poor man opens his hands and cries, the rich man brushes aside and sighs,

But, there's a plane that's heading for those who wait,

Beyond the sky, beyond the gate,

And on the way, I watch and wait,

For the final day,

It's buried in the cemeteries 

It's hidden in the darkest morning,

It's everywhere babies gently  sleep,

For the final day 

Won't creep, it will explode into your life with thunder and lightning to quell the noise and fighting!

With power at hand,

Feet resting upon his foes, and without a change of mind,

But, only to be kind,

He said "LET THERE BE LIGHT" and there was light, and the light was in sight!

There's a plane that's heading for those who wait,

Beyond the stars, beyond the gate,

And on the way, I watch and wait,

For the final day is here,

The day of

Light will come, 

Then there will be 

Freedom!

Freedom!

Freedom!

In response to the Queen's Funeral

People ought not be judged by title or status, wealth or power, but the most respected legacy must be one which touches your soul with personal kindness and sacrifice, with tears and great happiness, and most of all with love. Love brings peace to your mind, warmth to your heart and ease to your body. Let not pomp and pageantry, misguide you into thinking one is great, fore out of the  womb we all were born and to the earth we end up. The greatest of all people is the least of all. I shed a tear for any good person who passes, but none should be elevated above another to make another feel lesser. Poverty, squalor, hunger, suffering and turmoil is what many experience, yet to be given a title and to do it, this is no great honour. Is not a homeless person just as valid, is not a refuse collector doing worthy work, is not a poor artist or destitute poet not accomplished, are they not worthy of praise, like all good people are? When my father died, I said a speech, nobody could hear, as the microphone was deliberately switched off. When I choked up and cried when I spoke, did anyone care? It was a small funeral, modest, did anyone apart from my mother and I really appreciate the significance of this day? You may honour and submit, you may lower your head in honour, but I do not lower mine, only in grief and condolences do I show my respect. I lower my head to my father who brought me up, and to my mother also, but not to someone I have never met nor know. My parents who fed me and changed my nappies, who supported me and encouraged me through the rigours and challenges of life. Where were the trumpets and horses when I recovered from my mental breakdown, and when my father lost his mind with dementia? When my mother ran for her life? When my sister was to die from lack of oxygen and my brother unable to walk was carried to intensive care to save his life? This is not jealousy or bitterness, but rather it's what ought to be thought and what ought to praised, and what ought to be respected. When my God, who I have faith in, was born, not in great power but in humility and died on the tree did anyone but his mother, the apostles and few others weep and mourn. Not thousands, not millions. All people on the earth are the same, only God is above us, only Heaven, where we want to be brings us glory, and to get there we must follow a childlike and humble path, lowly in mind and with spirit. 

Kermit the frog 🐸

He was a tadpole of mine,

Stolen from school and made sublime,

From one in a hundred he was made a unique friend,

I did a bad thing, but created a Godsend,

In my garden he would grow,

What he knew I didn't know,

I fed him meat hung on a string,

Such satisfaction and reward he did bring,

From an ice-cream box, I made a pond in the earth,

I added stones and rocks, he never made a sound,

I saw him jump around and then one day he did something profound,

On his back I saw him, in the water of his home, 

I was sad, but this frog was saved,

I recognised him as a friend and companion, maybe it's what this frog craved,

He was looked after day by day,

Though he didn't have much to do or say,

To me, I did a great thing,

To him life I did bring,

And he gave back joy and a smile,

To a child that's going the extra mile!

We'll meet again I'm sure anyhow,

I have no doubt,

Somewhere somehow! 

Ingrained

To fathom a single lick of paint on a Cathedral ceiling, a bolt holding up a skyscraper,  a blade of grass on a football pitch, tiny, but is the solid fabric of the whole with a soul.

Like me, I'm ingrained, part of society, part of the planet Earth, part of the Universe, part of the Creators creation,

Truth is in my bones and the cells of my body.

At home, in the streets, in the parks and parades, in the towns and cities, as I walk and talk, workout or rest, I always do my best,

I can do anything I set my mind to with help from the Man above and His love!

Hairs on a dog,

Feathers on a bird,

Moistness on a frog, 

The following of a herd,

I tingle at details, adrenaline rushes from that which makes you what you are...

Where am I from? They ask.

From the earth, made by the hands of God, from a spark in the womb of my mother.

Where are you from? I say back!

Peckham? Portsmouth? Hollywood? Or the Outer Hebrides? Hawaii?! 

A Nightingale's home isn't a cage, it wants to be free to sing it's beautiful song!

Assumption and ignorance go hand in hand, because you don't know me until you know me!

I've got Angels watching out for me, kicking away those demons! With my prayers I'm bullet proof, with my head low and my eyes focussed I'm aware! Every single thing happens for a reason, that's where controlling your thoughts and actions is a preventative remedy for the soul!

My thoughts, my character, my point of view, my truth is my truth! 

That's my proof! That's my identity! Don't box me in, don't shove me in a corner, my ego doesn't prevail, so neither will yours! Who's got your back?! My back is gotten by The Creator and Sustainer of The entire Universe!! 

Like the leaves on an Olive tree or drops of water in the Red Sea,

They make it what it is, 

Just like Grapes make the vine,

You know a tree by its fruit, and those fruit don't fall far from the tree,

Select and savour those good fruit, for they are sweet and kind, so taste and see, and you will know who you are and who is for you!