The Artful Gallery

Poems

                                     Adam
 
AdamTangled in the coils of deep desire
He looks outside himself
For answers,
But his God is silent
And there is no satisfaction -
No convenient Eve to take the blame;
Just this iron grip that holds him,
Motionless,
Within the endless coils of desire.
 
                 
  
  
  
   
  
                Thomas
 
Thomas
Proud peacemaker,
You know the wild flowers as your sisters,
The great trees as your brothers;
You know the wind carries
The breath of your ancestors.
You know where you belong
In the great mystery.
 
Forgive us our daily arrogance,
Teach us your wisdom,
Show us the old path
Beneath the concrete,
That we might not self-destruct.
 
 
 
                                     Father and Son
 
Father and SonA father may be flawed,
A son resentful.
The struggle to survive
Might bring the two to blows.
A natural parting may occur
As life moves through the phases.
Yet on dark nights,
When all complexity is stripped away,
And words cannot be said,
Still there is love.
 

 
 
 
 
 
                    Inner Child
 

Inner childIt’s part of being human
To have an inner child:
At times I feel inadequate
And hunker down
When illness takes its toll,
When I’ve made a big mistake
Or when a stranger wants a piece of me.
I curl into a foetal ball
In amniotic warmth,
Protected, in my head,
By some imagined god.  
 
 
 
 
 
 
                              Parrot Fish
 
parrot fishIs it a parrot or is it a fish?
Look at it from any angle you wish.
Touch it or stroke it, it won’t make a sound
But the eye that is sightless will follow you round.
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
                Portland Belle
 
Portland BelleShe was always there,
Deep in the cold, dark ground,
Waiting for someone to dress her.
150 million years waiting,
Until the chink of chisel woke her.
And now, here she is:
Cool beauty, resting.
Touch her.
She loves warm hands.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                              Shell-like
 
Shell likeListen to the song of the stone.
It sings a million secrets:
A record of lives spent
Over ages;
The history of the earth
In small verses;
Dissolving slowly,
Feeding the future.
Listen to the song of the stone. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
                              The Crone
  
The CroneYou feel the weight of all the years.
This hard old life
Has asked so much of you.
Just now, you bow before great forces.
But, take heart, 
For soon the load will lift
And your amazing story will be told. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
                   Together Again
 
Together again
Apart we functioned (just) -
Bored cogs inside a bored machine.
Meeting once again, we coalesce;
The touch of you,
The touch of me,
We’re drawn into the warm
Pool of attraction.
A thrill expands,
It can’t remain confined inside a word.
So a giggle breaks the surface. 
This is where I find myself:
Drowning in your arms,
I am, again, alive.
  
  
    
                              Protest Song 
  
Protest Song - Portland stone 60cms x 24cms x 20 cms
He stands for what he feels is right,
Speaks up to help the suffering fight,
Shouts out, ‘the King is naked, see!’
When all are silent only he
Will sing the protest song out loud,
His glorious spirit won’t be bowed.
Without him we are doomed to crawl,
He is the conscience of us all. 
 

  
               
  
  
  
 

                Confession
  
ConfessionHe bends his knee in supplication.
 By this hopeful act
 Deferring to a higher power,
 Desiring absolution.
 But his conscience
 Has already tried the man
 And found him guilty.
 The sentence: life. 
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
                 
                Sea-maid
  
 
Sea-maidI’ve seen you from afar.
You rest on rocks,
Faceless yet beguiling.
Invitation comes unspoken,
Confident seductress
Sing me closer.  
 
I reach toward your sea-wet skin,
Enchanted by the spell of you,
Inhale the salty smell of you.
We ebb and flow,
The swell of two,
I drown without a care.
 
 
 
                                       Good Morning! 
 
Good Morning! - Cornish polyphant 67cm x 15cm x 15cmWhatever filled the night hours -
Dreams, lovers, worries -
That first stretch feels so good:
Arms in a primal arch,
Sinews insist
Muscles must move,
Lungs inflate, heart pumps;
Drawing in energy,
Renewing hope,
Reviving consciousness;
Life again is ready
To ride the diurnal cycle.
 
 
 
 
 
                              Repression
  
Repression - Indian red stone 32cms x 13cms x 16cmsCover up, denigrate,
Push down, dominate,
Hurt and humiliate,
Physically intimidate,
Browbeat, frustrate,
Abuse and asphyxiate,
Tyrannise, subjugate,
Silence, strangulate,
What is man afraid of?
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                              Mary

MaryYou are the mother – bearer of life;
Strong in mind and body;
Servant of the child
You must let go;
Whose pain you feel
As your own.
When all is lost,
When no-one cares,
You are there.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                               Family Tree

Family TreeIn the presence of old trees -
Nature’s perfect priests –
We still our thoughts and listen
For the small voice –
The voice the Buddha heard.
Embraced by strong branches,
Loved by leaves,
We pray for their wisdom.
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


The Artful Gallery.
 
United Kingdom. Telephone +44  (0) 7799 653093
 

Powered by Create