Sunday 15 December 2013

End of year round up - a seasonal post.

It's that time again, soon this year will turn into something new and uncharted - 2014. Is it just me or did 2013 seem to pass quicker than any before it? I think personally it's because I've been too darn busy - hence the over long gap before returning to the world of blog. I'll make a commitment here and now to take more time out for personal writing projects in the new year. We all have to create a space, somehow, amid all of our busyness, and writing is my very necessary escape. All summer long I've been jotting down ideas, a line here, a thought there and now it's time to unravel them - to pick up the thread again that leads me back here, to myself.....

It Matters



It matters to me


This isn't wrong


It’s not a crime


The stunted bough


The twisted rhyme






Celestial Fall




I did wish upon a shooting star


In its celestial fall


Hoped my love would unlock you


My prayers provide the key




My heart did burn in solitude


As it arced across your sky


Although worn upon these sleeves of mine


You never batted eye




Lost moments sincerely spent


Now darkness has returned


Mute silence blankets everything


All trace of where we burned


It's been a good, if steady year on the performing front and I've enjoyed the opportunities that have come my way, courtesy in particular of Colchester Poetry.  I was fortunate enough to do three months worth of sequential performances at Open Mike nights for September, October and November, plus a couple of performances earlier in the year and an appearance at the Sunday Matinee in January. There was also the Festival at the Hythe, Colchester, in the summer, so not too bad I think. My sincere thanks to all concerned in organising these events and giving chances to folk to have their moment.

All the Things



All those words I’d written for you


One final touch, a misplaced stroke


And everything is lost


A page full of empty space remains


Lilly white, like a coward’s heart


Elusive tender moments


Brimming with all the things


I never said



So has the desire, the passion for writing diminished in these fallow months? Not at all! How can it when it is something I love doing and so value sharing? These pieces posted tonight are all new, the first harvest of summers thoughts. I hope you are enjoying them.


Galatea



I carry a personal Galatea


In my mind



Pure psychology


She oozes like beeswax




Love and erotica


Melting in my undecided flame





Raven and Dove



Spread eagled on a moment


The emboldened tongue


Exposes hidden form




Love uncoils


In strange new ways


Gifting pleasure storm




Fire meets ice


A heartbeat - missed


The raven and the dove




Falling helpless


In surrender


On the outer lips of love




Erased



Hollow heart, running loose


I’m just like a frightened deer


But if I were a preacher man


Bold - I’d entreaty God for you!




With a useless broken antler


Snapped at rutting time


On a hill, I’m straining upwards


Towards Artermis’ shrine




I never meant to hurt you


Though my aim was straight and true


The gods have made my choices


They dictate from depth of void



Colour turns to black and white


And I struggle to recall


Why on earth I wait here


Set for a bruising fall



I hope that you are happy


Beyond the touch of man


I’ll erase my thoughts, forget you


In every way I can





The Holy Grail



Of love and stone I speak


One dances like a moth drawn to a flame


The other broods, unyielding, brute




One is passionate, fleeting, delicate


Until the holy-grail is reached


And it fails, beating frail wings


The other enduring, faceless, mute




Removed from the fire dull and cooled


Merely exists in splendid isolation


One burns with all urgency


The other drains and chills



Which I ask myself were you?


As I roam desolation's hills


Kernel



Fluttering against the glass


Still he beats his wings


After long and fallow years


On the outside looking in





A lonely, frightened mocking bird


With gold dust on his tongue


Carrying the burden of


An imagined Midas touch





So much to say, so little time


He would sing for you


Bring precious stones, a holly wreath


Things borrowed, old and blue





It’s cold out on the margin


The farthest edge of time


In deepest dark the brightest stars


Gleam in solitude divine






Within this darkest hour


A kernel only night can bring


He awaits the cusp of sunrise


When he’ll catch your eye and sing


I'd like to thank everyone whom I have shared the writing journey with so far, everyone who has taken time out to read Ariadne's Thread. I wish you all a very happy and prosperous 2014!


Proximity



Sleep walking the halls of sadness


I wrote this for a heart like mine


Though none abounds


And time abhors my ethereal ways….





To what shall I compare her?


All my words are but the guttural


Aping the divine


My striving the profane to the profound


And to know her, how?





To roll back time and take her hand


In mine, would be a splendid thing


And together walk a path so intimate


Surely, to miss its proximity, a crime?





To experience every leaf and flower


Watch each heavy pollen laden bee


Upon a bloom’s explosion feed


All confirms creation's glory




I but mere and flawed can scarce conceive….


To know her, how?


Except through the Ariadne’s thread


Of words she's left behind


Leading me by the heart


Toward her light sublime




Mark Harris has asserted his right under
Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
To be identified as the author of this work.