The poetry of David Stuart Ryan - Part Seven




Selected Poems
by David Stuart Ryan

Part Seven


Others are selected from the seven books that make up his proposed poetry series SEVEN WORLDS

It investigates the nature of each of the seven worlds of existence.

    The seven books which comprise SEVEN WORLDS are:

  • The Sphere of the Moon Goddess
  • The Conjunction of the Sun and Moon
  • Post Book from Around the World
  • New New World
  • Home
  • Another World
  • Seventh Heaven
There are also some poems from his latest collections in progress entitled Observations. and Galactic Federation Dispatches.

Links to the other parts of this collection of David Stuart Ryan's poetry.

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Eight
There are also some poems from his latest collections in progress entitled Observations and Galactic Federation Dispatches

To find out more about the writings of David Stuart Ryan see Kozmik Press.
Free chapter from India - a guide to the experience visiting the holy city of Benares (Varanasi)
First chapter of Taboo - a modern romance set in Holland and Germany
A chapter from Looking for Kathmandu - Peter and Birgit arrive in town and at the Blue Tibetan get invited to a rather strange party.
The first chapter of The Blue Angel - the life and films of Marlene Dietrich.
Poetry from The Cream of the Troubadour
- poems by David Stuart Ryan, Home Cronyn and the sayings of Ganesh Baba.
Colva Beach, Goa, India.
A graphic description of three months at Colva by David Stuart Ryan.


Index of the poems

To see any poem listed in the index simply click on the title of it.

Once you have read the poem, click on 'back to Index' to return here.

This is your electronic poetry book.

A walk in the woods Human origins explored.
Red for danger Pushing the limits.
Greenness Hints of spring.
Full moon
Spring spirit In the garden at Oxford University, in memory of Peter Levi
Puppy dog Mischief at the beach
Martha Lee Fielding
Goodbye Harry Harry moves out after a fight
The new decade
Flying to love Love in a cold climate.
Night haven A place to spend the night in Florida
South Beach, Saturday Miami on parade.
Times change
Faraway girl
Pooch has a hairy day
Love
Reflections of eternity
Leaning lingam
Journey into the unknown Childhood discovery
At the appointed hour The woods reseeding themselves
Somewhere out of the East. A V2 rocket attack on Kingston, near London, 1945
Heading into the sun Full moon call of love.
At night The end of all flesh at the burning ghats.
Take me back where I came from. Rolling back the years..
More light Restoring vision.
Sitting listening to the rain in a parked car at night
Beginning again Omens of a birth.
First day out A baby comes home.
Birthday morning
The deluge Global warming begins?



A walk in the woods

It is all quiet in the woods besides the swishing rain
Falling lightly on the leaves and creating a gentle hum.
None of the human kind around, only trees and birds,
The all arching sky shot through with every colour
And a lake where a lone heron sits patiently stalking its prey.

Feeling the surge of power of each step advancing along the path,
The form of this creature inspecting its world has been shaped
Over not just thousands, but millions, of years to this present point.
Where there are so many creatures it is difficult to be alone
And realise who it is without the distraction of others of its kind.

The foot swings forward, plants itself on the softly giving ground
Propels itself ahead thanks to toes that once grasped trees.
It took a brave decision to come down out the forest canopy
And stride in full light of day along the twisting trails to adventure,
But fleet of foot and sound of limb the creatures knew how to survive
Even the sudden attack that came out of nowhere. Ever alert they are.

Here on return to the gentle woods, the refreshing rain, the hum
Of the leaves in the splattering raindrops, it is just as it was,
Nothing too much has changed, cities may exist on the perimeter
Thronged by the tribes of creatures who have emerged and flourished,
But they have forgotten from whence they came
Cannot read each other's faces, rely on fragile words
Full of ambiguities and misdirections, lies and evasions.

The slope of the shoulders, the swing of the leg, the curve of the neck
Reveal all, eyebrows shoot up and down in constant communication
But it is all lost on the creatures who have become hypnotised by their creations,
Who believe they are substitutes for the living breathing earth.
The creature continues to stride the woods, at peace and harmony
Exulting in its perfectly functioning pulsing body
Moving along, moving along, of no fixed abode upon the earth.

At the zoo, some of the creature's cousins have been captured,
Put on display for the amusement of the gathered tribe of onlookers.
They watch silently but in fascination as a monkey plays with its penis
A mother with her young daughter is at the front of the crowd
The monkey suddenly ejects his semen seeds, instinctively she jumps,
Turns away with a shriek, clutching her daughter to her side and out of range.

In her actions she acknowledges and knows from where she came
Of how she is related to her imprisoned cousin, bored out of his skull.
The ways of freedom are broad and long, cages and cramped conditions
Have no part of the creature's condition, the joy of movement, the lure of the unknown
Are what are savoured and loved, there is so much more to explore.
The fathomless infinity of space beckons hauntingly to the earth creatures.

From Galactic Federation Dispatches

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Red for Danger

It would be best to wait for morning
If I were the patient kind
Best to let the tiredness be replenished
By sleep and soft dreams from inside,
But before the new day comes round on earth
Let me talk sweatedly
Of the driving need to capture your flood
Driving against the dam,
And your need to put everything on some plane
Open to sweet reason.

You have your desires, and I, I have mine.
Inbetween I hear crying
At all the regrets we have invested in.
Like phantoms, they enslave
Chained, battling against their dictates
Pouring with too much heat.
Where's the moon tonight? Growing? Almost full?
Water charged with much electricity
We knew there had to be an explosion
But like this? Throughout the room?

Even the poetry has no audience,
Everyone has flown and we are left all alone.
There is your need to leave, hide, regret.
Mine is to let out, make conquest, try express
At the last juncture, the last crossroads
The lights were set on red
And we went speeding by filled with old angst
Who now has the last laugh.

From Another world Back to index


Greenness

If I had to wish you one colour
It would be a green,
Wet green like the hill above the river
Fringed by keepsakes.
All these past achievements had a start
In the flooding of the year
When talk is easier of that casting out
We sometimes will try,
Searching for a new land to anchor
All those hopes

it would be as green as the thrusting bulbs
Going for broke in the sun
Resisting the ravages of cold Leaving aside the decay
Of those other years.
It is good having battered against soft flesh
Knocked on a door
To be welcomed in at the last gasp
And shown a fresh bed of earth
Where the sun can begin its millennial work.

From Another World

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Spring spirit

Bluebells, snowdrops, forget me nots
A great fat chesire cat
Sits still in the flower bed, all shed
Of winter gloom, flowers bloom.
The old Scot says I worship the cat
Billowing white clouds, God for him is that.

Poetry conference at Oxford University
where I first met the poet Peter Levi who died Feb 1 2000.
A delightful man and poet.

From The Sphere of the Moon Goddess

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Puppy dog

Puppy dog, puppy dog
Where have you been?
Over the chai shop
to eat some beans
bow wow wow wow!

Colva Beach
From The Sphere of the Moon Goddess

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Matha Lee Fielding

You turn on the sun Martha
Live happy ever after
Fields leaves love laughter
Earth mother Martha
Sun man father

Colva Beach
From The Sphere of the Moon Goddess
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Goodbye Harry

Harry has left the house he found a hell.
Goodbye Harry.
You have become mad for the truth, it is intoxicating you.
There you stand with all your weaknesses
At the same time as all your power.
Power in such quantity
To equal and surpass
Well you said it
Acid and the atom bomb
Tick tick ticking away
'Nixon.
In our country nix means nothing.'

Dear Harry you will become a fine person
Everyone knows that about you
Every one of the people
You fought with, cried to, harrangued, hurled things at
Knows this about you.
You have left
The hatred you revealed in us
Will linger a little longer
Then we will forget the sights we saw
Of violence, anger and fear, sudden darts
With words, looks, fist, feet
These you felt real pain from.

You showed us up Harry
But we wish you well in a funny sort of way.
Inside quietly you burn
Half of what you see is true
Our defences, we are as weak as you.

Your kisses on my cheeks meant more
Than your butt in my face
My fist in your face.
That grip of mine on your shoulders meant more
That little exchange in a shake
That was real
The blows nothing, a deny all.
Your kisses won Harry
For rage is impotent
Love is power.
Fare you well.

Colva Beach
From The Sphere of the Moon Goddess
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Full moon

Power of the dark
Reveals you stark.

Colva Beach
From The Sphere of the Moon Goddess
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The new decade

A heavy frost in the midnight revels...
Happy go lucky, hand shaking, back slapping
Funny hat wearing, horn blowing, bugle playing
Streamer streaming, balloon blowing, man singing
Girl tugging, laughing, shouting, honking
Joking, lorry riding, car hanging
Jay walking, beer swigging, ranting, raving
Smiling, laughing, love saying, love knowing
Love making, dancing, prancing, praising
Rejoicing, cavorting, sitting, watching, knowing
Exchanging, loving, wishing, happy new year
happy new year!

London

From The Conjunction of the Sun and Moon
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Flying to love

Artist woman crown prinsessa, I'm coming to get ya
When I take off in my silver plane that jet'll blow your brain.
The snowdrops have come to bloom, I'll smash you out of darkest gloom
Into the world you'll fly, you and me, you with me, two butterflies
Off around the world we'll go, singing tingling our thighs aglow.

Woman with two legs of fire I've come to fill you with desire
Artist lover danegeld prize my love explodes between your eyes
Up into the air I go, when I land I'll let you know
The truth about love in bed, we'll ride a husky sled
Through the snows, down the forests, to where the passion water flows.

This is the way to run the world, follow love when love is hurled
From London to Copenhagen, woman I feel forsaken
Got to catch that plane, I'm so hot I'll leave you insane
Leave you insane
Leave you insane.
Are you ready for the feast? Me, I'm like a caged beast
I'll trample you down if you don't give love to be my crown.

Ulla Ulla Ulla, can you hear me? I'm coming, do you fear me?
Reverberating through the cloud I'm so strong, so proud
You're such a hunk of meat I'll blast you sky high sweet
You've waited for it, you're gonna get it, right now, beg for it
The tool's coming, the fool's coming, we'll fly fly a thousand thousand miles.

I'm flying to love, gonna shove my love
Inside your womb, then you'll swoon.

Copenhagen, Denmark
From The Conjunction of the Sun and Moon.
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Night haven

A waterway still and calm at night
Crickets calling from the far side of its course,
The new crescent moon brilliant like the stars
Reflected by the untroubled waters in lush quiet.

At the pause of the humming roar of car wheels
Comes the peace of having found safe haven and rest
Across the Everglades patrolled by gliding birds of prey
The car headed West towards the bounty of the Gulf.

North Port, SW Florida
From Galactic Federation Dispatches

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South Beach Saturday

Saturday night, South Beach, Miami,
The lights pick out resplendent shapes
Buildings made of cubes and symmetries
Of squares, Art Deco, lit bright, American style

Girls to match the beauty of the real estate
Shimmering skirts halfway up their thighs
Breasts almost hanging out their dresses
Moving along with a rapidly peaking desire.

Young girls gather in a gaggle of chatter
Bump and push into bodies, heat rising
Dance music calls from the clubs, they move
In time, head towards the open door.

Latin dancer flicks her dark tresses
Beams, charges the crowd, raises her head
With all the arrogance of youth's fierce beauty
Stands still and defiant before the round of applause.

Through the overwhelming bustling crowds
Comes a man with a stout walking stick
Accompanied by a woman friend, sister in need
A loose cassock covers his painfully thin body

His stick pounds the ground involuntarily as he shuffles
His feet fire off into a spasm of shaking, a St Vitus's dance
With AIDS leaving him not long for this earth he gazes
Painfully quizzically at the life he is about to depart.

As the lights go out he sees all the colours
The shapes, the curves, the straight lines.
Art Deco gone mad


South Beach, Miami


Times change

At five or six I'd get a happenny
From my mum for ice cold lollies
Ride the new double-decker bus with it
And walk home.

At twenty five or twenty six I get a half rupee
From an Englishman for the bus fare home
Drink a frothy ice cold lassi with it
And walk home.


Panjim to Colva Road, Goa
From The Sphere of the Moon Goddess
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Faraway girl

By the sea is a girl
She looks hard for feeling
The sun is now setting
A glimpse is now showing
Harlequin figures beckon
Uncomfortable she grows old
I tread back along the path
Meet her, and circle.

Colva Beach, Goa
From The Sphere of the Moon Goddess
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Pooch has a hairy day

Pooch, young, white haired, lively
Strolls up curiously to the intersection
Looks bemused at the endless cavalcade
Of cars screaming past in procession.
He'll have to take his chances here
He decides, edging gingerly out into the traffic
Negotiating the first two lanes of cars
At a run, weaving in and out of the tyres,
Third lane, a monster is rushing down
On him, last second, car squeals, smoke,
Generated by fiercely applied brakes,
Surrounds Pooch madly dodging the advancing
Wheels. Phew, he makes it a by a hair's breadth
Plunges into the other side of the traffic,
Three more lanes to run through. Somehow
He makes it, dodging the remorseless wheels
Pooch heads up the road running at full belt.
Man, that was some heavy crossing, he reflects.
Pooch lives to fight another day, we pray.

Hollywood, Florida
From Galactic Federation Dispatches

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Appointed hour

At the appropriate time on the appointed day
The puff balls of pollen float serenely in the sunshine
Drifting effortlessly on the lightest of light breezes
Towards a destination where they may reseed the earth.

No one visits deep here in the forest except the birds
Familiar over many millions of years with the its preferred ways.
A rope hangs from a tree that has remained untouched for some fifty years
The trees grow, old tracks disappear, ponds reappear in familiar dips in the ground.

The old photo in the book portrayed the riverside some five decades ago
Just after the war, I was there then watching the river flow in its languid ordered way
I am here now watching the forest going about its joyful recreation
Just as it did before man entered its domain. We are but recent visitors.


Ham Common, Richmond
From Galactic Federation Dispatches
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Reflections of eternity

The truth is eternal as sunshine through leaves
Seen quickly distantly, glimpses, your mind deceives,
The heart gently floats on a river then sees.

Glancing throughout the world at all the dead views
You hope to find what the prophets gave, the good news
And how can you search for what has no clues?

In the still flowing water hemmed by grass and tree
A fish sprightly wriggles, stops, turns with sudden glee
In its face the sun shines suns two times three

Above the clouds are below on waters green
Spaced on the surface, still, letting shape be seen
Beyond they are eternal, on a a mirror you glean

Information of defamation, your mind's sad delusion
The universe is gathered on one side, it's just a collusion
Of accidents without colour, without sound, without reason.

Above and below are the same, there's nothing to gain
From searching the swirling shapes dimly merged in rain
Shunting each other, colliding, gone down a drain.

At the end of your hard life you'll look back and know
That all you have sought in vain was a passing show,
The trees cluster in presences of dream worlds aglow.

The birds fly suddenly into mirages of pain
Aloft in sky they view earth affairs with disdain
What comes to you finally is so simple, what is in the main

Flow of life, which revolves, flowing towards the source
Amid banks of growth, of hard and soft, of gentle and coarse.
It is all the same. The messages you received in eternal morse.


Oxford, the Isis river.
From The conjunction of the Sun and Moon
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Leaning lingam

Before your eyes a bulge
Stare into the shape of life
Worship the power and force
Ask the secret to be divulged.

The Egypt phallus leaps to the sky
The cat woman sphinx watches,
In her eyes blaze splotches
Of the desires burning on the pyre.

Die to live, live to die, twice
Round the circle goes
You are entering the holy gyre
Only all surrender will suffice.

The instrument sears through your flesh
Your body jolts into awake state
You have been wielded to a mate
Life has been born in you full fresh.

From The conjunction of the Sun and Moon
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Journey into the unknown

They had known for a long time that the city lay somewhere north of the park. But precisely how it was reached, exactly what was its extent, were questions to which they could give no satisfactory answer. However, the river seemed to be integral in these considerations as far as the gang of four boys were concerned.

During one of those long hot summer afternoons when they were tramping miles of dusty tracks, occasionally halting at dried-up gullies and isolated ponds, they formed the idea of setting out very early one day and following the brook on the far side of the park to its destination.

The brook represented the extreme edge of familiar territory to them but they did not regard it as as unsafe journey. It was reached in the sun across miles of green ferns and easily climbed oaks. Some had their innards eaten out forming secret camps from which to foray out. They had even more secret camps in the park and the common, reached only by great exertion through dense undergrowth. They had once surprised a courting couple heavily covered by bushes in this inner sanctum, it had been a wordless confrontation where they stared up startled one upon the other, unmoving. The revelation of deep secrets is best conducted in silence, so that the shock, as registered on the couple's faces, can be more fully noted. It is the feeling of trepidation mixed with irresistible curiosity, which might describe man's tenancy of the earth.

The boys were not strangers to the mysteries of the park. Come windy October, the noise of the rutting deer could be easily heard on the estate beside the ancient park walls. The amorous deer made enough noise to keep their parents awake in dimly perceived knowledge of the hungry driving force which preceded creation. the errant wildness of the deer spoke of earlier times, including when the kings hunted their quarry with yapping dogs in hard pursuit.

Indeed, they had stood and watched fascinated as their own half-foxhound, half-something-else dog pursued at least fifty deer acorss the flat, sparsely treed plateau which spread out across the middle of the park. It gave a feeling of power to see so many animals in fearful flight from an animal they owned and had in some way unleashed against the deer. In the countryside the old ways are more easily retraced by each succeeding generation.

The day set aside for the exploration was hot, as are most of the days of eight and nine year olds, summer is long enough to accommodate a great variety of desires, there is no threatening knowledge of the passage of time and winter can be banished from the mind.

The brook was running slowly not fast, but contentedly. It had been reached after a long journey across thickly grown slopes which they first ascended and then descended into the valley through which the brook flowed, surrounded by meadows. At least ten feet wide, it was nevertheless shallow, and largely hidden from view until they stood on its banks and looked down. Sheep were lazily munching at the rich grass which surrounded it. Tracks along the brook's banks wandered erratically along like rabbits' paths, which they were. For the boys soon came across a previously unknown sight. A dead rabbit lay upon the path in front of them in disarray, its stomach appeared to have exploded and its eyes seemed to have literally popped out of its head, yet there were no signs of blows to explain this phenomenon of unfathomable savagery. It presaged something of the city world that lay beyond, for even at its great distance the city in some way controlled the fate of the countryside, of that they were sure.

In what appeared not a long time, not a short time, they were out of the park, and running along streets to trace the brook's progress towards the river. They knew that a river had to be its destination, or was it the sea?

The brook re-emerged as pleasant sounding trickling of water at the bottom of suburban gardens. However, the buildings were closer together, the gardens more cramped, with every step they took away from the park and the known world. The four boys, in their short trousers, hanging out T-shirts and dust covered plimsolls, unconsciously grouped closer together. Yet an excitement mounted which drove them on to rediscover the streaming brook everytime it disappeared beneath a road or their progress was stopped by an impenetrable tangle of thorns and nettles. However far it was necessary to travel they would pursue the brook to its end, the hunt was on, becoming lost was a small price to pay. At the same time they calculated exactly how far it was that they had come.

The gardens were smaller now, full of summer flowers, gladioli, sunflowers, all seeming to wave in overloaded life. Their passage along the bank was often reduced to a toe-holding, finger-gripping challenge.

The brook turned a bend, at some distance shone the faster-flowing grey water of a river. Silently they scrambled over a last hill and below spread out the wide - extremely wide - reaches of the river. It was the biggest expanse they had ever seen.

On the far side lay the myriad buildings and towers and unknowable objects of the city, peopled by its millions. it held a fascination which seemed not altogether healthy. A loud crashing noise, the sound of steel on steel and its protesting rasp, deafened them. A train rushed across the divide spanned by the blue grey metallic bridge, intent on reaching its destination.

Richmond Park and Beverley Brook
From Seventh Heaven
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Love

No stars to be seen in the sky tonight
What matters this? Your glow is on the night.
Between layers of cold and dirt has shone
The brightest arrow of a love man has won
From an endearing smile given free from stairs,
A flight ushering from heaven above where pairs
Of lovers are briefly matched and then despatched

Into the ways of the world, to seek to be attached
To the most noble specimen within its plays
Unending, mirth extolling glory, nights their days.

To come into your rosebud lips, to taste your scent
Of true feeling, to sudden fall from stone stand! Rent
Aside the gateway of my heart so we can start
To live as one. As the worlds beyond, hidden part
By the vapours of the Earth, steam round your light
Is everywhere, it is in the eye of bird burning bright
In a picture of Japan, in the polished surface of the river
Reflecting back from its swell depths messages that shiver
With breathless wonder, the seas of images all polished
By your breath. Into your arms I was received, admonished
For the hardness of a shell, you melted me full quick,
In the twinkling of an eye the barriers went rip.
And did this love grow slow and sure, a permance?
No, in the first moment of seeing I knew your firmaments.

From The conjunction of the Sun and Moon
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Somewhere out of the East

Pandemonium has broken out. Somewhere out of the East
A rocket came at 4,000 miles an hour to obliterate homes,
Kill and maim people. With a thunderclap roar and punch in the guts shock
The rocket sent death spiralling through the rooms and houses.

Down the road the great reverberation of the explosion passed
Knocking the mother and her babe in arms to the ground
Kicking and fighting for life the baby screamed, the mother
Hung on shielding his body as sirens shrilled amid cries and shouts.

'The Americans were here almost immediately,'
Recalls the woman now white-haired whose roof was blown off.
Over 100 injured, eight dead, 2,000 homes damaged, the payload
Of the vengeance weapons on London was not insubstantial.

The rocket itself would in larger form propel man to the moon
But on the bleak January day of the 22nd, 1945, only the fury
And the debris of destruction were known, not the future triumphs.
The pall of smoke, grime and grey despair hung long in the air.

In another time and another place a drummer in a city of former
Nazi occupation beats time on his drums, a young Dutch girl
Moves in perfect response, obediently following where the music leads,
Getting back to an accord with nature and season takes time, only time.

Kingston-upon-Thames, Surrey was hit by a V2 rocket at 2.35pm Jan 22, 1945.

From Galactic Federation Dispatches
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Heading into the sun

What is intended for two birds heading into the sun?
Will they ever again come now they have seen the light of heaven's rung?

The full moon pulls and calls, we are separated by only time
Clouds of fleecy white bedeck the heart, still it pines.

Life shows you the most magnificent of the sights on this earth
Grace of a woman, leap of a dog, smile of a child, they lose their worth.

Your heart is bound up and caught up with what you cannot speak
Glance at the past, is something there lurking like a sneak thief?

Your one true love is so many days journey from you, continents away
Yet in the everyday is shining bright wonder, there saying what words can't say.

Agra, India
From Post Book from around the World

At night

Sitting quietly in night watching the body burn
From the peace and composure of five undertakers learn
The end of flesh. One leg remains to sizzle, fry
And then is gone creation which saw blue sky.


Kathmandu, Nepal
From Post Book from around the World
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Take me back where I came from

You can't get back further than this. From the royal palace the King and Queen Are waving, it is victory in Europe day A quarter of a million throng the Mall The war is over. But it takes time to recover and heal the wounds Only by 1964 could you say recovery was complete New buildings replace the old but it takes longer For the spirit to revive and dream fresh visions Of what could be. Deluging rain washing clear away all the murk Refreshing the long neglected finer feelings That were buried out of sight as being too painful And raw. What if it were possible to be who you Really would like to be? Looking ahead often requires a backward glance To detect the line you are travelling along It leads to a room in a house where tired of waiting You plunge into life and taste what she has to offer. About time too, she says.


From Galactic Federation Dispatches
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More light

At the end of summer before the rains returned It was decided the tall tree blocking the light Would have to come down, The garden had become like a forest clearing Over the years it had been allowed to grow tall And luxuriantly leaved. There is a comfort in feeling hidden away From the world but only for a time, something aches For the deep rich blue of sky. The felling of the mighty 30 feet of tree took all day And then some, it had no intention to fall lightly from grace Its place in the garden taken away. By the work of his sweated brow, and much much sawing The man attacked the tree as though some mediaeval executioner Intent on tearing his victim limb from limb. Branches heaved and suddenly cracked along his incisions Wondrous light flooded into the shadows of the garden The rich smell of sap was in the air. Some several days later only the mighty trunk remained The core of the tree with its serried rings of each year's growth Made a fine ornament and memento. At dusk the wide open sky gradually turned a deeper and deeper blue The first white stars began to appear, winking across the spaces The restored link with the worlds beyond.


From Galactic Federation Dispatches
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Sitting listening in a parked car to the rain at night

As those sea winds blow over obscuring clouds
The car's windscreen is festooned by trickle dots.
Listening to the metallic ring, the damp air shrouds
The exterior view, takes you far back in time to rain night

To a girl who allows her bare back to be feeled tightly
Kisses passionately in heaven, is willing to meet, to keep
A lonely date between long trees, get wet unsightly
Not care, but pause, confide and clasp her young man to her.

While dark and wet around the soggy ground soaks up
The rain, no one else can spy or feel the heat as blest.
Far dark trees, pressing hungry bodies, wet she is, no make up.
They walk along but not for long, the bright lit town

The chattering two decker bus, her beautiful journey home.
The awakening body, solicitous and warm, provides the whole solace
In an unspoken concert - and the feeling passed lightly.


Melbourne, Australia
From New new world
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First day out

At the time of being born, night and bright lights
Clear steel, white sheets, clothes filled her sights.

At the time of several days, lying in soft cots
Looking faces, occasional food, voices booming, lots.

At the time of coming home, a thick racket
Sudden howls, you jump, a steady flood but sleep comes.

At the time of coming to the family home, some peace
In a bright world of light this is some release

At the time of your first day out, the cars all snarled,
At the sunset the earth turned yellow and gnarled.

Melbourne, Australia
From New new world
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Beginning again

When you come to ask about the signs, there were some.
Does strangeness, beauty or vast vistas interest the most?
PIcture a sudden dog-barking arrival. Eyes look, who's come?
It is the mightily rounded mother to her nest and hopes.
A black cat trailed us across roads and home,
Later great granny came, trod the path to the sea.

You were a blessing manifested the day before life began again.

Melbourne, Australia
From New new world
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Birthday Morning

A light mist of rain falls gently
The church bells peal out across the valley
As they have done for a thousand years.

A flock of sea gulls hover over the sodden ground
Foretelling of high winds to come
Leaves begin to fall in yellowed readiness.

There is peace and content on the land
It is always there beneath the surface
But more easily discerned on a birthday morning.

Wimbledon Park
From Galactic Federation Dispatches
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The deluge

So much water coming out of the sky It feels like the bottom of a sea where Grey shapes of trees wallow in the distance. Out there in the watery world beyond the window Trees heave and snap under the weight Of water and force of the wind gone wild. The tempest will blow itself out in hours Not like some previous times when Centuries and aeons passed in turmoil. The branches, leaves and twigs collect At the lake's side, choppy and loud With breaking waves bringing home the debris. The lake looks so refreshed and clear Filled to bursting with so much new water As pure as only sky born droplets can be.

From Galactic Federation Dispatches
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