With positive thinking you can defeat death
Be happy, be brave , you can do it, you can!
I don’t want to look at your skeleton frame
Shrunk and ravaged by cancer and ready to cark
So don’t shout, don’t be angry, don’t scream at your partner
Retreat to your centre and accept your fate for
we all must die.
No positive thinking can save you from death.
So scream and be angry and rage at the light
that’s dimming before them, the unhappy kids
Who cannot accept that you’re reaching the brink
Of a great new adventure that makes you a star
Recapture your faith and toss away fear for
we all must die.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Myths and Legends
Somewhere between history, present, and past, they lurk,
Just out of sight they lie awaiting animation on my inner eye these
Fables of wisdom, luminosity of ‘otherworld’ and even life itself.
Tales of unrequited love , heroism ,for there is only victor and vanished
Passion, revenge, matricide and children lost as pawns in love and war.
What can they offer us with their glossy patina of truth these
Legends of ‘otherness’ and difference vying for our loyalty?
Power in the tribe, safe within the fulcrum of reality and disbelief?
Somewhere between the thin places, they lie claiming life in invention
In the fulcrum binding myth, legend and spirited grudging acceptance.
Just out of sight they lie awaiting animation on my inner eye these
Fables of wisdom, luminosity of ‘otherworld’ and even life itself.
Tales of unrequited love , heroism ,for there is only victor and vanished
Passion, revenge, matricide and children lost as pawns in love and war.
What can they offer us with their glossy patina of truth these
Legends of ‘otherness’ and difference vying for our loyalty?
Power in the tribe, safe within the fulcrum of reality and disbelief?
Somewhere between the thin places, they lie claiming life in invention
In the fulcrum binding myth, legend and spirited grudging acceptance.
An Inglorious War 1914-1918
Eyes blank, bodies shatter- soar in the current of hot air
then flumph into the dirt, broken, weightless flotsam
shared life and death in the unsung coffin of the trench
Unmitigated horror all around in hues of red and black
In the distance,the rat tat tat boom reveals reluctant day
No will to dawn on carnage bloody,brutal, hopeless
hoping none have lived to see theiring horses try to rise -
Disembowelled,entrails oozing sceaming for help but there
Are no words, no living hands to comfort their distress
Evil lives in this place hovers overhead
While Death waits with gentleling arms
For Death has no glorious lustre here
Nor will age weary glorious youth in sacrifice!
No honour in the children’s lives, so cheaply bought.
They lie forever now, entombed in time, beloved sons
beloved men of heart and soul, the flowers of the field,
extinguished forever in war's futililty and gloom of loss.
then flumph into the dirt, broken, weightless flotsam
shared life and death in the unsung coffin of the trench
Unmitigated horror all around in hues of red and black
In the distance,the rat tat tat boom reveals reluctant day
No will to dawn on carnage bloody,brutal, hopeless
hoping none have lived to see theiring horses try to rise -
Disembowelled,entrails oozing sceaming for help but there
Are no words, no living hands to comfort their distress
Evil lives in this place hovers overhead
While Death waits with gentleling arms
For Death has no glorious lustre here
Nor will age weary glorious youth in sacrifice!
No honour in the children’s lives, so cheaply bought.
They lie forever now, entombed in time, beloved sons
beloved men of heart and soul, the flowers of the field,
extinguished forever in war's futililty and gloom of loss.
Beauty and the Beast
The beast lurks within each one of us, but
Beauty brings no measure of safety.
For wearying flesh reveals writ clear
Received myths of beauty, past and present.
Tossed into deepest darkness, our beast is unredeemed
The unfit spotted mirror remind us- all are doomed
Botox,Body Sculpting, lotions foul and pungent
Create doe eyed Bratz and Barbie look-a-likes who
Search deeply their reflection for a glimpse of
Once upon a time true self, acceptance and diversity.
Beauty brings no measure of safety.
For wearying flesh reveals writ clear
Received myths of beauty, past and present.
Tossed into deepest darkness, our beast is unredeemed
The unfit spotted mirror remind us- all are doomed
Botox,Body Sculpting, lotions foul and pungent
Create doe eyed Bratz and Barbie look-a-likes who
Search deeply their reflection for a glimpse of
Once upon a time true self, acceptance and diversity.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
When The Earth Is Full
The boats keep coming
Yes the boats keep coming,
Where do people go
When the Earth is full?
Some say take them
Other say no,
But where do they go
When the Earth is full?
There are not many tigers
There are not many tunas,
Where do they go
When we fill the Earth.
Are we all that matters
Is God's creation in tatters,
Where do we go
When the Earth is full?
Ian Matthews
25th October 2009.
Yes the boats keep coming,
Where do people go
When the Earth is full?
Some say take them
Other say no,
But where do they go
When the Earth is full?
There are not many tigers
There are not many tunas,
Where do they go
When we fill the Earth.
Are we all that matters
Is God's creation in tatters,
Where do we go
When the Earth is full?
Ian Matthews
25th October 2009.
The Elusive Soul
Your warmth holds me,
I cannot see you,
Where art thou, O Soul,
Where doth thy hide?
I walk in pastures new
That now groweth old.
I return unto you
And cannot find thee.
In the hollows
In the woods
Where go you my Soul,
Why do I need you?
Within the pulse of life
The Soul hovers, nonchalant.
The threads of consciousness
Bind the Soul
Connect the Soul,
Where art thou now?
Amongst those twisted myrtles
In the ousing of the sphagnam moss.
In the chatter of the wrens
Or the songs of the seagulls,
Where go you O Soul,
Where do I find thee now?
In the graveyard
By the old yew tree
I glimpsed thee
In the ways of the past.
But the past is gone
And the Soul lives on, in the now.
Where art thou, O Soul,
Where art thou?
Soaring o'er the hills
Of my wanting.
Onward, past the trickling stream.
To the grant place of
Inner strength and light
O Soul, capture me.
Ian Matthews
25th October 2009.
I cannot see you,
Where art thou, O Soul,
Where doth thy hide?
I walk in pastures new
That now groweth old.
I return unto you
And cannot find thee.
In the hollows
In the woods
Where go you my Soul,
Why do I need you?
Within the pulse of life
The Soul hovers, nonchalant.
The threads of consciousness
Bind the Soul
Connect the Soul,
Where art thou now?
Amongst those twisted myrtles
In the ousing of the sphagnam moss.
In the chatter of the wrens
Or the songs of the seagulls,
Where go you O Soul,
Where do I find thee now?
In the graveyard
By the old yew tree
I glimpsed thee
In the ways of the past.
But the past is gone
And the Soul lives on, in the now.
Where art thou, O Soul,
Where art thou?
Soaring o'er the hills
Of my wanting.
Onward, past the trickling stream.
To the grant place of
Inner strength and light
O Soul, capture me.
Ian Matthews
25th October 2009.
Chicken Power
The pecking order's tough.
The going's sometimes rough
And at times
I can hardly see my way through.
I'm told to get real
I always thought that was the deal
Until it's me
Beginning to feel.
So the chicken makes a run
Away from the shun
To the world she knows so well.
It's a living hell
At times -
Stoicism and the like -
More's the pity really,
Cos the only thing
I know how to do
Is to give
Without strings
Without reason
Just to be.
But it's nothing but chicken shit out there,
The lucky ones find their roost
The others just seem to flap around
On the edge of that high, high ground.
Kym Matthews, 1995.
The going's sometimes rough
And at times
I can hardly see my way through.
I'm told to get real
I always thought that was the deal
Until it's me
Beginning to feel.
So the chicken makes a run
Away from the shun
To the world she knows so well.
It's a living hell
At times -
Stoicism and the like -
More's the pity really,
Cos the only thing
I know how to do
Is to give
Without strings
Without reason
Just to be.
But it's nothing but chicken shit out there,
The lucky ones find their roost
The others just seem to flap around
On the edge of that high, high ground.
Kym Matthews, 1995.
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