By Scott Bailey 2017
Automatic lives
With automatic answers
Easier to rule

Destination Dreams
Automatic lives
With automatic answers
Easier to rule
The filter of social media
Keeps us warm or angry
Reaffirms
The wall goes up
Again
Simple white paper
Flowing blue lines
Birthing complexity
Beyond the bounds
Of reality
Silk slides on the breeze
Meets the flow of sharpened steel
Leaves a perfect tear
Have you
Noticed
That the books
That teach us
How
To succeed at this
And
Win at that
Don’t teach us
Why
Meanwhile
Authors count their cash
The meteor dares
To kiss the flames of the sun
Then slingshots away
Sleek steel aperture
Widens for a brief moment
Exposing a truth
A reminder – for me – and anyone who needs it.
Amongst all the dreary advice and articles I have read I came across this comic. Which I think is just brilliant
The original article is here.
Thinking aesthetics
Is vaguely anaesthetic
Trying hard to write
Life is a marathon
They say
I disagree
A marathon is a race
Has a goal
They whip us with that line
Life is a marathon
Life is a song
Every
Note
To be
Savoured
Listen
Or sing
Or play
For
Life is a song
Exquisite black lace
Sheer black nylon
Spicy perfume air
Smooth black hair
Blood red lips
Deep blue eyes
Soft warm skin
Hot pulsing blood
Cool night beckons
Exquisite black lace
Unseen, unheard, forgotten
We
The people
Scorned
Belittled
Bled
We see, we hear, nothing is forgotten
We
The people
Have dignity
Might
And reserves
Someday, one day, soon
After that important thing
That I need to do
Little monkey clings
Tightly to his mother’s back
Ancient lizard flies
Life in unbalanced
Uneven
Unfair?
Karma is bunkum
Days, weeks, years of effort
For each small gain
Each small good
None reached with ease
While all around
The bad rains down
Good luck seems rare
Bad luck the normal
The scales uneven
It seems
This car is coasting
Familiar road ahead
Time to go off-road
Dark, thick between the trees
No light shines off
The dull black armour
Of the horseman as he rides
Slow through the forest of dreams.
Pale the winding path
The black knight follows
His weary steed plods steadfast
As its burden heavy grows
Head hung low
This quest was not the glory
He dreamed of in his youth
Like the birds that flew this morning
On dreams that seemed to be
A promise of life and growth
He followed the flighty birds
As they danced upon his dreams
Into this tree locked realm
And the winding path so thin
They drew him deeper in
And the vines of need reached out
With curled dependency
Wrapped around his limbs, his heart
Sinking deep their thorns
The pain shook him from his dreams
To the vines, he must cling
To keep his dreams at bay
Though they drag him deeper down
And hamper his faltering way
They are a part of him
He no longer sees the birds
Riding on his dreams
Now he knows the awful truth
That only dragons truly fly
The dragons he should slay
He could unsheath his sword
These vines to cut
Roar fire and leap to the sky
Instead, he forges onward
To endure until he dies
Silver twines
intricate wires
thin and delicate
stretching from misty past
to infinite future
Each one a story
a thread of life
Twisting they come together
Winding, entwining
Further down the road
The twines form a rope
Stronger
Older
Wiser
Thicker
Stiffer
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Gravity
When specific
Has strange effects
Things get wibbly-wobbly
Certain lines
Get bent
Other lines
Get crossed
So watch
The specific gravity
Blank white paper sheet
Tempting me to slash with ink
Cutting with dark words
Crossing out
Deleting
Inserting
Adding on
Dropping
Expanding
Changing
Evolving
Inserting
Crossing out
Life
And death
Gone
The blue eyes sparked with new
Gone to shadows
Gone
The play, the cowboys and indians
Gone to payments and tax
Gone
The times to stop and breathe
Gone to endless turmoil
Gone, gone gone
A little magic
A little luck
Is needed
A blatant, carefree affair leads to some odd visions and strange happenings in an ancient cottage in the sticks.
A collection of short stories concerning ghosts. Some are traditional ghost stories in the tradition of M.R. James and Edgar Allan Poe. Other are not. Some scare, some are fun. Some play with the concept of a ghost. There are ghosts who are out for revenge and the living avenging the spirits that curse them.
Ideal for sitting around a campfire and late at night under the covers. Or maybe not if the stories themselves are any guide.
Check it out at Amazon.
A paperback version is now available for those who prefer the feel of the paper while huddling by the fire – on your own – in the dark – with that noise behind you……
Droplet spins midair
Shimmering graceful free fall
Dashed against grey stone
What’s inside
Distorts and shapes
The exterior
All those dreams and hopes
Hates and fears
That make up the interior
The moiling
Boiling
Packed and stacked
Stretched and tense
Earnest pretence
That inside us all
Makes us all
What we are
Rather than what
We wish
Kerching! Kerchang! Pow!
Our economy picks up!
Soul still desolate.
Would all the earth succumb to the concrete blanket of mankind? Was that the best legacy they could leave? Was their vision that limited?
One day there would come a time when it would be more profitable to tear these trees down than to leave them. Then there would be no power on earth that would save them. Even concerned consumers couldn’t stand in the way of profits anymore.
Read an excerpt here.
Available as
or hardback
from Amazon
Tower of stone
Where hearts are joined
Names are blessed
Flesh is laid to rest
Still
The tower is stone
And cannot
Learn to love
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Span of stone
Taking some to work
Others home
As it has
For centuries
Others watch
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
A white wedge
Spotted in the corner
Of a run-down shop
Off the track
Joyful memories swell
And from the past
I hear the clattering
Of a metal bowl
Filling with a quarter pound
Of sherbet lemons
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Hot red and burnt orange
The peppers in the pot
Ready to be plucked
And in the dinner popped
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Whatever happened to gauges
Haven’t seen one for ages
It gives a feeling of age
Does a good gauge
Engineering solid and good
Surrounded by brass or set in wood
The odd jet of steam venting
What were they all preventing
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Happy Birthday to my Beautiful Wife!
Standing on a high hill
Green fields rolling away beneath my feet
Off into the hazy horizon.
Strong breeze blowing through my hair
It exhilarates me – makes me feel
I could step forward and fly
Yet
It is nothing to the way you make me feel
Laying in the sun
In the lush deep grass
Sparkles dancing on the water
Blue skies in great expanse arching high
Warms me – happiness safe in my heart
Yet
Cold compared to the warmth you bring
A word of praise from peers
Or reward for long hard work
A beer after a trying day
Shoring up my worth
Yet
Nothing makes me better – more the man I should be
Than having you by my side forever
My love
My wife
My Rachel
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
On wing
Defying the earth
Submitting to the wind
And trust
Soaring joy
Freedom high
Oh for wings
For real
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Bluebell path
Goes to the heart
A potent sign
Of where I am
Where I have been
My roots are theirs
We share soil
And shall again
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Splosh
And a little erosion
Helped on
By little hands
Joy is free
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Living to please
Rather than to be
More on show
Than on the prowl
But in the beating
Heart and genes
Waits the hunter
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Staring down the barrel
Of everyday life
Wondering how long the fuse will last
Tensing to dodge
The final bang
Never can
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
With my lens
Capture the beach
Only to find
A watcher
Staring back
What does it see
The watcher from the sea
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Defying downing gravity
To delight in dazzling dance
Shimmering, shining sparkles
Showering tiny tears
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Shining steel
A grill like a grin
Of the shark that killed you
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Defying the cold
In blue and gold
Vanity knows no bounds
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Mysteries of the deep
Simple and unique
Floating by in waves
Who knows what it saves
Deep in its memories
Deeper mysteries
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams