By Scott Bailey © 2015
A hole in the ground
Still black water reflecting
Meteors above
Hole
Creative Writing
The Universe
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Special, general
Einstein’s relativity
Beauty and balance
Leaves
By Scott Bailey © 2015
I find myself
Reading a book
A real book
A technical book for sure
But real paper
Real leaves
Turned with relish
With real fingers
Well
Hello old friend
Tales
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Tales woven over the air
Tales woven in print
Tell you where and how to belong
And to stay there
This is your tribe
This is your way
Here’s your beliefs
The way to behave
But digital lines
Weave different tales
Social arising
Communities felt
So ancient tellers
Beware of the light
Too fast to contain
With old fashioned lies
The Speed of Light
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Sunlight from the past
From where coldness rules supreme
The mighty fallen
Cold
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Winter is coming
Snow sweeps down from the cold north
Followed by the dead
Swooping
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Height, falling, swooping
Skylarks catching air, rainfall
Drowns the fleeing mouse
Mare Nostrum
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Mare Nostrum
We don’t support it
They said
So it is gone
In other words
Let them die
Stopping people dying
Might encourage them to live
And after all
What are they
But the victims of war
And rape and torture
Who wants them cluttering up the place?
A fitting epitaph
Perhaps
For the West
Rescue
By Scott Bailey © 2015
From butterflies in spiders webs
To wandering dogs down country roads
These are just some of the deeds
Of rescue
She has done
And of course
She rescued my heart
From certain single life
And ensconced it in
A loving family home
Words – A Spring of Dreams
A Spring of Dreams
365 poems of different forms and moods. A poem a day for a year.
Class
By Scott Bailey © 2016
The wolf pack is firm
In a superior class
Hunting the weaker
The Ancient Market
By Scott Bailey © 2015
There is an ancient market square
Where we all spend our lives
And round and round the stalls we pass
Consuming precious time
The gates are closed to hold us in
While hawkers hawk their wares
Criers cry of doom beyond
The solid steadfast walls
In their towers high above
Lords and ladies gaze
Down upon the writhing mass
And counting out their pay
Where’s the farmer in his field
Where the traveller strange
Where’s the road beyond the gates
Or the key to let us out
So on and on forevermore
We circle round the square
In trenches deep from shambling feet
Beneath the icy stare
Holiday Done
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Driving home
Fun is done
Sleepy heads
Happy ones
Bed beckons
Satisfied sleep
This is the peace
The turmoil
Aims for
Forest Fire
By Scott Bailey © 2016
Wood cracks with a flash
Sparks dance in the air, falling
Down to cooling ash
Mankind Limited – The Future?
Haiku Crib
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Five syllables here
But seven on the next line
A breakdown of thought
Potential Supernovae
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Red pulse
Beating hard
One day
Will blow apart
Until then
Keep on spinning
All in its well
Safe for now
For now
Deep Sleep
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Trees on the horizon
Fingers accusing the sunset
Shimmering waters deep
The soul of man divided
A fear that never speaks
Darkness encroaches deep
Thunder in the morning
Lightning cracks on high
Rolling sound so deep
Division rends asunder
Lands that had known peace
Now their daughters sleep
Over the Plains
By Scott Bailey © 2016
A warm summer breeze
Teases scent across the plains
Tight the wolf pack runs
Whisky and a West Wing
By Scott Bailey © 2016
All around me
The walls of my life
Are tumbling down
In slow mo
I am watching
In slow mo
Wondering if
I will survive
Console myself with a
Whisky and a West Wing
Here it comes
The bluster and lies
Sugar coated
Mustard
Wonder which
Turning was wrong
All those choices
Drawing me downward
Further and Further
Darkness beyond
Wonder if
There in an exit
Will it end
If I am still
Silent and still
What use is will
When it is still
Aubade
By Scott Bailey © 2015
I pause at the door
Look down
At the mess on the floor
Think wryly
Don’t trip on my shoes
I don’t want to go
Believe me in that
Some things just cannot be
I hope you find
Happiness one day
I could not say goodbye
I am sorry
The chance was gone
Give the kids
A big hug from me
And cry, if you can
Hate me, if it helps
Feel the shape of the hole
I have blasted
In your heart
And fill it to the brim
And overflowing
With new loves and laughter
The heal and hold
You in his arms
My time is over
I turn away
Compelled
Walking through this door
Unable to refuse the finger of death
Where is My Wine?
By Scott Bailey © 2015
My lips are parched
For the wine
Promised on the air
Where is my wine
To dull the pain
Of waiting
Promises undelivered
From on high
So what now?
Carry on and on
Knowing no other roads
No junctions left
My lips are parched
Where
Did I lose my wings
Only for You
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Only for you
Do I shoulder the collar
I pull the plough and furrow
Only for you
Do I labour all day
To bring the bread and water
Only for you
Do I toil my days
Until my limbs are broken
Only for you
Do I endure the whip
The cursing and the shouting
I could roam free
Over hill and dale
Run through deep green grass
And let the wind blow
Through my mane
And drink fresh mountain tarns
I could follow my dreams
Into the clouds
And fly with birds on high
But I curb my dreams
Relent freedoms sweetness
Shrug the reins back on
But only for you
Only for you
Timeslips
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Oh, give me time, oh, give me time, give me time in my life
So I can dream and I can find an escape from this strife
So I can soar in the sky where only freedom abounds
Where we can dare to be ourselves and death does not his rounds
But these are dreams that slip away, drained by vampire bites
So we watch every day as they fade like spent candle lights
Sucked away by the days and by the burdens of our lives
Yet in this turmoil of life is where most creation thrives
So, give me time, oh, give me time, give me time in my life
Starlight
By Scott Bailey © 2015
I was born in fire
In the fiercest whitest heart
I was flung in dying throes
Out into the dark
And through the dark I travelled
Over time you cannot dream
You cannot comprehend
The scales of things I’ve seen
The birth of stars from dust
From cold to burning fire
And then to bloated giants
And back to dust again
The start that swirl together
In hordes you will never count
Swallowed into nothing
Never to get out
Bright white young ones burning
Fast and bright and blue
Until they burst with energy
Too bright for me and you
And clouds like angels wings
Or swirling demons eyes
And flighty comets dying
With sparkling icy cries
All this and much much more
I cannot tell you all
Many many of your lives
Would pass before my tale
But now my time is dwindling
Now my tale must die
I have reached my end
I have reached your eye
The Politician, The Voter and the Child
By Scott Bailey © 2015
You work hard
I struggle by
In the dark
You’re a hard-working family
To pay my bills
A silent dark
You deserve more
To keep my job
Shattered by
Respect and remuneration
My family safe
A scream so stark
Higher wage
Bills accrue
A sister torn
More tax
No breaks in sight
A mother too
Security
I am undermined
And then my turn
Here they come
By cheaper crews
To be their tool
To take your jobs
And labour pools
Alone I lived
We try to stop them
Let down by those
My family died
But the law demands
For who we fought a war
Alone I ran
Freedoms we ill afford
Belts pulled tight
Alone to hide
So we must let them in
Doors shut tight
Far away
We need your fear
As our land
Where wars don’t rage
So let us pass
Slips away
Across the sea
Stronger laws
Dreams of the past
Into a cage
And take your cash
Of golden days
And forms and forms
For a better way
Seem far away
And questions long
Altogether now
Every man for himself
And looks of scorn
Watch your backs
Seems the only way
And acts of wrong
Strengthen our national pride
So I must take a stand
Drowning in
Defend our ways
Against the tide
A stinking sea
Our traditions
That seems to me
I cry
Like class division
To rise and rise
No one pities me
And stay an island proud
To drown our island’s pride
No one pities me
Milk
By Scott Bailey © 2016
Renowned Harvey Milk
His life anything but smooth
His legacy shines
Blunt Hammer
By Scott Bailey © 2013
When horror is turned to love
And death has become high romance
Do the forces of the underworld
Practice a jubilant dance
Do vampires laugh with glee
And werewolves lick their fangs
As they open up their gates
With fanfares, bells and clangs
And into their arms they run
The poorly misguided youth
And their heroes welcome them in
With claw and jaw and tooth
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Cloud Rider
Fantastical clouds today
Rolling over the land
Like a giant wave
Does Thor ride that tube?
To Odin’s disapproving frown
Joy’s deficit
The cost of swings and roundabouts
Power Race
By Scott Bailey © 2016
The race to power
Is won with fear and fury
While inert we watch
Our Mark
Ugly the scar
We leave upon this earth
As we puncture
And drill, and frack and crack
A long, searing scar
If this is what marks
The passage of our lives
What then will mark
Our passing?
The New God
By Scott Bailey © 2018
There was
This civilisation
That worshipped
A God
A new God
Not a water god
Nor a sun god
Not a god of the earth at all
But like all gods
Before
This one promised
Safety and security
In return
For absolute
Fealty
When times were hard
Lives were demanded
And lives were given
Though tears were shed
It was accepted
And the God was given a name
To ease the pain
And make the people
Forget
They were enslaved
Made them think
They were a part
Of something bigger
They called this new God
The Economy
Seemed appropriate for today – after all keeping the schools open demonstrate’s exactly this thinking.
Cold Hard Hate
By Scott Bailey © 2014
Cold hearted calls
Behind cold stone walls
Directed at a late great clown
Filled with such hate
And vitriol great
Delivered with thunderous frown
But they do not see
That we are free
From what they term belief
But hatred and fear
Will never come near
To dimming the laughter and grief
So go back to your knave
To the submission you crave
Kneel with the weight of your hate
Lower your head
Grovel with dread
But you will never ever create
The Voice
By Scott Bailey © 2014
There’s a voice I know
From way down deep
Fuelled by wars
That never sleep
It’s warm but still will be
Ever lonely
It sings of thoughts
And curses old
Soothes the weak
And beats the bold
Finds us in our weeping
And our fury
It moves our walls
And wayward paths
Offends our truths
With staggered hearts
Weaves its way into our
Very grieving
I wonder now
At all the cost
And when at last
No wars are lost
Will the voice still find its way
Towards us
Or will it fall
In silence then
The broken harp
The dried up pen
Or will we hear the whispered
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Mayfly
The day follows night
Repeating the witching hour
Except, the mayfly
#haiku
Feel
By Scott Bailey © 2018
When was the last time
You really felt
The weave of a really
Good fabric
Wool or tweed?
Or the tickling temptation
Of lace
Over smooth, warm skin.
Or shivered in the dark
Back against the rough
Hard bark of a trunk?
The screen steals our eyes
And the other senses
Wither
Where the Grey Wolves Grieve
By Scott Bailey © 2014
On a barren plain
Where food and joy are sparse
The desolate packs wander
Watching slow time pass
Here
The grey wolves grieve
With rose stained eyes
Patrolling their border wide
Preserving what is left
Of what they hold inside
It’s why
The grey wolves grieve
They gaze across the delta
To far off distant times
Where game and ease were plenty
Than in these austere climes
And so
The grey wolves grieve
Disgusted by the carnage
Where the red fox roams
On guard for rebel spirits
Keeping safe their homes
Where
The grey wolves grieve
Yet what they seek in earnest
Deep within their hearts
They know is far beyond them
Beyond their stilted arts
Endless
The grey wolves grieve
The packs struggle onwards
Huddled in their gloom
Their hearts so full of anguish
For hope there is no room
In this land
Where the grey wolves grieve
Districts
By Scott Bailey © 2018
These areas
Our neighbourhoods
Will become districts
Classified by wealth
Worth
Class
And faceless systems
Will place us
Where they see fit
This Isle
By Scott Bailey © 2014
Red the blood
That flooded the plains
Of the green valleys and hills
Where children still lay
White the bleached bones
Of warriors old
Who died for their lords
Defending high homes
Blue is the blood
Of those who command
With wires of constraint
And tradition’s grey chains
Yellow
By Scott Bailey © 2014
Yellow is the sand
That slips and tumbles in the glass
Sifting through our fingers
Yellowed is the ancient paper
Where ancient text resides
And the finger that glides
Tracing shaky wisdom
Economists
By Scott Bailey © 2018
Priests
Determining the will
Of their god
Deciding
Which lives will be sacrificed
To keep it from failing
And flailing its limbs in a frenzy
That will crash and smash
The mighty of the land
So the weak are thrown
To its lack of mercy
To spend their blood
At the will of the priests
Known as
Economists
Winds
By Scott Bailey © 2014
Dusty grey pigeon
Battered by the wind
Ruffled feathers, frantic wings
To stay true to course
A struggle
A tall ship sitting silent
In the harbour on
Still calm seas
Regal, proud and ancient
Going nowhere now
A queen strutting her stuff
Colours on parade
While those who earned the medals
Into memory
Slowly fade
Slime
By Scott Bailey © 2018
From the slime, we came
To the slime
We seem to defer
Black and White
By Scott Bailey © 2014
A black and white film
About black and white issues
With grey morals on display
In our multicoloured 3D world
What has really changed
Injustice still looks the same
The News
By Scott Bailey © 2013
What’s behind the story
What is the reason for that news
Who gets the benefit, the prize
The envelope with the bread
The law successfully passed
The company tracked greased
Somebody’s life made easier
At the cost of somebody else
Cable Ties
By Scott Bailey © 2013
Cables tie us
Hold us tight
To one spot
Even invisible ones
Chains
Keeping us busy
Keeping us attentive
Keeping us productive
and consuming
So when they are cut
We are lost
Unable to produce
As we once did
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday
The World in a Book
By Scott Bailey © 2013
The world in a book
For my son
To show him the places
Across the seas
That he dreams of.
The colours,
The creatures,
The cultures and the clashes.
The world in a book in his hands
As one day
The world will be in his hands.
Undermine
By Scott Bailey © 2018
Background contempt
Background fear
Background doubt
Background shame
It’s there
Undetected
Subtle
In the everyday babble
Insidious
Designed
To keep us down
So
Find the right song
To drown it out
And live
A better
Life
Revision
By Scott Bailey © 2013
Swirling in the mists of history
Mystic figures whirl
Dark silhouettes of dangerous men
Stride along with pride.
A flash of a sword, the chord of a song
the clash of a shield, the beat of a drum.
The roar of a fire in a welcome hearth.
The hearty sound of the comrades’ laugh.
The scent of a feast, the warmth of the soup.
The strength of the beams over the hall
The smoke rising up into the straw
All of this and still there’s more.
A cold wind blows, the mist rolls back,
To show the cold hard facts.
In response to my daily prompt Archive
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday
A Holiday for the Mind
Modern life is frantic – filled with demands and crammed with stress.
We forget to tend to the mind – the part of us that has to deal with it all – balance all the spinning plates.
What if we could take a holiday each day – just a short one – a few minutes, half an hour – whatever it takes. Everyday.
Well, there’s a way.
Read a poem, absorb it – explore it, let it take you somewhere else. Think about other thoughts for a while.
And I have some – 365 in fact – one for each day for a whole year.
A Spring of Dreams
Check it out – give it a go and give your mind some R&R
Scott Andrew Bailey - Author 