Hesitation

In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, In a crisis 

Vacillate, hesitate
That would be me 
In a crisis
I know
But I would not be alone
We should be thankful
For the impetuous
In a crisis
In these days
They are a pain

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

Knowledge

In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Toot your horn

A tenuous connection but that’s how my mind works.

Knowledge is nothing
To admit your ignorance
That is true wisdom

Photo by Janko Ferlic on Pexels.com

Polite Company

In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Polite Company

Polite company
Will not let you grow
It will smother you
With comfort
Only the harshest critics
Will allow you
To find the best seeds
To sow

Photo by Helena Lopes on Pexels.com

Lost at Sea

In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Ripped from the headlines

The headline on the BBC news website was.

Channel migrants: Thirty rescued as man dies off French coast.

He was running from fear
From death itself
But
Died alone and cold
In the sea
Because we did not want him
We wanted to be left
To dine in peace
On our cheese and wine

The Green Wizard

By Scott Bailey 2006

I cannot believe this! If anyone were to stop them, this mob of hungry hunters raging through the forest, then nobody would believe the explanation.

The people of the village, the county planners, the farmers, the surveyors, the members of the RSPB, all are hunting in the night. They are hunting the Green Wizard.

What will they do when they catch him? The question fills me with fear.

What will he do?

I feel responsible. It was my decision. I weighed up all the considerations and reached the verdict.

Whatever choice I made would be opposed. The conservationists urged me to leave the forest alone. Those who favoured progress wanted the forest managed and great tracts of it grubbed out for profit.

I should be used to this. I was brought up in the country and we learned to live with threats.

And I had made this kind of decision for years now. I was used to angry crowds. How could they know that I felt their anger and pain? I always found the best compromise.

Unfortunately, this often hurt the countryside.

What had gone wrong this time?

The Green Wizard, that was what. Ever since I set eyes on him I have sailed seas of madness and now dragged the entire community with me.

Last night I saw him. I was wandering in the evening light near the edges of the forest trying to make my decision. I wasn’t sure that this old forest would benefit or even survive having its heart grubbed out. But the village that nestled twinkling below the forest needed fresh hope. The industry this would bring might make a crucial difference.

Then I saw it! A green light bobbing between the trees. At first, I thought it was a firework for it had that bright magical quality. It was an artificial green like the glass baubles of a Christmas tree. It drew my heart towards it.

I walked in, my fear disappearing as I entered the solace and safety of the trees.

Darkness fell completely as the sun sank but the green light bobbed before me and led the way.

It must be a willow-the-wisp I half told myself but its beauty was far too potent to resist.

I came to a clearing and then I saw that the light was a flame flickering on top of a staff held by an old man. He was dressed in a green robe that shone as bright as the flame, with the same entrancing shade. He looked the way that all wizards look in storybooks. Wide-brimmed, pointed hat, long beard.

Only his beard was green. He was the Green Wizard.

He beckoned me towards him but when I got a few feet he held up his hand and I felt a force block me. I felt the full potential of his strength in that strange touch. He could have crushed me with a thought.

“The forest must not die.”

His voice was deep and strong, trusty as oak and full of command!

I nodded.

“There is life here,” he went on, “that is beyond the comprehension of your people. It is vital to the power of the earth in ways you cannot understand. It will not lie idle any longer. If you threaten, it will react.”

“Who are you?” my voice a scared noise in the sudden immensity and darkness of this forest.

“I am the life of this forest! I am the power of the earth!”

I nodded again.

“An agreement is reached!” he boomed. “If you break your bond your life will be forfeit.”

Suddenly something moved in the leaves. I whirled around and a fox bolted across the clearing. All around the clearing the bushes suddenly rustled and shook with life. I spun trying to see what made the noises. There was nothing.

It stopped. The only sound was my panting breath.

It was dark. The Green Wizard was gone.

I thought I had imagined him but I saw a flicker of green, like a warning, away in the trees.

I knew then what I had to do. I had made a bargain. My life was forfeit if I did not make the right decision now.

All my doubts of mad hallucinations disappeared then. The Green Wizard was real.

The next day those concerned gathered at the village hall and listened to my decision. It went badly. Not surprising.

I had some support. The conservationists were pleased with the verdict. Their precious forest would be left to its natural state.

But most of those gathered were businessmen and farmers whose livelihoods were at stake. They were not going to let some upstart in a suit take that away.

I lost my nerve. I couldn’t meet their arguments. Every reason I put forward for the conservation of the forest they pulled to pieces. I cursed the Green Wizard for abandoning me to this. Where was he now that I was fighting his battle?

Finally, I had nothing left. I declared that the forest would be saved. They would not relent. They wanted to know why I had made this decision when I had no argument to support it. They pushed and pushed me until I could stand it no longer.

I told them about the Green Wizard. I warned them of the danger.

The whole hall was silenced. Even my supporters looked at me, trying to fathom out the madness that appeared to have seized me.

Finally one of the farmers said it.

“He’s mad! Or on drugs!”

I bowed my head. Where was this going to lead?

“This is a farce!” said another voice but then everyone suddenly gasped and fell silent again.

I looked up.

There hovering in front of me was a small globe of bright green light!

I stared at it. What did it mean? It was obviously from the Wizard. It was his shade of green, vivid, unforgettable, alluring and dangerous like something was burning that should never have been set alight.

“Is this some sort of gimmick!?” said one of the farmers.

The globe of light rushed straight at him and knocked him off his feet in a shower of sparks. Then it stayed where it was, where it had hit him.

The farmer slid back across the floor and hit his head against the far wall with a crack. Blood flowed immediately. People rushed to his aid. Others turned to me.

“If he’s dead you had better pray that the police get here quick before we’re finished with you!”

They all suddenly looked ugly. I feared for my life and wondered if this is what the green Wizard had meant. Had I failed some kind of test? Had I been chosen to champion the forest and failed?

“Look!” A young girl was standing by the window pointing up to the forest. People stared out and piled from the hall. I followed.

There, high on the hill, the whole forest was alight from within with the strange green glow.

“It’s the Green Wizard,” I said.

“More likely some new age travellers who don’t want their peace disturbed by the idea of having to pay their way like the rest of us.”

At that point, the green globe suddenly shot out of the window, through the glass without breaking it. At impossible speed, it shot into the heart of the forest.

By now people were muttering things about ghosts and UFO’s but the main core of farmers and businessmen were having none of it. They decided to go and find out for themselves.

I followed the frenzied crowd that raced up the hill to the entrance of the forest. I felt drawn, whether by them or the forest I don’t know.

At the entrance stood the Wizard. Tall and menacing but only I had felt the touch of his power.

“Do not touch this forest,” he said but he sounded somehow weary.

“Who the hell are you?” someone called out.

“He’s the Green Wizard,” I replied feebly but was ignored.

“You can’t tell us what to do with our forest!” someone else yelled at the figure.

“We don’t need freaks like you dossing on our land.”

“If you want to remove me then you will have to catch me!” he sneered. With that, he turned and disappeared quickly into the trees. The flame of his staff was still visible.

With a yell the villagers set after him. they became a pack of hungry wolves after their prey. Their eyes burned with fury.

I yelled after them, warning them not to go. They did not listen. Helpless I followed in their wake.

They crashed through the trees and the undergrowth picking up sticks and waving them as they went.

And even now as I follow them I find it hard to believe.

I fear the outcome of this but I am not sure who I fear for most. This horde is wild and out of control. If they catch him I would not be surprised if they tore him limb from limb with their bare hands.

But I have felt the power of the Green Wizard.

Suddenly we are before him. There he stands. Like an old man, weary with the chase, leaning on his staff in the middle of the clearing.

The mob grab him. Their fury somewhat dampened by his appearance but not quenched. They bind him. The rope is tight around his arms but he does not struggle. As the villagers dance around him like demented witches he holds my gaze with an accusing stare.

The dancing goes on and on like a frenzy but slowly people drop. They sit and lie on the ground, tired by the night’s activity. Despite the Wizard’s relentless stare I too sink to the ground. Around me, people are falling asleep and I find I cannot resist the need to join them.

I awake to find myself choking. Something has hold of my throat and is strangling me. I can’t breathe.

All around me are bodies. All held by tree roots or thorny vines! Some struggle feebly for others it is too late. Many are being dragged into the earth by the irresistible power of trees.

The Green Wizard stands watching the process with a blank expression. His ropes lay on the ground, snapped and frayed.

He turns his back on me, not even deigning to notice my dying breath.

I tried. I did try.

The End

Image from Pixabay

What Ifs

By Scott Bailey © 2014

What ifs hang on
Like poisoned barbs
Even in the face of reality
All reason tells you
Let them go
Rip them from the flesh
Yet deep they go
Sharp their points
Beyond the anaesthetic
Of mere words
So rise up
From the river
Of doubt
Rip that flesh and bleed
Step on the shore of tomorrow
Healing first needs hurt

Image from Pixabay

My Favourite

In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, My Favourite

I miss you
My favourite
Those times
Oh, those times we spent!
In the twilight hours
The world between worlds
When the world beyond
Was no more
No more cares
No more worries
Now
My life is one long slog
One long fight
Back to find
My favourite
Peace and Quiet


Photo by Ida Rizkha on Pexels.com

Quote Me

In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Quote Me

A little explanation need for this one. The quote I always come back to is one from Frank Herbert’s Dune.

The only constant is change

I come back to this when times are tough, to remind me – nothing is forever. Even the hard times will end. But also to keep perspective – I always try and think – will I care about what I am worrying about in 10 years time. If not – it’s not worth the stress now! (I know that’s easier said than done.)

With that quote in mind here is a quick Haiku inspired by it.

Even the mountains
Are impermanent giants
The wise realise
Photo by S Migaj on Pexels.com

Kick It!

Let’s kick it into touch

Bucket lists!

Resolutions!

Traditions.

All they are really for

Is to transform you

Into the perfect consumer

Leeching away

All of you.

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Kick It

Moments

By Scott Bailey © 2015

The world clashes with me
Or I with it
Its movie reel passes before me
And I watch
Observe
But I am not of it
Occasionally
It brushes me
Pricks me
Interrupts my view
My observations
And the things I should enjoy
I don’t
Until I can observe them
Again one day
My moments pass
Slipping
I can never seem
To be in them

Image from Pexels

Resolve

Resolutions

Made again

Broken again

Closure?

Endings?

Realise 

Instead

Endings are beginnings

We should not

Resolve

But

Revolve

Photo by Miguel u00c1. Padriu00f1u00e1n on Pexels.com

In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Resolved

Stroke of Midnight

The brush of midnight
Sweeps darkness across the sky
Sprinkled with white stars

In response to Scott’s Daily Prompt, Stroke of Midnight

Scott’s Daily Prompt 01/01/2022

Today’s prompt is.

Stroke of Midnight


Where were you last night when 2021 turned into 2021? Is
that where you’d wanted to be?

New year, new challenge.

So last year I had a plan. To not post anything new on my website. I figured that by posting all my new work I was then eliminating that work from competitions etc.

So the plan was, keep the site going by reposting old stuff, while waiting new stuff in the background.

Well, that didn’t really work. I did the posting, but very little writing in the background. I did a few poems and a few short stories but nowhere near as much as I wanted.

So what to do?

I need a kick up the proverbial butt. So I  have decided to try another daily post challenge. I did one years ago, a poem a day challenge. This time I will try and do a post a day for a year based on this document. I may diverge from the suggestions but they will be the spring board.

To address my concern about eliminating myself from markets I will actually do two. One I will publish the other I will keep private.

I will also make each prompt a post that people can link back to if they want to join in.

I will also still post old posts. Let’s see how it goes.

The Forest of Dreams

By Scott Bailey 2015

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

Image from Pixabay

Gravity

By Scott Bailey © 2017

Gravity
When specific
Has strange effects
Things get wibbly-wobbly
Certain lines
Get bent
Other lines
Get crossed
So watch
The specific gravity

Photo by Prem Pal Singh Tanwar on Pexels.com

Floating

By Scott Bailey © 2017

Layers of smoke float
Blue in the heavy darkness
While lazy jazz plays

Jazz Bar
Author: Jimmy Baikovicius from Montevideo, Uruguay

Gone

By Scott Bailey © 2017

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

Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels.com

Interior

By Scott Bailey © 2017

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

Image from Pixabay

Conundrum

By Scott Bailey © 2016

The humdrum conundrum
Of life rumbles on
The pounding of
A thousand thoughts
The tension
Between the chains
Of convention
And the delicious
Whips of vice
Dreaming ends
Life rumbles on
On on
The beat of the master’s drum

Bespoke

By Scott Bailey © 2016

Are we lucky?
A comfortable generation?
Or is it just
That our chains fit us perfectly?

Abide

By Scott Bailey © 2016

Here I abide
Amidst the craters
Of too much cultural shelling
Here there resides
Residual echoes
Of now silent voices

Stranger music silenced
The pale lord voiceless too
Many last departures
Many miss the few
Clinging to the final notes
As lovers do

In dark and empty craters
Bubbles shadiness and greed
A fecund vile concoction
Upon which the beast will feed
Need is the successor
Here where I abide

Image from Pixabay

Missing

By Scott Bailey © 2016

Never ending beach
The crashing waves repeating
Permanence missing

Image from Pixabay

Still

By Scott Bailey © 2016

Stood before a wall
Dreaming of the road beyond
Still before a wall

Image from Pixabay

Vanish

By Scott Bailey © 2016

You must remember
When waking from reveries
All your dreams vanish

Photo by Ketut Subiyanto on Pexels.com

Seafarer

By Scott Bailey © 2015

Seafarer wandering over the waves
Fine hair glistening with rime
Roaming and riding forgetful tides
Living away from life
But living
True

A man
Wandering
Along forgotten paths
Following the ancient ways
Expanding his mind in ancient ways
Speaking to the earth and the animal guides
Silent ghosts that leave his heart silent and unanswered

Leather like tanned skin, wrinkled with experience of a life lived hard and loved harder, dedicated
waning in strength
and
yet filled with
fire and
sand

Seafarer
Where are you now

Image from Pixabay

Blues Bars

By Scott Bailey 2015

It sits right down
Sits all the way down
Then flies above the clouds
Soars high above the clouds
And I
I can’t get there
Can’t weave that
Magic weave

The harmony of the heart
The harmony of dreams and thought
With the making in the world
The making of the day
I crave
Crave that path
Sweet blue path
Of blues bars

The Lord of the Trees

By Scott Bailey © 2006

I am Herne the Hunter, Lord of the Trees,
and you are a leaf blown on the breeze.
Echoes and whispers inside your head,
set you on the path you were destined to tread.

Head of a wolf, eye of a hawk,
in the forest, the hooded man shall walk.
A man of balance not of gold,
Is it demon or god to whom you are sold ?

So string the bow and take up the sword,
Do my bidding and carry my word.
For you are my son Robin in the Hood.
You are the king of all Sherwood.

Ages

By Scott Bailey © 1999

In a crumbling house, we gathered,
sat around the ancient fire.
Logs burnt slow in the hearth,
warmed our expectant hearts.
Firelight flickered in the darkening eve,
We gathered around the elders.
sat in large and comfy chairs.
Red light upon our faces.
We heard of times gone by,
and smelt the burning wood.
The shadows held safe the past,
we gathered them in our hearts.
We looked back upon times gone,
held hands and were content.
Drinking from the cup of seers,
our fears eased, to sleep we went.

Upon the train, I sat,
late for work again.
Another day another dollar,
Tomorrow the same again.
But that’s the base on which I build,
The foundation for my fun.
Work hard, get paid.
Play fast, get laid.
Tomorrow is another day.
So head down, concentrate.
Don’t stop, can’t be late.
Avoid, the crunch.
Let’s do brunch.
Work hard, make a dime!
Night time, spend a dime.
Money opens up the door.
More, more, more, more!

Future goals.
Way ahead.
Sights set far.
Future goals.
Sacrifice.
For future goals.
Save.
Energy.
Spend nothing now.
For future goals.
Look ahead.
Way ahead.
Suffer now.
For future goals.
Work.
Don’t play.
Rest later.
Not today.
Save it all.
For future goals.
For future goals.
Sell your souls.
Don’t look back.
Only ahead.
Don’t think today.
Think ahead.
See the prize.
Of future goals.
Don’t listen to,
the bell that tolls.
For future goals.

Image from Pixabay

Soul

By Scott Bailey © 2015

A soul full
Of tear-stained dreams
As substantial
As vapour
At the mercy
Of whispering winds

A storm approaches

Image from Pixabay

Anticipate

By Scott Bailey ⓒ 2017

I anticipate
The dissipation
Of the all
The scattering
Of goals
The rise of dreams
To ride
Upon the mists
To be blown
Upon the winds
To reside
In clouds
And hide
In trees
To sleep
In earth
Drink water
Sup sunlight
Weep rain
And sigh

Photo by Quang Nguyen Vinh on Pexels.com

Wolf in Snow

By Scott Bailey © 2015

Hard the mud did cake
Matted fur, red blood flowing
On snow-covered wolf

Image from Pixabay

Repetitive History

By Scott Bailey 2017

Tyranny answers
As the replacement chosen
For austerity

In response to the daily prompt Replacement

#DailyPrompt

Image by DaKub from Pixabay

Filter

By Scott Bailey 2017

The filter of social media
Keeps us warm or angry
Reaffirms
The wall goes up
Again

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Tempting

By Scott Bailey © 2017

Blank white paper sheet
Tempting me to slash with ink
Cutting with dark words

Photo by John-Mark Smith on Pexels.com

Crossing Out

By Scott Bailey © 2017

Crossing out
Deleting
Inserting
Adding on
Dropping
Expanding
Changing
Evolving
Inserting
Crossing out
Life
And death

Photo by Skylar Kang on Pexels.com

When the White Wolf Walks

By Scott Bailey © 2016

When the white wolf walks
Hunting in silver moonlight
The red deer shivers

Notes

By Scott Bailey © 2014

Strings and drums
Swells and thrums
Filling halls and domes
Even sneaking in our homes

It warms our hearts
Can upset carts
Evoke our tears
Even stoke our fears

Calm the day
And send away
The darkest thoughts
Even move the worst of sorts

No compare
In empty air
So play the notes
Even on our dreams, it floats

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Pressure

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

Leaping

The trial of damns
Before the salmon’s reward
Bringing death and life

Image from Pixabay

Angel

By Scott Bailey © 2014

Mighty angel falls
Rules over a new domain
Longer verse explains

Image from Pixabay

Wrong Things

By Scott Bailey © 2014

Perfect thighs
Perfect abs
Perfect eyes
For perfect lives
We give our teens
Aspirational dreams
Of fame and fortune
Imaginary screens
And every flick of every light
Every glossy page so bright
Every song of every type
Every ad with teeth so white
Every billboard, every bus
Every website we like or plus
Every search and every text
Every life that we connect
Every meal and every drink
Every label phrased succinct
The many many many times
Perfect views assault our eyes
Programming the soft and greying minds
To covet
The wrong things
So much effort
Is required
For those minds
Are really wired
With the truth

Image from Pixabay

Magic Box

By Scott Bailey © 2014

It purrs like a magic cat
Glows like a willo’ the wisp
Warms like toasted buttered bread
Its spell cast out to the silver screen

Image from Pixabay

Timeworn

By Scott Bailey © 2014

Childhood senses
Seep away
The textures of touch
Savoury tastes
And sweet
The exhilaration
Of G-Force
The warmth
Of a bed
The brightness
Of a blue sky

All wilting away
Smoothed plain by time
and tasteless demands
and saccharine
Bound by safety
belts and laws
Hot fevers
of uncomfortable dreams
Under greying skies

How
to get it
back?

Image from Pixabay

Giants

By Scott Bailey © 2014

I have seen giants
Striding over the land
Power on their shoulders
Stern and strong their hand

Never do they falter
Never seen one stumble or fall
Always do their duty
Always answer the call

Through storm and wind and rain
The carry their burden true
Though other links may burn out
The giants stride on through

So remember this and tremble
Even the giants will pass
Fall into dust and rusty ruin
Scattered in untamed grass

One day their burden will dissipate
Their purpose will disappear
And the duty they discharged so well
A memory dimmed with time

Image from Pixabay

Sky Fight

By Scott Bailey © 2014

Flash in the dark blue sky
Clash of sword and bone
Roar of fire high above
Heaven’s thunderous tone

Samurai meets his nemesis
A dragon of the sky
Golden claw fights silver blade
Above the mountains high

Gods look down with fearful frowns
While people gaze above
Do they fear the fiery jaws
Or the hardened iron glove

The enduring will of the flying knight
Feeds his skilful blade
The ancient wisdom of the drake
Ensures he’ll not be played

Red streaks of fire on velvet sky
Silver streaks cut through
Showers of sparks come raining down
To birth a magic brew

And still the battle blunders on
All over every land
Until the both when both are stilled
By a cold and magic hand

Image from Pixabay

The Northern Stewards

By Scott Bailey © 2014

The thistle embraced the wilting rose
Joined the lands as one
Wars still rumbled across hill and plain
Dividing faith from faith

The stewards who ascended high
Would rise and fall and rise
Held heads so high they thought divine
Then tumbled to the ground

Sons of the island lost to war
The people scarred and tired
One form of tyrant sent to death
Another imposed dark law

Return and rise the steward’s house
Shaky on the seat
Look to longingly to the holy see
The thistle withered away

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt North

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

Golden Waves

By Scott Bailey © 2014

Waves of gold crash onto the shore
Bringing fire and steel and songs and roars
Colour and light bleed into the dark
Writing new borders, new Gods, new laws

Times of war and the shining axe
The pagan, the warrior, the thegn
The land divided up once more
Darkness was here again

Lost the marble luxuries
Returned to hall and hearth
Here began the journey
Of these words winding path

And here were born the names
That linger down through time
That gives us all identity
Born from conquests crime

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Marble

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

Seawall

By Scott Bailey © 2014

I
Once held back the sea
My name lent to these lands
I
Wandered since the dawn of time
Wander lonely still
I
The unseen walker in the trees
Always close behind
I
The whisperer good rulers heed
Then drowned out by greed
I
have been, am still, will be
When the time is right
I
Fatherless, explorer, wisdom’s well
Poet for the fight
I
Spark and dart through time and night
Dealing fate some blows

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Barrier

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday

Hero

By Scott Bailey © 2014

I hold aloft my steel
Scarlet streaked
With invaders blood
My flag whips
High on the hill
A victory that will echo
Across the land
At my feet
The dead
Men women and children
Warriors and supporters
Murder of an infant nation
That will yet rise again
Yet
My sword and I
Will be hailed
Through history
The hero and his weapon

Image from Pixabay

In response to my daily prompt Victory

#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday