By Scott Bailey © 2016
Brooding skies
For moody times
Thunderous justice
For shady lies
A storm is coming
Be prepared
For the arising
Of the weak and the scared

Brooding skies
For moody times
Thunderous justice
For shady lies
A storm is coming
Be prepared
For the arising
Of the weak and the scared
Kingfisher fishing
Silver treasure in the dark
Ice seals the lake shut
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
Are we lucky?
A comfortable generation?
Or is it just
That our chains fit us perfectly?
The cold swallows flee
Riding currents to the south
Rivers take their time
The mystical chord is missing
Congregation of the hearts
Cohesion of resistance
The friction that throws up sparks
Dragons stir on dripping hoards
Squeeze the bloody stones
Build their beds on broken bones
Their hunger ever fed
Lore is twisted into chains
Choking all who dream
Mystic songs have drained away
Silence reigns
Never ending beach
The crashing waves repeating
Permanence missing
Swifts swoop and dazzle
Aerobatics in the sky
Still, we watch in awe
Stood before a wall
Dreaming of the road beyond
Still before a wall
You must remember
When waking from reveries
All your dreams vanish
Let’s play with our pets
Keep them happy and content
While we milk them dry
Chains are other people
Cages social mores
Throw them to the floor
Bend bars
Soar
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
Golden sunlight fills
The air where the songbirds spill
Their song while frost kills
The music of the night!
The night of the wolves calling
The calling of the blood
The bloody business of mine
My feasting time
The traffic slowed
We were all following a hearse
Today
In respectful frustration
I took the time
To look around
At the rivers and fields
That normally
Speed by
We are all following a hearse
Lights in grey matter
Never reaching the day
Plans uncommitted
As the chance ebbs away
A refugee wanderer
In dream worlds and clouds
Where sparks can be realised
And escape from the crowds
Flying
Soaring
Roasting
Roaring
Majestic wings spread like thunder clouds
The dragon has come home to his realm
Memorise
All the sighs
Every loving glance
And long slow dance
Hold them tight
As we approach the night
Sanitise
Then fill with lies
Squeeze out the dreams
With mindless streams
Of celebs and fear
Until no one is here
Realise
And cherish the wise
Thoughts that flow
Before they go
Into the night
So hold them tight
Characterise
Categorise
Into a box
And cattle stocks
To milk and drain
To strike the brain
Live your dreams
For our revenue streams
Complete the bucket list
No source to be missed
Hold on to the light
For our gold so bright
Enamoured
By the glamour
Of the eighties
We stuck our heads
In the nineties sands
The new century
Is one of denial
Our time has peaked
There’s only decline
Left
No rhyme or reason
Bad luck keeps on reigning down
Good luck’s hard to find
The sun reaches out
And excites the northern sky
A watcher’s pleasure
Resting on the coast
The soothing sounds of the sea
Fill this empty shell
Hope holds back the tide
Stays the shifting golden sand
Thin mist arises
Two idiots
Glaring
Staring
Waiting for the flinch
Too stupid
To stop
Stupid!
They glare
At each other
Down time
From the first war
To the last
Life is a carousel
Bright, distracting,
Going around in circles
Fun
While its lasts
The painted ladies
Thousands fly from Africa
To be lunch for birds
Kept in deep dark fog
With tantalising beacons
But we remain lost
Spring showers cascade
The blackbird enjoys the hour
Worms join the party
In all the bluster and noise
There is lust
Hidden
Looking forward to a night out tomorrow
Where, no doubt, I will be looking forward to getting home
For a cup of tea
It’s an age thing
I have always tried to look forward
Trouble is
I miss the now
Tradition is the echo of oppression
The long shadow of old power
The dark night of the poor
A back drop for wealth’s fireworks
Yet its the poor who cling
Fast to slow-moving tradition
As the controllers far above
Play their fears like violin strings
The snowflake’s fate is
To melt, to make great rivers
Thus quenching the flames
The dormant waste
Will arise
And engulf the greedy
And the ignorant
And the happy few
Smother and squeeze
Their life
Out
Tailor-made suits
Tailor-made holidays
Tailor-made experiences
Tailor-made careers
Tailor-made relationships
Tailor-made friends
Tailor-made lives
You know
No matter the tailor
Clothes just don’t fit me well
Consider me
The scruff
And happy to be
In the few idle moments of the day
The few
The very few
I think
I dream
Big plans
And small
How I can achieve my goals
How I will relax tonight
A film?
A beer?
Finish my masterpiece
Find fame and fortune
And then the moment’s gone
Reality bites
Decisions are taken away
And I am the whim of everyone else again
Maybe
I should stop thinking
Stop dreaming
So my dreams
Are no longer buried
In disappointment
The caper is up
The plot has escaped
From all those lords and ladies
In their ermine capes
We know their game
Time for revolution
Is that what we’ll do?
Or just carry on the same?
The red sails are rising
In the grey of the dawn
The grey spume is parting
Before the forlorn
Drawing out passion
Promising dreams
To the young and the lost
Into the sea they stream
The red sails are gone
Over the blue
Long is the draught
Of its bitter brew
The red sails are parting
Tearing apart
Lovers and mothers
From the vein of their hearts
The red sails are empty
Of all that they took
The decks all wiped bare
Dreams all forsook
The red sails are cursed
My mother’s onshore
But none will set sail
To settle the score
I stand on the shore
Unsure. Intimidated
By the great green deep
Also inspired by an old and longer poem -> here
The secret passenger
Scampers around
Just looking for a snack
Innocent, unaware
Of the death that he carries
Why aren’t we railing?
Why aren’t we mad?
Why do we sit in silence?
In apathy so sad.
Is the sickle blunted?
The hammer dropped and cracked?
Has the guillotine lost its edge?
Has liberty backtracked?
The peasants have moved on
From field to factory to desk.
Is it beautiful progress
Or captivity grotesque
So day after day
after day after day.
We struggle and toil
No time to play.
We hand over our freedom
We hand over our cash.
While the fat cats sleep
on their growing stash.
Where is the spirit of liberty?
The hero in the square?
The lone horse trodden woman.
Defanged are those who care.
In the red embers
The wake of the forest fire
Fresh green shoots arise
We all have those moments
That we cringe to recall
Should we try to wipe them?
Or are they signposts to us all?
Time for illusion
For magic to be cast
For the world to fade
And dreams to ascend
A
Blank piece of paper
Has
Limitless potential
To become
A plane
A swan
A hat
Or an idle doodle
Or a poem of grief
Or love
Or rage
A protest
A plea
A stiff complaint
A soft seduction
Or
The start
Of a whole new world
We should meddle
With the peddling of their lies
We should obscure
All the surety of their spies
We should extrapolate
What they obfuscate
To find truth
We should hold hands
In bands and lands
Of support
The suits stand ready
To relieve you of your cash
Thus I am relieved
Darkness rules the deep
Bio-luminescence shines
Nature wins the day
Is life just spin the bottle
As the bottle maker laughs
Or a game of hopscotch
Lines drawn in shifting sand
Children’s games and distractions
Carried over time
Methods and controllers
Programming sublime