The day follows night
Repeating the witching hour
Except, the mayfly

#haiku
The day follows night
Repeating the witching hour
Except, the mayfly

#haiku
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 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

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

Master of words
By words mastered
Many a politician can claim
Those that abuse the power
By which they rose
Will be bitten by the beast they tamed
Such is the reality
We choose to believe
But the truth we know is worse
Where corruption rules
It protects its own
Mostly, the corrupt rule

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
With his faithful tartan cap, its bobble flicking black dust into the air.
Holding in that tousled and already greying hair.
With half hundred weight of coal to deliver down the street.
With his smiling green lorry, tiny windows at his feet.
Walking up the narrow path, a smile upon his face.
Care worn lines deep with dust, crisscrossed like living lace.
Bringing warmth to many homes and our own.
Now the coal has gone but the lines remain beneath silver hair.
Hands hard and black with oil and years of toil and loyal care.
Has no wealth and all wealth one could want within his soft brick walls.
Always ready to respond to our lost and stranded calls.
Tall as a tree and as strong against every withering storm.
A mere spanner in his hands his wonders to perform.
Humble, with every reason to be mighty proud.
With pride these words should be read to all aloud.

Is it too late for
Tears and grief to rise again
I can’t hold them back

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

In an unremarkable flat
Next to a noisy tapas bar
Is where, perhaps, Hawkins might die
Folded in his chair
It will not be remembered
Unlike his remarkable mind
Such are the vagaries of life and death
Both ridiculous and sublime
Read more in A Spring of Dreams
Unknown search terms – ten
Wonder what they were after
That brought them to me

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
In golden age where steel was king
Rich voices of great bards there ring
The rising pride of knights there swells
Around the ring where justice dwells
Behind the throne where power lies
The dark intent deep in his eyes
The ancient druid gathers spells
Around the ring where justice dwells
The jealous son holds his dark ire
Until it rises to a fire
Bells of doom ring their deathly knells
Around the ring where justice dwells
And so the cracks came from within
Mens’ convictions so very thin
Shattered by those doom laden bells
Around the ring where justice dwells

Another spirit lost
Awash in the swell and foam
Anguished over lost love
Anger dealt him the blow
Arising from the sea
Alighting on the air
A bright bird arises
Snoring on my chest
Warmth and love resting at peace
An early night in

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
A single mote
of stardust
sparkles bright
in endless black
drifting
No goal,
no direction
for time
that feels
eternity
Nothing
Cold, cold
Nothing
And then
Attracted to another
Bright shining mote
Joined together
Bound in twisting dance
round and round
and down
What seems forever
togetherness
never apart
again
The other comes
with more attachments
gathering around
A family, a clan
a get together that has no end
a bouncy, rowdy party
as things heat up
And the happening attracts more
and the numbers swell
the dances speed and the steps
multiply with complexity
The place is hotting up
as events coalesce
Then the point of no return
This is the place to be
the single mote has pulled
more that could be dreamed
and the crowds rush in and in
and down
the crowds become a crush
And the heat gives rise to new forms of dance
and new energy as the crowds arise
And then the circle is complete
as the fire starts to burn and the lonely mote
is now the heart
of brand new burning star

Image from Pixabay
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Giving people health
Appears low priority
Set against profits

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Corrupt. Wealthy. Safe.
Wallowing in filthy loot
And laughing at us

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Lost to us, never forgotten
Unusual tides took him away
Carried to peace and to sleep
And even as the dark will swell
Sad, but sad will not prevail

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

My eyes are sensitive to the light
They are filtered
Protected by shades
What about my heart?
My feelings?
No filter please
I am sensitive
I need all the light let in.

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Porcelain tiles
Cold on my cheek
How did I get here?
When did I fall asleep?
The hatchet in my head
Overpowers the hatchet in my heart
For now
And then it begins again
Golden liquid calls

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Lines and words and lines
On one screen they mean this
Elsewhere something else
On paper strangely old
Before my eyes
Flashing by
Doing magic
But why
For the small ends
Of small goals
Chipping away at mountains

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Is it enough?
These words
We gather here
From across the globe
Our thoughts thrumming
Over strands of the web
They gather and agree
Mostly
And we know
What is wrong with the world
What is right
How to behave
And with well picked word
We condemn
Or cajole
the effective ones.
But is it enough?
Just the words.
Yet once upon a time
There was a spell
A magical combination
That set me on this course
Of reason and reason-ability
Maybe it is enough
If someone somewhere
Is moved by our spells
To do the right thing.

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Swirling, whirling milky clouds of stars
Spiralling down to the black hole
Supermassive hungry dark
Swallowing all it can
Axle of the wheel
Sparkling star arms
Shining cloud
Holds our
Home
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Worn wooden floor
Distant, ancient scent
Tobacco long gone
Beer, deep red in thick glass
Salt and vinegar crisps
Pickled eggs
Pickled patrons
Warmth and welcome
Long gone like the smoke
One missed

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Mistakes seep into
Our minds through repetition
Habitual truth’s born

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Taking my son to my old school
Following the bus I used to take
Still the same number
Basically the same model
The same smell of classrooms
And I wonder
Is this it?
Are we destined
To repeat lives?
It is not enough
I want more
More for my children
Than was there for me
No fear
More doors
No prejudice
More joy in knowledge
Is that too much to ask?

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Clouds piling up dark
Lightning flashing – sky to ground
Rumbling all around

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
I am a mirror
Distorted
Even cracked
But a reflection still
I share with you my fear
And passion
My fear is blue
Deep dark blue
All sharp angles
Like shark fins
And knives
Fear that turns me
As white as a clown.
Alas, my fear is my passion
My love
I seek it out
To taste the thrill
Of the fear and the chase
And I share it out
While I play my games
with the orphan
the fear
the dark, dark blue
that bears
the sign of the bat

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
No reality.
That’s what attracts them
No history, no baggage
Only dreams of the night
That’s the attraction of the mistresses,
the hookers and the one night stands.
No reality.
Better to live in real love
Than empty dreams

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
The lights on the corners of the boxes of steel
Are giving me a pain in the head
Like the fools who drive slowly in the outside lane
They are driving but their brains are dead
They have a purpose those lights you see
And I expect them to flash
Maybe that is my big mistake
Forgetting people are so rash

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Imagine
Me
I kill without discrimination
for race, for age, for sex or sexuality
I take saints and sinners
I take your loved ones
in return
I deal you pain
without explanation
when asked
the answer is
that you cannot hope to understand me
As a man
you would lock me up
revile me
or label me insane
But I am divine
So that’s OK then

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Glistening silver
A delicate spider web
Fallen tree around

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Taut relationship
Strained over a bloody mess
Chemical fallout

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Sound, sound, drumbeat hard
Too loud, who cares, light flashing.
Thumping beat, hot air, alcohol haze.
Saturday nights of days gone by

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Winter’s wind blows fierce
through silk and wood it does pierce
a lonely howling

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Splashing on the beach
Throwing pebbles in the surf
With red sun sinking
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
I am a tolerant man no more
Intolerant of inequality
And all who promote it
Intolerant of injustice
And all those who peddle it
Time to make the world
The way it should be

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Is society
Tension on the webs between
Elites and masses

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
As a race
We should step up
To eliminate the gap
Between the haves and the have-nots
Between the singers with their bling and the slaves on the line
Between the bankers with their blank cheques and the children in poverty
For most of history most men women and children
Lived in misery, died hungry.
We are a disgrace
As a race

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Back from the shore
Into my arms.
After an explore
In a world of charms
A world full of wonder
Mystery and fun
Of beaches and crabs
And space to run
Breathing salty air
Hearing laughter ring
Dancing without a care
Of what tomorrow may bring
So dance some more my son
Enjoy the sun and sea
When the day is done
Run back home to me
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Another one lost
Too short, too precious, and gone
Little heart flown high
Autumn golden brown
covers the hard icy ground
a leafy carpet

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Bird sings by the pool
in the spring in a soft cool breeze
her voice a sweet sound

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Brushed by death today
Twice.
Metal boxes speeding
Too fast, too near me
Driven on by the wrong thoughts
Or expensive wanderings

Starlight is silent
Waves crash and roar on the shore
Then there is matter

You people don’t understand.
It’s tradition.
It’s sport.
It’s in our genes.
Blood.
Jobs are created
By the sport we choose.
By the blood we shed.
Surely that’s enough.
Of course
The same can’t be said
For you
And your cock fights.
Shining argent in sunlight or silver sheen in the rain
Letter, rings, lions.
Phoenix or tiny names
Even flying angels and leaping fluid cats.
Bright, alluring but for many
The last thing they will see.

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Motes of dust
So we have been described
Floating in the vastness of time and space
Small, inconsequential.
Dust motes made of dust from ancient dead stars.
Yet.
So far.
Amongst all we see,
the starfields of diamond dust,
the ancient piercing light,
the glowing, magical, wispy nebulae,
the rainbow rings of Saturn,
the storms of Jupiter,
the blinding light of supernova,
the singular dark of black hole,
world after world
galaxy after galaxy.
Nowhere have we found
yet
Anything that compares
to the complexity, the wonder, the intricacy,
the magic
of
the thoughts of you and I

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

A sad shadow falls
Casting gloom over our dreams:
Sparks dispel the dark!
Originally published in A Spring of Dream
Fox detests the stream
Barring the way to her prey
Favour for the hare

In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #258 Favor&Detest
#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

Getting what you wished
Is not always what it seems
So wish well my son

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams