By Scott Bailey © 2018
A spokesperson
That one who speaks
Has their own agenda
And will render
Your will
To theirs
There’s
A truth
To ponder
Spokesperson
scott bailey
Drained
By Scott Bailey © 2013
Every buzz and chime
On the phone
Is a worry
Something has gone down
Something is wrong
Another demand
On my time and my brain
Which are both drained
Something
Must change
Tournament
By Scott Bailey © 2018
In life’s tournament
There are Kings and Queens
For whom the suffering and pain
Is entertainment
There are fighters
There are spectators
There are hawkers of wares
There are thieves
But most of us
Are picking up
The horses shit
The Wild is Calling
By Scott Bailey © 2018
The wild is calling
Feel the breeze
The scent of trees
The hunt!
Feel the ground
Rise and fall
Feel heart pound
Heed the call
But tomorrow
I will sit again
At my desk
And fear
Mistakes and failure
Do my best
Do the right thing
And the wild will still call
Until
I answer
Midnight
By Scott Bailey © 2018
There
A girl called midnight
A fighter
A lover
A spy
Danced free and deep in the valleys
Beneath a dark starry sky
She hailed from the lands
Of our fathers
With hair as dark as the night
And eyes a grey as the water
Where the bones of her enemies
Lie
No knight would come to her rescue
The dragon she rode upon high
Would burn every dreamy lover
With the glance of a fiery eye
What became of
The girl called midnight
Led by her passion and hate
Some say that still, she is dancing
In the icy heart of the lake
Deter
By Scott Bailey © 2018
Deterrents
Silently waiting
Mighty weapons
Hushed death
Deterring
But who will deter
The stupidity
That made them
Necessary
Deep Red
By Scott Bailey © 2017
Deep red
The varnish of old wood
Worn by years
Of rested elbows
And beer mats
As red as the liquid
In the glasses
Rich with age
Broken Eggs
By Scott Bailey © 2017
A new clutch of chicks
Awaken to a cold dawn
The fox scents a chance
Life and Death
By Scott Bailey © 2016
Potential new life
Excitement when waters break
New life brings us cheer
Six forever hours
Caressing a fading pulse
All cheer drains away
Farewell
By Scott Bailey © 2006
I sit upon my bed alone.
Thinking thoughts of you.
My heart sinks slowly like a stone.
In a pool so blue.
The pain grows greater every day.
Need I make that cut?
Alas, it is the only way.
All other doors are shut.
So take the knife and cut me deep.
I know it must done.
Though this pain will make me weep.
Relief will soon be won.
So now at last I say goodbye.
I need you now no more.
You must believe me, I did try.
My efforts though, were poor.
We could no longer stay as one.
So you were cut away.
It was the only thing to be done.
To take the pain away.
Farewell, my dear appendix.
Following a Hearse
By Scott Bailey © 2015
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
My dark dystopian vision is starting to look like a brighter alternative!
Humanity reduced to a bottom line.
Trapped. In a world where everything is measured and control pervades every area of life, four people begin to break down. Instead, they break through the walls of deceit and propaganda and into a world of revolution.
Each, in their way, vow to overthrow the established order. They embark on a journey against the forces arraigned against them, forces of state and self-doubt.
Ultimately their paths converge on a dangerous road and the discovery of an ancient secret.
One one level this is a story about how different people react the ever growing and relentless pressure of everyday oppression. It explores their journeys as they are broken and rebuilt and investigates their modes and motivations for rebelling.
At another level, it is a critique on the darker side of capitalism and free markets and how that has driven us further and further away from the evolutionary advantage that gave us supremacy in the first place. It questions whether the human race has doomed itself or whether we still have the capacity to wrench ourselves from the track we have so tightly committed our society upon.
Read an excerpt here.
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Feather Crown
By Scott Bailey © 2006
Shake!
Awake!
Shake!
Awake!
The sun.
Is up!
Rise up!
Rise up!
Open eyes!
Beneath
Blue skies.
Cast off
Sleep’s reins.
See!
The plains.
No sleep!
Breath deep!
Sun warms.
No storms.
Stretch arms.
Take arms.
Run!
In the sun!
Take bow!
Go!
Take spear!
Disappear!
When
Wind blows.
Lift nose.
And scent
why they sent
for you.
They come!
They run!
See!
The birds.
Speak.
No words.
Watch
them lead.
They
will feed.
Feel
the land.
Trust
your hand.
See
grass sway.
They come
this way.
Feel
the ground.
Hear
the sound.
Thunderous sound.
All around.
A mound
of meat.
Trust
your feet.
Spear
and bow.
Blood
will flow.
With
one voice.
We
rejoice!
And the buffalo pass,
to greener grass.
Dare
By Scott Bailey © 2016
I don’t dare to dream
Reality is too harsh
To just brush aside
Little Stone Church
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Little stone church
Nestled on a hill
Overlooking the sea
Watching over the harbour still
The boats nestled cheek to cheek
And those tossed on the waves
The bell rings out a guiding peal
Above the moss stained graves
And every sailor on the deck
Mouths a silent prayer
The church windows watch their pleas
With a cold and empty stare
The settlement around the church
Huddles to the old stone walls
Strong but cold strange comfort their
As the tolling calls
Older still the hill
Watches the fleeting boats
The flighty homes and towers
Their occupants dust motes
More enduring still
The constant shifting waves
Will eat the hill, huts the boats
Even the very graves
Little Corner
By Scott Bailey © 2015
A little corner
A little corner
That is my world
Shrunk in space
My only place
A desk, a keyboard,
a screen
A little corner
Of a room
A little corner
of time
Stolen time
from life’s demands
Time to dream
The keys on the keyboard
are keys
Out of this corner
this cage
Into a wider
free form world
and free dreams
Through the portal
of my mind
The little corner
has no end
It opens up
and expands
forever without end
The Tree of the Dead
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Stark black against cold grey skies
Black lightning frozen in time
Towering and immense
Spread over the world
The tree of the dead
On the termination of every branch
Every twig
Hang the skulls
Uncountable, unimaginable
They observe
From their cold black sockets
With their chilling grins
They watch
And judge
The tableau
Of life
Seas
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Ideas
Dreams
Decisions
Goals
All swept away
In the rolling seas
Of other’s
Perceived
Realities
Broken Shell
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Broken shell
Evidence of new life or life cut short
A new hungry mouth
Or a hunters hunger sated
Either way
Life is given
Evidence found
In our humble garden
Hole
By Scott Bailey © 2015
A hole in the ground
Still black water reflecting
Meteors above
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
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
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
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
Vampires
By Scott Bailey © 2014
Killers
Cold and ruthless
Hungry
For blood
Hot vibrant blood
Stepping out
Of dark and mists
Striking
From dark paths
And winding ways
Wearing fear
Like flowing cloaks
Chilling hearts that see
Stilling life
Unseen
Now
They walk by day
Woo us with tragedy
Shake our hands
Enamour us with
Their smiles
Drain us
As we admire their teeth
Power Race
By Scott Bailey © 2016
The race to power
Is won with fear and fury
While inert we watch
Drowned
By Scott Bailey © 2014
Finally drowned
Subsumed
The pressure of the deep
Too much
Tried to scream
It all rushed in
The life that was me
Swallowed in the sea
That is life
Heavy Hands
By Scott Bailey © 2014
The blood of a million children
Is heavy in my hands
Slipping through my fingers
Like eternal sands
Not the consequence of acting
But the consequence of not
A stain upon my conscience
And ever-growing blot
So I consume and I create
And so I spend and save
Consumer and producer
But I never gave
The hand that should have proffered
Is stained with guilty red
The reproaching cry from beyond
Of the wasted dead
So my heart is heavy
With echoes of that cry
If you believe of guilt you’re free
Look me in the eye
My Air
By Scott Bailey © 2014
This is my air
Laying like lazy smoke
On the course of a slow current
Tendrils reaching out
To you.
Yours is the harmony
The melody
The purple scent
To compliment
The air
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
The Ripple Effect
By Scott Bailey © 2006
Six flashes of gold beneath the mirrored air.
Ripples reach out to my feet.
Blurred images pass here and there.
Their intrusion indiscreet.
The casters of these images,
against their prison rail.
Disgust contorts their visages.
Behind a lacy veil.
What is true they scorn and spurn.
Blurred figures in a shaky land.
To look up! They will never learn.
And see the clear truth at hand.
The Piranha
By Scott Bailey © 2002
The flesh-eating Piranha fish
Is not as rare as you think
Much more common than one would wish
The flesh-eating piranha fish
Beware, you may be their next dish
If into the water you sink
The flesh-eating piranha fish
Is not as rare as you think
Scott Andrew Bailey - Author 