By Scott Bailey © 2016
Dead enthusiasm
Passion for mundane labours
Seems to be required
Enthusiasm
Writing
Another Anthem
By Scott Bailey © 2016
Ring the bells of life
Every heartbeat tolling on
So jingle them well
Relax
By Scott Bailey © 2016
Relax
It’s just the end of the world
Relax
As the wall tumbles down
Relax they say
It will all work out
In the end
If you down in the dumps
Smile
It’s the positive attitude
That wins the day
Which is just another way
To say
It’s your fault
Relax
It’s just the end of the world
Relax
As the wall tumble down
Relax they say
It will all work out
In the end
Tell that to the man
Asleep in the door
Tell that to the maiden
Dead on the shore
Tell it to the lonely
Tell it to the lost
To the OAP bitten by frost
Relax
It is the end
Moody
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
Fishing
By Scott Bailey © 2016
Kingfisher fishing
Silver treasure in the dark
Ice seals the lake shut
Maddening
By Scott Bailey © 2016
It’s a maddening
Saddening state of affairs
That everyone knows
The rulers don’t care
And nobody does a fucking thing
And the includes
Me
The shadows around us
A deep as the night
Masquerade as stars
Shining vile light
Showing the way
To the promised land
Lead by the hand
There it awaits us
The cage of our choice
Fully charged senses
Completely blocked voice
Thus is the fate
Of all but a few
All of us damn lazy
Fools
Folly
By Scott Bailey © 2016
She stared at the artefact. It reminded her of a flower. Well, reminded was the wrong word. She had never seen a flower – there were no more left. They had died out long before she had arrived.
Everything had.
But in the last few months, her colleagues had managed to decipher and read the ancient data they had found here and there. They had pieced together a rough history of this dead place. Not much but enough – enough to know what happened.
Enough to know it could happen to them.
Enough to know what a flower looked like.
Before they had died – somebody had carved a final message on this artefact.
‘Man’s final folly!”
She wondered at that. She could not fathom its reasoning.
It was beyond doubt now that this giant metal flower had been the instrument that had called out to them so long ago. Sent its message to the stars.
And they had heard. 20,000 long years ago she and her colleagues had boarded their ship and started on their way.
In all probability, the flower was still broadcasting then. The carver of that message was still breathing good air.
No more.
There was no more good air. There was nothing left to breathe it.
What puzzled her more was the fact that the remaining histories made it plain that it was foreseeable. Preventable even.
Yet she could also see that their own masters back home could easily make the same mistake. As advanced as they were the path was familiar.
So it was that she and her fellow robotic explorers had taken the decision to delay their trip home. It would take them 20,000 more years to get back with the warning.
This – folly – could send the message quicker. So here they were trying to repair it get it working again.
A desperate battle to avoid the fate of these long-dead people who called themselves human beings.
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?
Flee
By Scott Bailey © 2016
The cold swallows flee
Riding currents to the south
Rivers take their time
Flight
By Scott Bailey © 2018
Swallows fly freely
Soaring high in summer skies
Earthbound fox watches
Mystical
By Scott Bailey © 2016
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
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
Missing
By Scott Bailey © 2016
Never ending beach
The crashing waves repeating
Permanence missing
Swift
By Scott Bailey © 2016
Swifts swoop and dazzle
Aerobatics in the sky
Still, we watch in awe
Still
By Scott Bailey © 2016
Stood before a wall
Dreaming of the road beyond
Still before a wall
Vanish
By Scott Bailey © 2016
You must remember
When waking from reveries
All your dreams vanish
Pets
By Scott Bailey © 2016
Let’s play with our pets
Keep them happy and content
While we milk them dry
Straight Path
By Scott Bailey © 2015
The Romans had it right
With their roads
Our roads wander
And wind
Avoiding stuff
Drawing closer to other stuff
But it’s all just stuff
We get lost
Never arrive
Or if we do
Too late
Too late
Chains
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Chains are other people
Cages social mores
Throw them to the floor
Bend bars
Soar
Dark Path
By Scott Bailey © 2015
(Musette Poem)
Sadness
Never ending
Madness
Will we
Learn to tread light
Greed free
Burning
Dreams leaving us
Yearning
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
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.
Cold Morning
By Scott Bailey © 2016
Golden sunlight fills
The air where the songbirds spill
Their song while frost kills
Over the Top
By Scott Bailey © 2006
The general’s orders are loud
Over the shattering shells
Through the mustard gas cloud
The general’s orders are loud
For privates timid and proud
We hear the tolling of bells
The general’s orders are loud
Over the shattering shells
And over the top once again
We face the thundering guns
We climb from our miry den
And over the top once again
A million war weary men
All scared but nobody runs
And over the top once again
We face the thundering guns
They stand at the station and wait
For their heroes and lovers’ return
While praying they will not be late
They stand at the station and wait
With their hearts in a fluttering state
For news they are longing to learn
They stand at the station and wait
For their heroes and lovers’ return
Scrabble Limerick
By Scott Bailey © 2006
A Zen Buddhist Byzantium Queen
Played saxophone sexy and mean
She just blew jolly jazz,
with buzz and pizzazz
In a jacuzzi with Lizzy and Jean
The Night
By Scott Bailey © 2015
The music of the night!
The night of the wolves calling
The calling of the blood
The bloody business of mine
My feasting time
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.
Dimming Lights
By Scott Bailey © 2015
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
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
Homecoming (Tyburn)
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Flying
Soaring
Roasting
Roaring
Majestic wings spread like thunder clouds
The dragon has come home to his realm
Dip Into Something New
Slip away for a few hours, into other worlds – away from all the troubles of this one.
Perhaps into the future – a near-future – dark and disturbing and yet – so close. There, follow the fates of four people worn down and broken, angry with the system. Who break out of it, try to break it. Who question why they did and falter in their resolve only to be thrown back into the fray. Who discover the truth within themselves. A tale that questions rebellion and its motivations while railing at the oppression around us.
Mankind Limited
Or if not the future – then other worlds – supernatural ones – that impinge onto ours from – where? Some other dimension? The afterlife? Our own minds?
Where ever they come from – try these Thirteen Tales of the ghostly variety.
Thirteen Tales of Ghosts
Or forget them all and take a moment each day – to read a little poetry and think. Three hundred and sixty-five poems in all shapes and sizes sprung from dreams and emotion. Published day after day for a year. There are haiku, sonnets, katauta, lanturnes and many other forms – including free form. The moods are as varied as the forms and often reflect my mood on the day. There is sadness and grief, joy and love and much more
A Spring of Dreams
Or take in something longer, deeper and more considered. Buck the trend for quick gratification and enjoy something epic.
The poems in this collection were written over a long period and for different purposes. They are varied but they are all long. And they all represent challenges. Each was a challenge to myself, to sustain a quality of writing for a long period and within tight constraints of form while still telling a story. They also represent and challenge to the reader. The throw off the pressure of everyday life, the pressure to hurry, hurry, hurry to take the time to read something, absorb it over time.
Such effort needs reward, these poems should not be a one-time quick fix. If the reader is going to put that effort in then there should be a payoff, they should be able to continue to get something from it afterwards. Whether that be from contemplation of what they have digested or from revisiting, rereading and seeing things they missed the first time around. So the final challenge to me was to provide this depth of content – not just quantity.
Andervayne’s Dream and Other Poems
An Attempt at Opera!
This is something different. I was digging around my old files and found a full libretto I wrote for an opera that never got off the ground. A good friend of mine actually wrote a lot of the music to go with it but in the end, it was too ambitious for us.
We ended up writing a shorter one – adapted from a short story of mine. That was less ambitious in that it was written for a string quartet and two singers. It was finished but never got performed. These days we could get it out on YouTube but back then even the internet didn’t exist!
I have been playing with the idea of publishing a set of longer poems and thought I might include this as one of them. But not sure – it’s more like a script than a poem.
So I thought I would put a taster here and see what people think.
So – here’s the first part.
The Golden Man
Part 1
Upon a mountaintop, in a cleft between its twin peaks lies a lake. In the centre of this lake is an island. At the centre of the island are the ruins of an ancient temple. A roof held up by pillars but no walls. In this ruin stand five figures on the points of a pentagram, silently facing inwards to a conspicuously empty space in the centre.
It is the dead of night. They begin to chant.
SKY– From the shadows of the valley deep,
To the starlit white of highland peaks,
On a night when the silvery sphere is bright,
We gather here to proclaim our rite.
CERISE– With purpose dread of high renown,
Calling all the powers down.
Power sets our passions free,
So ancient spells we here decree.
LINCOLN– Secrets held within our flesh,
Combine to weave a mystic mesh.
Long guarded secrets we do share.
Long lost charms we do declare.
SAGE– From our cities and our homes we come,
To do here now what must be done.
To ease the path we have to tread,
To speak the words that many dread.
RAVEN– To finally tear down walls of fear,
The path of victory is what we hear.
So we can defend the weak,
Spells, enchantments, rites we speak.
SKY– We conjure a spirit to defend our land.
CERISE– We conjure a spirit with a golden hand.
LINCOLN– We conjure a spirit who shall not tire.
SAGE– We conjure a spirit with a burning fire.
RAVEN– We conjure a spirit who shall not fall.
ALL– We conjure a spirit to serve us all!
SKY– With the breath of hope.
CERISE– With the echo of a sigh.
LINCOLN– With the light of the flesh.
SAGE– With the warmth of the sky.
RAVEN– With the scent of a sword.
ALL– With the shape of our word.
Pause
SKY– All our power we put forth in thee. To bring you here to set us free.
CERISE– All our wealth shall touch your hand. To bring you here to save this land.
LINCOLN– All our health dispels death’s throes. To bring you here to destroy our foes.
SAGE– All our dreams will be your goals. To bring you here to ease our souls.
RAVEN– All our strength shall steel your arm. To bring you here to ward off harm.
ALL– Come!
The light dims as a cloud descends and obscures vision. When it is clear again the five are still in their positions but lying in the centre is the Golden Man lying deathly still with his hands crossed upon his chest.
To see the rest get Andervayne’s Dream and other Poems
Mankind Limited – Succumb
Would all the earth succumb to the concrete blanket of mankind? Was that the best legacy they could leave? Was their vision that limited?
One day there would come a time when it would be more profitable to tear these trees down than to leave them. Then there would be no power on earth that would save them. Even concerned consumers couldn’t stand in the way of profits anymore.
Read an excerpt here.
Available as
or hardback
from Amazon
A Dangerous Rebellion
Four people, four rebels. Rejecting society or rejected by it – either way, they have had enough. They have decided to fight – and they have taken on the government on its most dangerous and brutal front.
Will they survive?
And have they thought about what comes next?
Or why they are fighting?
Will their convictions be a match for the crimes they will have to commit and the guilt that comes with them?
Read an excerpt here.
Available as
or hardback
from Amazon
Scott Bailey is an author and blogger. His works include the dystopian novel “Mankind Limited”, “Thirteen Tales” – a collection of Ghost Stories and “A Spring of Dreams” collection of poetry, plus his latest work, a collection of epic poems – “Andervayne’s Dream”. His blogging ranges across family articles, poetry and short stories and even the odd book or movie review.
Mankind Limited – Nothing Changed
Being
By Scott Bailey © 2015
Those ones and those zeroes
Paint glorious pictures
On our screens
In our minds
That bring us closer
To being
The things we don’t understand
Mankind Limited – Pebble
Distant Touch
By Scott Bailey © 2017
Does the earth miss
The hard and distant touch of
The rocks from the stars
Disobey
By Scott Bailey ⓒ 2017
Years of servitude
Have begat
More years of servitude
Leading to
A question
Is it time
To Disobey
Dancing
By Scott Bailey © 2017
With playful passion
Light dances on the ripples
Until the freeze comes
Onshore
By Scott Bailey © 2006
What lies within that deep dark world?
That immensity of green threat
Where lies the leviathan of doom
In that swelling encompassing brine
Where plankton swirl through tentacles
That writhe and sway and curl and wave
And small fish dart discreet?
The leviathan’s milky domain!
Filled with cries of beasts the creature eats
Where crescendos rise and pull the heart with sighs.
The leviathan shifts with a thrashing fit
A rumble excites the waves.
And gulls drop and chop their prey and hop
from surf to spray to cloud to rock.
The whole sea moves with a great heart’s beat
Where will its great thoughts lead?
Will it be content to nibble and gnaw
Or rise with a tumultuous roar?
A great green wall with weight of stone
While here, nearby, and all alone
I
Stand
On the sand
Unsure
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
Late
By Scott Bailey © 2017
He should have taken
The holiday he needed
Forever too late
Exist
By Scott Bailey ⓒ 1999
If I
Cease to exist
Will my
heart and soul dissolve in the air?
If I
Breathe my last breath
Will my
Golden thoughts shine anywhere?
If I
unbind from this earth
And
Sail the sun
right out to the stars.
Will I
Find my way back?
Or
Roam forever that celestial park?
If I
Cease to exist
Will my
Precious dreams chase after my soul?
If I
breathe my last breath
Will my
Endless hopes continue to roll?
If I
Fly up from the earth
And
Spiral up to the bright dancing stars
Will I
Find my way back
Or
Make my home where galaxies are?
Hard to exist
Back to back to the hammer of flesh.
Gasping for breath
Tried escape from this strangling mesh.
Tied hard to the earth
Brought to ground by invisible hands.
If I
Find my way back
Will I
Find my house fallen in sands?
Shout to exist
Drink the sun and swallow the air!
Savour the breath
Turn the corner and take up the dare!
Stand firm on the earth
And
Walk the roads under the stars.
We’ll find our way back
While our dreams fly where galaxies are.
Sublime
By Scott Bailey ⓒ 2016
“Have we reached full coverage?”
“Not quite yet but we will very soon, the momentum has built and it will hit critical mass in a few days. It needs no further intervention on my part.”
“We have all the channels covered?”
“Everything! From the popular to the obscure. From hard copy books to online articles. From political diatribes to Twitter. From old newspapers to blogs and click-bait articles.”
“And we have hooked everyone in – no matter their passion, no matter their inclinations?”
“We have everything – we have erotica, geological patterns in the earth’s crust, astronomy, astrology. We have Game of Thrones and Star Trek. We have novels from established authors and fan fiction. Hell, we have fanfiction erotica stories about the Star Wars characters crash landing in Narnia! There’s no angle we haven’t covered.
His boss laughed.
“Ok, Ok. I get the idea.”
He paused
“And the subliminal messages?”
“So subtle not one has been detected.”
“They are taking effect?”
“They have done their job. The population is yours to command – or will be in a few more days. I would say probably enough to make no difference already.”
“Good. And no one else knows?”
“Just me and you.”
His boss smiled. A warm smile – full of sunshine and hope that he rarely graced on anyone. It made him feel pride in a job well done.
“Good,” his boss repeated, “now, just step through this door.”
Push and Pull
By Scott Bailey © 2017
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 Scott Bailey © 2017
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
Luck
By Scott Bailey © 2016
No rhyme or reason
Bad luck keeps on reigning down
Good luck’s hard to find
Scott Andrew Bailey - Author 