Sunday, March 15, 2015

Answered Prayers


Answered Prayers

Unheard voices bring the night, our hopes return the day,
beings struggle for the light, in prayers we often say,

“Hear me oh most gracious one, I lift my heart to you,
I need you in these times of woe, a sign to guide me through.”

Empathy whispers, aglow within, candle flickers in the dark,
Prayers are thrust from the rain, while lost here on earth’s ark.

Close your eyes and listen, replies appear in your sight,
truth comes with your answer, connections made by light.

Darkness wanes, the oceans true, the skies return their song,
No longer lost, your path in view, new sense that you belong.


Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Waiting for You



Waiting for You

He stood there at the station, broad smile from ears to chin,
hopes and dreams weaving thoughts, his future about to begin.

Foreign lands play on his mind, a new beginning for both of them,
his hearts desire would meet him here, train leaves at 8:00 pm.

Watch pulled from vest pocket, time was running late,
all he owned was sent abroad, packed in wooden crates.

Anxious moments gather, at engine steams release,
for absent is his angel who calms his soul in peace.

Silence hushed the murmuring crowd, stirring at the station,
intent he listens for his name, in waiting anticipation.

The terminal fills with silhouettes, dancing in the rain,
moving in slow motion, as they board the west bound train.

A misty fog descends, building evening’s tense commotion,
illuminated by teary eyes, passengers filled with emotion.

Cargo racks packed on board, tea vendors busy in the chill,
life goes on in silence, from puddle reflections standing still.

Shadows move in greyish hues, its dark in mid November,
he waits for her in solemnness, hoping that she’ll remember.

Adventure rides the train at eight, not alone his understanding,
looking for her at departures gate, and on the boarders landing.

Conductor calls “all aboard”, engines smoke fills the dusk,
and there she stood in the rain, red coat, Corset and busk. 


Sunday, March 1, 2015

Penumbra’s Gate


Penumbra’s Gate

Portals to infinity, quite often unseen by most,
when catching eyes looking down, reveal reflected ghosts.
Thoughts retreat from shadows, anxious moments wait,
for there in pools on cobble stone, the frame of Penumbra’s Gate.

Beacons call attention, urging minds to bend and enter,
hypnotic waves of darkness, keeping victims off center.
Legs give way, the body down, no power to get up and rise,
Wraiths move in to trap your soul, under nightmare skies.

The will to break comes swiftly, suddenly you’re on your feet,
confidence builds as armour, on evenings cobbled streets.
Twilight surrounds ecliptic, the puddles dry and fade,
unknowing which is up or down, you hear laughter in the shade.


The Demon John McCain



The Demon John McCain

Behold the one in power, behold the one foretold,
know him by his actions, and the soul that he has sold.
illusions of god like powers, decorated in blood,
death plagues and destruction, arriving in his flood.

He delights in money laundered, owned by Patrician creeds
he lays siege on humanity, and tramples on peoples needs.
he praises terror minions and delights in others pain,
the evil that commands it all is none other than John McCain.

Terror legions unleashed, bloodthirsty to the bone,
they wait for their commandments, McCain is sure to phone
“Thou shalt kill thy neighbour, do plunder and terror things”
these are just a few words that John McCain sings.

“Heil hail, the world is falling down,
grinding people to the ground.
greed, corruption, famine, and frowns,
there’s death and destruction all around.”

McCainish demons surface, with weapons from evil dens
sacrificing the lives of innocent women, children, and men.
revoke his power I say, and those that he’s defended,
John McCain the traitor, must be apprehended.

I take no pity on monsters, all should be de-fanged,
but if mankind’s to survive, John McCain must be hanged.
-----------

Background:


John McCain backs the fascists in Ukraine that seized power in a bloody coup that led to the ethnic cleansing of Russian speaking Ukrainians in western Ukraine and led to the countries civil war. Even though a peace treaty has been signed between the two sides in the Ukrainian civil war, John McCain pushes to continue the confrontation by supporting additional US Military weapons to arm the fascists against the eastern part of the country. McCain also calls for direct confrontation with Russia and is pictured above with one of Ukraine’s Neo-Nazi Fascist leaders “Oleh Tyahnybok”.

John McCain also backs the FSA/Al-Queda/ISIS/IS foreign terrorists employed to destroy Syria and their multi cultural communities. McCain’s direct oversight in this terrorist operation has led to the deaths of hundreds of thousands of Syrians while also displacing more than 5 million. He is pictured above with some of his terrorists friends. 

He also backs the ethnic cleansing of Palestine while pledging his total allegiance to the state terrorist governments in Israel (past and present). 

Those at home in the USA, that oppose his sociopathic and insane actions are branded enemies. His direct involvement has led to a US fascist police state where freedom of the press and honest journalism has become a thing of the past.

Not only is he a traitor to the people of the USA but to all of humanity. He is an out of control insane monster who is directly responsible (along with a congressional and executive office gang of US war mongers) for the deaths of millions of people throughout the Middle East, Eastern Europe and Africa…he needs to be stopped and thrown in prison by people of the USA for his crimes…and he’s not the only one that needs to be put in prison either! Nuremberg comes to mind when thinking about the principals we are supposed to be upholding but then it's all fixed now isn't it. Should the war criminals from the Nuremberg trials have been hung? And if so then what is stopping humanity from dealing with US war criminals like McCain, Obama, Bush & Cheney in the same fashion? Then again, the system is rigged isn't it?

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Inspiring Moments 03


Inspiring Moments

Inspiring moments, sending grace,
lifting spirits and warming face.
Connection made, to make you whole,
rays of light to fill your soul.




Saturday, February 21, 2015

Valley Bridge at Twilight



Valley Bridge at Twilight

Fishing under Valley Bridge, where I’ll take my son today,
beneath old wooden structure, in shadows our rods will prey.

The dirt road down the canyon, was steep and full of turns,
but that didn’t stop our excitement, or burden thoughts of return.

Our ancient village wonder, monolithic bridge with sturdy frame,
wide arches on either end of it, and Roman middle was its claim.

The aqueduct of Segovia, its brilliance before us stood,
with seventy-two small arches, double stacked and made of wood.

The early morning sun, was just rising over the valley,
it gave the bridge its shadow, with glowing light ray finale.

Whistle sounds a-distant, eerie wind to raise my attention,
turning to my boy, “there’s a story I neglected to mention”.

We sat down near the river, to watch the oncoming train,
our bridge just in the distance, the wood already a strain.

I began to tell the tale, that my father told me before,
passed down to each generation, since our family owned the store.

It began with bridge construction, when horse and buggy ruled the day,
the railroad was being connected, to all the townships without delay.

The owners were in a hurry, seems progress wouldn’t be stopped,
the bridge was to be completed, so they worked around the clock.

The massive engine arrived early, its size did widen eyes,
packed in the cars that followed, a large bank vault, and town supplies.

The railway owner emerged livid, out from his special caboose,
“What’s the delay now conductor?” he moaned like a bullish moose.

“The bridge is not completed, we’ll have to wait a little while”,
spit the tobacco subordinate, to the boss man filled with guile.

“This train’s to move by sundown, it’s all the time you’ve got”,
the heritor slammed his door shut, horses spooked by anger wrought.

The bridge crew were almost finished, when sun set that afternoon,
but the iron track wasn’t ready, as the train left way too soon.

The town gathered at the station, waving flags and cheering on,
then in a jolting instant, the train pulled out and was gone.

The valley drop gave accelerated speed, the workers never saw it coming,
when brakes engaged like screeching nails, the thunder heard was numbing. 

A year had passed in village mourning, bridge completed months before,
seventy two people had died that evening, more than in the great war.

Your great grand dad was there that day, just opened the family store,
he’d saved his money from work camps, and laboured with sledge no more.

It is said that when the sun sets, and angel rays touch the bridge,
you can see their silhouette's and shadows, just there above the ridge.



Thursday, February 19, 2015

Forest of Dreams and Consciousness



Forest of Dreams and Consciousness

In forests of dreams and consciousness, the universe does unfold,
along the stairway of knowledge, where stories of truth are told.

Each level a grand finally, each step a secret place,
The road to your awakening, is waiting for your embrace.

It begins with Psilocybin, Entheogen portals and flowers,
Expanding mind and consciousness, deciphering all your powers.

The mind does gently open, your awareness exponential,
woodlands of incitement, to lift your true potential.

Beacons of light await you, sentinels for each stride,
do not be afraid of them, they’re there to be your guide.

Here in the world of wonders, energy unfolds for you,
a universe filled with consciousness, in forests to go through.



Friday, February 13, 2015

Angels Watch Over You



Angels Watch Over You

When you’re feeling low, out of sorts, and a little daunted,
When burdens fill your mind, with thoughts unwanted.
Just remember the day we met, the day I came to you,
Atop the mountain summit, where skies were in a hue.

You asked God in that moment, if you were following his task,
“please show me the face of an angel, a little proof, is all I ask.”
Remember how lost, alone, and disconnected you were feeling,
and then the sudden changes within, that began your healing.

A gust of wind shaped the clouds, sent them in your direction,
Empathic thrusts flowing through, we made our brief connection.
Moments of eternity, embraced, with peace upon your soul,
Reassuring guidance, to help fulfill, your earthly role.

Always look inward, to your heart, and inner being,
It’s radiant light, never changes, its communion always freeing.
In answer to your prayer, we will always come to you,
to reassure and strengthen, your foundations built anew.

Now you know for certain, everything happens for a reason,
Remember well, that proof is found, in the changing seasons.
Time goes on, as you connect inside, and meet so many others,
Embrace all beings empathically, treat them as sisters and brothers.

Life is short in earthly worlds, but the spirit goes on through,
Keep your fire burning, and remember, Angels watch over you.
----------------------------------

A moment of truth told through a poem. The experience happened to me in 2007 during my spiritual awakening. The photo is a reminder of that day and serves as my personal testament.

Sunday, February 8, 2015

Midnight Dreams



Midnight Dreams

The tree swing moved in silence, with graceful thrusts in air,
Victorian gown was swaying, on the young lady sitting there.

The summer night was dreamy, with the moon hidden by clouds,
Shimmering on the forest lake, were reflections of satin shrouds.

The air was filled with lyric, in earthly poetic psalm,
an atmosphere inviting, tranquil, serene and calm.

There at the edge of the timber, shadows passed into the light,
moving towards the shaman queen, this solstice evening night.

Gathered on a gentle breeze, empathy touched their spirit,
impressions from a conscious mind, assuring not to fear it.

Tonight begins the healing, by a mothers prayer in song,
impassioned melody of guidance, and call to do no wrong.

Her voice was very gentle, carried on heartbeats breath,
with chakra modulations, so subtle and full of depth.

Light of thought in brilliance, before my eyes in sleep,
a vision of twilight's awakening, and gift for me to keep.


Saturday, February 7, 2015

Our Little Miracle



Our Little Miracle

Spring arrived early that year, in our little village of Rome,
as migration came much sooner, and livened up our home,
Life worked out a miracle, after the doctors we did phone,
and our family tree grew bigger, the couple no longer alone.

Just out back in our garden, where the family oak tree stood,
was a wicker basket carriage, with a white frilly hood.
There inside smiling, was our pride, and next generation,
our newborn baby girl, who would inherit our plantation.

My wife and I stood there, our arms around each other,
Smiling at our little one, who looked just like her mother.
If only dad were still with us, your mum, and father too,
We could take a family picture, when the flowers were in bloom.

The morning mist was lifting, as the birds were in full song,
they gathered in the trees above as more birds joined along.
Then landing on the carriage sides, two sparrows began to play,
their chirping brought more laughter, and chased the morning grey.

The clouds dissolved and parted, as the sun shone down its rays,
and there above the carriage, was a glow that seemed to stay.
Our little girl was looking up, something made her smile,
as if someone were standing there, talking to her a while.

I grabbed my little camera, took a picture of the beautiful sight,
I swear we saw three figures, winged, and filled with light.
And just as quick they vanished, as the clouds returned the shade,
But deep inside, my wife and I, knew who came that day.





Thursday, February 5, 2015

Valleys


Valleys

The last sun of summer, descends uneasy skies,
melting into the mountain valley and beyond,
leaving a crimson nebulous shroud and promise of return.

Warm breeze washes over me, embracing my soul,
swirling within, engaging old reflections,
I can’t help but recall friends and family no longer here.

Faded smiles from the past come to life,
to fill my thoughts with happiness and melancholy,
playing silently like old black and white films,
guarded within the castles of my mind,
where these treasured memories are still alive,
bathed in empathy and protected where time never ends.

Autumn has arrived, and in brilliant colour,
trees rain their creative souls upon the ground,
A mosaic of splendour and abundance,
freely given as an offering to the ground below,
benediction and thanks for granting substance and life,
but leaving its soul exposed to the elements.

A dusting of thoughts engage magnificence
where conscious smiles forever shining, gaze.
We once painted infinity with laughter and song,
a montage of energy in the celebration of being,
heard and recorded by time and moments made,
to play here, in the valleys of radiant memory.

The sun now falls and sets on autumn skies,
winter arrives, cold with life’s sacrifice,
when tree’s nod off to sleep on seasons ending,
natures guardians stand firm and strong to the elements,
defiant, proud and upright with deep roots to life,
they vow to reawaken with springs rebirth.

I nod my agreement with noble promise well made,
and leave my covenant with memories rejuvenated,
to return back to times before, gladly affirmed,
when the last sun goes down, in the winter’s eve of my life.
We will again meet, in those castle moments,
to repaint valley skies with our spirit and essence, together once again.

-------------------------- 

This Poem was inspired by a very moving composition by artist and composer John Sokoloff called “Valleys”

John Sokoloff – Official Website
John Sokoloff - YouTube
John Sokoloff  - World United Music
http://worldunitedmusic.blogspot.com/2010/06/john-sokoloff.html


Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Estuary of Life


Estuary of Life

Mist swells in perfect reflection on estuary's mirror,
held in place by the chill of the air.

Dawn peaks on the horizon,
its rays held back by rising fog.
Thrilled sounds of the geese are heard making ready,
as they offer their prayers to god above.
Echoes from the forest join their hymn,
as all make ready to greet a nebulous morning sky.

Excitement builds to hushed thunder,
by the beat of ten thousand wings,
in reply to the silence,
and a new song lifts into the air.

Hearts racing, beating faster in joy and jubilation,
they carry my spirit in tow,
raising me up with them in celebration of life,
a oneness with the universe,

and the river of life goes ever on.

------------------

Music brings image and emotion together in ones mind and as I reflect on the brilliant piece of music by Dirk Maasson “The River” I’m reminded of the Estuary of Life and the magic nature holds.


Dirk Maassen - River

Dirk Maassen – Official Website
BUY MUSIC
Dirk Maassen - Bandcamp
https://dirkmaassen.bandcamp.com/

Poetry & Prose

Art & Expressions of SF Brennan

Folk & Acoustic Music 2000 To 2015

World United Music - Progressive Rock

World United Productions

Great music not found anywhere else! – The Minstral Show