Sunday, March 8, 2020

Acidic Breeze

Acidic Breeze,

I feel the breeze blow over me,
I speak not of wind,
Not the wind as we have known it,
In the Winter,
In the Storm.

I feel now the breeze of time,
I speak of its etching passions, 
Of ever changing of motion,
in Directions,
Untold,

It blows me across the plain,
from young boy to sapling tree,
surely, 
soon to glowing ember,
I hear it speak of blowing out the wick.

And then,
dispersing my memory,
unrelenting, 
into space itself.



Thomas Poe
December 30th 2019


another wave washed over me
fully I feel 
foam and blue and wonder
Time cant see itself, else it might stop a moment and consider 

what lies behind and what lies ahead.




How to Be

How to be gently,
How to sing Softly,
How to whisper a word,
that fills in blank   ,
of another souls life?

Brash & loud & Orange,
I love,
Greens & Blues & Yellows,
Dancing to steel drums,
with all the energy of a teen.

These two live together,
spin, spinning around an axis.

He is with me - right now,
How each day & minute & hour,
Walk with this delight,
He chose me.
So I can

Gently, softly, whisper a word
that hopes to fill hope,
in another soul's life.


Etches
The White House
Jan 19th 2020




Reality

Reality

We know what reality is! 
but as we dance,
down the roads of hopes,
to creativity,
to answer life's phone call,
there is, there becomes, there arrives, 
a shimmering blur of silvered light,
the dawn 
the gestalt-ed moment
o my loved ones 
we can pretend our life away
reality in fact a play

[trying to describe the behaviour that wallpaper over the reality of our creativity]

how to describe the roles we know
‘there is nothing new here’
but we can invite words, words that illuminate a ballroom dance
and wake the sleepwalker 
even for a moment


12/11/19
Thomas Poe
TWH

Version b - I blanche as it almost sounds like advice, whereas I want the 'reader' to see (hear) the light on their own, to ascend perhaps, to truly stop the merry go round and understand the truth of our situation, terminal singular chance, to speak into being as Aslan once did , call me fashioned but I believe in truth, in colours bright and of children’s laughter - as pure as the first waters of the first spring,

gestalt; “a configuration or pattern of elements so unified as a whole that it cannot  be described merely as a sum of its parts.”


Tuesday, March 3, 2020

Acknowledge

the sadness is,
built in.
locked away, perhaps but,
soaked through,
permeated permanently into,
my being.

the Lion King might shout,
‘He lives in me’,
look see that sparky frosted shaft of light,
Is true,
I now acknowledge.

still there is a path,
I walk alone, His words of wisdom,
absent
His strength and fierceness 
epicure’s of the mist

[grasping this reality & walk on]

father reach down and take my arm
let us walk together
this journey to complete 
He who knows the way

March 3rd 2020
Etches Penmen
The White House




I am not alone, I am not alone
He will go before me
I am not alone, I am not alone
He will go before me 
He will never leave me
(Kari Jobe)



Monday, February 10, 2020

Ambitious Hopes

Ambitious Hopes


If I had a blank page (ooops)
what would I write?
what thought can’t I disclose
that would get-up
another’s nose?

what rainbow of my heart 
(would I Place here)
(begin again)

a quote from Solomon?
of Plato or Socrates?
or perhaps some pointed barb,
in modern garb? (tweet tweet) 
so to elevate my self esteem?

All I ask , a tall order it is,
that some of these words,
writ in black, 
throw down a,
light for others track.

(ambitious hope of an older sapien)



T Poe and Etches 
11th Feb 2019

Add caption
gentled illuminating us all



Friday, January 24, 2020

Approach-es



breathe, breathe deep,
pause the walking way,
and lookup,
lookout on all.

how shall we approach, 
the father (in prayer)?
how shall we lay aside? 
structure and the murder of in-learned belief?
the gang of rules?
how shall we come without agenda?
without menu?
without the dictionary of desire?

approach in trust,
step, 
step for a moment outside of this broken world,
step into mystery.

I pray,
silence me, silence me, silence me,
let us listen with the stars themselves,
let's listen with the ocean wave,
watch with the mountains,
for ,
the breath, the presence of ,
the one who loves ,
the one who called,
the one who chose,
now

close to you



Thomas Poe
24/01/2020
before the pestilence descended  :-0
Oxford 


Friday, October 25, 2019

Lament



how long

before?

people see,

people adore,

and return 

to you?


[embrace]


how harsh 

a winter

to realise 

and release

fragility.

reliance.

control.


power

is no longer, 

perhaps it never was,

in 

human 

hands.


[awakened]


oh let us

together,

lament,

we did not

praise you

when

all 

was

joy




Etches Penmen

The White House

Oxford

25/10/2019




Hi Poetry People We have moved the blog to a new location, to overcome some limitations of Blogger. www.poeandpenmen.blog Thanks Etienne.