CORRIDORS LOST

We left the cries to find the heart,
And headed north to pillars new:
Then found the place we hoped would be,
But never thought, could never see.

We rang the bell and crawled inside
To lovers high on nightly gin,
Of skies and breathing honey beds
In snow of old, yet newly fed.

The turkish camel coat addressed
As if to speak, or clear its throat,
And love returned in dripping burns
As stifled memories to learn.

Night shining over wandʼring eyes
As clever owls fought natureʼs minds –
Yet silent, fearing grassy tombs
Of clouds coersed by butter-wombs.

Together praying into webs
Of mothball eggs on pillow heads,
We cried aloud to desert ears
In barking cracked and willow tears:

Please let us leap into that mound,
And be devoured by deathʼs delights,
By Natureʼs past, where love the song
As manʼs dry fear, in graves belong.

The beacon, as a lover, turned to dust,
Yet spoke in language without sound
To say, you may return to love or lust,
But never to your wishes – all was still.

 

February 1977 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1977-2011

A DREAM

I see the light, I feel the fire,
Piously burning as the souls of tired
Adventurers search for the valleyʼs heaven –
Mystical, avenging, uneventful mode,
Still fearing callousness of heart yet
Hoping then, as now, but even fonder
For the tireless stream of memories to come.

I cry for time, I know the signs,
Hindering all mortal, meaningless thought,
All frigid dying sanctities of mind;
For those who overthrow shall be divine,
But not as this, for now they are dry
As dusty bread, and shall remain only
To feed the soberly judged, the captive soul.

I wish to rise, in death of mind,
To be the hinge on the prophetʼs door,
And as such to ponder on the wise
And smile, as a child, at the blind.
Clarity in death of fostered fears,
Flowing like a hundred intermingled loves,
As one, free for life, in beautyʼs web.

 

October 1976 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1976-2011

WITH THE TIDE

Have you felt that youʼve won, ʻthough youʼre going to die;
Have you seen all the joys and the tears and the sighs;
Have you known of the heartbreak, the winning, the prize
Which helps you to lose, when the next time you try?

Will your mind ever wander to eternal flames;
Will your heart systematically know whoʼs to blame;
Will your feet ever find the way back in the rain,
Or is walking the easy way out of it….

Did the Christ someone knew really save him from hell,
And has anyone told all the stories to tell;
Is our life just for living, or dying as well,
And does anyone know all the answers?

Donʼt ever pretend that youʼre not still a child,
Donʼt ever divulge all your secrets, run wild;
Donʼt ever enjoy what you feel you beguile –
Stay close to the mind youʼre forgetting.

 

September 1976 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1976-2011

MORNING

So peaceful, warm, or coolly chilled, One sees the light and feels fulfilled; And yet some cry in pain of heart, For they see mem’ries, cold and dark. There are some, loving children’s cries, And see the peace in wild eyes, And there are those who fear the light, While still they feel the stench of night. To those who smile we say ‘sleep well’, And keep your perfumed tales to tell; To those who wish we all would die, We wish to ask you when, and why? To those who see the better land, We tell you, take your plough in hand And sow the seeds of knowledge now, So you may take the world in tow.   September 1976 (as amended) © Michael G Reid 1976-2011

AWAKENING

Young folly breathes a treacherous path,
When zest for life, in youth, is felt so old
By those incensed, yet still in childhood’s wrath –
A bitter remedy for love, so cold.

 

September 1976 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1976-2011