power

Reaching for Heaven

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

when people talk of desire
they speak of fire and heat
but a fire can be extinguished,
in itself it’s not complete

desire is the beginning
the waking of stronger powers
that sweeps you off your feet
and put a stop to time

only when you are mine
that power comes with a passion
far beyond ourselves
it pushes, it tears, it’s agony,
it’s joy, it’s free, it’s sweet,
it’s the urgent demand of life

when the wind comes down from heaven
and whirls true lovers up,
groaning and gasping,
flying,
upward,
through the longing stars,
they cling with desperation
there’s another dimension
to the grip of their grasping arms
until they fall together,
soft to their tumbled bed

you touch my beating heart
we can talk
or fall asleep
we know we are one whole part
i feel such tenderness
it’s then i can stroke your lovely skin
and cradle your gentle head

excite me, ignite me,
never needs to be said
the fire of desire will return
we’ll go to heaven again
by a slower, gentler path

Proverbs

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

I wouldn’t dare judge a book by it’s cover.
I might miss the silver lining, hovering there.
There is many a slip twixt the cup and the lip
and a worm can always turn.

Cut your coat to suit your cloth.
There are still more bridges to cross.
The age of miracles is past
but the exception may still prove the rule.

Speaking of rules, there is one rule
for the rich and one for the poor.
Power corrupts. Here is the wish I would grant;
May their bread fall buttered side down.

In this world of Chinese whispers,
distorted facts and appealing fictions,
all pearls roll before swine.
It will unravel in time.

If we listen with care
we may hear a whisper that’s pure.
April showers are plentiful
but they bring forth the flowers of May.

Children and fools tell the truth
and let’s hope the truth will out.
We live to be loved, and to love, again, on another day.
Blue are the hills that are far away.

The Choice is Pyramids or Circles

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

the pyramids of greed and power
became our masters long ago
they took the land away from us
and fenced the common pastures
while we were tired and sleeping

are we sleeping still?
we walk on ice above the fires
we hover on a precipice
bind-folded by the wrong desires
our better hopes defeated

how did we come to this?
the storm brings rain to fill the rivers
we complain of changing weathers
we take for granted natures gifts
making wanton use of treasures

every creature great and small
brings blessings to the earth
while we destroy and poison all
how can we be so foolish?
we are earth’s most useless creatures

we will come to understand, too late,
the damage we have done ourselves
in breaking natures circle
we will recognise our awful fate
when we reap the final harvest

join the circle, strong, complete
to guard and bless the garden
there is no greater purpose
the only promised land we have
is here beneath our feet

Be Kind

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

 

I look at this world. It brings me to tears.

No changes, no choices, no power, no voice.

Our fears come true instead of our dreams.

Our words echo, reverberate, into a void.

 

I have a dream, just like that man,

the one they killed for speaking the truth.

I have a dream just like the one

that lead to a man being hung on a cross.

 

I wish the world was more like our dreams.

People could base all their actions on love.

I wish we could be all that we want.

I wish I could be all that I need.

 

I have nothing to offer, words don’t cast a spell.

Be kind to each other, remember this well.

 

 

Storytellers (a pantoum)

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

when the power went out we were ready
the oil lamps were already filled
the white candles stood in their holders
all was comfort and warmth

the oil lamps were always filled
we gathered more brushwood and bracken
all was comfort and warmth
we kindled the fire, made it crackle

we gathered more brushwood and bracken
piling on driftwood and logs
we kindled the fire, make it crackle
the flames rose high as they burned

piling on logs and driftwood
we sat near the fire as it blazed
the flames rose high as they burned
we sat by the fire, telling each other tales

we sat near the fire as it blazed
while the wind rattled the roof tiles
we sat by the fire, telling each other tales
life went on unchanged

while the wind rattled the roof tiles
the bread was steadily rising
life went on unchanged
until the power came back

the bread was steadily rising
we flicked a switch on the radio
when the power came back
the world stepped into the house

we flicked a switch on the radio
bringing nothing of value to us
the world stepped into the house
the house grew instantly colder

bringing nothing of value to us
now all would be darkness and shadows
the house would grow instantly colder
there is no source of heat these days

now all would be darkness and shadows
I miss the wood smoke and firelight
there is no source of heat these days
I miss the stories we told

 

 

(this is a re-write of an earlier poem I posted – called Without Power – I rewrote it as a Pantoum to see if the form improved it – I think it has)
 

 

 

Words

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

‘Sticks and stones may break my bones

but words will never hurt me.’

Ha! who arrived at that

pat down potted wisdom

shrugging off truth

with an easy phrase and a lie

 

Words are life savers and killers,

blessing givers, tormentors, thieves

they can make you grovel

they can make you free

they can make you feel loved,

wanted and cared for, or

disgraced, misplaced, dispossessed

 

words are power

words are spells

one misplaced word

side-tracks, sharp edges, confusions

all is lost and undone

 

don’t ask me to speak with words

let me show you, not tell you

give me the language of eyes and skin

my hand in your hair, the quiet night air,

the bird song, the breeze, the river

my arm under your head,

your breathe in my ear,

tangled limbs,

these are the words of love