From time to time a poem

I was on the dark side of the moon

There was no light for me
nothing to hold on too
nothing for me to hope
I did not feel lonely
I did not feel blind
I never felt abandoned

My eyes were not filled
with growing selfpity
Fought many battles
on my ow strenght untill
someone tried to poke
my eyes out

I was on the dark side of the moon

there was no light for me
But seeing deep into my soul
I saw a flikker of hope
growing

The hand that tried to damage me
got cut of by a greater Force
a Force of Love i never imagined
A love given to us all to use
to help others , to be there

I am there for u , here
on the dark side of the moon
He is there for u ..forever and
ever and ever

He loves u more than words
i only have words

Marta Lina

There once was a man from peru

Who dreamt he was eating his shoe.

He awoke with a fright, in the middle of the night

To find that his dream had come true.

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In the shuffling madness
Of the locomotive breath,
Runs the all, time loser,
Headlong to his death.

He feels the piston scraping
Steam breaking on his brow
Old Charlie stole the handle and
The train it won't stop going
No way to slow down.

- Jethro Tull

For the Thin Line of Gray

I have enshrined the future but have not
forgotten my past
My way is clear and the waiting begun
I walk softly
I tread the dimly lit ways in the quiet places
Yet I roar with passion when challenged
My guard is strong, my will and wits keenly focused
For I watch the waters and defend those I love
The time is here
Quietly I begin to walk
On the edge of gray tides and moonlit shores
Here I walk like the rolls of thunder
and move with the swiftness of the kite
My ego I seek to leave behind in that
Never forgotten past
Of which I still dream but never again
Shall seek

For you Alex

Lemons are yellow,
Life is too short to be sad,
Make sure you're not mellow.

Shared this one with my other half for Valentines Day:

So many days, oh so many days
seeing you so tangible and so close,
how do I pay, with what do I pay?

The bloodthirsty spring
has awakened in the woods.
The foxes start from their earths,
the serpents drink the dew,
and I go with you in the leaves
between the pines and the silence,
asking myself how and when
I will have to pay for my luck.

Of everything I have seen,
it's you I want to go on seeing:
of everything I've touched,
it's your flesh I want to go on touching.
I love your orange laughter.
I am moved by the sight of you sleeping.

What am I to do, love, loved one?
I don't know how others love
or how people loved in the past.
I live, watching you, loving you.
Being in love is my nature.

You please me more each afternoon.

Where is she? I keep on asking
if your eyes disappear.
How long she's taking! I think, and I'm hurt.
I feel poor, foolish and sad,
and you arrive and you are lightning
glancing off the peach trees.

That's why I love you and yet not why.
There are so many reasons, and yet so few,
for love has to be so,
involving and general,
particular and terrifying,
joyful and grieving,
flowering like the stars,
and measureless as a kiss.

Pablo Neruda

Not really a poem.. just more dreams from my head.

The place beyond the windows is dark and cold, lights shine in the distance.. twinkling stars that blend into the constellations of the sky. The tower of this cathedral is dark also, the room behind once saw ritual.. candle, prayer and whispered desire.. but it is now silent, an impression faintly hiding in memory. He stands beside me, part of the darkness and of me, whispering those old incantations back to me.. He knows the name of my soul and says it suddenly out loud, breaking the stillness… lighting a candle resting on the sill, “this light is yours, don’t let it go out.”

An angel unexpected

Your smile takes my breath away,
your eyes make me wonder
About decisions past and future
an angel long longed for stepped
into a life much tormented in time.
Its never too late to build a new bridge
To mend pain left in hearts
To love the unloved
To heal the unhealed
To want the unwanted
To sing the unsung words
Play restless cords
On a rainy , sunny day
Rainbows live in hearts forever

An angel unexpected

If Ever You Go To Dublin Town

By Patrick Kavanagh

If you ever go to Dublin town
In a hundred years or so
Inquire for me in Baggot street
And what I was like to know
O he was the queer one
Fol dol the di do
He was a queer one
I tell you.


My great-grandmother knew him well,
He asked her to come and call
On him in his flat and she giggled at the thought
Of a young girl's lovely fall.
O he was dangerous,
Fol dol the di do,
He was dangerous,
I tell you.

On Pembroke Road look out for my ghost,
Dishevelled with shoes untied,
Playing through the railings with little children
Whose children have long since died.
O he was a nice man,
Fol do the di do,
He was a nice man
I tell you.

Go into a pub and listen well
If my voice still echoes there,
Ask the men what their grandsires thought
And tell them to answer fair,
O he was eccentric,
Fol do the di do,
He was eccentric
I tell you.

He had the knack of making men feel
As small as they really were
Which meant as great as God had made them
But as males they disliked his air.
O he was a proud one,
Fol do the di do,
He was a proud one
I tell you.

If ever you go to Dublin town
In a hundred years or so
Sniff for my personality,
Is it Vanity's vapour now?
O he was a vain one,
Fol dol the di do,
He was a vain one
I tell you.

I saw his name with a hundred more
In a book in the library,
It said he had never fully achieved
His potentiality.
O he was slothful,
Fol do the di do,
He was slothful
I tell you.

He knew that posterity had no use
For anything but the soul,
The lines that speak the passionate heart,
The spirit that lives alone.
O he was a lone one,
Fol do the di do
Yet he lived happily
I tell you.