The White Tower

This poem is dedicated to you.

The guiding light in my darkest hour

my strength from within

my safe harbour during the storm,

thank you.

I

I’m fighting a mind full of lies

a delusion full of minds

categorically angered by a non-entity non-existence

but ashamed of finding the truth

the pink lotus opens to the dawn and we set about our day

never knowing why we continue this way

a blanket thick and rough covers the moor

trading excitement for expectation your arms lay astride

opening earth to its will and folding the self within

when can we understand the birds when we can’t understand each other?

a crane flew aloft yesterday to Orly

wings flapped into the gaping sunset

never again to see the plains of Africa

its life for you

its return to that god-damned space

thirty cubic inches

few shy of a coffin but none the better

consolation in a bottle

find the bar before it finds you

mere memory, a dust grain on the moon

I saw a rose in a dream, white and in space

I looked down upon a milky lake

an expanse beyond belief

and found my eyes wandered onto a white marble tower

“what is this place?”

questions remained unanswered and I knew I had reached Nirvana

but awoken I swam into abyss

Luxor behind the eyes of the king and shores will await him within

when you find the truth in your sleep you wake refreshed

fingers feeling their way through a dune respond to nothing

deadened sense from over-stimulation

needles in a glass cold as ice

the leopard trapped in a glacier

frozen until the heat thaws the mountain

predator became prey

when you alight the train

affixed with thoughts of the journey

lands of question now within reach

a dead apple rotted to the core

among the many possessions in your keep

we travel with trash to show where we’ve been

we write postcards as a memory of what once was and can never be

an imaginary response to a sheltered life

a snow-capped peak in the desert

a desert drifting along a sea

a simple carnation growing on a hillside

that wary traveller you’ve seen

the lamp that guides us at night, brilliant though it be

shall not reunite you to your own without your guidance

a lamp without a guide

a person without freedom

the fraught peril and no knowledge of return

sojourn to a land of green

the colour of money

greed of action is malice athwart itself

I’ll trade your outward hate for my inner peace

until the anger fades away and darkness enters the light

to crash into the waves

the oldest battle of time

good and evil

who decides, the latter or the former

are we on either side

or just playing the opposite against the other

and God is judging us, who’s judging God?

can a harp’s song ever be evil?

can a murder ever be redeemed?

if something is good it must also be capable of evil

duality rules science and science is the god-killer

the soul may reside inside our being but is the soul externally controlled?

science the myth destroyer rests for nothing

it needs only imagination to feed

unholy beast

on the far side of the ocean tall ships await

their destination- the unknown

and soon they reach lands beyond all contemplation

to settle and spread throughout those they call heathen

only to learn one day that we are all the same, all people

and nothing will change where we’re born or where we’re from except

honest and open understanding

she handed me a bowl of tea

I hesitantly blew off the heat

accepting a few minutes wait for it to cool

high up in the Andes a condor flew

no bird shall ever judge the condor

the greatest bird of flight

we think we can change the world enough for ourselves

but end up changing it too much for everything else

disgust at the pigs of greed

lament to the sorrow they’ve ensured

I will douse their wicked contempt for all but themselves

with active love for all whom they’ve hurt

now surrounded by billions of sheep

we’re led before the lions of greed

a slave to the pigs

I need a revolution in the hearts of the greater

I cannot stand without the mass behind me

you are my brother’s and sister’s

a wayfarer’s strength in a time of dire need

we will not stand alone and never falter

when the lions die before the pigs and the pigs die before their greed

acid amongst words of peace, yes!

but you need acid to melt our bonds of steel

and erode the bars that contain us

for your freedom and mine

bold minds embody the courage they content

a sheer cliff atop a precipice in the sky

like an impossible Escher sketch

soul and mind combine into infinite possibilities

connecting millions of atoms together

creating eternity from its infancy

which reminds me of a thought I once had- the universe is everything it isn’t

and the clouds fell over the trees

a hush atmosphere

stadiums full of people

full of sheep untended

watching one man kick a ball to another

waiting for a stray glance into the net

the home team is up one nil but it’s not all over yet

angst at the acceptance of a small victory will destroy their next match

I can see nothing but pure isolation from humankind

a small opening into a lush valley filled with ferns and a fountain

with a waterfall backdrop and only gentle creatures to sip at its coolness

near a shallow hill bearing fruit laden trees I will await the outcome of Armageddon

or against better judgement- ride out on a black steed and try to prevent it

for this peace I would gladly sacrifice my life

and the lives of those whom join me

but if nothing is learned and war starts again

this life begets pain and only in vain

the raven craws fortune for our fears

and a payment is expected for its due deeds

seven black dahlias and the severed head of a superpower leader

that which accomplishes something great with so little is an action worthy of history

lies among lines of text

our biggest regret

a shame to those pure in existence and death

an unpayable debt

silver-tongued clouds clothed in the gold of sun

the day breaks all mystery with its light

an irony of this world- there stands a shadow at all times during the day

in far flung lands

a distant barrier to the night and darkness, which is ever reaching

an imbalance can be found in all things

one grain of dust two atoms bigger than another

it’s a matter of matter

the cat arches its back in a way I wished was physically possible for humans

no human can show satisfaction for relaxation like a cat

as I look into her eyes I wonder what it would be like to have nine lives

would I live each the same as another or change one slightly here and there

the difference between one lifetime and another

a matter of matter

destruction can create as much as it destroys

but creation can only create, not destroy

to be the gods of our own fate

the owl dives sharp towards its nimble wood-mouse prey

its eyes can detect the slightest movement within a hundred yards

of pitch black night

tar on the deck of a sailing ship

pressed men voyaging into the unknown

questions of home, hygiene and morale on their lips

the taste of cold salt and rum on their tongues

not knowing where or how far away home is

a feeling that pits the stomach of even the bravest of souls

when darkness is all you can imagine do you press ahead or turn back?

how do we see in the dark without a guiding lamp

for the waves and all due fortune spell death, anathema for any human alive

albatross, albatross fly my way

turn your cheek not from me

dear albatross please stay

you haunt me like a ghost, my nightmares

leave me waking at night

nothing in this mystery

just phantom plagues

you sad blue tulip, look where you’ve grown

I see nothing but rocks strewn along this path

but you flew from your home and grew here anyhow

will you wait for a carriage or passing car to tread out your life

or some inconsiderate person to pluck you up and put you in a window sill jar

only to let you wither away slowly in pain?

and what is pain without delusion

a credit to itself

a prey seeking animal

searching for your approval

personified by the most common personality trait

for people are approval seeking animals

junkies for drugs and junkies for society

one the shunned whilst the proclaimed

the only “I am” to be accepted

like an eagle it has no imitations

lift them all to the heavens- for they are most worthy… bollocks!

nothing but sheep’s balls for the masses

finish the supper we feed you with a grin you sheep

you human sheep

don’t think about life, you should be too busy working

let the pig’s provide the lion’s share they say

we work harder and longer than you to get what we own

now till those fields and don’t complain

it’s your lot in life

then day breaks your back with an orange luminance

the clouds retreat for this night’s onslaught

for the poet of peace has a devil’s tongue and an angel’s mind

the first for your understanding

the second is for mine

but you need not fear what is capable or incapable

fear only to die a thousand deaths for a lie

reliving each day again

only to be betrayed by the betrayers

and step into the bustling square

merchants from many lands peddling their wares

haggle a penny for a pound of gold

smell the incense drenched smoke

rising like a rage

sheep chattering in the crossfire of voices

an exchange of opinion and green

nothing more for something less

you felt lost that day

unexpectant of the way people lived merely three continents away

never less sure about anything except home

thinking only of the one you love sitting beside you

and questioning these very thoughts

fire red hibiscus on the trees reminding you of Taiwan

a pang of longing- longing for distant lands and weary of this world

I took a sip from the now cool bowl of tea

delight dawned from inside

created from nothing more than- water, tea leaves and clay

one day my body will fit into this bowl of clay

by then an empty shell devoid of use

my soul will find another body to fill

but my old body will decay and treat some lucky worm to a meal

lucky worm!

one day that worm’s luck will run out

maybe when it rains and he rises through the earth for a peek at the sky

or maybe the worm knows when its time to die

either way its time for the sparrow to dive down and graduate the food chain another cycle

cycles, circles and spheres

and everywhere we look we can relate one to another

like a planet that is flat from where you stand but round from space

another frontier

not indifferent to the human brain

a universe of reacting electrons

shooting speed of light fast pulses of information

most of which is useless

until we realise our true self

that green orchid sits in the forest

an example of beauty

unstained and unfettered

awaiting a day that your eyes should look upon it

emerald and jade, the colour of vitality

of innocent purity and what lies in store for all that is pure

love and an existence within love for an eternity

the essence of being

never to feel again any negative emotions

never to hunger for anything

just to be one with the self

for half a millisecond

cocooned inside the infinite cocoon

the soul a huddled mass lifted to the clouds above

resting no longer tired eyes

plummeting towards cool blue waters

awash a bay of crystal the white tower could be seen

the gate is open

you climb the stairs like a hawk

spiralling up and up and onward

there is nothing left in your heart to drag you down

no possessions or memories

only stair upon stair and the thought of what may await you at the top

and then, you wake…

II

The bowl of tea sits on the table

now lonely and empty

waiting to be filled, its singular purpose

autumn leaves scatter themselves in the small courtyard

if you looked hard enough you might be able to discern a pattern

maybe a star

a flower

or something we humans would build

machines and skyscrapers

this material world

the tree will continue to grow through this winter and into the next

but one day the wood from its trunk will be used for the hull of a mighty galleon

a galleon that will carry an unwilling crew to distant shores

in search of gold to line the coffers of the king

the king’s greed has no limit

he will grow fat off the backs of “his people” who he claims to love

in that time “his people” will ruin the landscape

to provide the kingdom with resources

to fund his mad conquest of the globe

but despite the cruelty of the king

the sun will set on his triumph

the azure skies a remainder of his plague upon the earth

his exploitation of both people and nature soon forgotten

eventually giving way to idolisation from another generation

those who understand nothing of his inhumanity

an ear of corn harvested and thrown into the pit-fire

a reason to forget I am human

the animal contends with me

treats me with disgust

so I retreat to a cave in the mountains

my only solace from the suffering outside

but soon I discover it’s my duty to deliver

the hurt from hate and the fear from anger

not my duty to others as a shepherd

but a duty to myself for the understanding of what must be done

a burden I would gladly evade were it possible

to escape burden is the task of a drug

though most of the time the burden is merely postponed rather than escaped

or that burden mutates to a problem

a problem of habit

a drug habit

I dream of snow in the desert

an exit from the heat and dry boredom

a week’s flight if I were a swallow

or a month before schedule on the plane

drums bang and cymbals clatter in the square

an oasis for the deaf

five million feet in cubed concrete for every city on this planet

and only a four foot wide box for me

an oblong of claustrophobic proportions

single bed and a table (no lamp)

hole in the wall

at some point we all decided we should live our lives in a box

and wander off to spent ten hours a day in another box

- though slightly bigger than the first -

and forget about what’s happening outside of these boxes

or what’s happening inside the other five million feet of cubed concrete

or stop and sit under a nine hundred year old tree and not think about boxes at all!

but we go on

at a snails pace

day after day

and on reflection realise that day after day has become year after year

and with that thought you turn to me and tell me that you’re old…

I’m sorry to say this- you’re not old

you’ve never been born

I don’t pity you though

my only pity is that you hadn’t realised sooner

but you find yourself in a state of regret and bitterness

at a life spent in several boxes

and this then manifests itself into cancer or a psychological disorder

which will ultimately kill you

why after the journey for truth do you end it this way?

there is still a great expanse ahead

a vast lake of milky white with a single pink lotus petal floating adrift

where nothing is left- only the truth and yourself

we all stand amongst desires

fighting ourselves and each other

but inside your soul there is only you

solitude and no one to prevent your attainment from being and becoming light

nothing is holding you back

only you

just look deep into the vast white lake

and you may just arrive

wake up

wake up inside

traverse a thousand lifetimes towards one goal

regret not this nonexistent past you cling to

the future is near

nearer than you can envision

the empty bowl of tea drops to the floor and shatters

its purpose fulfilled

it had not been laboured for in vain

and another will soon replace it

the only vestiges of the tea bowl and its piece’s

are the memories of its benefit in the minds of those whom held it

an object can benefit its owner or become a burden

our possessions are only as valuable as we make them

what you value is your choice

I value solely life…

an ibis takes flight into the sapphire sky

destined for clearer waters and calmer days

nights without the murky heat of central Africa

long after the sun has gone down

one would look with such horror to be unsure of where to rest

not the ibis

the ibis continues to sail high up between warm air layers

banking and veering to find the path of greatest ease

ignored totally by the creatures below in their boxes of concrete

and equally ignoring them

one would think that the ibis knows no more of its existence than we do

the same sheep that ignore the ibis’s flight are the same sheep

who move about between concrete boxes shaping out a meagre living

subsiding on less than satisfaction for the mere satisfaction

desiring more belongings for less toil

existing daily with the hope of finding happiness outside themselves

just not within- where it waits

the ibis flies on into the night

no human will ever know if this bird is thinking incredible thoughts

or is happy itself

we will never know and may never care

but there is one thing

one thing the ibis will always have that we can only dream of…

freedom

freedom to fly

freedom from possessions

no concrete box for this bird

no cage

nothing

a tank full of gas is the most freedom you can afford

a bare highway to nowhere

maybe for a weekend

a month or a year

in the end you go back to the boxes for enough green

to reward another weekend away

its bleak but its how we think we live

trading green paper for your freedom and sweat

forget not my son for you are already forgotten

spiritus sanctus mortus

and flesh shall become fragment

like bread to be eaten by the establishment

they won’t eat you whole- just piece by piece

if there’s anything left we’ll feed the birds

fools!

no use fighting the power without fighting your perception of the power

no use fighting at all if you think you’re happy

they’ve already won my friend

you may think hell is a battlefield

but you’ve never fought a war

know not lest ye know more

and forget about crying for the dead

you can’t undo what cannot be undone

respect is important

though it’s a tricky path

honour the dead

without a tear

remember the good

but fear the tyrant

it’s his goal to destroy all that is pure and unspoiled

for he will speak like the poet of peace- with a devil’s tongue

though in his mind are the horrors of a hell unsung

with a black hand of terror he will unleash the fury of an unknown god

obsession arcane immersed in hate is the greatest evil of all

arms to bring only death

to spread across distant lands

black clouds above

wrath so immense that a river of blood will yield down every street in the city

genocide in the ghetto

nation biased hate

rage within lies

yes, the tyrant is pitiless and will show no mercy

but duality provides equality amid all

the merciless must give way to his own greed and ultimately be replaced

by the merciful

a person who in parallel replaces hatred with love

and is always willing to guide the ship away from the rocks

caring not of their life but only of others

compassion- the gift with which the fire of hate is extinguished

amnesty- its companion

the ferry crosses the bay with slow precision

its passengers just many on a voyage to lands not yet known to them

without an idea of what to receive you step off the gangplank

you travel for the love of travel and the love of the ideal journey

never truly understanding what that really is

an iceberg adrift the ocean

floating towards a goal or melting in warmer waters

no decision or care for a decision

people back home think you’re crazy for wanting to leave their world of boxes

“what’s out there that you don’t have here?”

nothing

nothing but brief escape

from some pain that you believe to be life

some sorrow buried deep down inside

to be forgotten in the drone of a different lie

there is no white tower gleaming in the distance

only brown hills in some foreign space

more sheep in another land

untended with an alien tongue

voice without reason

creating new cages for the bold young soldier

condemning peace to an insanity

another crime to the innocent

forlorn at a wake

drunk the blind and drunk the wine

discouragement at ones own apathy

apartheid between willing and wanting

more and more at odds

snake in the grass

ready to strike you deadly adder

hand me my venom dear snake

I will snap that neck in a second

oxygen deprived asphyxiation

a problem among the sheep you strode into

the poison without the antidote one might say

then I arrived at the decision but turned back

too costly they told me

not enough time or green to cover the greed

so you bury yourself with lies in the dirt

forget about your home were it possible

draw a line in the sand and then cross it

this desert a desert of concepts

nothing but the untried and unfettered

a beacon to the hills of home where the white cherry blossom flowers turn

spring into winter

there is no colour like white

a shade of such purity that even kings will adorn it during their wedding

and a virgin will wear it to show their virginity

her eyes are brown and the shape of almonds

when I blanket her in my peace

wrapping arms around a body containing

beating heart, mind and soul

no event can destroy the perfect moment

or create another more perfect

the jackals may try but we keep them at bay

while reaching for a level plain of happiness between two humans

love is the agreement that we agree on more things than we disagree on

if you can’t live with that then leave

I will wait for those who want me to wait

friends, family and lovers

and your friend’s are my friends

my brothers

my sisters

the wayfarers’ family is a big family indeed

I travel this planet to see my family

familiar fates among the children of the sun

crying to be true and free

she hands me a new bowl of tea

the pieces of the old swept away by hand and broom

I swivel the bowl on the table

pretending to be interested in its pattern

contemplating the object that is

watching leaves from another time and place fall from the trees

another cold shiver from inside

chilled to the bone during night

I sweat uncontrolled all through the day

no end to the summer

no end to winter

temperatures rise, abate, and then rise again

stars shone way up on high

rivers ceaseless in their flow to the seas

ripe plums fall from their trees

then decay or get eaten

a use in existence

complete or denied

maybe that applies to all life?

maybe just mine

we deceive ourselves again in actions or words

carry in each day not knowing of the end

and never remembering how it began

ides of life and death

a factor of cause

and effect

the prophet stood with arms outstretched to the sky

the clouds they did hail and with his voice he did cry

“I have become human!”

not a single second past

the heavens opened

he was spirited away

nor a single witness bar the crows in the trees

to see such a feat

but his message carried itself through every cloud and every inch of sky

who can say they are human?

what are your reasons

you think therefore you prove nothing

no one alive is able to answer this

what use are we?

what use is anything?

the tea bowl may have a single purpose but at least it has one

your actions may speak but what do they have to say?

you are alone with everyone including yourself

no reason to fade into the unknown my friend

just enough reason to contemplate

I’m not giving you a loaded gun

just the ammunition for one

crossed legs, palms out

time for time to cease

memory to become distant

act upon nothing- for it is nothing you need

rise on the crest of the hill

snow all around

a white landscape

bury yourself in this task

the gap between here and now

climb to the top and peek over

the crow will guide you, he knows the way

a scavenger to the fallen is a true friend to the living

have no pity for the dead but never forget their faces

eyes of determination shine throughout the night

lead the way dear ghost, dear crow

for I am ready

I may be walking through the wreckage of my past thoughts and sorrows

but my guide here is worthy

if we stray from the path we will fall into a sleep as if it were a dream

but if we follow the way of the crow only the white tower lay ahead

mysteries surround this land of dead

ignore the devil in your head

you have the compass

the staff of mercy cribbed in your hand

ciphers of runes lining a corridor older than all the stars in the universe

the dust on the path is so light a perpetual veil of crystalline glows behind

a journey back can be surmised though nevertheless unwanted

only the heart can be heard

beating slow like a drum

boom…

so close…

boom…

III

Land ho!

the sailors reek of rotten cabbage and piss

two weeks from a bath and ready to crack open the captains skull

the mood however floats downwind when the ship is ready to cast anchor

“hurrah!” shout a hundred worn men

the victory is in hand

native life lay ahead

untouched by the pox or anything else the sailors would bring

a magnanimous event or the end of innocence

four hundred years later we’ll know

for now we live the moment

and thank the lord that we may teach these poor simple natives the way

the way to live life correctly

what do the natives know- waking around naked

living in straw huts

worshipping ten gods instead of one

that’s not efficient

tsk- such a waste of energy these natives

we can teach them so much!

show them how to build real houses

- concrete boxes -

and show them how to trade and make money

they too can be happy like us

yeah sure a few of the weak ones will die of the pox and other plagues

but the strong will survive and have us to thank

oh hypocrisy- the crimson bowl of lies fed to us by our “leaders”

who are we to judge our terrible actions?

and deceive ourselves into thinking that what we did was right

hail to the human abattoir!

where the pigs lead the sheep to the slaughter

how many must die for their faith?

how many will kill?

gold n’ belief

a cave-in

doves of innocence trading lives for gold

there is no price great enough for one life I tell you

don’t let the pigs say otherwise

when the merciful and meek fall you cannot trade anything

for the light that they bring

we are all blind in the dark

alone in the void

not an angel in sight

just a single lotus

flower of awakening- awaken me

dawn lifts the night yonder

shrugging off its leash of stars

a mosque full of prayers to Allah- my only identity right now

and I’m nothing before my first coffee

to truth I am not much different than others

a human capable of the inhuman

just because I don’t carry a sword doesn’t mean I can’t weld one

the one thing preventing me from being the tyrant is nestled in my soul of souls

a great lake of compassion- vast and white

but the day is long and I am weary

a testament to the idle body

broken through years of sailing and voyaging from dream to dream

falling through a hole underground to yet another world of slumber

and oh how I sleep!

half my life in the waking world and the other half in a vision

“it’s not right” they tell me

but how would they know any better

drifting between boxes in smaller boxes

looking up ambition in the dictionary so they can turn to others

and say they have goals

my only goal lay nestled somewhere in the soul

when I find it you’ll be one of the first to know

though I may leave the waking world for dreams

will bother no one in the land of the crescent moon

sheep caught in sleep as much as me

Berbers lost in a desert of dunes

riding atop mountainous camels

driving towards the next spring of fresh water

contained in a trancelike state on a journey that takes days

ever a drop closer to that vast white lake than all other sheep

but never knowing this

a camel in the desert is to a ship in the ocean

or a plane in the sky

some kind of slow freedom

no respite along the way

just hours and hours of thinking

hours of thought

then one day tragedy darkened my skies

the ruin you endure

when someone you love deeply dies

her life a mere forfeit for mine

cresting this horror

I spiralled ever downward

and my lake became black

all hope is lost when a poet pities the dead

my coffin prepared

time to lie down to this sweet end…

you drift sorrow

you are a sad swan

lift your head for nothing

or no one

think not of today

tomorrow

this year

sleep with a willing desire to fear

bathe in the anticlimax of lost souls

stay in pain

for yourself you do not refrain

and during another day the oranges on the trees were green

you thought they were limes

silly child- open your eyes!

what once was has been and will always be

question not the answers my student

for you still have much to learn

earn it just don’t yearn for it

you can still focus in a state between relaxation and concentration

I never knew I would see this day- yet here I am

- I am but will I ever be -

floating with this knowledge on an endless sea

grasping for air because its air that I need

watching orange blossoms fall from their tree

you had a hand in my suicide attempt- grief

you made me believe that without her there was nothing else

but grief got too greedy

trying to consume all of me when it should have consumed parts

I began to see the devil within myself

charred hatred dwelled his heart

black fire billowed forth

with razor-sharp claw

this evil that polluted the lake was now battering down the white tower

a curse cried out to this fiend

you evil machine

fall before my might

my army of peace

but I was alone and the devil got his wish

the tower collapsed with a powerful roar

as if a lion had been slain

you think you have won?

I’ll be back again…

cataclysms will always befell on a hero

a hero is a hero for what he overcomes in himself

not for whom he defeats

the falcon will climb high before a dive

a sure sign of fortune

a fortuitous life

must we kill to survive

animals hunt their kin

yet should the same rules apply to us?

are we any different?

why does the butcher have such a clear mind about what needs to be done

never second guessing his task

you take a sharp knife

the kill must be performed in one quick action

the faster the better

hang the feet off this hook so we can drain the blood out of the neck

but don’t forget to put a bucket underneath it

or you’ll get blood on your shoes

stupid pig!

lived its entire life eating what we fed it

how could it not realise we were going to eat it

sure they get that look in their eyes before the kill

a terrified look

as if they know what’s coming to them

yet they live everyday like pigs

eating and sleeping in their own filth

stupid animal!

what makes the pig harder to kill are the eyes

very similar to human eyes

especially when you see the whites while their dying

it takes a cold man to kill a pig

aloof in his own tower

a man who can act without thinking

and feel without acting

this person for all their cold exterior betrays is a step closer to the tower than most

the ability to silence their own cries belies this

it draws them to the inner circle

a meditative state

it’s fair to say that humankind began as beasts

tribal and primal

hunting other animals with simple spears

skinning a carcass with chipped obsidian

and wearing the pelts

wasting not a single inch of flesh

breaking the bones and sucking out the marrow

did God then tell us we were different to animals

or did we tell ourselves?

not that it matters

forty thousand years and were not that much different

and in another forty thousand it won’t really matter

salt in the eyes of the condemned

but were nonetheless condemned

draw your last breath and fire the damn arrow

just don’t tell us lies anymore

we’ve heard it all before Machiavelli

ten more nights and I’m free

no longer an artisan controlled by an art

just a single silver dart

then

forked tongue aside I will be ready to speak

into the ears of the willing

or the ears of the weak

television is an opiate they say

forget the TV I want the opium today!

before you drown in the pain of sorrow have you any last words

choose carefully my friend- this is a test

tests- faith and knowledge

faith in knowledge- the only faith you need

and when you stand before the ruins of the tower tonight

bathed in the pale white light of the rose

knowledge will be your sword

the greatest blade of all

cut with courage

triumph!

triumph over the devil that destroyed the white tower

fell him with a single blow

you pit of utter despair

take to death as quickly as you took my life

for I am mad before I am defeated

a storm upon the world

chaos before order

order after action

you have no home in my dreams

come no longer to haunt me

nor destroy my progress within

I have many lives to live and tragedy shall curse me no further

I swore to protect the weak that day

a judgement crowned decision from the soul

if you think I have an ego now

wait until I start helping those in need

a kind act is greater when it goes unseen

no press to report the good I’m going to do

for the world

it’s on me friend, just don’t mention it

then the flowers no longer bloomed and it occurred

where do I begin?

Jesus didn’t leave his holy land

and Ghandi began in Africa

who had more compassion - religion aside - who knew more than the other?

martyr upon martyr

to add to the pile

where to start?

where to start

one could say I began with a poem

a message buried inside, but easy to find

I’m not in to deep mysteries or riddles

if you want people to listen you must speak their language

give the young a desire to learn

don’t force it!

children are led by example

and need to enjoy that which they imitate

accept nothing but the happiness they bring and return it tenfold

a light-year is the time it takes for light to travel within a year

energy equals mass times velocity squared

how do you know where something is if you’ve never been there

at an early age he displayed quite an interest in geography

always knowing the names of capital cities

but not knowing what was in them

they live in concrete boxes over there too

yet what do they think and see?

don’t just generalise

stereo-typewriter

keys banging down different verdicts

this person and that

quality of life and GDP

statistic

statistic

nothing that can’t be represented by numbers

the binary code we all are

10100010

the pigs can hate something that doesn’t have a face

send the lions to kill numbers not sheep

it’s not the mother and three children that just died

its- 101110101

bad apples have seeds

and we must prevent a new tree from growing

care not sadistic pig

fret not over 101110101

time will tell the sheep the truth

and isn’t that what matters most?

we thought we had perspective

true belief in a higher God

truer than the others

crazy cultists kill themselves

not us- we would rather see the world in flames

let God and Satan sort out the afterlife

we humans have better things to do

sex, drugs and rock n’ roll

is there a more worthy goal?

abstain till you die wicked sinner

I’ve shown you the way- now follow it

catholic Frankenstein this protestant mind

punk-ass bitch pimp crack-whore dealer no better

you cannot be sheep unless you follow the leader

you knew the rules before the game began

but you still decided to break them

what are you?

some kind of John Wayne-Kurt Cobain I’m gonna create my own cultural era?

the era of eras is over

it’s just the same channel on repeat

don’t fool yourself

how could you think you’re a modern poet- renaissance man

when you can’t even construct a sentence

the only true rebels are doing twenty five to life

killing someone is never right

not even when their raping your wife

yet even without purity and innocence

a prison can open the mind

and lead the found evil

to a greater understanding of the self

he never knew how it happened

the snap- deliverance

a knife covered in blood

cold bodies blue and red

the sacred oxygen carrier spilled on the rug

mock trial for the sheep

media masses

frigid prison bed

the new place to sleep

you may look no further than the crime

but that’s still somebody doing the time

caretakers of the unwanted

you pay your taxes for that bed

then if disaster strikes

will those taxes give you a place

to rest your own head

went all your life without hurting anyone- where’s your punishment?

everyone’s a victim of human experience

it’s how we see ourselves in relation to the animals

crawling on the ground eating grubs and foraging

forget about that for us

four thousand years ago- yes!

but not now

I buy my clothes in a shop mister

my needs are provided for

sterilised and wrapped in plastic

no need to label me an animal

creature of the night

nothing but neon light

represent time through a measurement

and relate everything to time

how long

how soon

when are we there?

“why are you late for work today?”

“sorry sir I was busy writing about human decay”

“what?”

“never mind”

he may be watching the clock but whose watching the boss?

the bosses’ boss

or the bosses’ bosses’ boss

it’s not like a job is that important

more green to feed the machine

its alright we know where you’ve been

just keep riding the gravy train

and don’t step off that plane!

where do you think you’re going?

Thailand?

like hell you are!

get back to work!

son it’s been too long

we never had time to do anything together

you’re all grown-up and I’m an old man

please forgive me my son

I know that you can…

IV

Clouds

- red clouds -

thunder on the horizon

and with it more rain

you wished the rain would wash away the inhabitants of the city

fed up with running around in circles and avoiding street beggars

cursing the day you left that tiny piece of land with your name on it

three thousand miles away

but its gone now- sold to the highest bidder

and you are somewhere else

another snapshot of disparity

wanderer, wandering

the only thing worse than owning a concrete box

is not knowing where to own one

feel trapped somewhere else my child

if the land isn’t big enough you will start to feel suffocated

remember those you left behind

just try and replace them

you’re nothing more than a dysfunctional monkey now

no more social bananas for you

bad monkey!

then on one of those starless-moonless nights where all is black

I made it back to my lake

it was white again

and there was not a devil to be seen

yet the tower still lay collapsed

I then made the biggest mistake I could

I let sorrow back into my heart and despair filled my bones

awakened I groaned, how will I ever get my tower back?

how will I ever know what lies within?

a shattered space inside the illusion

constellation in a glass of water

there may be a tower within us all

but there is something going on out there

I’m not a paranoid head case- though I may be getting there

I’m talking about the universe

that massive expanse outside your window

kingdom come baby

that all you can eat buffet of galaxies

as much parking space as we’ll ever need

how can we even begin to live the lie that there’s no one else out there

that’s a lot of nothing to be filled with nobody

even on every inch of this planet there’s life

when you bite into badly prepared food

who knows how many billion organisms you just killed?

you bacteria killing son of a bitch!

step into the darkness with only your thoughts to keep you sane

there’s nothing in here

it’s just a small dark hole with only me

please don’t die

I want to be free

no evil- no demons- no nightmares

just darkness and me

it must be time to let me out soon

“LET ME OUT!”

please God get me out of here

I’m innocent, I swear!

you know it to be true

I didn’t kill anyone, you know I didn’t

then a small light appears in the hole

just a small light

“are you there?”

…

“answer me!”

“wait!”

I’m not ready

wait… what is this

WOOOOOOOOOSH…

“where am I?”

…

you crossed the street that day about one point seven five seconds too early

too busy thinking about the land you left three thousand miles away

disgusted by this filthy city and its filthy inhabitants

too sick to even look where you were going

SMACK! THUD! RRRPPPL!

the sound of your body making a split-second encounter with a moving vehicle

the last thing your ears will ever hear

sure they’ll try to patch you up in hospital

but even you know your dead

game over

thanks for playing

please insert one dollar to play again

in my honest and hopeful opinion

what happens to you in the afterlife is entirely up to you

if you want to eat an endless bucket of cottage cheese- fine!

just don’t tell me how to live my afterlife

we can’t have freedom while we’re alive

so I think it’s only fair that we get it while we’re dead

but regardless of the fact that a lot of people will disagree with me

how many of those people have died yet?

most of the crew woke up still smelling of piss and rum

the day had dawned after a hard night of raping and pillaging

in one of the native camps

the captain wasn’t too pleased

about the extreme acts the crew bought upon the natives

he had a wife and was a loyal man

but he allowed them liberties to repair morale

and besides, what was more important

a couple of natives

or the king?

with the crew happy he could head to the next island

in search of the elusive element- gold

it makes the stars shine brighter and all our lives easier

the only problem is that everyone else wants it

to hell with the other nations

nothing but a pack of godless animals!

our king is the only king

appointed by God and the heavens

he can never err

he will never stray

not like me

I’ve strayed a few times

often doubted my choices in life

but I’m human- the captain thought quietly to himself…

as if someone could listen to a thought anyhow

it would be a hell of a racket

you wouldn’t get any sleep

I would most likely kill myself if I could hear everyone’s thoughts…

wait!

what’s that man doing?

is he going to jump off the side of that building?

he’ll be killed!

“NO SHiiii..!”

just as well I can’t hear people’s thoughts anyhow

I can only imagine dirty some of those minds are out there

I surf the web pleb!

you’re looking for what?!?

please don’t stand next to me on the train

guilty of more crimes than a mass-murderer

steal the innocence of a child

faceless paedophiles

nothing but demons in human form

if hell exists and we cross paths one day

I’ll punch that ticket

so stay out of my way

you can never give a person back two things- innocence and life

that makes both crimes equal in my eyes

an eye for a tooth

a tooth for an eye

only in death will one find the truth if their past is a lie

square off with your own devil

I squared off with mine

don’t turn your back yet

you still have time left

it’s not over until you believe it’s over

wiser words were never spoken

you may find yourself drowning in a raging sea

your lungs filling with water

but as long as there’s still fight left in you- fight damn it!

I won’t give up on you

even if you already gave up on yourself

I’ve come from the brink of utter ruin

not for nothing

for you!

and for anyone else who thinks it’s time to give up

push off

forget it

life is precious short to waste in a pit

you have a mind capable of great things

get off your ass and out there

I’ll be watching your back

I’ve made my vow

for your own safety now

lend me your burden

count the blessing of others

and return their faith in you

the truest of gifts

compassion

a virtue

and then there was that day in late autumn

the trees lay bare

fresh ploughed fields

and the harvest long gone

people stayed indoors to wait out winter

but a single poor farmer knew death was at hand

he saw himself as no more than a simple man

yet he was lucid beyond all others

he lived sixty nine years to the day

and saw visions of saint Michael in his sleep

people of the village always came to him with questions

not that day

as people huddled into his tiny cottage there was not a sound to be heard

“why are you all so quiet? I’m not dead yet”

the villagers looked at each other awkwardly

the farmer sighed and laid back his head on the pillow

oh well, if they won’t speak then I may as well dream…

droplets of rain slide down the window

perfect- the first rain I’ve seen since I’ve been here

when you live on a desert continent you find delight in the rain

a warm cosy feeling wells up your chest

and you can’t help but waste time looking out the window

it’s meditative

I even like walking outside and getting wet

yes I’m crazy- we’ve covered that

but over here it felt like slap in the face

a grim reminder of how far away that concrete box you call home really is

it’s hard to find your comfort in a foreign land

more so depending on how foreign that land is

yes travel is about seeing new sights and enjoying new cultures

but the longer you part from the culture you grew up with

the harder it gets being away from it

and I thought I was a hard bastard

piffle!

back to bastard school for me

rotting tree

caught disease a year back

it’s not fair- though nothing is in life

sharpened knife

these images printed in ink

just to make you think

about the years long forgotten now remembered

a memory is a memory for your brain only

others may be in the same time and space

but only you will remember things in your own certain way

which is why I’m telling my story

it may have words arranged in a particular way that you’ve read before

but it can contain a unique experience that you never lived

the combinations are brilliant

tens of thousands of words interconnecting into several stories- superb!

and then I was sitting in Agadir

have no fear

the food at Ibitissam was good

and the waiter shared me his tea

it all wasn’t so bad at that moment

I felt I could breathe before twelve hours on a bus

wind among the clouds

but the mind has a way of controlling you

and when it grabs hold there is no letting go

home again laid down its hand

and I was losing this game

no shame in defeat

just put your tail between your legs jackal

it’s easier than you think

the dogs of doom are howling more

and giving me reason to give in

you may have resolved to see things through to this bitter finale

but I have your family

friends

and worldly possessions

my ace in the pocket

and now my ace up the sleave- you’re lonely!

no one to count on in a land of alien tongues

alright- I give in

don’t play this game with me anymore

it’s time to go...

it’s time to go home...

V

We chartered a new course

through the Spanish main

the crew we’re glad to be moving again after a long week in Port Royale

repairing the damage done by a tropical storm

our orders from the governor we’re very clear

find the Spanish treasure fleet and shadow their movements

with an accurate chart of their course we could predict where they will make anchor

and hit them

hard

before that we would have to scout the main for Spanish galleons

a grim task

one that could take months and yield no reward

the crew will want more “action” in that time

and this again bothered the captain as he pondered it

he was little more than a trapped man

a man caught between the king

the crew

and his own morality

he would like nothing more than to stay back at home with his wife

but he had a duty to perform for his king and country

how does a man of loyalty and integrity avoid doing things he considers immoral

if those acts are a part of his duty?

is the captain an evil man if he follows his orders

is he a stupid man for having pride in his country

or both?

we always have a choice in how to act

this is life

you may not have freedom in the purist sense of the word

but you can always say “no” to performing an action you think is wrong

at times it will be the harder path to take

but the road to righteousness is paved with personal sacrifice

and many lives lay strewn upon that path

clean souls without guilt

and souls that could no longer contain it

doesn’t matter which is yours

just as long as you can turn and say “no”

no matter what the cost

and on that day you are truly merciful

a beacon of compassion

a just soul untroubled

white light

shepherd to the masses- lead on

if you can be a worthy example we should follow you

we need leaders who put the needs of the many above their own desires

practically a person without desires

a leader with a hunger to help those who can’t help themselves

we need to exalt this person and give them limitless power

the power to make social changes on a massive scale

without fear of losing the support of the people

this leader will of course refuse to accept that much power

like Aragorn whom turned away the one ring- in case it should corrupt him

but we need to thrust power upon them

only then can the world work towards a Utopian society

she lay like a glimmer on the horizon

Atlantis

the myth of the ultimate society

true democratic reign

none of this USA bollocks

the greater good in the sense of the word

a land in which you feel your heart beating through the ribs that contain it

this sweet freedom

nothing else should matter

now... reality!

I’m walking down a street in Africa

it all began here- and it’s all going to end here

I tell you no lie- Africa is the real primordial life

the kill or be killed

survival of the fittest

rumble in the jungle

Africa is a test for anyone with compassion

how much did you score?

I got forty two

is that all?

back to mother Teresa with you then...

and don’t come back until you’ve cleaned up Calcutta!

I really thought I was compassionate until I came here

my lake’s dried up a little

I gave some coins to an old beggar

gave a street kid some kefta

pissing in the ocean my friend

you could give everything you own and still only make a small dent

what am I good for?

keeping me alive and nothing more

the strong survive and the weak perish

natural selection

Darwin’s cold verdict on reality

I’m fighting what Darwin discovered

I hate his cold scientific view

I was once weak but now I’m strong

what does it matter where I went wrong?

I want everyone to be equal

you think you’re better than someone else- why?

who’s to say that baby won’t grow up and become a doctor one day

because they were born with a hole in their heart?

or that child won’t be a great scientist one day because they couldn’t add?

the more you put limits on society through natural selection

the more you stagnate it

one person is not better than another because they have a certain degree or trade

we are all equal in our own ways

I have gained the gift of understanding

and now I want you to have it too

give it to as many people as you can

and we’ll see if the world becomes better or worse

I can tell you where I’ll put my money

I don’t gamble on principle- but I’m willing to make an exception

you are a true friend if you can take away one thing from all that I’ve written

it’s never too late to change- never!

you may have lived long of so many regrets

but you need never die with them

we all have made mistakes

from the floor to the ceiling I pile mine

and when I felt the shallow strain pulling me towards personal anguish

I reflected upon the reason

why we all condemn ourselves

despise our existence

abhor ourselves

and others

this is when I learned the value of compassion

it’s in us all

you need but open the door...

I opened the door

not knowing what to expect

it had been weeks since I had last seen the hills on the plain outside the temple

would they be snow white as usual

or black and charred from the great battle between myself and my despair?

I half expected a new devil to be waiting for me behind the next door

it opened slowly

blinding light and a gust of wind

then silence

the hills white

awaiting smile

showing no scars of the breadth of my trials

an admirable fate for me not to see a pained landscape

just a return to those simple happy days

I soared down the hills

delight in familiarity

as I waited for the crow to arrive

and guide me back to the tower

“crow!”

“dear crow where are you?”

my words unanswered resounded throughout the hills

then they left me unsettled

without the crow my journey through the wreckage of past thoughts and sorrows

would be a waste of time

so I waited...

VI

“sail on the horizon!”

words he had heard a hundred times before

“what type?”

the captain shouted back to the crows nest

a few terse minutes past

and then

“she’s a galleon!”

several of the men cheered

it had been three days since they had last seen another vessel

“fly our Spanish colours!”

the ruse if successful would allow the English frigate

to shadow the galleons movements

if it failed the captain would have a fight on his hands

“she’s flying Spanish colours!”

the crows nest cried out

“so far so good”

the captain murmured to himself

now all we need is for them to continue their course

a game of cat and mouse soon ensured

the captain and his crew kept their distance from the Spanish galleon

if the galleon turned towards them that would be it

all for naught

go back to Port Royale empty handed

if they survived the battle that is!

it was a stomach wrenching wait for the men

but nothing could alleviate this

“there’s another sail on the horizon captain!”

the captain scanned across the ocean with his eyeglass

he could just make out a main sail

“It’s a galleon as well!”

that’s it!

the captain thought

we’re on to the treasure fleet!

“wheelman fifteen degrees to port!”

we wouldn’t want the Spanish to think we’re following them...

two ships turning

flashes of fear

gunpowder and burning

sulphur burns the nostrils

aflame with dread

splinters slowing time

wood fragments fly futilely

around the captain...

nothing but a dream

wake up seems appropriate

not too early though

you are young my captain

and there is still time

turn the page on another dawn

turn back the clock and the terror is now gone

see how easy it is?

“captain?”

“are you alright?”

you look around in bewilderment

still the same ship

still the same situation

where did you go just now?

“captain, have you forgotten yourself?”

did I forget myself?

or am I only just realising who I am?

the first mate flashes a smile

“the Spanish are continuing their course captain”

who cares about the Spanish and their gold?

it will only bring pain to others

success at the cost of many lives

a hollow victory

apple rotted core

still firm but dead

bitter conquest

relentless...

the choice is now- go back to sleep or stay awake

“captain?”

“navigator, plot a course for Portsmouth, we’re going home”

not a soul onboard moves

can’t let them think you’ve gone mad

“now!”

most of the crew shift about their stations

the first officer steps up

“sir we are within sight of our goal, heading home now would mean failure”

you poor man

if only you could understand

death is no goal of mine

you could still make a life for yourself back home

I’ve seen what would happen if we follow those galleons

I’ve seen and I understand what must be done

we all have choices in life

a few big one’s- many small

but there is always a defining moment

the biggest choice you will ever make

it follows an epiphany

and it changes the way you live the rest of your life

the rest of your reason

like the soldier who disobeys a command to kill an innocent

no sir!

I will suffer the consequences of making this decision

I will bear that cross

and afterwards I will be a different person

have faith in your choice my friend

you made it

now move forward

take that step towards freedom

left foot, right foot

easy enough

before you know it you’ve walked clear across that courtyard and into the church

you’re getting married today

mother raised you well

you know a good man when you see one

and this one is perfect

no sense saying “no” when “yes” is quite obviously the way to go

never felt so happy in your life being with one person

soul complete along with the physical attraction

laws of nature play on all aspects of instinct

do yourself a favour and keep walking up those steps

yes

tomorrow will be different

no longer bride-to-be

now married

but changes are life

good and bad- there’s no stopping them

and with every atom in your body

every fibre of your being

you know that this is a change for the better

partners in life and partners in death

the way to be

no separate entity

only one

time to plant our own tree

this tree will grow from our seed

and over the years receive water

the ultimate life-giver

water is the earths love for all living creatures

your body is seventy percent water

a tree needs water

like a marriage needs love

without love the marriage will stagnate and die

don’t let this happen!

love this man with all your heart and he will love you likewise

he is a giving man

so accept this

but also give back in return

a truly giving person will always give without asking for anything in return

so the greatest act you can bestow upon this person is returning that love

one love

one person acting solely in compassion for those around them

I’m married to life

which is why I will never find a wife

I can love a woman- but my only wife is life

my life and all life

in the purist sense I am a dreamer

drifting between clouds

not knowing where I am

I don’t have a normal concept of time

all of my past loves have hated this

deep down I want others to be happy

but people by default are negative thinkers

maybe that is why I wrote this

not just to make you think

to make you an optimist

because there are two ways to go down with the ship

the panicked way- where you dress up as a woman to get on the lifeboat first

or the Zen way- where you accept that you’ve lived a long and fairly pleasant life

and find a quiet spot amongst the now rising waters to meditate

again it’s your choice my friend

I hope that you awaken from your sleep feeling refreshed tomorrow

just as I hope to awaken from mine...

VII

“my dear crow, where have you been?”

CAAAW- my only response

“guide me onwards crow, take me to my tower”

led from the white hills I passed again through the wreckage of my past thoughts and sorrows

trail of dust floating behind

delight in the thought of seeing my tower- though it lay in ruin

acceptance- the task at hand

not knowing how but I’ll build that tower back

my own two hands

tools for an insurmountable task

the tools of hard toil

I have time and nothing else

as I grappled with dreams sorrow

stay at this place

dwell not on broken thoughts

rake the atoms from matter to strengthen the tide

walk among your own gods

remember what lies will stand again

tall proud tower

my truest of friends

a plague may be upon me

except there’s a cure now

hard work- a lifetime to build this tower back

and then I’ll be there

dear ghost- dear crow flew back

and I felt ready to begin on what lay in ruin...

what’s that?

a shadow in my light

a figure in the starry night

beast or foe

I’m not ready for a fight

“hello!”

I shouted at the darkness

“hello!”

it shouted back

what is this creature with voice of an angel and the body of a shadow?

“hello?”

it approached and I readied myself for rebuke

nothing had prepared me for what I saw- a man dressed in white

shaking in fear

a man like myself

drawing ever so near

“who are you?”

“who am I? who are you?”

we regarded each other with suspicion

what could a sentient being be doing in my mind?

clearly he was thinking the same

and we traded glances like jabs in a knife fight

each piercing a vital here and there

I was bleeding at the thought that someone else could invade my mind

he seemed to read this thought and then stopped shaking

we we’re obviously in each others mind

realisation- like a trickle of cold water down my back

what if this tower is shared between us

impossible!

I fought my devil

it was he who fell the tower

“where are you?”

I questioned him

“I’m locked in a small dark cell... at least I think I am,

maybe I’m dead, and you?”

I looked at him with greater suspicion

he shivered

“north Africa... in a city with nothing but desert all around”

we both turned to look at the tower

a wreak

it would take one man a hundred years to rebuild it

but we were two

we gave each other a glance of understanding

sharing a single thought between two people – a gift to be treasured

and began rebuilding the tower

brick for brick

he told me that he was sent to prison for murdering his wife

his eyes betrayed more sorrow than I could comprehend

I wondered if he truly did it

he belied more remorse than anyone I ever knew

was it his tower or mine?

he noticed my pause to think

and then spoke of his battle with a devil that collapsed the tower

it mirrored my own experience almost exactly

is this same battle being fought everyday in the minds of everyone?

do we all have our own devil to slay

a beast of sorrow dwelling within

answer me that my friend

if you are true and worthy – ride into the battle with the fiend

if you kill just one thing in your life

let it be the devil inside

then lift your head to a new dawn

for to the world you are just another inhabitant

but your soul is something to behold...

with the help of the condemned man the tower was coming back to life

we would both leave to the outer world and return to continue the task

nevertheless it was difficult without more help

and then another man arrived

from a different time and place

a captain of his majesty’s royal navy

a stately man

he set to task without question

there was a sadness to him though

something he never talked about

a secret locked inside his mind

only he had that key

one day when we were just starting on the steps he told us

“I’m dead you know”

it wasn’t a surprise to me or the condemned man

we both knew that was why he never left the tower

but I could already see that his was a sad story

I put my hand on his shoulder

if I could help lift him from his burden I would

just as they would from mine

the mind is no longer a lonely place...

the captain pulled the spyglass away from his eye

“so is that it then?”

he turned to look at his first officer

“sorry sir, I’ve worked it out with the men, we’ll leave you on this island here and give you enough supplies for a week”

the captain searched for his next words carefully

“do you know what the punishment for mutiny is?”

of course they do

they all do

it doesn’t matter to them

the crew only want to plunder what they can

it’s a greedy life for them

sailing from island to island

burning native villages and passing ships

how can so many be so cruel?

a question he asked himself everyday on that island

alone with his dwindling supplies

thinking of his wife back in that England he would never see again

home so achingly distant

all the worlds’ oceans between us

a pain that jarred his heart

would I ever die but to see her again for one day

one brief instant

it’s all I ask

that day would never arrive

he would see eight dawns on that island

desperate for food he circumnavigated the shoreline

hearing the steady thud of drums the captain entered the jungle

unaware that he was being followed the whole way

the captain peered through the bushes into a native village

CRACK – nothing but stars now

he would never wake from that sleep

next thing the captain would see is the white hills far beyond the towers

“I’m not sure how I died on that island, I suspect I was eaten by cannibals, it doesn’t matter regardless... I’ll never see my wife again”

on that thought he paused

I could see his spirit shatter inside

I wasn’t sure what to say

but I broke the silence anyway

“maybe she’s waiting for you at the top of the tower...”

yeah – maybe my love is waiting for me at the top of the tower

anything to keep us going

“yes maybe she is, anyhow we shouldn’t stop now, we have work to do!”

the captain was a strong man

I admired that in him

his efforts doubled after he told us his story

the weight having been lifted

my life continued on outside of this spirit world

I travelled further still

reaching distant lands I had only read about

trying different foods

bombarding the senses with information

enjoying aspects of the voyage – though still lonely

and as time past in differing degrees between my two worlds

the tower was being rebuilt faster than I expected

and people were arriving from different times and places

one – an old farmer

another - women without a home

others – enochian priest

tailors and carpenters

chefs and silversmiths

traders and mothers

men and women who all fought their battles

and defeated their own devil’s

I was amazed that so many different people were just like me

differing in experiences only – people are still very much alike

we all breathe

tread through mud puddles in the rain

show fascination when we discover our hands for the first time

laugh and cry

eat and sleep

drink and make love

show angst at puberty

see beauty in other people

all things

we are so much the same and yet we inflict so much pain on each other

a paradox in humanity

one to be pondered until I draw my last breath

but I know now why I loved people and had love for all people

when we all work together in harmony we can achieve so much...

before long the last brick of the tower was laid

and we all let out a cheer for the great struggle we had overcome

and with that cheer the tower seemed to solidify itself

and an aura of white light grew around it

not only had the white tower been rebuilt – it looked better than it did before it fell

it was if our work together had made the tower stronger than ever

we all said our farewells

the captain and I had waited till last

almost not wanting to part company after the many hours spent together

we shook hands

then I motioned him towards the door

he bowed and then made his way up

that’s when I noticed the condemned man sitting down off to the side

“its time to go”

he looked away

“its ok... I’ll stay here”

I could see he wasn’t ready to forgive himself

“what will you do now?”

“I’ll go back... it’s my punishment, I’ll face it... it’s the least I could do”

but he didn’t do it

I knew he didn’t...

it didn’t matter

he would rot in that prison

his purpose had died that night

and there was nothing I could say or do...

that was eternal love

then I started

the stairs made a noise like hands clapping

and as I increased my pace it got louder

I knew what lay above – Nirvana

and I wanted to get there so bad that my stomach ached

CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!

almost there

CLAP!

I opened my eyes

nothing but white

they focused and I noticed that I was staring at the ceiling

“damn”

why can’t I reach those last three steps without waking?

why am I still here when Nirvana lay waiting for me

the clock spun its hands

whirling in its own satisfaction

the most brilliant mime telling time

I sat up in bed

tonight I fly to the Canary Islands

a postponement from Africa yes – but a postponement nonetheless

the game was delayed due to rain

my favourite type of delay

I would run out into the streets and kiss the sky on the forehead

you beautiful saint you

saint cloud of rain

leaving this thirsty land a little less thirsty

showing us humans the world still loves us

banish that pagan thought

I was born part Celt

freedom loving people

kindred of nature

with fire in their hearts

it’s the Celt that flows strong in my veins

pushing other backgrounds aside

I feel more welcome to my Celtic blood

I have more respect for those who hold deep spiritual reverence to the land

than those who don’t

some try to live with it – and others try to change it to suit their needs

but you can’t control something pure and wild

just try to tame a tornado

it will destroy you

if we can’t live with nature we will soon find nature’s remedy

something too bitter to swallow

all that water below

Island specks

nothing before men

nothing after

I stepped onto the tarmac

walked the league to the terminal

mind wandering to the tower again

my mystery to be solved

nothing worse than a puzzle to keep me occupied

evil riddle be gone

alas it would not

so I got onto the bus into town

twenty minutes of torture

the body wanting sleep

it was three am before I had directions I needed

and I headed away from the station

shadows masking me

the air sub-tropical and breathable

maybe I could live here

no evidence contrary

sweet contrary mind

strayed between alleys

dodging the map-ways

guiding paths

two more miles

clouds appeared as if the gods should shower pestilence upon these islands

“damn”

I never carry an umbrella...

one sharp turn

and then another

I ended this waltz underneath a shelter

three drenched Spaniards joined me

“ole”

“buenos nochas”

they conversed with me...

and then noticed I didn’t speak Spanish

one looked to the other

then the other

a cold dearth I felt before that moment

SCHIK!

their blades drawn

I shook my head

maybe that’s the only thing they understood

no one wants to go this way

red rose – blood on the pavement

my Celt blood mixed with the cold rain

could I remain if I wanted to – maybe

but I understood now the price to enter the tower

this body could only go so far before it became a cage

their stabbing knives

bitter demise

like horrid keys opening the gate of the soul

I felt the pain for two minutes

and then biological ecstasy for several seconds

PUMP! PUMP! PUMP!

...

the heart stopped

my eyes opened to the white before me

I stepped forward.

now I am free.

copyright 2006 by David R Lyons.