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23 July 2008

Handfast Pledge


My Beloved I give you my heart
To entwine with yours from this day
As we join and become one
My path will be beside you all the way

My Beloved I give you my honour
It is you My Beloved that I trust
As the years roll by our love will grow
Times change we together will never fall to dust

My Beloved I give you myself
In our joyous and blessed handfast
To souls in union, one ring binds us
A love never ending, all eternity we will last

My Beloved I give you my love
No conditions, it is yours for all time
Beside you and with you I want to be
Tenderness and grace our lives we entwine

My Beloved I give you all that I am
Precious and blessed by the Goddess above
Mind Body Spirit and Blood
One together bound in Her tender love

As we stand united amongst the Stones
There circle all around us, where we belong
My Beloved my dream lover
With you I am safe from the world's wrong

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Intuitive

Syllabic: in·tu·i·tive

Pronunciation: in-
tyoo-i-tiv

Definition: 1. perceiving by intuition, as a person or the mind.
  2. perceived by, resulting from, or involving intuition: intuitive knowledge.
  3. having or possessing intuition: an intuitive person.
  4. capable of being perceived or known by intuition..

The senses we trust to keep us in tune
A touch can burn or it can caress
Sight and hearing give us the pleasures of
Art and music both joys of sweet tenderness

Smell and taste are both vital
Scents of flowers, tastes all so bitter sweet
The inner sense that I should rely on most
Intuitive trust myself I know my challenges I shall meet.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Williwaw

Syllabic: wil·li·waw

Pronunciation:
wil-ee-waw

Definition: a violent squall that blows in near-polar latitudes, as in the Strait of Magellan, Alaska, and the Aleutian Islands.

The kids are screaming at each other again
"Give me back my ipod" yells one
So loud, its like a knife piercing the brain
The ipod found peace returns briefly to our home

All to soon the shouting starts once more
Constant bickering from morning 'til night is the scene
Its a war zone, an endless battle, a continuous williwaw
Oh the delights of being mum to a pair of teens.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Incompatible

Syllabic: in·com·pat·i.ble

Pronunciation: in-kuhm-
pat-uh-buhl

Definition: not compatible; unable to exist together in harmony

Desire and lust were in control
Irrational urges, disregarding the reality
Logic went flying, fleeing from my brain
Satisfying my need, the only tranquility

Wrong so very wrong, believe you me
Nothing would change the one obvious fact
Like chalk and cheese, we were incompatible
It was all a dream, all a meaningless act.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

22 July 2008

Storm of Death


The air tastes fresh and clean after the storm
With skies still violent red in nature’s rage.
As clouds gather into a thunderous swarm
We rush to seek shelter from the carnage.

Who sees the butterfly, she’s lost alone,
A flutter of wings as rain starts once more.
She is battered by speed of the cyclone
Crushed, she falls down, dazed, helpless on the floor.

Flashes of blue, death comes in lightning’s strike
A soul claimed that instant by reaper’s hand.
A mere morsel speared upon icy spike
Did she see the vision of ethereal land?

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Rebellion

After weeks of stress and unstress,
losing it completely
I'm saying to hell with it
I WANT TO BREAK FREE.

No rhyme and no flow
(cover's ears of the Jeff)
and yes no bloody meter
I can be me.

A way with form
who gives a stuff
when words are what counts.

So keep the uniform
write me a damn sonnet
but not today
make it free, make it free.

Metaphors be damned
its all an oxymoron
today just let it be.

No scanning no beans
just words on paper in ink
and you bet ya ass
it feels good.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Gateway to the Skies


I see the gateway lit above the clouds
To worlds that lie beyond my dreaming eyes.
The place he waits for me.
His face behind soft billows of wisp shrouds
Until I take his hand and reach the skies
Then once more love is free.

And yet my dream is here beside me now
I feel his touch, I hear his voice and sigh
Why can’t I see you too?
Open space in heart as left beneath the bough
I do need you but I am left to cry
Because I ain’t got you.

I Love you dad

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

21 July 2008

A Sonnet for Sue


The poet girl is something pure
He says a sonnet write for Sue
That simply does not work for you
A pretty kyrielle I’m sure.

Friendship is often the best cure
My friend, a sister in my heart
She writes fine words that is her art
A pretty kyrielle I’m sure.

Tainted minds together endure
Dark moments come into the light
At last, my world has somewhere bright
A pretty kyrielle I’m sure.

The poet girl is something pure
A pretty kyrielle I’m sure
.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

From Fruit to Linen Cloth


As juices flow from fruit to linen cloth
So has the poet guided written word
His hand the one that trapped an aimless moth
And made her write in ways that can be heard.

A seed he took and planted in her mind
With tender hand he nurtured through her fight
One day he knew her meter, his to find,
A love of rhyme and flow now in his sight.

She did resist, a block to this his way
A frosty glance at meter yelling no
She writes in free, against all that he say
He watched, a guiding word in ear of Crowe

The poet Jeff my mentor, guide and friend
My thanks, I got the meter in the end.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

20 July 2008

Enchanted Dreams

Lost and found in enchanted dreams,
There is a world beyond the sky.
Where you are found by honeyed sigh
And none will ever hear your screams.
A beauty held in silken seams,
Bereft of hope you can but lie
And wait for love to free the tie,
So you can dance with the moon beams.

He has you in a grip of vice.
Caught in strands of his vampire charm.
With none that hear warning’s alarm,
Alone again his touch like ice.

A vibrant dream, you want to wake!
Before you feel his anger rake.
Escape his hold before you sink
Or will he keep you at this brink.

‘Come my pretty, return to me,’
Stay in this dark and endless night.
Savour the passion at your feet,
In a vampire’s realm you are free.
Living in shadows, never light,
Taking the blood of prey you meet.

The battle of love beauty fights,
Or does she yield to his cold grasp?
Does hope still remain in her sights?

Beauty sees good beyond hell’s rasp,
A heart that lies within the dark
Her hand can touch, release the clasp

She finds her love open and stark,
On him she left her fatal mark.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

The Wedding Wand


If you go down the lakeside way,
There is a fairy ring,
So come and watch the fun this day
And see the Elfin King.

The fairies dance with steps so small.
And pixies waltz in pairs.
The night of nights, the elfin ball,
A time to lose all cares.

The tiny folk adorned in silk
Of finest weave and hue,
Are drinking cups of honey milk
And wait for music’s cue.

A ball to find the king a bride,
A love in magic light.
A queen in lore to take his side
And throne in regal flight.

A dance with clover scented Rose
Incites his eye to look,
She moves with grace to take her pose
And walk beside the brook.

A word of love declares the bond
The pair now join the thong,
A ring is cast by wedding wand
And this will end my song.

If you go down the lakeside way,
There is a fairy ring,
So come and watch the fun this day
And see the Elfin King


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

19 July 2008

The Winter of Light


As shards of blue the rays reach out
The stars of Yuletide night.
The midday moon reveals a pout
Here is the winter's light.

I call my love as Yuletide comes
And hold his hand in mine.
We dance to winter’s beating drums,
Around the season's pine.

As shards of blue the rays reach out
The stars of Yuletide night.
The midday moon reveals a pout
Here is the winter's light.

O hail the Holly King in song
That voices start to sing
A winter night that is so long
As we exchange a ring.

As shards of blue the rays reach out
The stars of Yuletide night.
The midday moon reveals a pout
Here is the winter's light.

To dance and sing is just the start
My lord beneath the bough
My love and me as one in heart
At Yule we made our vow.

As shards of blue the rays reach out
The stars of Yuletide night.
The midday moon reveals a pout
Here is the winter's light.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

18 July 2008

Crying From Behind the Wall


Can you see a wall in front of me?
That holds me tight never to be free.
A world in seclusion
It is no illusion
That wall will remain inside of me.

No bricks just pain and torture inside
In this dark place, I have to reside.
No freedom, no release
It will never decrease.
Ripped in half, sanity is denied.

Fear of happiness being a sign
That my mind is about to decline
To pits of regression
That is my depression
Often of life, I want to resign.

Bi polar the label, marks my soul
It’s only the drugs that make me whole
Lithium the answer
Like morphine to cancer
It is just a way of pain control.

Release me from this hell, let me fall
I’m tired of my life behind this wall
Always lost and alone
All my dreams come undone
One day I will be free of it all.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

17 July 2008

We Don't Need No Segregation!







The seats are full, the tension high
A guitar string and I could fly
I’m sat eager for the first beat
For the pulse of rock music’s heat

That night the wall came down will stay
In our minds as Floyd start to play
Berlin was one city once more
The bass throb vibrates in the floor.

Heroes of rock perform tonight
The songs we know were our delight.
‘Is anybody out there’ the call
Cyndi's ‘Nother brick in the wall.’

She’s in my arms as flames are lit
The band perform another rock hit.
Water’s voice brings an ovation
Now two at last are one nation.

The album still the best of all
A classic for so long, ‘The Wall.’
It’s always been the only one
To leave me ‘Comfortably Numb.’

Sinead takes the stage for ‘Mother’
Why can Man not see a brother?
We are one race under one sky
It is time for this hate to die!

If one voice will ever be heard
Let it be in peace, just that word.
I am but one part of the wall,
Just another brick all in all.



© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

16 July 2008

What is Rhyme?


The dictionary defines rhyme
As words sounding the same when said.
It is not so easy this time.
So get that thought out of my head.

There are now many types to learn
Rhymes that are rich, or meet an eye
As I study and candle burn,
A poet, will that soon be I?

Identical, true, assonant,
Imperfect just like you and me.
Scarce is so rare, then consonant,
All rhymes that now exist for me.

So a poem about rhyme for you
As I sit hearing falling rain.
Not beneath the churchyard’s broad yew
Or on a speeding city train.

Its been hard to learn real tough,
And I probably got it wrong,
I just hope I pull this one through,
Now that my brain is worn and wrung.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

14 July 2008

Curriculum Vitae

A student of classics that is me
Never intended to write the words
That inspire me to draw and paint
A poet, no not me.

There once was a writer called Jem
The best of her erotica made one ‘ahem’
Much to her shame
She has quit that game
OK she still writes some of them.

A student of classics that is me
Never intended to write the words
That inspire me to draw and paint
A poet, no not me.

Nonsense verse that makes sense.
A love of Lear comes forth.
Dribbles and drabbles so intense
Like winds that bite from the north
Botherswipes that get in the way,
Grumblewits that say grow up now,
An inner child is at her play,
To keep her alive is my vow.

A student of classics that is me
Never intended to write the words
That inspire me to draw and paint
A poet, no not me.

The rule of play now is a beat,
To give poems rhythm and flow,
The meter gives a verse some feet,
And words now glow.

A student of classics that is me
Never intended to write the words
That inspire me to draw and paint
A poet, no not me.

The sonnet, long has been my muse in art
My dearest Shelley now lies in my heart
As paint and I unite with words of love
Like minds in time, a creative team above.

He died before his time in foreign sea,
He comes alive in paint and board with me.
'Though he was born two hundred years ago
In all his work I see my world on show

I paint and try to think as Shelley thought
The rebel of a Lord in Scouser's art
I use my talent and the skills I'm taught
But mostly I just paint a poet's heart

I want to try to paint away my rage
He used a pen to put his on the page.

A student of classics that is me
Never intended to write the words
That inspire me to draw and paint
A poet, no not me.

Words can be art, an image paint,
A poem can set feelings free,
Emotions with colour acquaint
A poet of sorts I will be.

Creation of art on paper,
Arts form a union inside me,
It really is quite a caper
A poet of sorts I will be

I am learning meter and rhyme
As part of classic poetry,
Flowing like paint, I hope, in time
A poet of sorts I will be.

A student of classics that is me
Never intended to write the words
That inspire me to draw and paint
A poet, no not me.

P oetry and art combine
A midst my blood, they entwine.
I magination and creativity
N eeds that make me who I am
T alented, probably not,
I am not conceited that way.
N ow and then inspired
G uess that is nearer the truth.

P eripatetic, with no line limit,
O verview of my poetic
E xperience you want,
T his is it … thus far.

A student of classics that is me
Never intended to write the words
That inspire me to draw and paint
A poet, no not me.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

12 July 2008

11 July 2008

Fe-Line


Fe-line by =Painting-Poet on deviantART

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

From the Garden


From the Garden by =Painting-Poet on deviantART

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

10 July 2008

Pride


Pride by *Painting-Poet on deviantART

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

8 July 2008

For the Love of a Vampire


In love I lose myself to Echo beach
The moon now sits within my needing reach.
The days pass too slowly ‘til I can return
To his arms so that our passion can burn.

A kiss lingers sweeping me from my feet
Left in daylight’s darkness until we meet.
Ignite the flame for his tender lips’ bite
A little of my blood makes him feel right.

Limbs twist to his demand to meet his need
Dazed in his love as he takes nightly feed.
Flight to the clouds, with his love I am free
A life immortal as fate said would be.

The love of a vampire carries no end
As Incubus and Succubus ascend.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

7 July 2008

Un Cafe a Paris



I sat alone in the café
A glass, house red in front of me,
My thoughts drift to that day in May
Waiting for my Parisian.

In love we walked by the river
As city lights glimmer all night,
The promise, now would deliver,
Waiting for my Parisian.

Time ticks by so painfully slow,
The right place, our place as before.
Eyes glance to the clock, will he show?
Waiting for my Parisian.

Sunsets over Sacre Coeur’s view,
Thoughts entwine with the reddened sky,
On the breeze, I pray they reach you,
Waiting for my Parisian.

My mind hears your voice sing in French,
How this English girl fell in love,
My lost dreams of romance will quench,
Waiting for my Parisian.

As the bells of Notre Dame Ring,
Eyes glance one last time at the door,
And my heart in joy starts to sing
He’s here, my own Parisian.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

6 July 2008

Playing the Blues


As moonlit midnight skies drift in wonder
To the dawn of the new sapphire sunrise,
My dreams turn to the muse that lies yonder,
My brush seeks out her cerulean eyes.

The artist lost to her cold heart of steel,
As paint so creates the cloudless figures.
My indigo tears flow, each stroke I feel
Of portrayals, she greets with snide sniggers.

The muse tears my soul with cobalt nails
Every one of my senses wears a bruise.
Artist with windless ultramarine sails
So now I am just sat, playing the blues

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

In the Quatrains of Death


Death is here and Death is with me,
Dark angel I alone can see
She surrounds, inside, below,
She is Death and I shall go.

Death has her hand upon my skin,
On all I am in my own sin.
This I know and this I feel,
Death my lady - you are real.

First, my desires pass to her hand,
My dreams, my tears, just grains of sand,
They are dead, my time is due
So alone I perish too.

The things I love and hold so dear
Will die with me and pass from fear
Life is harsh all things must rot
Love is death, or is it not?

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Hail Holy Queen


In silver lunar, light divine,
As by the Ancients cast foreseen,
A message I could not decline,
Hail Holy Queen!

In one with Mother Nature’s light
The Balance I have found in You
My trust and fate I give tonight,
May I walk true

To use Your power as a gift
And only ever with Your good will.
For the lives of others to lift
And in free will.

My honour to You and myself
As You dwell deep within my soul,
May I be strong and in good health
In You I’m whole.

Dedicated to share and heal,
A life in Magick now begun.
This is the Truth, I deeply feel
I am Pagan.

May I act in Your love and light,
And let Your grace nurture in me,
So my Inner Spirit takes flight
So it shall be.

Blessed be

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

A Writer's Rage


Yet another typo missed by the spell check
Draft after draft I have to type again
My fingers move faster than a hen’s peck
Or get judge’s comments full of disdain.

Proofreading screams at mistakes in grammar
The anger I feel is building up inside
Start again I don’t want all the drama
Just so editors won’t push me aside.

Yet more errors to infuriate me
Hours spent in front of the glaring screen.
I’m now going to be late home for tea,
Patience all gone, it’s now a has been.

System failure its now quite grotesque
That is how my keys ended in the desk

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

July 8th


For July 8th I have just one wish
To spend an hour with Percy Bysshe
To hear him speak and share a while
Maybe even see my hero smile.

His works of beauty, I have them all
Words from a romantic that often call.
Magic images that release my mind
So much inspiration for a painter to find.

Verses of love that quench the heart
With sweetness of a man and his art.
For July 8th I have just one wish
To spend an hour with Percy Bysshe

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.