Mostly Harmless

The hapless, tea-drinking moppet from Earth
Hadn’t a clue he was just a glitch of software
The science of white mice decried his birth
As the Vogon’s blast left him threadbare
Save for the friend by the name of Ford
Who gave him a towel for the trip to space
Tortured by Vogon poetry, no art of word
Here is a sample, translated at Babel fish’s place,

“See, see the scary sky
Marvel at its big pink depths.
Tell me, Larry Burns do you
Wonder why the sloth ignores you?
Why its foobly stare
makes you feel snumblefaced.
I can tell you, it is
Worried by your grumplingshinks facial growth
That looks like
A yoghurt.
What's more, it knows
Your caustic potting shed
Smells of old custard.
Everything under the big scary sky
Asks why, why do you even bother?
You don’t even charm old socks”

After that the dear fish died, no surprise,
And the tea-drinker and Ford were out with the trash
By odds so improbable its impossible to surmise
Zaphod caught the guys on the back lash.
Adventures were made and the Earth’s reason found
A computer its said to work out the question, just one
The meaning of life, the universe and everything is sound
The answer is 42 but what was the problem to be done

It’s bothered me since the radio days
When that psychotic robot started gripping
A manic depressive with  miserable ways
I’m there on my bed thinking I’m tripping
There must be answers but mother called me for tea
With a frown and a moan I have to switch off
With wishes for a knack for Vogon poetry
Dedicated as is their way to mother… cough, cough

Now I think I have solved it at last, I’m free
At 42, the question must quite simply be me.

Nuff said!!!
© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

Just Three Words

Three little words I found too hard to say,
I was wrong and withheld a simple truth,
Afraid to see rejection in your eyes,
Without poetics and eloquent words,
I saw your pain and bitterly regret,
I failed to say 'I love you'; I'm sorry.

For all the times I made you cry; sorry,
'I don't want to hurt you,' I hear me say,
Yet now I live with remorse and regret,
My rage hurt the one I love, that's the truth,
Engaged in battles of burning cruel words,
I'd die when your heart broke within your eyes.

The love once mine shone from those moonlight eyes,
All lost to time and I'm left with sorry,
To memories of my own poison words,
The things a girl should never hear or say,
If only you could see what is still truth,
Instead I face never ending regret.

From bitter envy to seas of regret,
Fed by tears that wept from your dying eyes,
I killed the love you gave me for my truth,
I never grasped the strength to be sorry,
Nor spoke the love you wanted me to say,
If only I could have found precious words.

'I love you' three beautiful little words,
I never told you, my only regret,
Too scared of things you might want me to say,
Afraid of the passion beneath your eyes,
Oh god baby do you know I'm sorry,
I was not able to face my heart's truth.

My fear to embrace love and not its truth,
I held back on sharing those heartfelt words,
My life too long to keep saying sorry,
I live drowning slowly in my regret,
I should have looked deep into your blue eyes,
'I love you, Gab' is all I had to say.

My love came with truth consoling regret,
So precious can words be when said with eyes,
I remain sorry I just couldn't say.
 

© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

It's Lilac if you Please

 

I've never seen a human bean
I worry why they don't see;
They assure you, I'm never seen,
Even glasses can't find me.

They ponder over purple cows
a variant of nature
whose beauty smiles, as she allows
my lilac hide a future.

© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

Integral Identity

I am found in all the worst places,
where angels fear to tread,
I'm denied for the saving of faces,
yet without me love lies dead.

Find me interred by conspiracy,
covered with fading patchwork lies,
disguised by laughing codes of piracy,
so often found in tortured lethargic cries.

Beguiled by confusion and ken,
I am the solution to deception,
the path to consolation and Zen,
a new born hope at conception.

I am basic and upstanding,
a strong integrity in entity,
I am open and commanding,
I have only honesty as identity.

I am truth.


© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

In Dreams

In dreams I wander close to you,
Through life our souls unite as one
In lunar light and morning dew
In dreams I wander close to you,
With wine and song, our love stands true
The boughs of oak give shade from sun
In dreams I wander close to you,
Through life our souls unite as one
Cascades of tender thoughts ensue
In dreams I wander close to you,
As love, that brings life fresh and new
Unions trust never undone
In dreams I wander close to you,
Through life our souls unite as one
© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

End of Twilight

Beyond the horizon the sun lies fallen
and stars have yet to show in glorious light;
The night's darkest hour has come with hidden sighs
of silent vampires.

The scent of flesh stalks the land with evil minds;
malign intentions hunting innocent blood
The living dead of noble descent feeding
on a virgin's vein.

Demonic caress leaves a sorrowful soul;
to mourn a passing dream of desire's touch;
Unholy spirit with a satanic heart;
Incubi by name.

Ever youthful, immortal with godless smiles,
bring ceaseless nightmares with a cold deathly touch
Resides in everlasting Cimmerian realm;
at End of Twilight.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Haunting Echoes

Sappho wrote her poetic metered stanza,
Lyrics penned for cantillate voices reeling,
Flowing songs from long ago haunting echoes.
Drifting from Greek Isle.

© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

Gift of a Book

I learned to read with Pooh and Piglet tales,
And hummed their hums of tiddley pom and snow.
I hunted Heffalumps with Tig and Roo,
And played with sticks in Hundred Acre Wood.

From childish games I found a mystic world,
In realms of fantasy reside my dreams,
Where fairies dance and magic gently calls,
The trolls oft roam beneath the sepia skies.

My mind is dun with crime and murder yarns,
A vampire's kiss to find a love's embrace,
Erotic tension cast in darkened hues,
My pleasures found inside a paperback.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Gabrielle

The turning hands on clocks will never heal,
my soul lies scarred and bleeding without you.
I feel you here and tears now blur my view,
my heart is lost the visions are too real.
A love so brief gave reason I should be,
and death that dreadful lie tore it away
My sun has set there'll be no other day
but in this moonlit dance we can be free.
Defying fate to drop the veil of night,
too soon to leave this life of hate and fear
I need you, darling once more hold me near,
and fill my life with love's anointing light.
I wait alone in this, my living hell
for you, my love, my darling Gabrielle.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

From Muse to Id

That dark lady I call my muse,
Angel of art inside my head.
My tears are shed as she sings blues,
That dark lady I call my muse.
Colours scheming in vibrant hues,
each time I lay there in my bed.
That dark lady I call my muse,
Angel of art inside my head.
Ideas float with static clues,
That dark lady I call my muse,
She brings them forth in words to use
In pictures tonal views are read.
That dark lady I call my muse,
Angel of art inside my head.

She holds me tight in vice-like grip,
yet tender is her sultry touch.
In thought, imagination’s trip
She holds me tight in vice like grip,
from her chalice I gently sip,
at first it all seems double Dutch
She holds me tight in vice-like grip,
yet tender is her sultry touch.
As words and art  meet my pen tip
She holds me tight in vice-like grip,
she guides the words that form on lip,
the ink on paper now my crutch
She holds me tight in vice-like grip,
yet tender is her sultry touch.

That dark lady I call my muse,
She holds me tight in vice-like grip,
Eases the way that I confuse,
That dark lady I call my muse.
Images once lost, now diffuse
and on paper they swiftly slip
That dark lady I call my muse,
She holds me tight in vice-like grip,
no longer words can I excuse,
That dark lady I call my muse,
As I dwell in fantasies views
I see I’m now her fingertip,
The dark lady I called my muse,
I hold me tight in vice-like grip.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Basic Instinct I and II

I

Air:
inhale;
exhale; breathe.
Pulse: living beat,
pump oxygen's breath;
circulate; energize.
Blood: red; protecting; caring;
veins searching through body's highways.
Existence persists through atmosphere.
Breathe: inhale; exhale; poisoned, polluted air.

 

II

Air:
draw in;
gasping breath;.
Pulsing heartbeat;
refreshing blood flows;
viscous vibrant streaming;
plasma's protective nurture;
veins coursing our human highways,
extant persistence through atmosphere.
Respire; gasps of defiled, befouled stained air.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

A Poet's Utensil

There once was a young man called Peter
Who wrote lines in poetic meter
His sonnet a story
That should have been gory
But turned out much nicer and sweeter

Inspired by the poets we follow
Whose meanings were sharp never hollow
But we are still yearning
For rhymes that we're learning
And therefore our verse seems to wallow

Next time you are sat with your pencil
remember it's Peter's old stencil
for lines that are flowing
and leave us all glowing
A form is a poet's utensil
© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

Eternal Bough

My love with softened voice so sweetly sings,
where flowers delicately bow and weep,
upon a floating cloud in beauty sleep,
without a care for life's temporal things.
Inspiring whispers trail supernal wings,
across the barren white thoughts gently creep,
to passions only love's dear heart can keep,
to bind two lives with golden wedding rings.
No joy compares to solemn marriage vow,
amity's torch will burn with growing flame,
along conjugal paths of lover's bliss,
that bring a promise of eternal bough,
betrothal seen delight in love proclaim,
and go to times when hearts will reminisce.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Dactyllic Nightmare

Horrible Harrible
Harriet Simpleton
terrifies poets with
portraits of meter

Innocent writers are
beaten to see that the
hexasyllabical
words are much neater

© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

Chains of Goodbye

Where love remains encased you'll find my heart,
Deny the sun as false delight and zeal,
In fondness crushed my love in stakes of art,
To leave my soul in vapours of torment,
Beyond the dream's enchantment they conceal,
The pain of passion lost without consent.

In darkest corners hidden from her view,
Consort to grief my broken heart will be,
Whilst dancing feet revolve love lies taboo,
Each spasm chafes a chastened heart to cry,
My tears that wash a sweet affair's debris,
The strength to break the chains of her goodbye.

Where love remains encased you'll find my heart,
In darkest corners hidden from her view.

© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

Dactyllic Tetrameter

Brilliant skies of surrealistic winter days,
Shades of grey lacking in cheer or delighting ways,
Mingle with vivid sighs, spring is arriving soon,
Icy the winds that recall the white snows of dune.

Children relay the intrigue of her mystery,
Seasons reclaim this awakening history,
Looking forward to rebirth of our Mother Earth,
Colour again will bedeck her ichorous girth.

Nature entices the eyes with exquisite dreams,
Winter white winds of elusive elation seems,
Out of our reach through belief in the living times,
Quickens consoling memories of springs eloquent and sublime. 

© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.

Cold Tranquility Descends

On winter's nights, so calm, so still,
the Goddess starts to sing,
a voice of warmth against the chill,
that touches mortal wing,
a moon lit beacon, over hill
and valley peace She'll bring.

This tranquil spot amid the stone,
the words of Ancient's call,
on moment passed from maid to crone,
where boulders remain tall,
and blighted frost inspires the tone,
embraced within prayer shawl.

My Goddess sits in skies serene,
amid the night's star light,
ponder Her gaze upon the scene,
Her love where hearts unite,
the gift of peace from heaven's Queen,
as souls on Earth delight.

 © Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.