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Tir na nOg

21 September 2008

Peaceful Poverty

Walking the streets of this city at night
Cast your eyes to the reality, the plight.
In dark corners, sleeping under boxes,
Lies and old man living wild like foxes.

Trapped in the terrifying honesty
Just left in the world with no amnesty.
His working life as someone's property
Now we look on at peaceful poverty.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Arcane Blue

I dream in arcane blue
As stars, begin to shine
In sleep, I feel your love
As hearts, entwine in grace
I touch the night above.

I dream in arcane blue
Of days that fled the moon
In hope that I will find
The one to stand my side
And walk the same long wynd.

I dream in arcane blue
Then skip to clouds on high
Embrace the lights that shine
Within the pulse of night
And know my hand is thine.

I dream in arcane blue
Oh Goddess queen of all
Thy love has made me one
A torch upon my path
A life now free and done.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Truth

Truth is purity.
Truth feels like a soft downy feather.
Truth smells of citric fruit on a warm day.
Truth looks like a baby.

Truth sounds like a breeze in the trees.
Truth tastes like polo mints.
Truth is the mother of trust.
Truth keeps the heart clean.

Truth sleeps with the angels.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

17 September 2008

Waves of Tides

The marine world. A place beyond Man's eye
When life was free from Man's destructive way.
The waves of tides marked time with a soft sigh
In peace as oceans smiled, a perfect day.

The invasions came and seas were abused
A dumping ground for Man's poisonous hand.
Now oceans are dying, discarded and used
Joining the acrid existence of wasteland.

All life is transient, drifting towards death,
A journey to a place hidden from sight,
But without clean air there can be no breath,
No clarity as darkness consumes light.

As the seas demise and trees suffocate
The world lies murdered with no advocate.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

The Angel Of Death

She waits in shadows on edges of life
Her scythe to gather souls at rest beside.
Angel of death, how we resist her knife.
Yet 'tis her hand which guides our spirit ride.

The whispers silent, darkened wings take flight
A revelation's peace now found in fear.
She leads the spirit out of blinding sight
Where songs are sung that ears will never hear.

Upon the naked fields where spirits still lie
The wisdom of Ancients passed among the stone.
She waits, we wander blindly passing by
She knows one day we will see and atone.

We mortals are nothing but dust on Earth,
Life is a mere flash in the breath of time.
A spark amid a burning flame since birth,
She knows with grace our fires will seek to glow.

In triumph she sails to glorious lands
As breaths of freedom release the tired soul,
And once we meet the Elysium sands
The time of flight as the spirit comes whole.

Blessed Be!


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

One Tree, Four Seasons


I. Spring

First tender embrace brings warmth;
vernal caresses that brought souls from death;
undeveloped fountains of fertility
attire my unkempt, naked limbs;
sweet hearted blossoms,
subtle; delicate; light;
once more, I feel life.

II. Summer

Initial enticing touches turn in heated lust;
in you growth and fulfilment flourish,
nectar brings emergence of procreation;
petals fall, fruits of love grow;
dark, heavy, branches giving shade,
hunger; thirst; dreams;
entwined long hazy days.

III. Autumn

Cooling breezes coat vibrant hues;
yielding mature and mellow seed,
garlands red and gold shimmer
rays fading to night;
warm embrace releasing me;
falling tears scattered on ground
chills beckon with sleep.

IV. Winter

Bare naked alone wild limbs dance,
frosted gales the rhythm;
bleak white blankets cover land,
boughs heavy lay broken;
yet dancing hopeful to feel one touch,
brief non-existent carom;
waiting for your return.

Love and passion over four seasons
Between tree of spirit and Sun king.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Exposed Senses

She wept as a bride sat on the edge of winds,
her senses raw to emotional dreams.
Her mouth quenched by bitter tragedy,
the sweetness of lemons would have kinder taste.
Her eyes see clearly the blurring figures,
illusions of reality quest in her mind.
The scent clouds of burning ice and fire,
tremble as she inhales in sobs of hunger.
Her fingers grip in futility of a gesture
grasping the strands of the nothing that remains.
The anguished screams making music in her ears
melodious cries formed in the heaving light.
Pubescent energies foretell of the will to be
in a world of contradiction and strife.
Entrapped by the senses and deprivation
a web of perception in fantasy's realm.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Dreams of Summer Love

From airport to hotel and beach,
Come thoughts of holiday romance.
Eyes meet and drink as fingers teach,
Amidst the dreams of summer love.

The passion intense, the feelings real,
Two hearts in union, sipping wine.
Sun tanning days, lust moments steal,
Amidst the dreams of summer love.

Two weeks go fast, back on the plane,
Undying love declared goodbye.
Promises of letters in vain,
Amidst the dreams of summer love.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

7 September 2008

Ballad of Sir Jeff

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

The shining waistcoats your defence
They come and lay the curse.
They write while questing for suspense
The dragons of free verse.

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

So gather shields of metered rhyme
Be firm with iamb feet.
Release spondaic darts in time
To save the poet's seat.

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

The fiery breath of random word
Descends the walls of verse
And cause the sonnet, now absurd,
To flow a little terse.

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

Sir Jeff, is he legend or myth?
From iambic wizards
He used his magic poet gift
As flow defeated lizards.

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

And when he sleeps in mermaid dreams
Inside dark fantasy.
The rhyme and rhythm are the seams
And words of ecstasy

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

The quest is done time for PG
And scones with cream and jam.
A mug of brew his cup of tea
And his feet are iamb.

Oh knight in shining armour stand
A watch on rhymes and flows.
A lance of words is in your hands
As meter's glory glows.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Aftermath


After the war lands list lifeless and grey
The men return like melodic zombies.
Battle weary and beaten like dulled clay
All victims of conflicts between the Tshombes.

The women have no hope in their soulless eyes
Devoid of emotion, no will to care.
The cruel loyalty of endless sighs
As loved ones fail to appear, none will share.

A child in confusion is war's toll.
Father slain by a bullet, left to die.
Mother raped by grief, it's taken her soul.
Such anger breeds inside, the next war cry.

When will the lessons of peace be given
As anger for vengeance remains in mind.
The rage for war is endlessly driven.
Are we destined to remain always blind.

Tshombe: Tribal chief

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

4 September 2008

Avalon Calls




I gazed in awe upon the azure skies
And watched the worlds above align for me
The spirits wove on Earth where darkness lies
The threads of nature into tapestry

An ancient king surveys the hillside view
He guards the gate of hallowed temple ground
As magic joins with life in arcane blue
The keys to Avalon fall without sound.

As dreams subside and I awake mid stone
And hear the words each says to set me free
A message from the gods for man "atone"
The stones speak in their ancient tongue to me

I feel the flames of sin in pain of burns
Then peace as Avalon at last returns.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.