My Books

assorted books on shelf

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Since my time began
These paper-pallid treasures
Have mirrored my journey
Have been my journey
Life’s loved luggage
My mind’s mainstay
Collected and cosetted
Divided sub-divided
Arranged and ordered
Guarded and bound
Glanced at and absorbed
Ravaged and discarded
My bulwark against reality
Whilst being my reality
Promising me a solid future
Proving their worth
whilst bolstering my own

 

Adding to the sum

of all I’ve drunk,

Those words I’ve feasted on

Swollen into my life’s core

Embodied now as part of me

Woven into the coarseness of my fabric

Sold to receptive ears

Refined by other germs of passage

Now become the amalgam that is me

And part of every book I’ve ever read.

 

 

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I Am Roland

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Statue of Roland at Metz railway station, France.

I AM ROLAND

I am Roland 
or I have become him
created the myth of Mr Keld
opportunity taken 
I have procured my host’s mind 
now an alien presence
absorbed into this foreign body
diverting thoughts 
rebuilding a past 
guessing at a further future 
a variant stated truth 
inhabiting a different reality
masking neutrality
approval seeking
in a subsumed persona
a manufactured myth
ambushed by his muse
Roland of Roncevaux
reconvened
brandishing Durendal
to fight new battles
forever a mask
behind which to hide 
a second rate hero
his fable exposed
another fiction
masquerading as truth

 

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My Fantasy

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MY  FANTASY

 

I’ve lived outside my fantasy
But now I’m moving in
Reality removes itself 
No chance I’ll let it win

The safe distance I have kept
Recedes, becomes the past, 
And dreams become the truth for me
My day has dawned at last

Life and love are now as one
Merging desire and hope 
Becoming all that promise meant
Ensuring I will cope.

 

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The Borderlands of POETRY – 3

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PART THE THIRD

 

Poetry bestrides the boundary
Between certainty and supposition
Between what I know to be true
And what I know not
For imagination conducts me into new worlds
Lands of hope
Of surmise and conjecture
Where speculation surmounts reality
Where inference and suggestion rule
And life is vibrant and ever vital

 

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MIND GAMES

Mind Games -WHB-Feb2018

MIND GAMES

Enigmatic
Covert
Whimsical and wild
Such are the games I play
Whilst mentally beguiled

Hidden within poetry
In discursive verse
My clandestine love affairs
Short
intense
And terse

Give to me a reason
Why thus I can’t express
My mind’s adventurous spirit
My need to seek excess

To open up
Revealing all
Whilst midst the subterfuge
My ego seeks adrenaline
A haven
A refuge

Its all a nonsense
Words at play
Fending off my fears
Seeking to screen my inner hurt
Reality kept at bay

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spooky

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MIND GAMES

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‘Mind Games’ … WHB – 1956

MIND  GAMES

 

Enigmatic
Covert
Whimsical and wild
Such are the games I play
Whilst mentally beguiled

Hidden within poetry
In discursive verse
My clandestine love affair
Short
intense
And terse

Give to me a reason
Why thus I can’t express
My willingness to capture
My need to seek excess

To open up
Revealing all
Whilst midst the subterfuge
My ego seeks adrenaline
A haven
A refuge

It’s all a nonsense
Words at play
Fending off my fears
Seeking to screen my inner hurt
reality kept at bay

 

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Death Is An Unmapped Sea

IntoTheUnknown

Photo:  ‘On Chesil Beach’ by WHB – 2007   ©

 

Death is an Unmapped Sea

Day dawns and life now reasserts its sway;
Sleep ends and dreams now slowly fade away,
Leaving behind the gains which I thought real.
Reality and the sun the truth reveal,
That time has shattered youth and brought old age.
Shall I depart midst over-arching rage,
Those aspirations which I held most dear,
Abandoned now as hope gives way to fear?
Now that I’m hurt, unheard and unfulfilled,
Can I refute those truths my life distilled,
And face what unmapped seas fate holds in store,
Without a faith to bear me to the shore?

 

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My Inner Self

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‘Contemplation’ – Pen and Wash … WHB: August 2017

MY INNER SELF

In the private
life of my mind 
I am blind 
To all else 
But myself 
It is where I live 
And give 
To no one 

Escaping pain
Selfish thoughts reign
I disdain
Those interruptions
Reality’s incursions 
Into my fenced off realm 
Where exist no qualms
Other than those I truly own
Unknown 
To all save me 

For here I am free 
Disconnected
From my overt life 
My true self’s bed
On which I have bled
A thousand wounds
Unstaunched
But healed within
This inner cache
Hard ego shell
Learned defence
Against reality
And the imperative thrust
of time and circumstance
Looking always for 
That memory trace
That state of grace
To which I aspire. 

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THE REAL WORLD

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‘Planet Earth’ . . .  WHB – 1956

THE REAL WORLD

An Attempted Discourse

 

You do annoy me at times

And why is that?

Because I think you are losing touch with reality

What makes you think that?

Because the things you do and say do not make sense

To you, maybe, but then I don’t think you are living in the real world yourself

What do you mean ‘the real world’?

‘Reality’

Is that where you live then?

Well, it’s much more real than yours

How do you know that?

Because I use my reason and all my senses.  You don’t.

And how do you know that I don’t?

Because what you do does not make sense

But that’s what I just said to you

Well, I’m saying it now – to you.

But you can’t do that – I started this argument

What argument?

The one we’re having now

No, we aren’t

You see – that’s just what I mean.  You are not being real

Well, I think I am

I just don’t think so

Well, you’d be wrong

Why should you be right and me wrong?

Because you aren’t living in the real world.

 

Oh . . .   Get real!

 

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