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NAMING
What's in a name:
it is but a tendril
of mist in the morning
vanishing with the sun.
It cloaks much
and much we give it
often to hide
our uncertainty
our lack of knowledge
our arrogance
and pretension of ownership
For that which is
will silently steal away
and we will hold
an empty box
But at this
a wayward tendril
small
unseen
had lain against my heart
and now it whispered:
" This
is no empty box or flat;
it is your window-box"
And my new crop of chilis
giggled like children
in their pots
and so did I.
And that I
of I
needs no name:
it is there
within
the laughter.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
BREATH
And retreating Winter
in his death throes
throws a last Cold
like a doomed gambler
And the bear breathes out that last of old
as so do I
and both we wait
till my feet are once again
upon the Way
and breathing in the first of New
when I go past that stone
I made my marker
in so many lives
ago.
Walk soft
stay safe
and as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
THE MOON AND HUNGER
a new moon hangs
like an old dusk's
stranger child
this spring
in a pale of blue
faded out of a washed lino floor
getting ready
for new footfalls
The wind is high and hard
cold
northerly
but I
want the south
to warm
and bring the swifts
my sprites
that will have flown
across Iberia
and the grapes
to capture sun
and ease my soul
at end of day.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
my sprites
MUSING
I light a stub of candle
and watch the sun go down
as my life
flies round in circles
on the rims of time unbound
I light some joss
and smell the smoke
to sanctify
the hour
as power of past
engulfs the now
and night
begins to flower
as last of gulls
has seaward fled
and stars
create a bower
for my sleep.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
You reminded me of a photo a friend took while touring South America in 2019. It is of a tile with the lyrics (in Spanish) from a song by G. Coria Penaloza, which I attach here.i hope to recommence vdlp sep this year having struggled from malaga to merida some years ago. hopefully i will fly into sevilla and then train up to merida. the poetry will be written as i go. i have one more eye op to go and then i can start to train hard. i am not a good photographer and i really liked windswepts contribution so the poems are for me and all those befuddled about not only why they go a camino but always come back to it!
I am a long way
from who I am
and even further
from who I was
who I will be
heaven knows
I wear the tattoo
of the rose
the seeker's badge
of time and space
a distant point
on the homeward race
to who I am
yours,
The Malingerer
A tardy hi and thank you!You reminded me of a photo a friend took while touring South America in 2019. It is of a tile with the lyrics (in Spanish) from a song by G. Coria Penaloza, which I attach here.
A tardy hi and thank you!
MI CORAZON PERDIDO
....it grows smaller
hiding
as the wings of leaving
flutter
each time I hold you
ere departing
You are my sun
and I need the warmth
to bring again
mine own unfolding
like the lark
of morning
and the first rose.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya con Dios
Samarkand
Written for someone I care about deeply
and yet
encapsulates also
my feelings about Camino.
IRONIES
the gulls of morning
drink the rain
before
in slow circles
descending
on the green of park
to ambush worms
escaping
flooded holes:
and I think
Irony
to escape the
gulley
and fall into a gullet.
But Memory
and Camino
combine
to lay a nugget
at my feet
the gold
of
yester
day
when rain
and wind
did push me on
and life for me
was footstep
on The Way.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
COLOUR
And the gull
dips her wingtip
like a fine-haired brush
in
to the pot of sun
and childlike
draws some squiggles
in the sky
to contain
the duvet clouds
of white
so that light between them
shines
amongst the grey
of showers
to remind me
of the night
when shepherds lit the vault
to fire
like a sundown Sistine chapel
of delight.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
TIMESRESONANCE
I am
as a reed
played by
The Great Winds
of
Time and Space
that sometimes
softly blow
upon my way
to where
I sit
and drink the wine
that sun
made music
might fill the soul
and tales
be whispered
to the heart.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
TIMES
Raindrops
falling like dots
each one a world
and yet they join
to form a word
called Now
where Universes are born
and die
within
the cloud of being
lit by thunder
rapt
in Light.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
WINTER'S ORPHAN
Sullen
and angry the sky
this dusk
like the last
of winter's orphans
tormenting the spring
and making summer wail
as would a bullying child
in a shattered park
I do not see my swifts
and call them
"Come!
and bring your sickle wings
to reap the clouds
and harvest sun
that I might warm
my dreams".
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
EXCHANGES
And day
slow
hands in her colours
to approaching night
who sends in the guardians
robed
in darkest blue
black
and then the blue black
of approaching dawn.
My swifts
care not
and retain their
sickle winged blackness
as they scythe
the harvest sky
to build up muscle
store energy
and chivvy their young
to prepare
for south
and leaving.
They will however
fly over my
Iberia
Camino
and we will wish each other
well
when e'er we pass.
"Buen Camino ! "
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
REFUGEE
I re-read TOLKIEN
and
THE TWO TOWERS
with mighty tales
of heroes
clad in gold
and wielding swords of power
and yet
through it all
I see a face
REFUGEE
limping
too old to run
leaning on a staff
and on her back
a small bag
perhaps provisions
Her eyes
downcast
look not to sky
so full of swifts
( in latter times
they will be
the STUKAS):
but only at her feet
and yet
and yet
she is a leader
walking before the armies
of droughts
and famines
plagues
always seeking
that better
LIFE
which is
our common goal
REFUGEE
our
MIRROR-MOTHER
often dulled
in which we gaze
to find
COMPASSION
for she knows too well
what little worth
we have when
LIFE
itself
evades us
as our stumbling feet
remind us
of the clay
from which we're baked
to form the vessel
of our self
that final
REFUGE
once our common goal
when
CAMINO
was new
REFUGIO
oft so little
and yet
and yet
encompassed
all our needs.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
GRIEVING
The Runes of the Road
are at a
standstill
crosroads
As the Shadow
does not pass
but hovers
and I wait
for the sun
to point
the way.
My love
is my Sun:
under a cloud
in a time of grief
that will
in time
pass.
Will I
be passed by?
My feet
struggle
with my heart
my soul
till night
quiets all
and the
dawn
my sunrise
finds me.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
JULYCHESS
A gull
dark against the deepening dusk
sculls his way
across the sky-sea.
A cloud
follows
slowly
for Night is playing chess
on a board
of his own making.
I send out a knight
so scout
for dreams;
he does not return.
I deepen my defence
retiring
as a hedgehog
to rest
regroup
and await the dawn.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
HOMEJULY
Clouds
white
small
dodging the wind and rain
My swifts
high
feeding
fattening
for
next month
August
they will leave
The elders
fly serious
but
a small group
youngsters
swirl and chatter
joy of living
This
is my month
Birthday
and already
my mind
is on equinox
Autumn
and solstice
Winter
The tall trees swaying
are telling me
stories
of North and West
ocean
and
the long ships of
my Older people
leaving a lure
in my bloodline
with the smile
of the wanderer
As the wind dies
and the rain passes
the Swifts
return
past my window
calling
"South!
South!
the Way
is waiting"
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con
Dios.
Samarkand.
NEW THREADHOME
Crescent moon
hanging like a silver sickle
Swift
upon the blue
There is some Irish folk music
in the background
songs
of home
and the swifts will fly there
soon enough
leaving me
to stretch my empty hands
skywards
but grateful
for the fullness
that they leave
within my heart.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
Malingerer,NEW THREAD
CANT FIGURE OUT HOW TO START!
There is a book called " Places of power on the Camino Santiago". it was mentioned on a programme called Mystic places. it showed Fire Festivals in the Basque Country ! never seen or heard of this. Any info?
Samarkand.
Moderators please direct to proper slot!
Thank you.
Even if it isn't, hats off once more to you, @mspath, for your ever ready assistance!
FOR THE WAY UNSHARED
At first
I shared the "buzz"
till I got fed up
of "pilgrims"
sprinting past
and
the clouds of "gobbys"
yakking on about time
and distance covered
I felt little connection
and went back
to being
lone
I was
after all
65
and no stranger
to hardship
or the road
My companions became
small lizards
baby rabbits
circling hawks
and mountain hares
showing me the way
My sounds
were the winds
shushing the grass
to slumber
and trees rustling their leaves
as I passed
My love
I kept within my heart
until at 80
we shared my birthday
at Finisterre
held hands
and laughed
smiled
and now
at 83
I am not too old to weep
for the ways
I left unshared
with Martha D.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
CALLING
I am uneasy
a lost bus-pass
means I shall be walking
into and out of town
I sigh and gird up
there is shopping
and things to do
I reach one half of my circle
buy water
and start the return
I walk along the front
the sea on my right
and within me I hear
that low moan
of the wind calling
I stop to talk to an old tree
I have not seen for a while
I touch the bark
and ask for forgiveness
and feel the strength
of root and rock
reach up to me
without recrimination
A small breeze catches up with me
like a child out of breath
and I hear it whisper
" The high Meseta sends me
and that is why you hear the calling in your heart.
Do not fear
the road that is yours awaits"
and I felt The Lightness
deep within
making me smile and dawdle on.
I came through the park
sat for a while
drank water
and dawdled home
to write these words
I had walked six kilometres
that had not ached me
but cradled me
and with that
I am content.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
ThankeeThanks, dear Samarkand, for your real notes, in word and colour. I do hope there are some people close by who know about the event you have written about, so you are not alone...
ThankeeSamarkand.
I walked to clinic 4kms. Slo time for me: 35 minsVascular tests all ok and now waiting (here we go again!) for next move. Perhaps I should I go back to malingering!
SERVICE
Is service without question
slavery
or faith?
I do not know
but
I hear a voice
echoing down my timeline:
" Come
you do not follow:
we walk together "
and my heart rejoices
flying ahead
of my questing mind
and stumbling feet
along
The Way.
walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
BATIK
A sky
of changing blue
and light dark clouds
stencilled in
by a master hand
as last of day
peeps in
through swaying branches
ere comes the night
to still the park
I see no life
and yet
I sense a Quiet
as if old Gods
were gathering
like Elders
for Reunion
to share and shape
Memories
I sense them
studying the design
adding a little here
a little there
knowing my heart is watching
they approve
and then leave
for the Deeper Quiet
whilst I
will now to sleep
and my soul
will carry the inks
for another day.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
COFFEE
Slow
Ritual
lay out the utensils
the ingredients
water into the stovetop bottom
coffee
carefully packed
not tamped
into the container
and top screwed down
placed onto the hob
heated
as you watch
and listen
for when the note changes
remove
from the heat
and all the while
re-connect
remember
the land
from which it came
it's people
their cultures
their mountains
their music
the wind
the sand
and the ancient trees
then sip slowly
as swifts fly over me
rejoicing
on their way
to our ancient home
Africa.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand
WHEN IT
WAS ONCE
AN I
Into the quiet
of the slowing years
I gaze
almost content
looking out the window
at clouds
and swaying trees
The T.V tells me
of Black Holes
and colliding galaxies:
the furores of tomorrow
and I wonder
if some errant
ultra microscopic
piece of me
will have wandered out there
in a yet to come
to witness
and recall
when it
was once
an I.
Walk soft
stay safe
( or should you?)
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
Crying for Afghanistan
the rain falls down my window
like children thrown
from a wall
and I hear that wail
from the country's soul
more piercing than the RPG
that bursts a tank
to leave a soldier's brains
upon the floor
as an elder bows his head
and weeps
for the millennia of pain
unsoothed
by the cash crop opium
he grows for export
to the West
who tells him he must change his ways.
He is used by all
betrayed by all
sold
in boats that sink
at sea
or falls as a raindrop
from a plane
like an old used up dream
in final scream
as all claim victories
and blames of losses
whilst in the hills
there are shattered hearths
where poisons brew
a torn tomorrow.
Vaya
con Dios
Samarkand.
LAST CAMINO (PROBABLY)Crying for...
Your gift is the weaving of words, wrought from your heart. Thank you.
Take care dear friend.
May we all sense the pleasure and blessing of more time.
Godspeed and Carpe diem!
THE QUIET
I need it
and yet
Quiet comes
wrapped in it's own sound
like the incoming tide
soothing
the sand of dawn
as softly wails
a gull
on early morning hunger-prowl
shadowing
the wolves
of day.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
SPIRES
I count them
studying their lines
as I train South
and wonder
Are they fingers
pointing to God
or the steel spikes
of man's helmeted arrogance
They sit atop
buildings old
surrounded by new-builds
and pseudo antiquity
as pigeons still roost on them
perhaps dispensing feathered prayers
as shit
to stain our pride
our cars
our beatified pollutants
the four wheeled boxes
that have become
womb like
wrapping us in cocoons
of steel and plastic
as we await
the next coming
electric
atomic
fusion
sucking in
like a greedy infant
the very air
wind
to orchestrate a power
that perhaps
holds the key
to Pandora's box
held tight by gargoyles
faces twisted by fear and vertigo
on spires
that aspire.
walk soft
stay safe ( and don't slip in the you know what! )
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
EQUINOX
and summer bids a soft farewell
with gentle pinks and blues
at fading light
as autumn sharpens steel
to whet the blades of winter
so I summon soul
to count the days to solstice
and the sun's return
when The Way
begins to beckon
and The West
begins to call.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
RAIN DROPS AND YOUNG LOVERSSABINA
Cold dreams
and old wars
rage
on my screen
re-hashed
for new generations
as Napoleon's Waterloo
is yet again explained
by the fact he had piles
and newest discovery
of stomach cancer
plus second-rate seconds-in-command
as we are
regaled
by computer generated expositions
of the effects
of musket, cannon ball and bayonet thrust
at close range
whilst in a now
a young woman
bright
beautiful
caring
fights the battle
of The Light
that young minds
might reach tomorrow
and it's dreams
with hope
and love
till foully murdered
in a park
parody of peace and place
My heart goes cold
with a lump
as hard as musket ball
at such a treachery
of fate
And I would
that I
could twist a future
into giving her
some
of my
accumulated years
that she
might have
some more
and
when next I venture
on The Way
for her I'll pray
at Santiago
and light a candle
to help replace the one
so brutally
put out.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya con Dios.
Samarkand.
Following my heartRAIN DROPS AND YOUNG LOVERS
I watch two rain drops
race
like excited teenagers
from opposite corners
down my window
and I almost hear them laugh
as they collide
meld
grow
wed
die
as one.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios
samarkand.
wed
SINGULARITYFollowing my heart
....................................... and pursuing numbers
I was leafing through my very old
and battered
copy of the I Ching
and found
this:
" Full of fear
full of longing
Home
where are you:
"" Here"
cries the heart
"Here"
and I smile
for
as the old ones of Ireland
say
"where the Heart lies
the feet
wander"
and I know my heart
follows
my feet
up a long slow climb
to a certain mountain in Camino.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
Con Dios.
Samarkand.
SINGULARITY
I
am the centre
of
mine own circle
but
where within
is mine own centre
Does it move
as I do
so:
is there a centre
a singularity
in The universe
and
does it
move
from an original
point
to a now
perhaps a speck
a dot
or is it
that mote
within my eye
or
has it travelled
within that dust spot
on a comet
to my world:
a fleeing soul
within a snow flake
seeking
the furthest edge
from centre
to break free
cross over
to be
a new centre
a singular
Singularity.
Walk soft
stay safe ( or why should you?)
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
| ITHACA Constantine P. Cavafy When you set out on your journey to Ithaca, pray that the road is long, full of adventure, full of knowledge. The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops, the angry Poseidon - do not fear them: You will never find such as these on your path, if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine emotion touches your spirit and your body. The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops, the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter, if you do not carry them within your soul, if your soul does not set them up before you. Pray that the road is long. That the summer mornings are many, when, with such pleasure, with such joy you will enter ports seen for the first time; stop at Phoenician markets, and purchase fine merchandise, mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony, and sensual perfumes of all kinds, as many sensual perfumes as you can; visit many Egyptian cities, to learn and learn from scholars. Always keep Ithaca in your mind. To arrive there is your ultimate goal. But do not hurry the voyage at all. It is better to let it last for many years; and to anchor at the island when you are old, rich with all you have gained on the way, not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches. Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage. Without her you would have never set out on the road. She has nothing more to give you. And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you. Wise as you have become, with so much experience, you must already have understood what Ithaca means. | Video: Ithaca by C.P.Cavafy (Recited by Sean Connery, with music by Vangelis) |
I like this. Thank you.Samarkand, do have a look at this:
ITHACA
Constantine P. Cavafy
When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon - do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.
Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.
Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.
Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.
And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithaca means.
Video: Ithaca by C.P.Cavafy
(Recited by Sean Connery, with music by Vangelis)
ABDUCTEESSamarkand, one of the editorial pieces in the paper I read made me think of you. Poets do indeed have a key role in reflecting glints of current realities, personal and universal. I offer this as support for your own role in offering your reflections in the society of the forum.
From The Irish Times
The place of poetry
Many of us end our school days bidding farewell to poetry, and not always a fond farewell. But for many others it remains an essential part of life. Whatever about being “the unacknowledged legislators”, as Shelley called them, poets are often the specialists we turn to on occasions of personal trauma or loss, war or pestilence. The recent deaths of two of this country’s most distinguished poets, Brendan Kennelly and Máire Mhac an tSaoi, and the responses to their deaths, is a reminder of poetry’s value in society and the role of those who write it.
It is perhaps the most accommodating of the art forms. It can praise or protest, elegise or eulogise, tell a story or evoke a place, speak to moments of remembrance and romance – and, as poets have always been doing, give powerful expression to the ache of love. Poetry reminds us how to pay attention to the world and its wonders, to look at things anew, as Kennelly urges the reader to do in his popular poem Begin.
There is much activity around poetry that deserves public support and funding: the small press publishing that is almost a labour of love, the festivals and readings, the UCD Poetry Archive where the harvesting of poets’ voices will be a resource for future generations, and particularly the work Poetry Ireland, which only recently, in collaboration with local authorities, created the opportunity for a cohort of local Poet Laureates to pay homage to their towns and communities.
Poetry has also been an enriching part of the ongoing programme of commemorations, providing the most appropriate language for these complex and sensitive occasions looking back on our history.
The pandemic and its lockdowns seem to have triggered a renewal of interest in poetry as a consolatory art, a place in which to find our bearings and reset our perspectives. This has been a time in need of the kind of assurance the late Derek Mahon provides in his poem Everything is Going to be All Right. In our age of spin and sloganeering, poetry is more necessary than ever.
ABDUCTEES
written primarily for Maddie
(Madeline Mc Cann)
but now also
for another
Abductee
in OZ :
Little girls both taken.
Maddie
I have prayed for you
every single day
since that terrible time
you were taken.
Your name is Celtic
I
am Celt
it was a wound to my soul
and I pray
if you are alive
you are well
and not abused
and if dead
may you be at peace
but still I pray
for I cannot accept
your absence
as now
the wound grows wider
at another taking.
Should I abandon
my endless
almost useless
agonising
praying?
And then
my wilting chilis
grow two fresh white flowers
to ease my heart a little
so that my prayers
will continue
and I will whisper the soul-shout
of my warrior-people
into the wind:
" We do not forget".
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
~Samarkand.
LITTLE GIRL FOUND !ABDUCTEES
written primarily for Maddie
(Madeline Mc Cann)
but now also
for another
Abductee
in OZ :
Little girls both taken.
Maddie
I have prayed for you
every single day
since that terrible time
you were taken.
Your name is Celtic
I
am Celt
it was a wound to my soul
and I pray
if you are alive
you are well
and not abused
and if dead
may you be at peace
but still I pray
for I cannot accept
your absence
as now
the wound grows wider
at another taking.
Should I abandon
my endless
almost useless
agonising
praying?
And then
my wilting chilis
grow two fresh white flowers
to ease my heart a little
so that my prayers
will continue
and I will whisper the soul-shout
of my warrior-people
into the wind:
" We do not forget".
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
~Samarkand.
Joyous indeed. Every parents nightmare.LITTLE GIRL FOUND !
news on UK TV this morning says little girl in Australia found alive and well. I am overjoyed and it certainly puts my own fears and foibles in their place! Absolutely brilliant news.
Samarkand.
Joyous indeed. Every parents nightmare.
I haven't stopped smiling at the news and the words "My name is Cleo" meant so much.
FAITH.........
...........
holds
enfolds
but does not cling
it is no chain
or leash
but when on-trail
it traces
a thread
softer than silk
stronger than steel:
my Handrail
on Camino.
There
when needed
when I swallow my pride
and ask
for it is friend
mentor
not overseer
and on stormy days
opens my heart
to The Light
that warms
within.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
THE FALLING LEAVES OF TIME
and autumn leaves
flit
like ghostly birds-of-paradise
across
my window
in a strange moult
and I wonder
do trees remember
a more ancient time
before the clocks changed
before even
man's clocks began to rule
and forged a chain
of cogs
to bring an apparent order
to our world.
And I wonder
are there Horologists
in Hell?
Are there time-locks on the gates
that ope with keys of thought
or prayer
or is there an Alexander
on standby
to wield the sword
and break the chains?
I come back to watching leaves
and drinking coffee
made to a time-honoured
ritual
of mine own making!
walk soft
stay safe
and as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
AUTUMN LEAVES AND FALL MIGRANTSA MIGRANT CHRISTMAS
Far
from their hellish origins
of drought
famine
corruption
riven by war
fleeced
trafficked
they die
in the ice cold channel
to a carol
of crashing wave
and crying
drowning
children
The men and women
of lifeboats
snatch what they can
and ask no questions
or their reason
for drowning
There are no roses
on a sailor's grave
or on migrants either
so I wear the Rose Tattoo
and carry my own
and pray for those
who chose to dare
for are we pilgrims not migrants also
often seeking a better life
of spirit
and grateful for
the kindness of strangers
and the outstretched hand?
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios
Samarkand.
AUTUMN LEAVES AND FALL MIGRANTS
The wind rises
temperatures drop
dying leaves cling
to parent trees
as waves climb higher
and boats sink
with drowning children
clinging
to drowning parents.
Do NOT walk safe
or softly
but rage
against
the great futility.
Samarkand.
A "KINDNESS" OF STRANGERSGUNS AND GARLANDS
A battleship
sunk
there
in Pearl Harbour
The great guns
now covered
in weeds
barnacles
and decorated by
garlands
of small
colourful
fish
The men who served
lie dead
their names alive
on plaques
but still their spirits
live
in bravery
and honour
so In salute you
in the long ago
and in the ever present
now.
Samarkand.
A "KINDNESS" OF STRANGERS
Caught out by weather
and a missed bus
I plodded into town
uncomfortable
till having coffee
I noticed
my down jacket was sodden
I had had the poncho over
but forgotten how bad I sweat
under pressure and exertion
making me wet
from the inside
with lungs like mine
this is not good
so I hurried to a charity shop
just as it opened
and found a good but cheap cagoule
waiting for me
I bought a top as well
and the nice lady let me change
on the premises
As I packed away my wet gear
into the ruck
I thought of the nameless donors
who had saved me
and I wondered what you call a group of such strangers
till I felt The Smile
and knew immediately:
" Its a Kindness of Strangers""
Walk soft
(and check the weather forecast)
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
SAMARKAND.
I noticed
Pearl Harbor day
and a President
and First Lady
stand
framed in Silence
what else
is there
to say.
samarkand.
EARTH-BURN
Twilight charcoal etched trees
point upwards
to the winter sky
grey and sullen
in the face
of coming solstice
now days away
and I count them
feeling my heart
unfold
in the ancient rhythm
of this our mother-home
bestowing blessings
on her ingrates
screaming for more
as our earth-ship burns
whilst the beggar child
is denied the manger
for we need the straw
for our pampered pets
and foodstuff
for cosmetics.
Walk soft.
Samarkand.
HUDDLE
Antarctic penguins
do it
Charles dickens' poor
certainly did
and I will
huddle
especially this solstice
around the memory-fires
circled by my ghosts
of Xmas past
present
and future
waving me on
with laughter
tears
and years
of putting one foot
past the other
to light a candle
at end of Way
in thanks
to my Ancestors
and my love in Now
as Tomorrow smiles
and beckons me
from safety of huddle
to unknown's glimmer
on that far horizon
I call
Camino.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
Solstice
and my world teeters
on the edge
like a guillemot chick
taking that first
great leap of faith
from cliff
so high
so high
and far
from the light of tomorrow
calling from the sea
of forever
" This Way!
This Way ! "
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Via
con Dios.
Samarkand.
.38
A pistol calibre
and the year of my birth
a serious omen
for my coming Christmas
would be
the last of Peace
as 39
brazen
with sounding gong
announced War
who scattered
like snowflakes from Hell
a dreadful bounty
of conflict.
now
I am 83
a number reversal
as I walk towards
84
and the completion
of the seventh cycle.
Millions have died
since '38
in continuing conflict
and pandemic.
So what gives me hope?
The Earth turned
at solstice
and tomorrow
is the beginning
of the calendar year
I pray for those I love
and with whom
I communicate.
One word?
Love
in the eyes of a child
Love
in a smile
Love
in every mile
I can still walk.
Walk soft
Stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
Con Dios.
Samarkand.
WINTER
Grey
but seemingly a sullen sad damp
kind of greyness
unlike the wild
calling
of grey geese overhead
with magic
sight and sound
of whistling wings
and joy in their cries
lifting my heart
bringing warmth
as I feel a kind of pity
for winter's child
so often maligned
as the orphan season
yet
it prepares
to lengthen days
promising spring
" Patience"
it whispers
" Patience,
I give you this gift
to help
when your tired heart
the climbs do face
Patience
for there is no race
on Camino
and seasons each
their song
will bring
do you but listen"
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
A FEBRUARY HEART
............................................ is a candle flame
within the igloo
of my winter soul
radiating warmth
and light
to mimic Sun
and beacon be
against the Dark.
Walk soft
stay safe
and as ever
Vaya
con
Dios.
Samarkand.
A FEBRUARY HEART
............................................ is a candle flame
within the igloo
of my winter soul
radiating warmth
and light
to mimic Sun
and beacon be
against the Dark.
Walk soft
stay safe
and as ever
Vaya
con
Dios.
Samarkand.
BETRAYAL
Our arrogance has become inflated
with cruelty
Once
Dog
was companion on the hunt
guardian of our encampments
later
guards and guides
to our flocks and herds
then sadly
war -dogs
Now
bred
to fit in handbags
crossed endlessly
to become
expensive mongrels
Cow
now forever linked to machines
deprived of her calves
so that we
greedily
can steal her milk
Hen
once jungle fowl
now caged worse
than criminals
Our relentless thefts
go on
Deprivation
of other lives
not our concern
as feed we our growth
with the deaths
of others
Pillaging
more than goods
resources
but Life itself
a suicidal betrayal
Change
change we must
no matter how small
that first step
to reconciliation
reconnection
that Life may bloom
above the ash
we are starting to drown in.
Walk soft
for what is underneath your foot?
and
as ever
Via
con Dios
who resides in all things.
Samarkand.
BUD
There
at end of twig
at end of branch
a small
green
bud
Scout
for spring
as geese fly
o'er head
debating
time to go
North
as I look
South
and count the days
to fly
Iberia
heart land
soul-spring
with Swifts
circling above me
at Roncesvalles
chattering their mountain prayers
to me
a fellow Pilgrim.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios
Samarkand.
THE SILENCE OF THE WOLF-MOON
The silence
calls me
wakes me
draws me
to the window
sky deep
in banks of white
softening to grey
in the fading light
whilst small stars gleam
as I feel the silence
warm me
as if my Guardian
lends a cloak
and then
much later
I rise again
to watch
the wolf-moon
watching me
from out the West
in the deep
deep blue
of the pre-dawn dark
and I smile
at this the first Great Moon of '22
pulling me
to Path and Way
of mile
after mile
of Blessed Way.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios
Samarkand.
SAROEAK
Basque markers
transhumance
old
I went to find them
a lifetime ago
and failed
but
I found Camino
instead
and turned my back
on the rising sun
West
I went
and am going still
seeking
my final departure point
to come home
like those sheep
from the ancient mountains
home.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios
Samarkand.
PRAYERS REQUESTEDFLEETING
the instance
between
self
and
Self
moment of
perfect balance
like
a foot mid-stride
pausing
in silent communication
connection
re-connection
with the other
on the Long Way
Home.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
She seems to be very upbeat about it all! Staying cozy and drinking lots of hot tea! Methinks there might be the odd drop of something stronger in there! Thanks for asking Kirkie and as to point two, yes, best left alone on this forum at any rate.How is your daughter, pray tell... thanks for sharing that burden. The other point you mentioned: I will leave it alone. Aware of it, yes, very much so.
Pax, Samarkand/@malingerer.
She seems to be very upbeat about it all! Staying cozy and drinking lots of hot tea! Methinks there might be the odd drop of something stronger in there! Thanks for asking Kirkie and as to point two, yes, best left alone on this forum at any rate.
Take care and buen camino.
Samarkand.
Thank you! I went to light one this morning and the church was closed so you've saved me!Just wondering how your daughter’s faring.
Omicron seems to be more short-lived than previous strains; I thought perhaps she might be feeling a little better by now.
But I’ll light another candle, just in case …
Thank you! I went to light one this morning and the church was closed so you've saved me!
Samarkand.
CHANGE/CONTROL
The morning meet of magpies
chatters ferociously
over first item:
nest sites
then control of high points
war
on neighbours
especially crows.
The news tells me
that flowers are blooming early
Will insects rise too late
to feed the avian young
now premature
Will Swifts arrive too soon
Will the winter wheat
ripen before my eyes
Will the grass
wither early
depriving dairy cows
causing shortage
to dilute good coffee
with synthetic
forming a new mongrel " café con leche"
so beloved of pilgies
Will I need a sun umbrella
nice new summer weight
merino base layers
will cheap throwaway ponchos
litter the landscape
I wonder
but
ATLANTIC
hurls his legions
shoreward
with wind and gale
berserker waves
to gouge and carve out headstones
from our
arrogance.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios
Samarkand.
THE PASS TO RONCESVALLESEIGHT
An octet of Magpies
abruptly finish their madrigal
and gaze at me
so I follow the rule of eight
and make a wish
never to be disclosed
according to the rule of seven
so I close my eyes
and wait
till I feel the Smile
from my Guardian Angel
who I know has been eavesdropping
all the while
and whispering
Camino
Camino
on my behalf
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios
Samarkand.
THE PASS TO RONCESVALLES
A many
of stars
hangs
in the early hours
soul-lanterns
held high
by those
who cannot return
for another dawn
which of itself
awaits
another day
awaiting
to be born
earmarked for me
on that mountain pass
to which
I ever yearn.
walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios
Samarkand.
Have you listened to this?LOST
I did not like my father
to me
when small
he was bully
coward
drunkard
In later life
when I to sea did go
and army join
I forgave him
for watching film
documentary
and talking to the old
I realised
he had fought his Way
a bitter Camino
across Africa
Sicily
Italy
France
Germany
leaving his best
with the best
fallen comrades
How proud those men had been
of self
country
and each other
Perhaps he had wished
to return whole
to us
and I
his son
would be proud
of him
So now this older self
stands in horror
as if a thought
had triggered a hidden mine
and I listen
to that small boy still within
crying in that untold anguish
for hands let go
too soon
of Grandmother
Father
Mother
for whom I must go a-Camino
to light my candles
say the words
and commit my pebbles
to the Deep
at Finisterre
No model father have I been to mine
and forty years it took
before my son said
"Dad, I love you"
and now
I can say the same of mine
forgiving
all our futures.
Walk soft
stay safe
and as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
have pinned this to START on my desktop and will watch/listen at a later and quiet time. Will probably buy some cheap headphones so as not startle the nayboors!Have you listened to this?
https://www.eimearquinn.com/videos/yann-derrien-with-carlos-nunez.
I love it, and it came straight to my mind, reading your above words...
THE SEA SHALL HAVE THEMhave pinned this to START on my desktop and will watch/listen at a later and quiet time. Will probably buy some cheap headphones so as not startle the nayboors!
Buen camino
Samarkand.
THE SEA SHALL HAVE THEM
A sea-bell rings
from an ancient deep
rung by ocean
that swallowed the ringer
long ago
as silent stand the stones
of ancient dwellings
whose builders
lost the fight
to seas of hunger
but still the bell
tolls
for me
and thee
standing here
on the edge
between shore and ocean
listening
to the siren-cry
of never-sleep.
Walk soft
stay safe
and as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
STOLEN VOICES
A small child dies
on an Afghan street
discarded by new owners
having been sold by her parents
to make ends meet
she wasted from within
unable to go much further
whilst pilgrims fly
around the world
to walk
to Santiago
I heard her small voice down the timeline
reminding me
of when I walked
over a Dublin bridge
head down against the rain
brusquely passing by
a tinker child crying
with the cold
begging for pennies
and calling to me as I hurried
only to see him again
lying on a sheet of cardboard
in Albania
small hand clutching a tin
with a few coins
eyes almost lifeless
from drugs to ease his pain
and I wonder
are the souls of men now born
with holes
to drain emotion
so that our senses are not clogged
by pity
and we can smell the incense
from a great burner
and listen to great bells
forgetting to ask
for whom the bells toll.
Vaya con Dios
Samarkand.
OWNERSHIP
The naming of storms
is an arrogance
like old explorers
thinking they own that
which they name
but Child of the Wind
throws that back
in our faces
and pounds the beaches
laughing with the
wildness
of Gale
to see us scurry
before her
like frightened mice
fleeing the hawk.
Vaya con Dios
Samarkand.
I always think of stormy winds as being a blessing, cleansing the air that we have polluted.
WEATHERSTORMS
EUNICE
lashes the shores
reminding me
of storms I have survived
Typhoon
mid Pacific
when our ship rolled so far over
it was not believed
she could come back up
but she did
Monsoon
in Hong Kong
with the storm drains
running like rapids
drowning the unwary
and great boulders
loosened from The Peak
crashing down on shanties
taking life
from those who already
had little else to lose
Razor edged blizzards
and whiteouts
in Cairngorm
making ice-shrouds
for the lost
and pilgrims
on their way
to Roncesvalles
becoming ghosts
that whisper
by their markers
So I pray
for that small one with her mother
in the park
and ask the gale-children
to let her pass
and let her home
for flying debris
is not selective.
Walk soft
stay safe
it will be time enough
to whisper
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
WEATHER
Storm FRANKLIN
brother to EUNICE
charges in
like a rowdy teenager
scattering the already strewn
as crows ignore him
in wheeling pairs
checking on future nest sites
as dogs
run joyously
through the park
remembering their wolf-time
before we tamed them
and I
with no fire
absorb the heat
from a storage heater
and likewise fall
to remembering
as life goes on.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
CALLING
I cast a dancing rune
to see
what can be seen
and the Butterfly of Time and Space
comes fluttering close
to me
with wings of silk
and eyes of gold
bringing whispers
from the sea
that flows around a Universe
forever
calling me
to summon Self
as Crew
and build
a craft with dreams supplied
to sail beyond Forever
just West
of the Timeless Tides
and ride the waves of Never
which is always
where
I bide.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
UKRAINE
Today
the rain
is blood
Stand firm
tides turn
Tomorrow
Freedom's flag
never furled.
Vaya con Dios.
Samarkand.
OF SMOKE AND VELVET
Once
long ago
in a fold of time
at Bethlehem
a small
wide-eyed kitten
watched in wonder
as a child
was born
Later
when all had gone
The Stillness came
and the kitten
softly
padded towards the sleeping infant
The kitten sat
then gently
stretched a paw
in silken stroke
to the child's face
as came The Smile
and it awoke
eyes wide opened
they saw each other
Who knows
what was exchanged
for the cat never tells
and off the kitten went
on a long long journey
through the spirals
of dream
and time
till for a brief
of lives
she stayed
with me
in her mode of Russian Blue
fur soft as silk
eyes full of fable
She went away
but now and then
I wonder
when I am wandering
through my Tiger Years
if what I see
is Smoke and Velvet
singing songs
to me.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios
Samarkand.
GRAVITY
Rain
falls
here
Bombs
fall
there
Gravity
is impartial
but magpies three
sit
in a rain-soaked tree
and will defy
like Freedom
to fly.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
THE WORDCONTRAST
I sit in the pre-dawn dark
drinking coffee
watching the light
creeping in
to the park
For me
no bombs fall
no sirens call
no shell
makes hell
of my home
but I remember
1938
when I was born
and heard the prelude
and my heart constricts.
Walk soft
but pray hard
stay safe
if you can
My thoughts are with those
in desperate need
in this desperate time.
Vaya
con Dios
Samarkand.
THE WORD
AND
THE BULLET
Twins
to a dreadful
mother
WAR
They seek
their playmates
For one
The Gun
The other
The Poet
each staining the Earth
one
with blood
the other
with trodden dreams
as burdened women
carry children
some dead
to graves
or a fleeting safety
Many
saying goodbyes
perhaps
for ever
they take tomorrows
with them
giving that strength
that only love
can give
to partners
returning
to War
NO PASARAN
I whisper down the wind
NO PASARAN
The Dream
never
dies.
Walk proud
Vaya
con Dios.
SAMARKAND.
DAYBREAK
How lovely
the dawn
The park
shyly
puts on
her new coat
of green
The silence
softly admires
The wind is low
and the sun
promises
to be high
and bright
Small birds
begin to flutter
and I am reminded
to replace a feeder
as I drink
my first coffee
of the day
and bask
in solitude.
Vaya
con Dios
Samarkand.
AWAITING SWIFTSA CHANGE IN THE WAY
My journey
postponed
I am gutted
and face
into the West
and the Wind
still feeling the call
of Ancestor
and a long-ship
moored
in time
awaiting the cast off
and timeless continuation
of that journey
into the setting sun
and then
beyond
to my star-home
Procyon
and refurbishing
resupply
and then
onwards
for the waves
of Universe
are as
Way
beneath my feet.
Walk soft
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios
Samarkand.
AWAITING SWIFTS
I long for Swifts
yet pray for those
small children
that they may know
that not all things
with wings
are drones
or missiles
Our mother earth
grows irksome
as we become the fleas
of evolution
and irritate her skin
with deadly fratricide
unheeding of tomorrows
but still I pray
for the Swifts of April
May
and summer
flighting to my soul
with feathered hope
in every wingbeat.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
TIME TO LET GO.....COLOURS
A last claw
from Winter
backed by winds
and rain
flies in The Grey
But defiant
are new leaves
of green
as buds swell
and bark displays
new clothes
in readiness for Easter
Awakening
Arising
And The Purple waits
to greet the Pilgrim
and the incense shrub
will sweeten air
in Nature's own cathedral.
Walk soft
stay safe
and
as ever
Vaya
con Dios.
Samarkand.
TIME TO LET GO.....
the young man said
as we homed in
on each other's accents.
Same land
different tribes.
Understood we both
what was meant.
Time for Elders
to let go
and stop passing on
the ancient pain
to let the young
live
making
a new beginning.
I felt the pain nevertheless
but reached within
to sever the hawser
of the heaviness
of history
and pointed the prow
of self
to a new journey
to share the wonder
of voyage
with a life companion
to touch the light
in every leaf
as joy did speak
in every note
of birdsong
thanking the young
for showing me
The Way.
Vaya con Dios.
Samarkand.
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