Ask 12: Bare your wounds
Don’t let it bring you down babe,
As the dragon crashes with the pain,
I see it all go round again.
Maybe not by the same name,
Maybe it’s just history repeating itself
Over and over and over and over,
Find me a lover, lets run for cover,
Sanctuary, hidden from the cascade of tears
That’s what we need, a place to hide our fears.
Sweetness in your youth, know no lie from truth.
Ignorance is bliss. What did I miss?
The world go by, take it in, exhale and sigh,
Open your eyes to the new day,
It may always be the last
Embrace the moment,
Hold no regrets,
Forget the past,
Whatever it is the proverbs say,
Find another way to drift away
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poem by David Lacey
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The Feathers of Dreams
The midnight hour has long since past and still by candlelight I turn,
My eyes are burning with the strain of receiving all that surrounds them.
Naked as the day I was born I sense the dissolution of my limitations,
The spirit invoked, the last skin smoked and I am set free into the blanket night.
A light hearted melody fuels the motion of my mind and I dance
Wild and free upon the wings of expression adorned in the feathers of dreams.
As a Celtic knot wraps its shadow around my wrist a maiden appears in the shade,
The definition of her face is fading but there wading with the ghosts of a life
Long since lived she dwells, her emotion swelling upon the look within my eyes.
Offering her hand to me she offers freedom from this world of our awakening
Yet a shift in her smile allows her grace to lift one moment enough to see that
She is far from a position to offer the gifts she promises so lightly with her words.
She lies unheard of amongst those that would wish to measure her features
For she is beyond manifestation, she is creation adorned in the feathers of dreams.
With a pensive smile she embraced me, smothering me with her warm caress
And whispered into my ear ‘All is not as it once was, yet still all is one in the same.
Love thyself and love thy all and know that even when you have fallen I shall
Embrace you into my arms for I am all you aspire to be. I shall know you
Until your final dream and I shall walk with you through nightmares as I shall
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poem by David Lacey
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Idols Of Death
Cold marble pressed against sweating skin
The floor of my asylum is a rivulet of luxury
Decadent memories of a former life stir
Reminiscence within the hours of my awakening
I'm falling, failing to rise
Keeping open with a hope in faith my eyes,
Still I fall; still I am to be found
Carving circles in the ground
Crying out for a sanctuary in the sky.
We are as insane puppets dancing, fuelled my the motion to live
Pulling our own strings when we wish and sometimes the strings of others.
I sit alone at a table round
Where are the knights of my fable?
Where is the romance that was promised to me by fairy tale philosophies?
Some are coordinated by the will to live
Some by the fear they may die
Some by the notion to give
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poem by David Lacey
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Dead Bodies and Cardboard
Born beneath a dying sun
Mourn for them the dying young.
Lament for those whose song
By siren chords has long since been sung.
Lament for those, skinned and hung from the city gates.
We pray for them this nightmare shall prove easy enough to shake
As the sky bakes slow in furnace fumes, igniting the skies in fury.
There, low and behold the addict merchant selling his soul.
I dreamt last night of a girl I have not seen in years
Years which can not match the tears nor fears in number.
Little did I know that she slept, slumbering numb beneath the mountain.
Dreaming of Pan, of ancient scented night.
King of Hedgerows, Prince of Circus Shows
Queens of the Flow gather in flowering
Embrace the bloom, the pinnacle of the chase.
Race the moon to see her face.
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poem by David Lacey
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To Come Of Age
A voice sat deep inside you says,
Just waste away till nothing fades.
As shadows are left behind,
To make the world go blind.
Something down inside you knows,
You’ll join where all the rivers flow,
And drown beneath the sea,
Believing you are free.
I’ve lost that thing inside me that tells me what is real,
I don’t know the way I’m thinking, I can’t quite make out the way I feel,
I know the people sat around me, think they know me, more than I
Still I cant hear a word they say sat so far beyond the skies.
They talk of things I’ve never heard of
Words that seem surreal.
Never heard but not unheard of,
Still can’t make out what is real.
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poem by David Lacey
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Romance and Her Eternal Dream.
Skies of azure have faded in the wake of a crimson shade.
The horizon melts within a state of conversion with the
Limits of a cloudless realm. The stars are turning in their
Constellations, the stars are shining without reservation.
Preserving the beauty of a blanket and cloudless realm.
Here I am, here I remain as ever unsteady at the helm,
As Poseidon whips the waves into a fury of eternal depth.
The void awaits, blissful slumbers within the abyss are calling,
Tempting us to fall, Love leads us towards the strength of our
Unknowing, into the river of our flowing we are to step,
Unafraid into the stream of Romance and her eternal dream.
Only clouds of cotton candy innocence are to roam here,
Only tears of joy are to fall and never those of fear and though
Through the years we may grow tired and we may grow weary
Of constantly trying to ascertain a truth beyond compare
We are to appreciate the fact that we are here
We are to appreciate the fact that we were there to make the
Mistakes we now regret, those same mistakes we must never
Forget if we hope to ever learn from past confusion.
Seek your fusion with the Mind at Large, seek your unison
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poem by David Lacey
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Esplumoir
Before birth we lay as nothing, alas sweet nothing at all,
We are as the one, dedicated to naught but our Love of unison.
How are our souls ever to learn if we are forever earning
Our dues through celestial favours?
How are our souls ever to grow if all we ever know are the
Tastes of terrestrial flavours?
Through the gift of mortal tenancy we are thrown
Into the chaos that surrounds us throughout the day realm.
How are we ever to remain steady at the helm
If we are never given a vessel within which we may sail?
How are we to succeed in our Endeavour if we are never given
The ability to fail?
How are we ever to learn if we are never given the chance
To earn the respect of fellow earthen dancers?
Do not wish away your time upon this earth but know
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poem by David Lacey
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Remain Ever Soulful in your Gaze
Through honesty as through opening our hearts to the song of the universe
We may achieve our potential and it is only when we hath become the
Master maker of our destiny that we may adorn the mask of true dreaming
And stare unafraid into the eye of the source.
Fey of healing waters beckon with promises of rejuvenation whilst we listen to he who watches the mountain grow. Observe the change that surrounds you in the instance. Allow the pipers their time to pipe as they herald in the dawn; allow their song to flow upon harmonies sweet softening whilst strengthening your soul, listen for the rhythm, the heartbeat of your muse, choose to seize the day, please others in your way.
Embrace the calling of Deaths hand as she stands emitting an aura of wisdom.
Embrace the calling of Deaths hand as she promises a change within your pace.
Keep the faith you’ve learnt to wear so happy upon your sleeve, keep your faith
In truth even if you doubt that you will ever know for sure the way to cure the
Blues within which you find yourself swimming. Require no proof but the ability
To question alongside the ability to agree with those who would disagree with you.
Know that honesty at times bears so bitter a bite and many would choose never to Know yet these are they who would so happily loose sense of themselves for the
Promise of a comfortable lifestyle, yet do they not realise that we hath been born
To embrace the dawn not to wallow whilst swallowing their dreams and allowing
The nightmare of consumerism to unfold, take your stand, know that love of this
Land our mother the earth will prevail, and though for centuries our kind hath been
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poem by David Lacey
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No More Than Craftsmen
We are no more than craftsmen,
Our materials exist before us,
The word, the thought, the dream
We are those who sew up at the seems
All that lay before them in an aspiration
Towards a harmony that may touch the souls of all.
The words exist, all we may do is re arrange them
And through our ends we may help one another
Though never knowing by offering the soul uneasy
A chance to reflect upon the pains and joys of others,
This life, this life so strange hath changed my soul
Yet within the circle I remain, casting shadows towards
The elemental poles. What a fool I must seem,
Yet within the dream I remain growing uneasy at the thought
Of confronting the reality I so long ago left behind.
Here I am surrounded by joy; here I am surrounded by the beauty of all
Yet to fall and to call upon the demons of my insecurity is to easy
And for this reason I rest my pen upon the page, I flit my fingers across the board
Yet through sharing and never hording the emotion I feel
I have created an ocean within which my soul may drown.
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poem by David Lacey
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To The Strangest Girl I've Ever Known
Heretical hierarchies decompose in slow plastic tides.
An ode is sung, wild eyed for those too scared to run,
A lament for those that tried to ply open the chest’s secret encoded,
And still we are relying on the illusion that our guns are loaded,
That we’re ready to explode at anytime in floods of woeful fears,
Streaming tears in cascades, breaking barriers, overrunning barricades.
I spy dreamers washed up upon the shore, lost in isolation when they are
Surrounded by a thousand likewise ungrounded souls. Crying for a saviour.
The doorways are now broken that would have opened had a little
Patience been applied, had we relied on more than instinct to guide us through the skies.
Beyond the twilight, beyond our mother’s delight lies the truth so far out of sight that we require proof of our existence before we empower ourselves with love.
Some sickly rose of pale blue shades clasped upon my palm,
Gone are the days of failing you she said,
Leaving me in a jaded calm of slumbering silence.
What defence could I offer?
The gifts of love that I made to gain her favour?
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poem by David Lacey
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