Tag Archives: death

Slow train coming

I feel a slow train coming

It’s rising from the dust

Painted out in cadmium

It’s fading out to rust

There’s thunder in the storm clouds

That line the track behind

But there’s no-one now that’s looking

So I never saw the signs

It’s a slow train, it’s a slow train

And it labours through the night

But each and every morning it looks larger in my sight

It’s a slow train, Lord a slow train

And it sings a slow refrain

Yes, Lord it is a slow train

And it’s calling out my name.

Advertisements

Cemeteries.

Cemetery.

How many lives are we given to live in this one life of ours?
And how many loves are we given to love along the way?

Today I sat in a cemetery
The wind was so cold it was cutting
Leaves in glorious colours flew past on this cutting wind
Almost too colourful for a cemetery
Coppers, gold’s, bronzes.
Whoever painted those leaves knew their stuff
The long grass bent under the wind
Too flimsy, too weak to stand up to the tempest
The trees waved in protest
There were flowers everywhere
Single stems lay in precise places
Bunches in vases
Bunches carefully tied to trees
So colourful
So beautiful
So poignant
Some had little messages
Some long letters
There were teddy bears
There were greeting cards
It was quite sad
But it was comforting
Talking to the ones who left early can be comforting

The sky was gun metal grey
Clouds raced each other across the horizon
Hammering into one another
Sparking long lines of lightning
Rolling thunder booming over the land
And I sat with the ones who had gone early

Sometimes I think about things
Like
Isn’t it strange?
You are never frightened when you are holding hands
Like
Cuddles can heal so much
Sometimes I ask questions
Will I love again?
Or
Dare I love again?

I recall
How good it is to hold a hand
with no thought other than to be just holding that hand
I remember how soft a kiss can be
How much pleasure one can get from watching someone you love
doing nothing
I remember the saying
You don’t regret the things you do
You only regret the things you don’t do
I wonder who writes these things

You can’t lie in cemeteries
You have to tell the truth
I think it’s a rule
So when a question pops into your mind
You have to answer it

Life is so short

How many lives are we given to live in this one life of ours?
It was strange for me to realise there are lives within our lives.
And how many loves are we given to love along the way?

Is this our last life?
Is the person in your mind your next love?
Is the next love the last love?

I can see the rain in the distance
The sky hurling the downpour onto the earth
Thunder laughing at the misery it causes
Lightning, piercing, stabbing at unseen targets
I sat on the bench huddled up against the cold
I watch leaves dancing
Waiting for the rain
Autumn
For the trees
Autumn
For me
How many more chances?
How many more dances?

I stand and say my goodbyes
Blow a kiss or two
I’ll see them all again
One day
I turn
And set off to seek what is out there for me
Funny places cemeteries
Sometimes you get answers to questions you never knew you had.

 

Losing you.

You think I wasn’t there but I was there

I held your hand all through the night

Every breath that you breathed I was breathing

Every battle you fought I did fight

You think I wasn’t there but I was there

The pains that I felt were for real

Your anguish, despair and your suffering

Everything you felt I could feel

You think I wasn’t there but I was there

I stood bowed with God at my side

The tears that I wept could have drowned me

My emotions had nowhere to hide.

You think I wasn’t there but I was there

I was the one shaking in fright

I prayed that I would be taken

In return for you lasting the night

You think I wasn’t there but I was there

Each moment, each second, each day

You may think I wasn’t there but I was love

Every moment, every second, every day.

 

Ring your bells.

 

Ring your bells to this way toll

To resonate in glory

Then sit you down and listen hard

I’ll tell to you a story

On glistening hills, on rolling moor

In the autumn of the year

Full howling gale and hard black rain

Whose noise it filled the air

The stranger rode his snorting beast

His eyes were coal black holes

Through the drowning rain he came

To seek the fingered souls

The sickly child, the tortured wife

He found them all with ease

Then ripped their souls with bloody lust

And cast them to the breeze

The innocent, the guilty too

They fell to fill his load

With cackle laugh and streaming cloak

He thundered down the road

Rich or poor, the lost and found

If named and on his list

Their epitaph was writ in blood

They died beneath his kiss

So harken now and heed this tale

When next the storm doest break

For death will ride the highways

With his list of souls to take

Life is there to live in full

Each day a precious gift

For the only man who fears not death

Is the man who never lived.

 

Peter Pan

I remember walking in Hyde Park in London and coming across a statue of Peter Pan and thinking about it later this poem drifted into my mind.

Peter Pan lives in the park now

He stands on a mountain of stone

His gaze is fixed past the serpentine

To a place faraway that was home

Pan lives in the park now

In bronze he is tethered and cold

There is something of death about him

But yet he will never grow old

Pan lives in the park now

The casting hides his yearning to fly

But I swear if you look at him closely

You can see a bronze tear in his eye

Pan lives in the park now

No music, no children to play

Eternity stretches before him

As day rolls to night rolls to day

Pan lives in the park now

Neverland will be never again

Because Pan he dies in the park now

And if you see him you will feel his pain.

 

Mary Magdalene

Pic4

This is one of the first acrylic paintings I attempted back in 2012. I saw an image of a broken piece of sculpture somewhere and it inspired me to paint this picture. I had only painted in water colours and not very well at that, so it was a step into the dark for me. No-one else likes the painting but it has always held ‘something’ for me.