The Sleep of Reason

Take it as written
Take it as a given
Years past of unproven denial
Natures law smites all that do not bear fruit
Critical thinking lies broken
What roads did they ever lead me too ?
A slow tepid boil that spurred no useful moves
So I have written
So it shall be
As it always was
Had I been brave enough see
To hold a steady gaze upon a heaving sea
A horizon swells distorting solid ground
Distant hills in haze
Unmoveable truth
Miles away from my mundane planes
None the less shall I impact them
Hysterical view points shield me
Point blank impact now
A sudden stop.
Ever tighter the chains that bind.

New Moon

Icy sideswipe
Sickle moon slice
Wind blasts
Sky spliced
North star flung
From violent arc.

Evergreens ?

I cannot make you any promises
As bright winds blast the January walls.
Bare branches moan
Corner stones whistle their age old tune
Enforced seasonal renewal by threatened death of the old
Can you take the chance its a bluff ?
Best move on, tis getting cold...

A new year starts pristine and clean
At least for a day.
A planetry movement  weve designed to numb pain ?
But fate fights those gears
Slippage.
A rip tide you could say....
Dragging around what which was always coming your way...


I cannot keep my promises
At least not as I told.
Still of night confessions
When I felt so bold.
Charged up on the good stuff, what ? I should fold ? !
Candles blazed, flames roared, wax streamed...
Dirty brown haze, violent moon
Whorish winds blew.
Worldly agenda slewn...
Sea fire memories filled my crackling rooms.
My recollections perfectly corrupted
Raw, but all true.

Supermoon

She's coming, she's coming
A pregnant surprise.

Pendulum emotions
Beam from on high.

A stillness too queasy
With vertigo highs...

Supermoon.

Past conquests leave their mark from centuries gone by
The agony and ecstasy, and too truthful lies....
Romantic echoes both shimmer and shine
All mixed together and showered from on high.

Who cares to judge ?
Who has the time ?
For some souls beginning THIER  journey tonight !

Migration

A cold wind blasts as swallows arrive
North wind moans through telecom wires
Heavy swings of laden cable
A virtual road to far off lands

Under black seas miles from land
My dark thoughts pulse through heavy wire
Surging sea weed ebbs and flows
Consecative view points closely spaced
Travel together in uniform

Where is the land from where they came ?
When they've gone, where do they go ?
Were they ever here ?
Only thier return brings any solice
A migrational mystery once more begins

The Archetype

Bubbling, bruised magnificent Madonna
Archetype
Genius
Produces the goods
Her hands unsoiled.

I Watch My Garden From A Far

The abandoned garden continues to grow, though a man may die in its making
Seen from afar its dereliction is beauty
Vases break, roots create...
What was always going to be form
I can still see the marks I made
Now others are wielding their spades
They make these outlines out to be their own
But I still see my work as set in stone.

A fullness lush has blossomed
I always knew one day I wouldn't hold it
A young mans work to toil and dig
To take disappointments in HIS stride
Maybe one day I will enter
See my form beneath brambles
My masterpiece yet to be reclaimed


When you invest years in a cause you cannot maintain, this folly will always forever be a part of you...
2015 / David Haygarth

They've Hijacked Your Mind !

They hijacked your mind
They took more than they said
Quite impossible to say
When they entered your head
Only the panic now
Barely disguised
Names you a moron
From words that were wise...


They hijacked your mind
They killed it dead
Guilt racks your pleasure
Your car spills out lead
Your children agree
Your crime deserves time
Killing the planet ?
After all this damned time...
                                                                                                                                            

They hijacked your mind
When it comes to crime
Who needs do the time ?
A shady elite
Not from these shores
Nationality's untouched
Judgement abhorred
No appetite for justice
And racially floored !


They hijacked your mind
Wasn't always this way
No one was scared
To once think and say
We knew what we knew
And said what was said
Before political whingers
All twisted our heads



Media cosh
Bashes quietly away
Decades of subterfuge
Moulding the clay
A Golum emerges deep in the mind
Snatching our children
Snatching our pride
Queasy uneasy
Swaying our brains
Is it really fair
What you want to say ?



I don't know when exactly it happened, but we have lost the respect for our own views. The politically correct movement are spoken about in jest, but this is only because we subcontioulsy know we have been slain by their years on years of subtle mental abuse and manipulation. Re-claim your mind !

2015

Shopping List

 A cold white night
 Bodies hidden
 Moribund column
 Vacant status
 Registration present
 Waiting ready
 Elsewhere moving
 Quit the game
 All blameless
 Sardines
 List of hope
 All Avatars



Face Book Friends list, early Sunday morning /   2015
 

The Shipping Forecast

Life be like

That horrible hour

After Poetry Please

Early hours Sunday morning

No one hears you scream...


Self explanatory . Nothing can compete with the feeling of emptiness like Radio 4's Shipping Forecast music. Once quite the opposite was true...  / 2015

Snow Drops

White pearly orbs of unbalance
Briefly break through cold wet earth
Yearly throbs of melancholy
Some of childhood
Some of loves
Reminders of past joys approaching
Seasonal flits of clarity.


2015

Are You Alone ?

Are you alone ?
To answer the question requires a mirror
To answer the question requires another
Another, another to bounce the sound off
To listen for echoes
Of mimicked returns

A radios power diode glows red
No sound
White light blinds from my laptop screen
Black Tar McAdam outside
And wet winters sheen                                                                                                                         
Memories now
Of days ago
All feel as distant as hills in the snow
General out lines however do fade
The details eroded
Corrosive melee.


2014    

Cold Wide World

Ice
White
Knight
Fights
On U.K shores                                                                                                
In bright moonlight

Meanwhile
Under some far flung Maple tree
There sits a woman
23

Women As Dragons

A swing, a click, a nick
Beheaded
De-friended
A dragon surely must be for the slaying ?
It wasn't your fault ;the course I'm taking
Ahead of your time
With that subdued smile
Subdued eyes
Your twisted stance
A pose of attack
Ahead of me by a country mile...

A softest smile of those dark eyes
Begins a dragons dance so wild
Mesmerised I stand, but I'm no fool
I belie my general air; The Fool
Battle scarred and weary am I
I safely stand behind the line
The line you know not that exists
The line I hold with iron fist


Our timeless battle erodes the seasons
Green spring
White winter
Warm autumns too.
My sword thats always hidden from you
Waiting for its final cue
Young dragons shimmer in Winters sun
Their beauty, many a mans undone

Inquisitively, finally you turn to face me
Natural attack mode comes in easy                                                                
Glittering coals of your dark eyed stare
New knowledge of all mans wants and cares                                                              
You've learnt the game
You learnt it early
Nothing more now can I do
But decide exactly why this battles due ?
This battle comes though much too late
It starts in jest
But ends in fate.



There comes a time in every womans life when she realises the power she has over all men /  2014

A New Front

Caught in the balance on misty heights
Unseen winds sway me slightly
Past views below terrify me
Once hidden by time
But now in sight
Laylah finds me unawares.

Stone cold denial
Just ignore me
A silent gaze
Obvious reeling
My pathetic aloofness
Sorry for my silence
But for a second time
And I will die !


Today something tried to return. Im not going back, though it is an eternal return... 2014

Penultimate

The waters of time came trickling by
A faded hue to the night Winter sky
Yellow stars, no white sparkle fly
Dark moonless night
The bedrocks now dry 
Crumbled dust
Blown away                                                                                                                         
False boredom demands
A new game to play.
                                                                                                                    
                                                                                                                           

What defines us changes constantly / 2014

The Beauty Circuit

Im tired of beauty
And after so long
The endless procession
The genes of the strong

Compulsory projections for all to enjoy
Pathetic distractions
An over used toy.
An ace in the pack ?
The ultimate ploy ?
More valued than wisdom
It comes yet by default
 A Womans best weapon
Is she now worth her salt ?

A new generation still plays this game
The image of beauty
A new on line game.
Truth be told this game is unfair
A road to misery
A grim road to " who dares "

This game never ends
Those pouts
Those poses
That must have shining hair...




A poem about the way lifes become / 2014

Im not happy with this ending however much I mess around with it. I shall sleep on it..

10 years later and its 2024 and im coming back to this forgotten poem and that final elusive line !!!

Moon Magic

Midday Summer sun
In midnight Winter sky
Moonlight hangs heavy over these hills tonight
Ethereal silver mist dissolving all that's mundane
A fairy tale landscapes defining this dale
Unseen things flitter seen barely from eye
Their unknown trajectory
From some other side

Rich velvet shadows float darkly, no sound
Childhood exuberance echoes around
An ordinary room conducts taps and those cracks
Sparkling with something that's trying to get back
To what and to where ?
Its deviations abound
Like rain on my window
A familiar sound.



 2014

Morgan

The North wind moans among chords of wire
Slicing the clear air of another dull Sunday afternoon
A reflection ? No, Im reflecting
On the fact that  ive once again been left without inspiration

She has heart, has fire, and fire abound,
Yet all that she treasures somehow burns to the ground  ?
Sometimes briefly  the wisdoms dispensed
All the more angry for that am I
Symphonies don't end in the blink of an eye
A thought, a symphony like hers, and she yet barely has to try
A master piece produced, dead pan, never an irony
No acknowledgement of achievement, no vanity or pride !

The world of the mundane eventually floods in
On line expectations never fulfil, and I can certainly vouch its so
Have I not spent seasons bound to an empty screen ?
I too have had my missions of attentions, in the past, time wasted, but at home
Two creatures are we, corrupted the same
And all those around us would see were the same, if...
Slash and burn of whats worthy was / never will be the answer !
To lie down at this stage ? Is there nothing more to gain ?
I know you know life never does change, eternally thwarted ?
Morgan, keep playing the game...


Not sure where this has come from this afternoon ! / 2014

Deep Winter

Crooked moon sat in the sky
Watches over silver ash
Water running sparkles by
Silent, fresh, crystal, wild
Pastels stones through clear water slide
Air is sharp with icy bite
Dull bells chime on muted night



Dents river Dee on a Winters afternoon... / 2012