Ode to a Headache

O Headache, thou art a silent warrior, with a crown of thorny rose,

That tightens with an iron grip, from my temples to my nose.

Thy subjects, we, in futile fight, do seek to ease our plight,

With potions, pills, and whispered spells, in the dimming of the light.

“Ode to a Headache," I do declare, with a wry and weary smile,

For this royal pain within my head has lingered quite a while.

It taps upon my temples, a relentless, throbbing beat,

A reminder of the night before, and all that I did eat.

The chocolate was a villain, red wine played its part,

Each a merry prankster in the throbbing of my heart.

But fear not, for this tale does hold a twist or two,

For I've found a secret weapon, a potion tried and true.

With water as my ally, and rest to lead the charge,

I'll banish this foul jester, and set my brain at large.

Silken Night

Her hair, a cascade of shadows, spun from silken night,

Frames her work, a masterpiece, in the morning's gentle light. Drawing closer, she weaves a path, where flowers bloom and grow,

As if the earth itself responds, to the grace she does bestow.

Scientia

We probe the boundless cosmic night,

And in the atom's heart, we seek the light.

We claim the mysteries that nature hides,

But chase reflections of our minds.

Scratch pad: poems

Upon the stage of fate, in Deptford’s gloom,

Where cobblestones echoed with whispered dread,

Marlowe, with gasping breath, met his doom,

"Neptune’s ocean clears not this blood," he said.

In that dimly lit, foreboding room,

The world had lost a voice, too early, too soon.

..…

It begins with a murmur, a sigh in the trees,

Then, droplets commence, carried soft on the breeze,

Tapping on windows, like spirits that prance;

The earth, parched and longing, lifts its face to the dance,

Embracing each drop, with a grateful sigh,

A perfume of rain descends from the sky.

The rivers and streams, once silent and slow,

Now babble and chatter, as they swell and flow.

…..

Write no more of what could be, of shadows in the night,

But turn instead to what is real, and hold her to you, tight.

For love, when lived, in flesh and blood, surpasses every tale,

The poet’s dream, no longer sought, in her, at last, unveiled.

Scratch pad: Limerick

A baron from old Aberdeen,

Declared, "Our weather’s so verily mean!"

One minute it’s sunny,

The next, it's all runny,

It’s like nature’s own washing machine!

Depths

In depths where earth’s rich heart lies bare and vast,

Where rivers sing to mountains, old and wise,

There blooms a love as wide, as deep, as fast,

As stars that dance in unending skies.

With words as tender as the day’s first kiss,

A voice, in whispered tones, confides,

Revealing love’s most intricate abyss,

Where every shadow, every light, resides.

I See

I was the song in a heart’s quiet plea,  

A melody of what was meant to be.

I was, and yet, I am still here,  

In every laugh, in every tear.  

I was the whisper before the dawn,  

The first hint of light on a day reborn.  

 

I am the murmur in the morning breeze,  

The quiet hum that dances through the trees.  

I am the shadow stretching at the dawn,  

The fleeting moment before the night is gone.

I am the silence in a crowded room,  

The lingering scent of a hidden bloom.

I am the warmth of a heartfelt embrace,  

The clear calm in our sacred space.

I am the courage in the face of fear,  

The steadfast hope that draws you near.

 

I will be the warmth in the winter's cold,  

A comforting embrace retold.

I will be the laughter in the rain,  

Turning each sorrow into our refrain.  

I will be the relief in the storm's rage,  

A steady presence, an unwavering face.

I will be the peace in the tumultuous sea,  

A beacon of hope for you and for me.

I will be the dream that never fades,  

A myriad of colours in endless shades.  

I will be the courage in your heart,  

A promise that we shall never part.

I will be all that I can be, 

For in my eyes, it's you I see.

Unclothed of thoughts

Unclothed of thoughts, murmuring in the breeze,

Under the audience of the leaves,

Where lips feel the warmth of other lips:

Mine yearn for you, deeper in your kiss.

By night we have our chance,

Embraced in a candlelit trance;

Though lifetimes keep our arms apart,

In dreamscape realms, we share a single heart.

As Shadows Fade

In the dawn, as light creeps in,

As shadows fade on skin to skin,

The groan still lingers, soft and sweet,

Upon one breathing, tender beat.

 

In the cool of day, when bodies part,

Still beats the rhythm of a single heart.

Though distanced, we are as one,

Bound by what the night had spun.

Dedication

In the unending echo of my thoughts, you reside,

An artist who paints on the expansive canvas of my mind.

Threads of reason unravel, thoughts dance in an uncontrolled sway,

And from this chaotic ballet, a melody of madness begins to play.

Scratch pad: poem

In solitude's shadow, I walk alone,

A self-imposed exile from all I've known.

My truth, enclosed within sternest stone,

In fear of ever being shown.

Scratch pad: poem

In quest of life's grand purpose, here I muse,

Upon this earthly stage, where all must play;

Each heart in search of truth, in time does choose

The path it walks, beneath night or day.

The Staircase

A traveller in a labyrinth of unending rise,

Each step a mystery, each floor a disguise.

Pursued by a ghoul, relentless and dire,

His only respite, to endlessly aspire.

Doors he’s opened, realms explored,

Yet always, the stairs are restored.

Back to the climb, his inescapable fate,

Through doors of chance, or those that wait.

Some yield to kindness, some to might,

Others remain sealed, despite the fight.

Doors untried, secrets they keep,

While open ones passed as if asleep.

For respite, he enters doors ajar,

Seeking sustenance, near and far.

In the stairwell’s grip, he cannot rest,

Lest the terror behind completes its quest.

Weariness grips, his pace now slowed,

The shriek behind of dread and forebode.

Yet on he must go, in this stairway’s embrace,

Seeking an end to the relentless chase.

Beware the Doors

Beware the doors, lined in rows,

Each a story, each a pose.

Tempting knocks, with promises spun,

Yet in their frame, a journey’s undone.

 

For in this trip of life, so vast and wild,

Lose not yourself, nor be beguiled.

Resist the lure, of treatment unkind,

In the strength of true self is the peace you'll find.

 

Return to the road, let soul be your guide,

In the passing of life, let your spirit preside.

Berries

Berries, bright as blood upon the snow,

Speak of life amidst the deathly white,

A symbol of the warmth that embers show,

When winter logs burn and hearts alight.

The Unknown

When life challenges what we think we know,

And casts old certainties into the sea,

We find our truest self begins to grow,

In new realms of endless possibility.

 

The mirror of the soul reflects but a part,

Of truths we hold as constant and as dear,

Yet openness of mind and depth of heart,

Reveals a world where nothing is quite clear.

 

Our lives are adventures on this earth,

With tales of mystery and unknown ends,

Each step a part of the universe's birth,

In this grand play where time and space extends.

 

Embrace the unknown with a fearless heart,

For in that leap, life's truest stories start.

Lonely Fields

In lonely fields, where silent thoughts tread,

Many a soul, in quiet, walks alone.

Even in love, where hopeful words are said,

Deep understanding remains unknown.

 

The transient thrill of passion’s early light,

When faded, leaves a deeper, lonelier night.

An Essence

Within the silent theatre’s sleeping walls,

Does an echo of performance dare to dwell?

When no soul in the darkened chamber calls,

Does art, unseen, still cast a vibrant spell?

 

A lone ballerina’s pirouette,

Spun with the grace of whispered solitude,

Exists as truly as the sun does set,

Though no eyes will judge the view.

 

For art, when unobserved, retains its form,

As does the nightingale’s unheard refrain;

It needs no gaze to validate its norm,

Nor applause to justify its pain.

 

Thus, though unknown, the act remains pure,

The essence, born of hope and love, endures.

Names

I claim my right to wander through each field,

To be the sum of all my parts and more,

With every breath, a new song revealed;

A human truth that names ignore.

Though tempting it is to group me with the rest,

To render me a simple, static thing,

Such boundaries leave truth suppressed,

For I’ve the right to be myself and sing!

Unjust Glow

In quiet chambers of my brooding heart,  

A lurking guilt murmurs, undefined;

Though I inquire, it does not depart,  

A spectral woe that upon me dines.  

To pathos drawn, like fungus to a tree,  

Yet why this grief exists, I scarcely know;

Enshrouded in a self-made mystery,  

I dwell imprisoned by an unjust glow.  

But the key to lift this heavy veil  

Resides not in the solace of my mind.  

It is when for others' joy my efforts hail,  

The fetid chains are left behind.  

Thus, in the living for the spirit of thee,  

I find the path that sets my soul free.