ENDLESS THE MARCH IN TIME .. .

Posted on April 25, 2022 by edenbray

endless the march in time .. .

..

BOSTON LANDSCAPE - 1 - FRITHVILLE

. .. the endless march in time
          and the beat of your heart
I see the wolves teeth bared
        and hear the threatening thunder
the purple dome of mountains
        in the mid-distance where friends are
where the future folds the past
        some luscious yeasted dough
ovens warmed for roasting are not hell
        lanes that run and run in reverie
I meet my old girlfriends we hug
        the plaintiff moon hung in the evening sky
and of course my mother a little greyer
        a field of equidae of four hoofs and a tail
by the fields cadmium of yellow
        where fly the martin, swift and swallow
I brush your hair and tie it with a black ribbon
        old men fish but I a painter draw
you are naked on the heath
        your breasts hang perfectly always as they did
a working tractor is all I hear
      its engine warm and throaty
I dress you in your woolen coat
      our evening fires are lit by sunset
the streaming clouds are narrow
      the sun, a coddling egg lies in a hollow
my trees are coming into leaf with blossom
      I do not fear tomorrow .. .

                               ©edenbraytoday15.04.2022

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THERE ARE FAR TOO MANY RULES .. .

Posted on April 24, 2022 by edenbray

There are far too many rules .. .

.;/

beggars banquet

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We want you to be free
  to begin writing poetry
take walks in the park
  in this brave new world
which gets smaller every day
  yet that acrimonious smell
it is a stench overpowering
  it takes your breath away
there are far too many rules
  a rule for this, a rule for that
society originally decided
  to design laws and customs
there are far too many rules
  for our safety anyway
in our emerging new society
  the old learn from the new
the benefit of experience
is now effectively negated
Adam talks to Eve, Eve sleeps
  from her rib Adam then arrives
it is subjective what you think
  and what you feel is not real
what you hear and see you believe
  unless you believe it is a lie
or believe in a lie even while
  you can see it with your own eyes
there are far too many rules
  we are herded, cajoled, rodeoed
extend your mind, think sideways
quantam physics is a scientific theory
I look at nature around me every day
but does nature look at me at all
  now that I have two free tickets
for a Mahler symphony I like
I begin again each day walking free
eat at a seat at the beggar’s banquet

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        ©edenbraytoday24.04.2022

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A NEW PUBLICATION – The WAR POEMS – proceeds to DEC Charity

Posted on April 23, 2022 by edenbray

NeW Publication :

+ + + +

The War Poems

– all sales will go to DEC CHARITY who help victims of War + Refugees in Ukraine + surrounding countries

– DM me your full postal address for FREE delivery with PROOF of DONATION

– PAYPAL ME £8 inc p/p

– paypal.me/SeedProducts?l 

OR DONATE DIRECT at dec.org.uk

Or Finally Text SUPPORT to 70150 to donate £10 and provide proof and we will mail you a FREE COPY S.A.P.!

This BRAND NEW 24-PAGE PUBLICATION DEALS POETICALLY WITH THE THORNY AND PAINFUL SUBJECT OF WARFARE AND THE HUMAN AND EMOTIONAL PAIN CREATED WITHIN INDIVIDUALS, SOCIETIES AND ULTIMATELY OUR CULTURE  – edenbray TACKLES THE SUBJECT IN A POETIC WAY –  APPROACHES THE HORRORS OF WAR FROM MANY DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES AND OFFERS HIS OWN BRAND OF HONESTY, WISDOM AND OBJECTIVE ANALYSIS TO MAYBE AID US IN PROCESSING MORE EFFECTIVELY SOME OF THE PERSONAL HORRORS, LOSS AND TRAUMA OF WARFARE THAT EFFECT US ALL IN DIFFERENT WAYS –  edenbray OFFERS HIS OWN UNIQUE AND ALTERNATIVE INTERPRETATION MAKING NO SECRET OF HIS OWN HUMANITARIAN AND PEACE-LOVING PHILOSOPHIES WHILE RECOGNISING  THE VIEW THAT DESPITE NOT CONDONING WARFARE THERE ARE OCCASIONS WHERE IT BECOMES VITALLY NECESSARY TO COFIRM THE EQUILIBRIUM OF SOCIEY – edenbray AS USUAL WRITES WITH FEELING AND WITH A SIMPLE AND DIRECT OBJECTIVITY

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THE TREE KNOWS .. .

Posted on April 21, 2022 by edenbray

the tree knows .. .

the tree knows

outside my window there is a fracas
two cars have kissed who shouldn’t outta
now two drivers are awful pissed…

I fold my arms and swallow air
like a thousand times I’ve done before
anxiety syndrome – some things are not my problem

who taught me to be responsible for everybody’s pain
decorate this guilt within my hollow
that hole I’m not allowed now to call my soul

people hang things on you all the time
like the clothes your brothers wore
that ill-fitting bra your mother bought you from the discount store

who wants to be someone else
or go to the bottom of the class
learn to say things that you feel, even it breaks your heart

I’m learning not to reach so much for the bottle
though it distances me from the great Bukowski
who sounds like a magician, an escapologist or a tight-rope walker

we are none of these when we stand up
or kneeling under the sun, before Buda
the prophet Elijah we are told left this planet in a golden chariot

the guys outside have quietened down
exchanged addresses and their insurance cover
maybe they can be best friends if they get close outside the circle

the tree in leaf watches from the wings
tree has no choice for tree is a tree
trees know all the lines they can prompt you, tell the time


©edenbraytoday21.04.2022

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ON ROAD THE 600 .. .

Posted on April 21, 2022 by edenbray

ON THE ROAD

GYM KNICKERS – HIGHWAY 600 .. .

. .. and I am a painter
shocking with a stanley brush
or a stanley knife
the truth is out and squirming
two daisy flowers lie bruised
on the concrete floor that is ripping
holes in the ozone layer
twice, three times over
when what we don’t know
is more than
everything we learnt at my scabby school
except how we learned the alphabet
when were we introduced to paint
or the planet
Watt Tyler and the innocents
how to trace maps
nothing else is equal
no other words and thoughts
except maybe girls
in gym knickers
or defying the teachers
sex class was really bad
the woman who taught us
scaring us silly
about nodules on your willy
crabs on her slash
that’s if you decide to make it
with a girl in your class
had they even heard of condoms?
or conditioning or marketing
everyone pushing you
to do it the way you were taught
I never learned to boil an egg
wash a shirt or pay the bills
600 poems I have written
and so many, many, many more
on scraps of paper
on gas-bill wraps
poems I had thought of
the poetry of my life
some written down in journals
some on on-line sites
reflecting one thing I learned from a Mr. J.D.Laing
and that was by mistake
there is only one thing you cannot fake
speak of what you know
for petty fuck’s sake
fuck you AP, school and
everything I never learned

©edenbraytoday15.04,2022

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YULIA’S PICTURE .. .

Posted on April 18, 2022 by edenbray

Yulia’s Picture .. .

YULIA'S PICTURE

the bracken swallows the land
green and gargoyled
it destroys good black sod
full of minerals and of meaning
where the wheat corn might sway
it travels at an alarming rate
soil as dark and crumbled
as my children’s powder paint
where they hang their pictures
now that all may see
at a universal gallery
my fridge hangs on a ledge
hanging open its contents spread
I forgot to buy some milk
but now it does not matter
the picture my eldest child painted
a little torn, is of a recent trip
we spent some time away
south of Chornobyl by the lake
fridge magnets we have bought
from many different places
still cling to our refrigerator
the one we we spent a fortune on
last September before the bracken spread
I can still see them clinging, magnetic
and my sweet Yulia’s painting
in the picture on the newsreel
the one the world can see
in every other country
the march of time will never clear that fog
long after building dust
and cement may have settled
on the day we do our baking
the kids and me while Natalya is working
at the packing factory
but now my kids have been taken
a long way away
we cannot gather round for tea
to enjoy our day of baking
the vows we made lie broken
by the Russian army
their nation and its leader

©edenbraytoday17.04.2022

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RUNES IN THE GRANITE .. .

Posted on April 14, 2022 by edenbray

Runes in the granite!

war

Beneath stones of repetition

     constructed stories thrilled the imagination

history’s enclave subdued like

     sleeping dogs replete who will waken

their gnarled training fuels the corrupted

     veins of their organic solutions

emerging gainly the parachutes

     of contemplative absolution and books

we write lines in vapour upon the

     halcyon of our darkness and harrow

the investigation of fears only

     heightens innate cerebral consternation

the aptitude of sleep, age, death

     will eradicate all unanswered questions

                                                                 ©edenbraytoday30.03.2022

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BY THE HILL AT WHITBY .. .

Posted on April 13, 2022 by edenbray

By the Hill at Whitby

WHITBY

By the sight of thee thy crumbling stones
thy pale, bleached devotion
mid books of learning
thy faith-filled gall
not surrendered yet
despite all this castigation
of Caedmon’s poem

We gather, rent of our disposition to deify
where easterly winds fly
the shells of our invaders
upon the promontory
austere, clandestine
removed, asinine, bleak
prone to solipsism

Wrestle the nightmares of thy youth
write pain of thine infirmity
writhe the vampire
imbibe his hidden grail
not feared of gargoyle
nor despot, dane, nor abbes
nor vexed of declining shoreline

Opening to thy windswept earth vernal
womb to thy mother’s bruising
bones of the stigmata
layered neath thy holiness
thy ageing strata
loosing their remains
given of thy raging sea

Long the night winds batter constant
the lashing rain’s fervency
provoking dissemination
determined in its decay
where trees denied
cannot grow nor minster
as communities of grace

The war torn manner of thy heritage
fits not the life of the chaste
hermits, christ’s brides, hide
thine lives in honest living
honour offers within
thy soulful giving
obedience paid with shilling

By the hill at Whitby I fly a flag of peace
where lies souls deceased
amid thy ruined past
thine harbour shelter
oft thy rampant sea
thy foe, thy ravaged history
thine earnest prayers I see

                          ©edenbraytoday07.04.2022

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THE CONTEST .. .

Posted on April 5, 2022 by edenbray

the contest .. .

lets raise children

Narrative and subversion
  we talked well past night
of cannibals and bhikkhus
  to stand at green park
the corner of my stream
  a cold, cardboard case
unfolding a grey backdraft
  cerebral observations, blood
here comes your bayonet
  to put an end to that plaintiff
the nights we drove through
  fire and arable exclusion
the windows open, throwing
  bad memories after good
into the past of Doctor Seuss
  stopped for the hitchhiker
who has been further on
  in this contest of life where
only monkeys enjoy laughter
  absurdity wrestles all the time
with the grandest of illusions
  and at the side of the road
always a tri-horned deer
  not road-kill, who has breath
cumulus by the orange grove
  the apple orchard, the winery
they learn to tread softly
  upon your spherical hopes
your tired, complex dreams
  where the homeless bed
in woollen coats they found
  children are the only hope
we might love them to be better
  fresh raspberries for tomorrow

                              ©edenbraytoday03.02.2022

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TATTERED FLAG .. .

Posted on March 29, 2022 by edenbray

Tattered Flag .. .

soldier-British-trench-Western-Front-World-War

Down by the Ypres point
    I thought I saw an old woman
she was wearing a woollen shawl
    and in her eyes I only saw aloneness

In the dykes and in the gutter
    she searched in sorrow for her soldier boy
as she stabbed the rats away
    the woman had forgotten how to pray

Across the tawny grasses
    all standing in an uneven row
bowed backed and heavy with twilight dew
    she advanced on another bed of brothers

Thrown here and there
    she glanced at every face
and some she stopped to arrange their hair
    she wished she had still a prayer to say

The sound of gunfire in the distance
    reminded her of where she were
the age of these young lovers
    none to return to their mothers

Her lonely solitude now complete
    her soul beyond torment
her every tear was spent, she bent
    to another fallen lord believing now there was no God

An eerie shaft of sunlight fell
    upon a hill festooned of bodies
and there he lay full sail upon an open sea
    the son she bore it seemed a gentle smile he wore

She hoisted up one limpid flag that she had found
    then threw herself upon the ground to mourn
the night and cry the flag, it fluttered on the hill by light
    ‘aye a different sun and ‘aye the saddest sight

                                                               ©edenbraytoday29.03.2022

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