EDENBRAY in EXILE – 32 – honey pot

Posted on April 25, 2020 by edenbray

‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

… … …

HONEY POT

… … …

shutterstock_53742664-680x400

> <<

The uncomfortable truth

Like a swollen river flooding

Carries purpose with waste

And a tune you may only whistle

<<< >>>

No one can hold a soft, black moth

Or a paper fly in a calloused hand

Without damage or bruising conscience

It’s a deceit you are forced to learn

>><<

That face I love has grown older now

Innocence creased, wan and leathered

It still holds the memory that burns

Worth more now the envelopes open

<><>

Things go with you to the grave

Not just secrets, lies or murder

Words unspoken, silent confessions,

Quiet prayers queuing for an answer

<> ><>

In that velvet, purple journal

Love’s treasured moments rest

They glisten in their infancy

Colours of a pheasants chest

<>< <><

Lives lived with faces to the wall

Harsh choices made in haste

Loyalty a dark knight,

Filiality a burnished, beaten sword

<<> <>>

Hold it tight together

Your arms wrapped round it’s chest

What’s good, what’s brave, what’s honest

Dressed in gold, a silken vest

> <

writtenbyedenbray27.01.2017

#Authors Note: I’m sure it will have been argued somewhere and at some time or other – large and long – that the writer writes better under pressure. Under pressure of pain, of sense, of feeling, of travail, of persecution, of rage, of passion, of concern, of charity, of compassion, of regret, of guilt, of pride, of remorse, of resolve, of defence, of accusation, of belief – of love.

I loved the Honey Pot. edenbraytoday

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EDENBRAY in EXILE – 31 – the flag

Posted on April 25, 2020 by edenbray

‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

… … …

…

THE FLAG

…

▪️ ▪️

We fold the flag away

Either by length or width

Never by height or colour

..

We listen to the neighbours woe

Cover our eyes gladly with the corn

That grows through our window

..

Swaying in the breeze gently

Golden corn we hold in our hands

The summer fun has begun

..

So sadly the flag now folded

Of causes, conflicts and clatter

Things now that no longer matter

..

writtenbyedenbray02.02.2015

illustration: by edenbray ~ ‘the man with the wooden gun’

… … …

#Authors Note : Just 20 more Poems, Articles & Essays will complete Edenbray’s 2nd Retrospective Anthology – Those written Post – 2013 will sit alongside an Earlier Compilation Posted – late 2019 – early 2020.

This piece and/or the notes around it do not represent any strong personal political or anti-democratic view – they represent a purely, artistic and hypothetical submission – more along the lines of a – what if? An Imagine-2 – if you like? I only add this as an extra rider not out of fear or misunderstanding but to support the artistic freedom and idealism edenbrays whole portfolio represents. ~ ”The personal life is not dead’

‘The Flag’ was inspired by an Oil Painting by the Author – which was completed in early 1986. The painting itself although not my greatest work I feel does has a certain naivete and contains a powerful hypotheses. The painting depicts a “Universal Soldier” standing in a muddy field of battle and in front of a Universal Flag ,with no recognisable link to any nationality, creed or religion – The soldier is carrying a fake, replica, wooden rifle, basically a piece of shaped industrial timber – The theme of the Painting is loosely based on the lyric from John Lennon’s early 1970’s song –‘Imagine’ which dramatically challenged the Author at the age of 20 years and helped greatly in his spiritual development at that time.

The ‘wooden gun’ idea concept was introduced from a separate source – a shared dream – that a troubled, young, pentecostal bible-student called Michael told me about over a curry way back in 1972. The imagery related to an interpretation of a dream Michael had that concerned the devil himself and which suggested that Satan worries us and threatens us but actually has no effective weapon to destroy us as his weapon is a bluff, a harmless wooden gun!

I decided to ‘smash’ these two concepts into the one painting and while the Poem includes no obvious non-nationalistic or non-religious imagery it is written in the same style as the painting excepting that it is a lot more ‘unplugged’ and minimalistic.

As with a lot of these chosen Retrospective selections – this piece, written 5 years ago, seems to gel uncannily with the mood of life we have today in 2020, while under Covid-19 Lockdown restrictions. ~. edenbraytoday

Imagine

Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion, too

Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

You, you may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you will join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man

John Lennon. – Inspired reference

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EDENBRAY in EXILE – 30 – reconfigure

Posted on April 24, 2020 by edenbray

‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

… … …

RECONFIGURE

¤¤¤ ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤

Handfuls, he heaped handfuls

Were they petals, branches or fruit?

The monochrome diary glowed suddenly

He had been asleep for hours in band aids

Things his mother had said, bits of arse

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

There was a hut he had painted golden

and yellowed bears teeth

He always felt better in the mornings

When Arnott was around anyway

Her mouth, her hair, her eyes

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

This careworn morning he imagined

He saw skyrockets and fantails

People strolling, coming to lunch

Roll of green notes in his blue pocket

No grey pain to shake him down

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Always Fenna standing on Bella’s rock

Wearing boxers and a tantalising smile

Like a siren tug in granite sea

Where ships come to rest awkwardly

Bold barnacles grip black with tenacity

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

This summers day

The swallows returned purple

He was sure he would see a rainbow

Write letters in wet sand

Take his notebook off the wall

¤

writtenbyedenbray27.05.2014

… … …

Authors Note : I feel sure a reviewer would say – the author of this little piece of wonderment is not afraid to take risks.

Memo

I personally find this poem tantalising – Its staccato, edgy, humorous, unpredictable in a both ‘careering’ and ‘personal’ kind of way. Its subjective, mesmeric – but, it never strays from its purpose.- which is – to tell its story! Its obviously ‘biographic, challenging, lyrical, double-muffin golden,

The oddest thing about many of these retrospective pieces is for me – how well they appear to fit in with the way things are currently in the midst of a lockdown, pandemic society. This poem was written in 2014.

…

This careworn morning he imagined

He saw skyrockets and fantails

People strolling, coming to lunch

~ edenbraytoday

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EDENBRAY in EXILE – 29 – the old oak tree

Posted on April 23, 2020 by edenbray

‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

… … …

THE OLD OAK TREE

.. .

The old oak tree

makes an ancient eery sound

Its roots spread out

deep within the ground

.. .

The great old oak tree

is a worthy sight to see

I wish something like that

could be said of me

.. .

writtenbyedenbray1971

…

edenbray’s – Brave New World Collection ~ an introduction

#Authors Note : In keeping with the aims of this current Retrospective Anthology of written works by Edenbray since 2013 – to provide a rounded body of varied work from different time-scales – today’s selection is as accurate a rendition as memory serves of a piece written around 1970/71 – nearly 50 years ago!. The poem was originally one of five diverse pieces that were accepted for a publication entitled ‘This Britain’ which went on sale to the general public at that time.

This piece was the quieter and more reflective selection of the five which included four other Poems that challenged society, social values, politics, law, order and police enforcement, drug use, abuse and experience among other powerful issues.

The Poems themselves were regrettably mislaid and I have since made repeated attempts to rewrite them – if not word for word – then with the aim of capturing the same optimism, verve, colour and intensity I remember they were so brim full of.

I now call these Poems my personal “Brave New World Poems” and I hope to publish the remaining four re-writes on this Blog-site very shortly under the title – edenbraytoday

Posted in EDENBRAY in EXILE - A RETROSPECTIVE, edenbray POMES, edenbray's ~ BRAVE NEW WORLD COLLECTION | Tagged ART, FEELING, HOPES, NATURE, OPTIMISM, POEMS, SPIRITUALITY, TREES, WRITING | Leave a comment

EDENBAY in EXILE – 28 – georges roualt

Posted on April 22, 2020 by edenbray

‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

… … …

GEORGES ROUALT

an appreciation

… … …

This artist consistently escapes the art critics preoccupation with labelling and classifications …

The artist – his painting & his philosophy are generally watered down … not so with Georges Roualt.

His work sits raw … pulsating in a corner of its own …

He paints his feelings, daubs his emotions, bears his soul … yes, his darkest most personal and inner self … in Roualt’s world he is invisible, transparent, he has nothing to hide …

He has no shame – as an artist, no guilt appropriated or applied … His colours describe his humanity …

His line is exaggerated, rough and uneven … at the same time tempered, deft, perceptive …

He sees what he sees … as an artist … a true artist … his line describing his personal vision

He defines that line perfectly … like a blind man painting a woman …

He makes love with his art … his love is awkward, fumbling, over-wrought with passion and a rough energy … He dominates his work while showing enormous sensitivity … he touches the raw spirit and flesh like no other artist …

His work transcends time … its not modern, nor traditional … … it speaks to both … it roars, murmurs … it moans … it lives?!

Georges Roualt absorbed his art like a parent gull and in his art he disgorges warm chunks of life in palatable pieces that we ‘subadults’ may comfortably digest … with no fear of choking …

Give time to Roualt’s work and it will touch you … make you human again.

…

bio_rouault_georges

… … …

writtenbyedenbray10.02.2015

re-writtenbyedenbray22.04.2020

… … …

< on the left ~ edenbray’s attempt at ROUALT’s superb ECCO HOMO >

Posted in edenbray APPRECIATION, edenbray COMMENT, EDENBRAY in EXILE - A RETROSPECTIVE, edenbray OPINION, OBITUARIES | Tagged APPRECIATION, ART, COMMENT, FEELING, SPIRITUALITY | 1 Comment

EDENBRAY in EXILE – 27 – latrice

Posted on April 21, 2020 by edenbray

‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

… … …

‘Latrice, He Said ~ I Wanna’ Be Bob Dylan’

… … …

–

〒

The night has tumbling skies

As auburn red as Lilly’s gorgeous hair

So barren the awful sentiment that hits

And harms two fateful twins bonded

〒

Pearls and advantaged peoples

Share the amalgam of constraint

Twisted, warm and fatalled by

The erroneous pressure of form

〒

Belittled, bedraggled, frustrated

Where are the moments of extremity

That elude our wildest aspirations

Or formulate the dawn of our preposition?

〒

Bella, Tarim, Fuchsia and Madre

So simply contented are opposed

By the context of their unborn attenuations

Or the altruism of their conformity

〒

So ultimately translated and bereft

From the endeavour of our collusion

Perfectly entwined, assimilated and adored

Translated for a later generation

〒

Nothing so noble as to separate this moment

Or call vacant the felony of new certainty

Where only migrant peoples occur

Or the trials of aptitude fade incandescent

–

writtenbyedenbray16.05.2013

… … …

Authors Note: I promised to provide as comprehensive and varied an Anthology in this 2nd Retrospective of Edenbray’s work.

In this piece we are invited to participate in an ode of celebration for two literary stiles as diverse as time and circumstance MIGHT divide them. Two literary masters and troubadours of totally separate ages and experience who told tales for audiences for one and the same reason. My sincere belief is that Shakespeare and Dylan would share a mutual respect and admiration for each others work and then Counting Crows put the idea in my head from another lyrical piece of their own that was a song and then Edenbray penned it out, fleshed it out. You dig ?! … ~ edenbraytoday

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EDENBRAY in EXILE – 26 – spytone 1003

Posted on April 19, 2020 by edenbray

‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

… … …

SPYTONE 1003

I live in the somewhere else

In the in-between

I walk like a ghost

Dream like a host

To an alien form

My allegiance torn

My purpose born

But not discovered

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

I am an ant on a trail

Am a burrowed snail

Of tortured moments shared

But not forgotten

For the perceptive

And the shallow

I am inward, bent

Mysterious yet callow

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

The interrogator’s smile

So back in style

Now placed on file

Like many friends and trinkets

Who mention love

With a surgeon’s glove

Then stand aside

To murder then to profit

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

:::writtenbyedenbray29.09.2014

#Authors Note: An Ode to Espionage – ‘the forgotten word’. I wrote this piece in 2014 at a time when SPYDOM appeared to have gone quiet and the so-called Post-war spies of the COLD-WAR era seemed a long way away, if not completely forgotten! This poem belongs to a group of what might be termed Jazz-poems which in turn form part of a wider collection of Prog-prose – my classification. They are not intended to be romantic, symbolic, not politic right-wing, left-wing subversive, humanist or liberal-organic. They are poems that are visual, personal reflections sometimes based on my own fears and concerns that may contain latent, personal opinion. Other than that they are just groups of words. edenbraytoday

Posted in edenbray COMMENT, EDENBRAY in EXILE - A RETROSPECTIVE, edenbray POMES, JAZZ POETRY, PROG-PROSE | Tagged COLD WAR, ESPIONAGE, INTERROGATION, POETRY, POLITICS, SPIES | Leave a comment

EDENBRAY in EXILE – 25 – albion: the rich man’s son

Posted on April 19, 2020 by edenbray

‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

… … …

ALBION : THE RICH MAN’S SON

…

Ψ Ψ Ψ Ψ Ψ

‘Fiddlesticks and fannies’ young Marmaduke

The king won’t speak well a’ yourn – nor will he offer coin

He rewardeth only those who subjugate themselves

Show proper deference to the throne and this royal land

Ψ Ψ Ψ Ψ Ψ

This island is shrouded in a mist of uncertainty

And horses stall at sight of the unicorn o’ bathed in blood

Or careering as the ashen rider into a haelen’ storm

Whence the Wallace and the Roy did gi’ na’ quarter

Ψ Ψ Ψ Ψ Ψ

Long-ships once came upon a hapless maid with child

Who once called and her doting father answered

Now his honour challenged, displaced wi’ squander

There still remain one chance for he to render

Ψ Ψ Ψ Ψ Ψ

To ride the prince’s mount, the white horse regal

And clear ‘the heir’ of storm, of rock, of mischance

And to his own favoured arm bring forth her beauty

Unity ~ tailored, washed, pressed, laundered, referred

Ψ Ψ Ψ Ψ Ψ

Then stepped forth a shepherd’s son with locks

Full and gentle he and sporting yellered flowers

A dalliance with a restless cousin whose black mane

Curved and plaited with meadow grass the colour of her eyes

Ψ Ψ Ψ Ψ Ψ

These pair, the only refuge now for Albion’s son

Who heard from birth of succulent lands his rich father

Held control and sway and where he dipped his soldiers

The yarn stretched and torn around his masters tartan shawl

writtenbyedenbray06.09.2014

ɣ ɣ ɣ ɣ ɣ

… … …

#Authors Note : Edenbray on satire, on poetry – a double-bluff – You can tell this from this ~ that edenbray has always admired early Dylan – thats Bob not Thomas even though he were a Welshman – Riddles are as Riddle may ma’ dear – to quote – he who hath none to share but one – see, its easy when you know – but more interesting when you don’t.

No one can understand true satire like an Englishman – not a Scot, NOT a Welsh or Irish or any of the gaelic order – so it must be the truest, English part of me from whence thith came and I a friend and true and loyal Scot, a grandson of Irish true logic and the reddest hair who wears a true love of our Union sewn like a tattoo upon his fleshly, garment sleeve, blue and turquoise as a woad-man, red as spilt dragons blood, green as a Patrick prayer holy, sturdy as a Harlic beard so blonde and curly. – So, be it seen this day in Albion – fair sister, my own and truest brother that we together ARE indeed a Rich-man’s son & God bless you – all – dear British people at this so terrible time and amidst this so terrible pandemic brutal. edenbraytoday

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EDENBRAY in EXILE – 24 – i sat with eddie …

Posted on April 17, 2020 by edenbray

‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

… … …

I SAT WITH EDDIE …

DEBARTOLO

a golden man

Sitting with Eddie deBartolo ~ A Poem

⾦

I stood in the bleachers with Eddie last night

I sat on the sofa with my family and friends

We feasted and dined, on V.S.O.P. we wined

For the 2nd time on this golden night I cried

⾦

I cried cos I’m crazy, my emotions were pinched

Could not hardly believe, my fingers were singed

The smoke and the ale and the smell of success

Drifted through my eyes, my brain, my conscience torn

⾦

These nights when fans are born and grey men smile

We work-worn members, working classes whose trial

Littered with small moments like babies, barroom fights

Wedding nights, stolen sights, stars that still shine bright

⾦

The separation of wills, the challenge is the sport

The fox, the hole, the slippery turf, the goal

And out there are no prisoners only soldiers true

Whose blood mixed warm may fall on winters snow

⾦

Or crease the night and scar the head or sap the strength,

Of warriors true, of bastions of courage and legions who

Empty houses and quietly lift the hopes of dreaming men

Who now caught like struggling insects may break free

⾦

This golden web, now an adornment for a maidens head

Whose ointment runs through all we say, all we do

In this modern age, what makes us faithful, loyal and true?

What blinds us from greed, unites us from pressure to work

⾦

I sat with Eddie in the bleachers last night, I carried the flag

I wrestled Leviathan, caught the claws of the falcon

Spat out the blood and feathers that spattered and littered the ground

And watched faithfully as the umber green field-turf

Turned through red to brown to gold

⾦

sportspoem writtenbyedenbray21.01.2013

… … …

http://49erfaithfulukdotcom.wordpress.com/

–

⾦⾦⾦⾦⾦⾦

⾦ chinese symbol for gold

…

#Authors Note ~ The 2nd sports Poem features NFL American Football, a passion of mine since the mid 80’s when Eddie DeBartolo was the bold, charismatic, entrepreneurial owner of the San Francisco 49ers franchise who, charged with having breached certain rules, by implication, had to relinquish his position, resign and hand over the running of the organisation to his sister and brother-in-law. His absence contributed to the start of a period of decline but after a poor period in their history the franchise rallied again and enjoyed a couple of successful campaigns. During this period of team renaissance and on an important playoff night the by now disciplined and pardoned Eddie DeBartolo returned as a guest to make his peace and enjoy a night of celebration as the team enjoyed a memorable night of victory and celebration. This poem was inspired by that night! edenbraytoday

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EDENBRAY in EXILE – 23 – the night i discovered football ~ a poem

Posted on April 16, 2020 by edenbray

‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

… … …

◉

The Night I Discovered Football

(0r the Battle of Stamford Bridge)

…

◉

Lawman, Bobbie and the ‘Best’

And the soft rain that fell that deep, blue night

I fell out of the sky and the green-striped tiger

Took my heart and pain for the 1st time

On wooden seats where real men gather to dream

◉

I saw Bestie ‘hide’ the ball, he always played

Like a greedy boy up the park ,while Charlton coursed

The battle-fields of Flanders, Verdun, the Somme

And young Dennis, so cheeky and sharp radiated charm

Like a sidewinder with a venom sting who wore a ‘Colgate’ ring

◉

That night I heard the sound of the leather ball

Heavy with wet rain, like oily sweat and bald shouts

The cloaked-crowd hushed, an army of rabid bees

That caught the odour of burnt wood

As deep as a scarred woman’s perfumed caress

◉

Suddenly I was a man and my heroes sportsmen

Who made a kind of sex on Saturdays at 3pm sharp

Or on nights like these when floodlight-stars sparkle silver-white

Mingle with the stench of burnt onion and bar-room doors open

The shouts of programme sellers, vendors, such honest traders

◉

When we lose our order and our souls

For just the love of a game that can never end

Even when we remain true and bind our hands to the pole

Or promise a never-ending virtue women covet

◉

writtenbyedenbray14.05.13

#Authors Note – There now follows 2 Sports posts within the context of EDENBRAY-in-EXILE – The 2nd Edenbray Retrospective Anthology – I am unashamedly – a Sports fan – not quite as extreme as one of my absolute heroes – Ernest Hemingway – who was a great lover of ‘sport’ and in particular a positive advocate for the ultimate ‘contest’ between man and beast ~ The Bull Fight – These days not considered a popular point of view.

Where did that come from? edenbraytoday

Posted in EDENBRAY in EXILE - A RETROSPECTIVE, edenbray POMES | Tagged ARCHITECTURE, BOBBY CHARLTON, DENNIS LAW, FEELING, FOOTBALL, GEORGE BEST, POETRY, SPORT, STAMFORD BRIDGE | Leave a comment

‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

HONEY POT

… … …

> <<

<<< >>>

>><<

<><>

<> ><>

<>< <><

<<> <>>

> <

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‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

THE FLAG

…

…

▪️ ▪️

We fold the flag away

Either by length or width

Never by height or colour

..

We listen to the neighbours woe

Cover our eyes gladly with the corn

That grows through our window

..

Swaying in the breeze gently

Golden corn we hold in our hands

The summer fun has begun

..

So sadly the flag now folded

Of causes, conflicts and clatter

Things now that no longer matter

..

writtenbyedenbray02.02.2015

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‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

RECONFIGURE

¤¤¤ ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤

¤¤¤ ¤¤¤ ¤¤¤

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

¤

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‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

THE OLD OAK TREE

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‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

… … …

… … …

GEORGES ROUALT

… … …

… … …

… … …

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‘Edenbray in Exile’

A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays

‘Latrice, He Said ~ I Wanna’ Be Bob Dylan’

〒

The night has tumbling skies

As auburn red as Lilly’s gorgeous hair

So barren the awful sentiment that hits

And harms two fateful twins bonded

〒

Pearls and advantaged peoples

Share the amalgam of constraint

Twisted, warm and fatalled by

The erroneous pressure of form

〒

Belittled, bedraggled, frustrated

Where are the moments of extremity

That elude our wildest aspirations

Or formulate the dawn of our preposition?

〒