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There are few things in the world as dangerous as sleepwalkers.

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There are few things in life

I

There are few things in life
that will equate,
the freedom
that you get on a motorbike.

II

Speed and power is something
that can easily grab you
and maybe you can fetch the same
adrenalin rush
if you parachute
or go down with a bungi rope,
but it’s maybe better to be part
of a iron horse
and alone with your self
and with the wind and the sun
see the road flashing by.

III

Let cars stand in rows
and busses full of unknown people
stop at many places,
while my blue motorbike
passes them
and drive to my destination.

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Simple Observation #55 - There are more things in heaven and earth..............

There are more things in heaven and earth than what can be read about in any book
and there are certain things in this world that deserve or require more than one look.

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There Are Times/ When All The Beauty Of This World

THERE ARE TIMES/ WHEN ALL THE BEAUTY OF THIS WORLD

There are times
When all the Beauty of this world
Is not.
When fear and darkness are all
When inside anxiety reigns
And nothing can help
Against the fear.

There are times
When it seems
Nothing good will ever come again

And in these times
Poetry too seems like empty words
Whose very sound means only
Nothing and more nothing.

There are times
When even a poem
Cannot help.

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Byron

Stanzas For Music: There's Not A Joy The World Can Give

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away
When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decay;
'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast,
But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past.

Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of happiness
Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt, or ocean of excess:
The magnet of their course is gone, or only points in vain
The shore to which their shivered sail shall never stretch again.

Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down;
It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own;
That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears,
And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears.

Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast,
Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest,
'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruined turret wreath—
All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath.

Oh, could I feel as I have felt, or be what I have been,
Or weep as I could once have wept, o'er many a vanished scene;
As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be,
So, midst the withered waste of life, those tears would flow to me.

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There are more things...

There are more things in my head,
Than on heaven and Earth.
I just haven't found them.
Even though,
I dragged the corners of my mind.

© 2012

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In Old Age/ There Are Few Second Chances

IN OLD AGE/ THERE ARE FEW SECOND CHANCES

In old age
There are few second chances-
I seem to have one now-
Will I have the courage and good sense
To correct my work
As I have rarely been able to do before?
Or will I go to my grave
Leaving only typo- filled pages behind?

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There Is Something Different To The World Tonight (Rondine)

There is something different to the world tonight,
something that changes mere existing,
that with its essence reaches out to everything,
that brings joy that happens out of sight;
I see some stars dazed others shining bright,
hear bats, some owls that are fluttering.
There is something different,

and life feels great everything is alright
I wonder what strange thing is happening,
but then your presence gives me the feeling,
brings to my life some bliss and delight,
there is something different…

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There Are Numerous Things That I Find

There are numerous things that I find,
on the atlas of your lovely body,
sometimes eddies with wandering deer,
deep valleys where tranquil waters flow

places of shelter where my ship can anchor
and also a storm tossed raging ocean
with in its blue goes to the depth of your soul

and dreams, silences and hopes and joys
I find with you and a kind of intimate trembling,
that yearns for a much deeper kind of contact
as if in our togetherness in pleasure we are dying

in tender touch, in bliss and in sweet tranquillity
we celebrate the life that pulses as we come together,
you open to me like morning glories waiting
upon the rays of the sun, with blessing of sudden heat.

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There Are Worse Things I Could Do

There are worse things I could do
Than go with a boy or two
Even though the neighborhood
Thinks Im trashy and no good
I suppose it could be true
But there are worse things I could do
I could flirt with all the guys
Smile at them and bat my eyes
Press against them when we dance
Make them think they stand a chance
Then refuse to see it through
Thats a thing Id never do
I could stay home every night
Wait around for mr. right
Take cold showers everyday
And throw my life away
On a dream that wont come true
I could hurt someone like me
Out of spite or jealousy
I dont steal, and I dont lie
But I can feel, and I can cry
A fact Ill bet you never knew
But to cry infront of you
Thats the worse thing I could do

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There Are Worse Things I Could Do

There are worse things I could do, than go with a boy or two
Even though the neighborhood thinks Im trashy and no good
I suppose it could be true, but there are worse things I could do
I could flirt with all the guys, smile at them and bat my eyes
Press against them when we dance, make them think they stand a chance
Then refuse to see it through, thats a thing Id never do
I could stay home every night, wait around for mr. right
Take cold showers every day, and throw my life away
On a dream that wont come true
I could hurt someone like me, out of spite and jealously
I dont steal and I dont lie, but I can feel and I can cry
A fact Ill bet you never knew
But to cry in front of you, thats the worst thing I could do

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There Are No Stars In The Sky Tonight

it is dark and there are no stars tonight
the sound of the waves from the sea has been
as harsh as it was this morning
the trees swing to the dictates of the strong winds
and here i am sitting on a chair seeing things
move and listening to the sounds of their being

how can i just be an ordinary spectator all these years?
seeing all the phenomena as they all come and go
and not staying even in the memory of my mind

i know the reason why, i know it from the very start
i am letting go all that confront me
not touching them even for fear of interfering
what nature wants to accomplish
for what each creature deserve to be
to each strand of its DNA to each destiny

it is the mere seeing of letting nature do what is best
for each of us
that makes this life alive
it is the flower that must open itself with all spontaneity
that i must see and feel
without the slightest touch of my fingers

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They are all Gone into the World of Light

1 They are all gone into the world of light!
2 And I alone sit ling'ring here;
3 Their very memory is fair and bright,
4 And my sad thoughts doth clear.

5 It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast,
6 Like stars upon some gloomy grove,
7 Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest,
8 After the sun's remove.

9 I see them walking in an air of glory,
10 Whose light doth trample on my days:
11 My days, which are at best but dull and hoary,
12 Mere glimmering and decays.

13 O holy Hope! and high Humility,
14 High as the heavens above!
15 These are your walks, and you have show'd them me
16 To kindle my cold love.

17 Dear, beauteous Death! the jewel of the just,
18 Shining nowhere, but in the dark;
19 What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust
20 Could man outlook that mark!

21 He that hath found some fledg'd bird's nest, may know
22 At first sight, if the bird be flown;
23 But what fair well or grove he sings in now,
24 That is to him unknown.

25 And yet as angels in some brighter dreams
26 Call to the soul, when man doth sleep:
27 So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes
28 And into glory peep.

29 If a star were confin'd into a tomb,
30 Her captive flames must needs burn there;
31 But when the hand that lock'd her up, gives room,
32 She'll shine through all the sphere.

33 O Father of eternal life, and all
34 Created glories under thee!
35 Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall
36 Into true liberty.

37 Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill
38 My perspective still as they pass,
39 Or else remove me hence unto that hill,
40 Where I shall need no glass.

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Simple Observation #281 - All living things in the world......

All living things in the world produce waste products
this is one way in which nature all of life conducts.

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Quatrain #31 - There are certain things that.........

There are certain things I have read and seen
which also part of my experience have been.
You may not ever believe what I have to tell
but then you wouldn't be expected to as well.

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There Are No Poems In The Land Of The Dead

THERE ARE NO POEMS IN THE LAND OF THE DEAD

There are no poems in the land of the dead
No songs-
The dead do not sing and do not write poems-
Relatives friends perhaps come,
Perhaps pray perhaps say their poems
But the dead do not hear-
They cannot really hear any more-
There are no poems in the land of the dead,
And no songs either.

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There Are Poems That Tear The Soul

There are poems that tear the soul
And leave us gasping for breath
They make us recall
Our losses in life
And our disappointments
They hurt us with their Beauty
And we do not know
What to do with them.

Like people we loved once
Who are far away
And like times in our life
Which were happy
And now are recalled in regret
There are poems that tear the soul
And leave us wondering
Why all this pain is life
And why there is
So much we will never know or have
Though we long for and would die for.

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Faces Of The World

There are 4 faces of the world
One is happy, the other is sad
Another is angry and the last face is calm

The first face is happy
Where you’re hopeful and full of life
You admire everything in everyday life
If it’s real or even if it’s made of clay

The other face is sad
Where everything you see is dim
You’re sad with everything in the world
As if you’re looking at a blackboard

Another face is angry
Where you feel so furious
You believe
That maybe life is unfair
Or maybe it’s your friends

And the last face is calm
Where you feel numbness
You’re just sitting there
Not doing a thing
As a useless player
In a football game

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We Are Here To Change The World

(from captain eo)
Were on a mission
In the everlasting light that shines
A revelation
Of the truth in chapters of our minds
So long, bad times
Were gonna shake it up and break it up
Were sharing light brighter than the sun
Hello , good times
Were here to simulate, eliminate
An congregate, illuminate
(we are here to change the world)
Gonna change the world, hee
(we are here to change the world)
Gonna change the world, ooo
So do surrender
cause the powers deep inside my soul
Sing it
(we are here to change the world)
Gonna change the world, sing it
(we are here to change the world)
Hee, gonna change the world, ooo
(we are here to change the world)
Were gonna change the world, girl
(we are here to change the world)
My brothers my brother na
Were gonna change the world
(we are here to change the world)
Hee, deep down in my body,
Deep down in my soul, baby
(we are here to change the world)
Hee, were gonna change the world,
Ooo

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Sharing the world love

Sharing the world love is what we all need to do
This is why I am writing this poem from me to you
There are some people in the world waiting for it to appear
The drunken man needs it rather than being intoxicated with beer

Now let’s talk about some places of the world starting with France
When I went to France I once met a man called lance
I now it sounds stupid how it wouldn’t happen but bear with me
Now let me tell you but lance was blind so we all know he could see

And because of that people said that lance would never love
And that finding someone who could love him would be tough
But I went out about Paris with him spreading the word of his personality
And by the end of the week he found someone despite his disability

Now I think I’ll move on to when I went to Italy and to the capital Rome
Back to the capital of Christianity and where the pope sits on his throne
Where I found a young hopeless catholic by the name of Paul Dove
Who like the others I will tell you of, had a lot of trouble with love

He’d had relationships before but not like his last
He’d loved her and proposed but she rejected him and left him very fast
He felt like his life had just collapsed around him that he had nothing left
But onwards he just managed to keep to going and the rest of his life he kept

But it was to much in the end the went to a high spot to end it
And whilst he was there he was shocked to see at the corner of the building where I sit
I said do you really want to jump off her and so we sat and talked
I don’t know where he is know but I know away from a messy end he walked

And then in my travels I decided id travel to Barcelona
Once again by myself still as a loner
I straight away headed to the beach and whilst I was there I saw trouble
There was a woman drowning losing oxygen almost on her last bubble

Automatically I swam out to save her a bring her back to shore
And when id dived to save her a brought her back up she looked in awe
She looked at me and said I didn’t know there where men like you left
And those are the first words I heard when we met

And she said let me reward you properly when we get back to shore
Little did I know she was a 20 euro whore
She got out of the ocean took me back to the house and stripped to the nude
But I couldn’t do it so I left with the words im not in the mood
And that’s when my journey brought me back home to my England
Where the people are happy whilst the men drink and the youth make a new band
And this is where I felt different as if there was something her for me that Ive now found
And there she was straight in my face and she was speaking her mind rather loud

And I stopped I watched waiting to speak with her
And at the end of the day she stopped faced me and said can I help you good sir
And I replied yes what where you doing just then
And she replied my lord give a brain to these simple men

She said to me Ive been spreading the word of a man who’s helped many in other lands
And I replied who is this man let the information swap hands
And she replied all I know of his name is Daniel Laurence
And his quest for helping people has an amazing endurance

I replied with a smile I my dear am Daniel Laurence
And my quest is the one with the incredible endurance
She was awed in amazement she claimed I love what you’re doing it’s amazing
And she smiled at me with her smile dazzling

And so we talk for the rest of the night
The way we looked at each other was an extraordinary sight
And now where together in a people helping partnership
But also I found her so wonderful were now in a relationship

This shows that even the one helping can’t help them selves
But will always need someone else to help ring there bells
And I just hope that you can follow this story of selflessness
And then help others rather than just helping your selves

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Reflections Of A Magistrand

on returning to St. Andrews

In the hard familiar horse-box I am sitting once again;
Creeping back to old St. Andrews comes the slow North British train,

Bearing bejants with their luggage (boxes full of heavy books,
Which the porter, hot and tipless, eyes with unforgiving looks),

Bearing third year men and second, bearing them and bearing me,
Who am now a fourth year magnate with two parts of my degree.

We have started off from Leuchars, and my thoughts have started too
Back to times when this sensation was entirely fresh and new.

When I marvelled at the towers beyond the Eden's wide expanse,
Eager-hearted as a boy when first he leaves his father's manse

With some money in his pocket, with some down upon his cheek,
With the elements of Latin, with the rudiments of Greek.

And his spirit leaps within him to be gone before him then,
Underneath the towers he looks at, in among the throngs of men,

Men from Fife and men from Forfar, from the High School of Dundee,
Ten or twelve from other counties, and from England two or three.

Oh, the Bursary Competition! oh, the wonder and the rage,
When I saw my name omitted from the schedule in the cage!

Grief is strong but youth elastic, and I rallied from the blow,
For I felt that there were few things in the world I did not know.

Then my ready-made opinions upon all things under heaven
I declaimed with sound and fury, to an audience of eleven

Gathered in the Logic class-room, sworn to settle the debate,
Does the Stage upon the whole demoralise or elevate?

This and other joys I tasted. I became a Volunteer,
Murmuring Dulce et decorum in the Battery-Sergeant's ear;

Joined the Golf Club, and with others of an afternoon was seen
Vainly searching in the whins, or foozling on the putting-green;

Took a minor part in Readings; lifted up my voice and sang
At the Musical rehearsals, till the class-room rafters rang;

Wrote long poems for the Column; entered for the S. R. C,
And, if I remember rightly, was thrown out by twenty-three;

Ground a little for my classes, till the hour of nine or ten,
When I read a decent novel or went out to see some men.

So I reaped the large experience which has made me what I am,
Far removed from bejanthood as is St. Andrews from Siam.

But with age and with experience disenchantment comes to all,
Even pleasure on the keenest appetite at last will pall.

Had I now a hundred pounds, a hundred pounds would I bestow
To enjoy the loud solatium as I did three years ago,

When the songs were less familiar, less familiar too the pies,
And I did not mind receiving orange-peel between the eyes.

Yet, in spite of disenchantment, and in spite of finding out
There are some things in the world that I am hardly sure about,

Still sufficient of illusion and inexplicable grace
Hangs about the grey old town to make it a delightful place.

Though solatiums charm no longer, though a gaudeamus fails
With its atmosphere unwholesome to expand my spirit's sails,

Though rectorial elections are if anything a bore,
And I do not care to carry dripping torches any more,

Though my soul for Moral lectures does not vehemently yearn,
Though the north-east winds are bitter—I am willing to return.

At this point in my reflections, on the left the Links expand,
Many a whin bush full of prickles, many a bunker full of sand.

And I see distinguished club-men, whom I only know by sight,
Old, obese, and scarlet-coated, playing golf with all their might;

As they were three years ago, when first I travelled by this train,
As they will be three years hence, if I should come this way again.

What to them is train or traveller? what to them the flight of time?
But we draw too near the station to indulge in the sublime.

In a minute at the furthest on the platform I shall stand,
Waiting till they take my trunk out, with my hat-box in my hand.

As the railway train approaches and the train of thought recedes,
I behold Professor —- in a brand new suit of tweeds.

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