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Friday 29 March 2013

Illusion’s End



Sideways, the clock spins
In spirals, the room turns
Melting, the floor moves
In chaos, the thoughts race
Madly, the heart beats

Black becomes white in this world of confusion
Up becomes down in this realm of illusion
Wrong becomes right in this sphere of delusion

Heart beating wildly in the bliss of the moment
Colours converge in a kaleidoscope of calm
Veins pump in anger as the mind slowly dissolves
Reality vegetates as the world spirals downward

Dust fuelled existence
Escaping the tedium
Drift into the sanctuary
Of joyful delirium
Shadows merge in the darkness
Flowers turning to beasts
Dream filled perfection
Becomes a demon that feasts

Sentient being living life unfulfilled
Seeking refuge and calm in a world full of chaos
Desperation’s point sows it’s seeds of betrayal
Exposing the frailty of a mind lost and confused
Colours collide, become a veil sheathed in black
Curtains are drawn one last time on this act

Death by misadventure
This adventure
Over

© Fergus Martin
2013

Sunday 24 March 2013

Knocking Off



Hands move slowly towards their final destination
Carefully caressing the landmarks of their journey
Tips brush each peak with gentle persuasion
Slowly, ever so gently making their way to their goal
Each fleeting moment savoured and devoured with passion
Casting off the illusion of normality
Entering a world of primal reality
Reaching the zenith of their day
The climax of events

© Fergus Martin
2013

Absent Heart



I whisper your name to an empty space
In the dead of night when no-one hears
Images of you rip through my dreams
And I reach for the touch that’s returned no more
I look for your smile in our favourite place
Whenever I wander these halls of sorrow
The lilt of your voice drifts in a chorus of noise
And I dream of the eyes that smile back no more
I search in the dark for a glimpse of your face
Fountains of mist flood through my eyes
Tears drowning memories of a life once loved
And I yearn for the heart that loves no more

© Fergus Martin
2013

Friday 22 March 2013

Eloquence Lost



The eloquence of words is lost
Eloquence that charmed a world
Of light and love and fantasy.
Words no longer live with feeling
Is this what we have become?
Lost without the power of words

© Fergus Martin
2013

Thursday 21 March 2013

Mountain Morning



Beside the riverbanks early spring fields stretch in the dawn
Gently caressing the base of distant hills rising with the day
Early morning sunlight creeps across hues of green and brown
Casting shadows in the earth and sparkling with dew

Whilst on the horizon, shrouded still in winter blankets
The tips of mighty mountains peer down upon the valley
Dominating the skyline providing a boundary for their realm
Walls of ice line the path like clansmen protecting their chief

Sentinels standing firm in the cold mountain air of the highlands
Guarding the black chasm that cuts through the landscape
Slicing it’s path ever upwards towards the distant frozen peak
Gazing down icily as the highland glen begins another perfect day

© Fergus Martin
2013

Candles For The False Gods



As ghostly words echo in the rift, choirs
sing loudly, angelic voices of wonder and welcoming,
reaching out an open palm to the mind that is
pliable, lost and blind. The candles to their god
burn bright in the confused darkness of this unreal
realm.  The flickering flames of promised hope channel their
warmth in a cold harsh environment of betrayal
and confusion, and occasionally, occasionally,
a convert feeds from the flame and is sated, fuelled
by the smouldering embers of the fire.

One by one they appear, then disappear, fading
as their candles burn to the last waxen drop.
Charred, their belief in their own deity overcomes
them and as the dawn arrives they are gone,
nevermore to worship with their simplicity. Silent
in the crescendo, the cacophony of sound that
enticed them to this new religion silences them in the
vast emptiness of the space between illusion and reality.
And once again the battle is drawn, as the gods of
enlightenment continue the quest for control.

Discordant melodies play out their rhythmless
refrains, harmonising sweetly with the sight of the
unseeing. And still the candles flicker like banners
proudly proclaiming their fealty to their lord, their world, their
god. Forever forsaking humanity, reality, society, moths
scramble to their flames, professing an undying servitude
to an unseen master, the blind charge to the belief
that all that their god provides is righteous, blind to the
machinations of the eternal fires of the beast they worship.

Every day, new candles are lit in reverence, old candles
extinguished, new paths taken and old roads abandoned.
Each waking moment in the timeless rotation of the world,
another soul feasts upon the flames of their god of illusion. The
master of their deception, the creator of their thoughts, their
reality. The never-ending battle of the god’s playing chess with
the minds of the masses continues, and as another soul is sacrificed
on the altar to success, another flame rises to proclaim their god in
all it’s unworthy holiness. Another banner raised to a false
god of hope, another fool worshipping in the paradise of Illusion.

© Fergus Martin
2013

Monday 18 March 2013

A New Hope



And so another day begins,
Clouds grumble angrily as they gather storms together
rising as they welcome in another day,
a day resembling all the others.
Staring at walls, empty, devoid of colour,
reflections of reality bounce and dance
in the dimly lit room, awaiting the light of day.
As you gaze dreamily, the flames of the fire
are tossed high into the soot covered chasm
of the chimney, where they fade and die
Watching as the world spirals in its endless rotation,
symptomatic of the spiralling decline of a society
intent on devouring itself from the inside out.
Early morning mists burn swiftly as the sun
rises from its slumber, forcing itself upon the
grey, dark morning. Intent on bringing light to the
darkness, incandescent rays scorch the storms
to submission, and slowly, the day dawns brighter.
Walking into the dawn of another day, small patches
Of blue push their way through the haze, threatening
To overwhelm the madness of the morning, providing,
perhaps,
a glimpse of hope,
a portent of resurrection,
the dawn of
just another day.

© Fergus Martin
2013

Wednesday 6 March 2013

Words Fail Me



Something’s been bothering me,
for over three weeks now.
See, I know what I mean to say,
but can’t seem to speak now.
At a loss for words my head spins
in perpetual motion returning to source.
From end to beginning,
these thoughts run their course.
They stop where they started,
imprisoned and no further forward.
So I sit here in the silent womb
of a mind that’s become disordered
You sit there bemused, incredulous
at the pained expression of my struggle,
the unwitting cause of my failing
in this fear infested jungle.

Tongue tied and blinded
to the words that will break
this unholy stagnation of thought.
And that step I must take.

© Fergus Martin
2013

Tuesday 5 March 2013

Just A Thought



In the silence of the morning
A thousand dreams pass you by
Vanish with the rising sun
Gone, you know not why
In the sunlight of the afternoon
A thousand hopes fade to dust
Drifting on the gentle breeze
Gone, forever crushed
In the glimmer of the evening
A thousand memories disappear
Life relived in precious moments
Gone, the past remains unclear
In the darkness of the night
A thousand nightmares ease the soul
Whispers scream their sweet sanctity
Gone, your life is whole

With every waking moment
Every nightmare is a dream
Every memory is a hope
That is not what it means
Every dream is a reality
Every hope is life’s desire
Every nightmare, brutal hunger
Fresh existence on the fire
Each and every thought
Every breath relieves the stresses
Provides meaning to existence
Life remains forever precious

© Fergus Martin
2013