the Thames

The thames has always been a river of my dreams. To see it and feel it's flow. And the dueling ground tour has been exciting me imagination. Boudiccia kept us from speaking Latin but shakespeare gave us a muse of fire. Here on the streets you hear hoofbeats of armoured knights and hear the rush of carriages. And I reated to the sodier in Henry Five. Wishing for that piece of home at Agincourt. The desire to be in Thames up to the neck.

UK explorations - week 1

AFter what sounds like the beginning of an adventure novel I made it to the UK one week ago. Most of my exprations were of sites historical sties that I can do on the cheap.
The story begins with my explorations of my local area. Going to see the Thames off putney bridge and exploring the locale. I then traveled to Hyde park, roamed around Buckingham Paace and Wellington arch. I saw big Ben and the London eye. Listen to English blues and even met another poet. I got to improvise poetry in a Phoenix. I went to the Roman wall to thank the Iceni and ended up giving a brief lecture on the subject and meandered around whitechapel. Where the crays murdered and Jack stalked.
I aso saw the tower. All were places I read of. Pictures soon.

poem for mother earth

mother terra from which we grow
in the circles of twilight.
winking tis the stars that know,
the love we hold for this night,

as seedling grows to flowered bud,
to those uncaring lights we pray,
blooden water makes our earth mud.
and fire makes us clay


the wind gives us heat and chill,
without only poets giving reason,
she has born us to love and kill,
depending on the season.

when in sultry time or battle seeth,
we are caught in her gentle net,
but as a kiss in her we breate,
her blood and tears our sweat.

please tell me mother,
I mean this with out scorn,
you sustain me like no other,
every minute I'm reborn.

so the silent stars remember,
mute to our smallish cries,
we love them as moth to ember,
as earthen hearts soar to the skies

In nature the season is the thing,
making all us animals react,
and too our baser thought we sing
in our acncient seasonal contract,

to fresh coats and claws now hunt.
on talon, wing, tooth and claw,
time to eat and kills, to be blunt,
that is old earths first law.

it is to the golden father sun,
and to star silver sister moon,
to Gaia's beauty the tale is spun,
and all her voices humm the tune.

when the fecund gods scream "celebrate",
as to the rituals of matings assails,
to the columns the gods whisper fornicate,
to the chorus of animals wails,

the ocean roars and trees entice,
in turbluent blues and sordid green,
to the ancient gods we sacrifice,
though lusty nature seeming serene.