Epiphany

Amazing how the tables turn when least you do expect it,

I thought I’d seen the last of all the pain you had inflicted,

I took a beating, took a fall, absorbing all your bullets,

And yet, reload your gun of lies you did; then I was wounded.

Down on my knees I prayed that you would grant me coup de grâce,

But still you did persist; your torture clearly had no par.

I crumbled at your feet and begged forgiveness in your presence,

Of course I’d done no wrong but insignificant in essence,

For I must be reminded of my place when I am with you,

I had to prove my worth; by far the lesser of the two,

Available at any time, just shout and I’ll be there,

Click your fingers, I’ll be gone, it’s not for you to care.

But there was only so much snapping, shouting I could handle,

You pushed me to the brink; you broke my heart, burnt out my candle,

I cried so many tears and yet your thirst was insatiable,

Your constant retribution became unstoppable,

It seems your punishment was dealt out best when multiplied,

The surface tried to harden as inside, I slowly died.

And as I lay there on the floor in shattered glass and tears,

A sudden word of strength was whispered softly in my ears,

I clawed myself up to my feet and met your glassy gaze,

And stared at you to try and solve your twisted little maze.

But then it hit me like a freight train screaming down the track,

For too long I had shown you love instead of show my back.

Well here it is, take a good look; the last you’ll ever see,

From now on I will show you a better version of me,

No longer broken, battered, bruised and weeping on the floor,

Not begging you to turn around as you head for the door,

Now I’m the one who turns to go, to leave you here to rot,

A heart as black and cold as yours will quickly set to clot.

But as a final fairwell there is one more thing to do,

Accept this middle finger and a well deserved ‘fuck you’.

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin

Realise Nothing Will Make Sense Before God

Whispers on the wind tell lies,

‘It is Truth’ they will say.  And you will believe them

As temples justify the malevolence, the whispers mature,

You think you understand at first, before you

Realise

But what is truth?  ‘The belief of Faith’ they will say

Fractured and scattered by the chaos of wars

Across the eons of time.  Blind and arrogant,

Spilling blood in the name of blood for the belief of

Nothing

Illuminated by the parting clouds, the bearers of truth

March forth unto the saturated lands

Of other truths. ‘You have Courage’ they will say

As the truth rains down, many more the enemies He

Will make

In dark shadows the ground is soft, disturbed;

Easy to fall through. They will say

‘Be in His light for Salvation’.  Belief, however

Will not substitute the thin sheath of ignorance for

Sense

However the lies in the undergrowth are thick.

And its roots run deep.  Fires will not scorch them

But fuel them.  ‘Bathe in His Love’ they will say, but

Eventually, you will burn in it.  This is the real truth

Before god.

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin

In Limbo

She’s lost here somewhere,

Lost in limbo,

In these dark woods

Where we dare not go.

But I must find her

And bring her home.

She doesn’t belong here

Amongst the ravenous crows.

The moonlight spears

Like shards of blue glass

Through the thick canopy,

Piercing the black grass.

The trees block me

But I have a promise to keep

And I’ll push on through;

Miles to go before I sleep.

The air is thin

And the wind is stale.

Ancient undergrowth darkens,

As its victims pale.

I am lost here

And tread spiteful ground,

But I will stay lost

Until she is found.

And what of the trees?

They bear a strange fruit,

As blood stained leaves

Drip blood to the root.

Awkward figures sway,

Their faces sunken,

As cadavers drain

To the roots that drink them.

The high hanging bodies

Gaunt and garrotted

Not long had they fallen

Their blood not yet clotted

Why have they done this,

What had caused such fear?

To pick such an ending

So sudden, so severe.

Monochrome midnight

Hides shadowy figures,

Their traps awaiting

Near concealed triggers.

I hear them shufflling

Deep in the dark,

Their cruel intent

Scars ancient bark.

A ghostly mist gathers

And sinks all around,

It thickens the air

And crystals the ground.

Distant whispers drift

In unnatural tongues,

They conspire in blindness

To futile these lungs.

The woods are deep,

And I go deeper still,

The darkness thickens;

The wind is shrill.

I squint in the blackness,

Trying to see,

If I follow someone

Or if something follows me.

But I have promises to keep

And miles yet to go,

Further lost in these woods,

Where we dare not go.

Long before I sleep,

Where strange fruit hangs low,

Falling deeper into darkness,

Lost in limbo.

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin

Inspired by:
'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost
'Strange Fruit' by Abel Meerpol

 

Sniper

I felt nothing at first.

Just the loud crack of a distant whip, the echo

Bouncing through the crumbling streets and fetid alleyways,

Painted with the stench of unintentional sacrifices

And scorched by the Middle Eastern sun.

He can see me, this one, even now,

Staring down the lens like a wayward sailor scanning distant rocks for Sirens,

Tempting him to death.

He’s watching me crumble to the blistering ground,

My skull cracks at the impact.  I feel the warmth running from my ears

As I baptise the dust. He must be watching, even still,

Assessing the state of his kill;

Am I still moving? Am I still breathing?
A foreigner in his lands is ripe for picking, he’ll say,

As he recollects the bounty of his day.

And all around will praise him for the win,

I was trespassing, they’ll say.

And I got what I deserved.

I guess they’d be right, it might be my error

To be here in a world that is not mine.

Branded a ‘terror’ but I’m not here by choice,

My voice is not heard when the generals of war jab at maps

Perhaps a lapse in their pointing has landed me here,

Bastards.

They should be more precise,

Like the man that is watching me, still.

His finger no doubt on the trigger, no mistakes,

He’ll figure me out before long

And know I am down but not done

As I lay here and burn in the afternoon sun.

A flash of light from the rooftops gives him away

But I cannot move, he’s watching me, still

Trying to confirm his kill.

He’s a smart one, clever sod, not mindlessly gunning

At anything running through the streets to which now

He is god.

Funny though how it transpired,

So tired now, the heat no longer burns my skin,

It’s thin, like a warm dusk choked by thick cloud.

Not long left for me I think, I should shift

But he’s still there, and he won’t move on

Until my stench fills the air in this meridian sun.

He’s won, of course that much is clear

But the blood running thick from my ear

Is the same as his, is it not? 

It would clot if I’d been just a little more careful,

An inch to the left perhaps?

Maybe not...

Not that I’d know anyway.  It’s unseen.

At eighteen, you don’t really understand the madness of war

Do you?  It’s true, so my father says anyway.

‘You’ll soon learn’ he said ‘as the bullets fly overhead’.

A second whip crack soon stops me

Dead.

He was wrong though, my dad.

All I learned is that you don’t really feel anything,

At first.

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin

End

You left me standing here alone, in a world that’s turned to stone,

A brilliant marble of blue and green

A beauty that has gone unseen

Decaying to the bone.

How can I fight your so-called fight, when all around the fading light,

Leaves darkness spreading further,

And now I don’t know whether,

The plunder's worth the plight.

Why wash your hands of what you made, you sit here watching all life fade,

As oceans take the land,

And rocks crumble to sand,

Your final chess piece played.

These roaring fires turning ashen, it’s been too long, our time in ration,

And now the blackness swallows,

An earthly body hollows,

In necessary fashion.

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin

A Moment Ago...

My house, it was here a moment ago.

I swear it was here, over here

By the trees that are no longer there

Standing strong in the crystal spring air

And the unnatural breeze from the shore

I am sure that’s where it was before.

Have you seen it? I swear it was here,  

A moment ago....

My friends, they were here a moment ago,

They were here , not that far

As their laughs quelled the quiet

Like a innocuous riot,

Then, running fast up the tracks to the hills where we go

When we want to escape from the bustle below.

Have you seen them? I swear they were here,

A moment ago....

My mother, she was here a moment ago,

She was here, at the table

Drinking tea, talking folly about times long gone by,

Complaining to god of the thickening sky,

Demanding more tea and a sympathy ear,

I love you dear mother but why aren’t you here?

Will someone please help me?  I swear she was here,

A moment ago....

My son , he was here a moment ago,

Over there, he was playing with cars,

By the house of a friend,

Over there round the bend

Off the road that is no longer there... but he wouldn’t go far.

He’s a good boy you see, an angel, my star...

Have you seen him?  I swear he was here,

A moment ago....

My love, she was here a moment ago,

I swear she was here, standing here,

Next to me with the wind in her hair

But her eyes flashed a look of despair,

I remember her cries but why? I must know.

She is somewhere up high, surely not down below

Have you seen her?  I swear she was here,

A moment ago....

But the sea wasn’t here, a moment ago.

It was quiet and calm, with no cause for alarm

In the gentle spring rain with no sadness, no pain,

In our village that rests by the shore, I adore

And my home with the little white door.

But the sea did not care, as it rose in the air
Its torrent, it came all the same....

Unstoppable. 

Indiscriminate.  

Chaos.

Where are you my friends?

Where are you my mother?

Where are you my son?

Where are you my lover?

Why have you left me here on my own

Swamped by the shattered remains of our home?

Why can I not find you?

Where did you all go?

Were you not in my arms

A moment ago?

Now I stand here alone with my face to the floor,

And I long to be free of the thoughts I endure,

As I look up and scan the destruction and death,

I fall to my knees and beat at my chest,

I feel the despair welling up in my heart,

I wish nothing more than this pain to depart.

I look at the waters as they filter away,

And carry the souls of those lost on this day.

Though my body remains, my soul joins the flow

For my world was extinguished

...but a moment ago.

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin

My Mona Lisa Lover

I glance up over cobbled stones, appreciate your golden tones.

Your eyes are closed; a smile appears to make the Mona Lisa sneer.

The sun beams brightly on your face, the sea applauds as wind gives chase

And ruffles softly through your hair; your looks and charm a deadly snare

That has me caught, I can’t escape, no flying rug or magic cape

Can free me from these prison bars, so still I linger from afar.

For having you comes at a price and yet I long to roll the dice,

To take the chance and make you mine. Is it a punishable crime

To fall in love and be a lover with one that seems to love another?

I do not care; I will persist, in you I’ll find my happiness,

Abundant as the sun that shines upon your sculpted body lines.

So lie there blissfully unaware of what ahead lies in wait there,

An evil plot, I’ve worked the sums for it soon around the corner comes.

To sever bonds and form another… not long, my Mona Lisa lover.

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin

In Your Skin

It’s a funny place here, in your skin. Why do you keep it

So very pale? Like a sail left out in the sun

For too long and then flown at the turning of tides,

Though it glides across all of the seas

Its beauty is gone.

Such a strange place here, in your skin.

Like an ivory sheet thrown

Over sharp bones, pale tones and fingers

Pointing blame at passers-by of unknown crimes

In times when everyone seems guilty of lies.

Toughened like leather, but stretched too thin,

Keeping the world out and the warmth in.

Let he, without sin

Be the first to cast stones and break this skin

To warm the world and everyone within.

Why keep it in?

A barrier to the world

Unfurled across brittle twigs and branches,

With chances of breaking at the slightest touch.

Is it too much?

Let me help you cast off this blanket

And thank it

For you will be free from the burden to hold it all in.

Your skin.
Like porcelain, so delicate.
A feathery silk dressing

Impressing all those that long to be part of your heart,

A start, would be simply to look past your skin.

What an odd place here, in your skin.

It’s clearly protecting but something’s deflecting

From letting the happiness in.

A blank piece of paper draped on an easel

Is nothing without the artist to do the drawing.

Boring. It’s gnawing at me where I’m trying to see

That you have so much beauty but choose not to show it,

To grow it and let it be free.

Is it me that stops you from being happy

In your skin?

I’d happily show you that all that I love

Is not above but below what is covering,

Smothering the splendour and wonder within.

Your skin.

Such a burden to be in your skin

But I thank you for letting me in,

As it’s clear that you rarely permit for it

To have ever happened before,

But more should really be here to see

And be part of the wonder of you,

My love,

To be part of the wonder

Within.

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin

Poison

Tonight is just like any other night,

And nothing like any night before

I’ll sit here till the breaking of the light,

But never again see another dawn

The darkness blankets me but I am hot,

I shrug it off and cast it to the floor,

The arctic wind chills my blood to clot,

Near frozen, so I slam the open door.

The blood is boiling up behind my eyes,

But draining out from deep within my heart,

I slump down on the floor and grip my thighs,

And pray soon that this sadness will depart.

Enraptured in a fit of hate and fear,

I crawl into the corner in the dark,

The tides of hell are flooding in, so near,

And yet I will not board the saviour’s ark.

My breathing starts to shallow and arrest,

As pain is speared deep into my side,

I sense a crushing demon on my chest,

Then feel it writhe around on the inside.

I grasp my hair as tears roll down my face

And leaves the tracks of misery behind,

My fading soul drifts to another place,

A fragment of salvation for my mind.

The rolling hills are bathed in the light of the morning sun,

A cloudless sapphire sky enveloping everyone,

A weeping willow blossoms in the light of the warming rays

An emerald carpet spreads out as far as these eyes can gaze.

I feel the warmth caress me and fill my soul anew,

No longer do I suffer from the pain I have been through.

I lie down in this paradise and wrap myself in jade,

Finally I am in the sun and far from any shade.

There is no pain, no sadness, found here in this rapture,

No eyes bleed tears of sorrow, no heart suffers fracture,

Could this be the peace that I have searched forever for?

Finally an open window, not a padlocked door.

But suddenly that window slams, the door is bolted tight,

The emerald carpet turns to dust, the clouds blot out the light,

The weeping willow rots and dies and crumbles to the floor,

Euphoria is smothered out and pain returns once more.

A rush of lightning races through my veins,

Where once was warmth there now is only pain,

I try to scream but it is muffled out,

A mask of plastic smothering my mouth.

I try to see but blinded are my eyes,

An unseen force preventing me to rise.

My efforts, futile, lose ferocity,

I feel a faintness overcoming me,

And as before my body turns to stone,

I suddenly feel desperately alone...

The weakness this time heavy and forever,

Please let not this be my last endeavour

I want to see your faces one last time,

And ask you to forgive my wicked crime.

I did not mean to hurt you all like this,

It was a desperate cry, a final wish.

A prisoner like me had no escape,

For these bars were not so easy to break.

Incarcerated in my shattered head,

My mind had rot, my soul was all but dead.

And as I slip away from howling cries,

I see no weeping trees or sunny skies.

No fields of green but oceans, painted black,

I feel not warmth, but ice upon my back.

Exhale a breath for one last final time,

I wish forgiveness had somehow been mine,

But no more does my body let me live,

I have no more to life which I can give.

Embracing hand, oh why not here to lend

There is no guiding light here at the end...

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin

Progress

Keep on running, walking, crawling, clawing at the floor.

Pushing onward, upward, skyward, forward all the more.

Don’t give up and don’t give in and let the bastards beat you.

In the end you’ll look back at the space you’ve left between you.

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin

The Ground is Soft Here

The ground is soft here,

You cannot see the earth, for it is littered with men.

Like the fallen buckled branches of a forgotten fir tree,

Twisted against the dying sun, casting awkward shadows

Onto the scarlet soil.

Bloodied. Battered.

Broken.

Bodies,

Ensnared in wire, strangling the last splutters of life

In a fountain of red toward the stars, offering a sacrifice to the heavens

In exchange for a quick death.

An offering,

Ignored.

The ground is soft here,

Craters scatter into the horizon.

Graves

Filled with lost heroes, spilling over into the mud.

Men twist together, locked forever in their final battles,

Dashed to pieces by the metals of man.

Decay is quick.

Bravery is turned to dust effortlessly,

Lost forever.

As though it never were.

A red river, thick and dirtied, carries life from the fallen.

Into the chasms of the earth.

Providing nourishment
To hell.

The ground is soft here.

And the night is long.

A thunderous applause shatters the unnatural calm

Beyond the darkness

From afar.

But there is no rain.

The foundations of the earth are shaking.

Distant cries of terror are silenced.

As more graves are dug, effortlessly.

A desperate soul cries out,

Dear God

Help us, but come yourself, do not send your son

For this is no place

For children.

The ground is soft here...

Dawn.

The sun bleeds across the sleeping earth.

Warming her face and awakening her.

Rolling plains, as far as the eye can see.

Show no scars.

The bodies of the fallen long since lost;

Eradicated, by the churnings of time.

The ground is still red.

Bloodied.  Painted

An everlasting shrine to the perished

In the face of the scarlet flower.

Flourishing on the fallen

For eternity.

The ground is soft here,
And you cannot see the earth.

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin

My Soul Entire

This loneliness, this blackened void,

The charred remains of passion’s fire.

Left lying here, as constant toyed,

My heart, my breath, my soul entire.

With nothing left and all but gone,

You left me here to linger on.

I long for you on winter nights,

And pray for you in summer’s heat.

I see your face in starry lights,

And breathe your scent from linen sheets.

But now as echoes you remain,

You leave me here to bear the pain.

I step outside; I hear your voice,

Whisper on the wicked winds.

Denied the right to make a choice,

What was our crime, what were our sins?

That justifies us lovers parted,

Left nothing but the broken hearted

So now I walk this earth alone,

Nowhere to go, this pain won’t cease.

No one around to call my own,

No one to help me find my peace.

My heart, it floods, with constant fear,

I cannot live without you here.

I gaze into the endless sky,

As distant starlight’s shimmer round.

The tears roll gently from my eyes,

And patter softly on the ground.

I take one step, and then another,

Until the ground beneath is none.

I see your face my darling lover,

And close my eyes, and then it’s done

To leave behind this pointless life,

And join with you in paradise. 

Copyright © 2011 by Simon Austin