Unshackled

Unshackled


A fire watches over us
his sister moves about
and when the day is over
the two will meet no doubt.
With each emotion held within
a brand is fired and stoked
for loves true light will not allow
it's freedom to be choked;

The coils of hateful hearts ingrained
like snakes within a drum
the roots of all those feelings chained
are heart strings plucked, and strum.
So break all of those chains that bind
and let true love sing out
free your heart, your soul, your mind
unshackling the doubt;

A heart cannot be chained
when love is welcomed in
it cannot be enslaved, or maimed
or caught within a din.
It flows like an eternal stream
and quenches every thirst
and slips between each heartfelt dream
with joy in light, to burst;

If time and tide, or fateful worst
or fortunes, could be changed
let it be within you first
that heartbeat's rearranged.
for in the end the seed of hope
is where we all will start
a relic in a sacred tope
enshrined within your heart;

let go.
let go.
let go again...
and open up your heart
Let go of all that hate and fear
then sadness will depart.
For in the time it takes for you
to free that shackled place
beware, for fear will close the gap
and squeeze that open space;

let go.
let go.
let go again...
The time is 'now', its true
don't look away with doubting eyes
the light of loves within you.
Yet minds that try to grasp at love
will find the dance deceived
for only in the yielding heart
are hatreds coils relieved;

So hear these words with softened hearts
and break the chains that bind
for love holds fast to hearts that yield
and mends the troubled mind.
For this i tell you now its clear
for I have born the cost
your enemy is hate and fear
love rules, or all is lost;

For on that day that love ascends
and sits upon that throne
is when its deemed your freedoms friends
and finally have grown.
From children into mighty souls
compassionate and true
and reached all of your lofty goals
young spirits born anew.

Unshackled
love rules.

© Richard Michael Parker 2009

The Drummer Boy

The Drummer Boy
(Menin Gate).

I saw a boy today bang upon a drum,
as i walked beside names left silent,
from over there they'd come.

Rows of lads laid waste in many days gone by,
a last post played, whilst we stood around,
some looking vacant, snapping shots,
others cried aloud.

As the bugle call echoed past its final note,
a murmur seemed to issue forth,
from each nervous,
disquietened throat.

It was as if the silence was for all too much to bare,
56000, in parts,
remembered, lying there.

And why was it that young men gave their limbs?
For on those walls were writ all those Generals whims.

So i stood quietly as the crowd dispersed,
like ghosts departing,
having honoured life and death,
and worse.

I walked around and gazed upon the lives left there,
chiselled names, chiselled fame,
left open, stripped, and bare,
an arch of travesty and despair.

And as the sun receded once again,
i wondered if in the coming night,
we would send more boys to die in fright?

What do you know at 19?

A walk,
measured of years and yearnings left denied,
of loves and tears never cried,
songs not sung,
nor token chuckles made,
each step accompanied all to fade.

On every wall emblazoned family crests,
sank deep the bits in bloody muddy mess,
left for us the generations to confess.

Sikh, Sepoy, Nepalese, Aussie boy,
South African, Canadian, Kiwi, Brit and more,
Do we keep account?,
Did they know the score?

It seemed as though the questions,
left unanswered on my silent pilgrimage,
mounted with each step,
upon that fateful bridge.

I stood aghast beside another towering wall,
the letters showering down upon me,
too much, too many, to ever faithfully recall.

And then i heard a drum,
beat,
sure and slow at first,
as the flat hand slapped the skin,
surround,
my heart to burst.

I gazed upon the wall beside me towering high,
and there, a drummer boy,
enshrined,
in me began to fly.

The tabla beat, frenetically on,
the deep base note, steady, - resonant,
the soulful march never hesitant.

C.S.Steed had set his beat,
at Ypres, millennia ago,
his march a captive dance,
upon the ear of friend and foe,
off to battle, into War,
into pieces he would go.

Yet as the boy played on,
his mesmeric incantation wrung,
upon the wall, then in me,
a vital soul was sung.

A deepened note of rankled joy set down upon my heart,
with every beat a memory bound,
and freed again to start.

A stony plinth stands alone beside the Menin Gate,
recounting Indians lost.
that tabla found them out again, yet late,
there bodies torn and tossed.

The Drummer Boy is playing still,
one name do i recall,
the Tabla beat within my heart,
his names upon that wall.

© Richard Michael Parker 2005

The Well

The Well

Stripped down
laying bare these artifices
a watershed of remnants
reminiscences
...float bye...
waves of grief
flooding me from within
awash inside this inner tide
the swell...
deep in the well.
A chasm that aches
a heart that never breaks
all defences washed away
every egoistic mask
bare before this task
my inner washing hung,
dripping wet,
wrung, out on the line
like a tolling bell
and still i cannot let you go...
Your hand in mine
slipping away
torn within the rip
this bond of love
inseparable
Sea's that wash through me
issue in drops
never will you leave this heart.
In time i will draw your waters
into my mind
from the well you left behind
A well of contentment
of Love and surety
as the world changes
around and about
there will be no doubt
for the waters i draw
that quench this thirst
were shown to me by you.
You, who taught me how to dip,
to sip, from that spring,
that endless living love
safe from parched wandering.
Hand over hand
drawn ever upward
you are my well
and from your waters
i shall forever drink
and in my heart
and where i think
you shall forever dwell...
i have loved you always
and in all ways
i shall love you.

© Richard Michael Parker 2009

The Word

The Word

In the deepest darkness, of the darkest night,
you will find a Light, and i will wait for you there.

'Seeing is believing'...or so they told us!...
but i believe only that which my vision unfolds,
and in this vision, the visage of you,
soft lit, entrancing, in gentle dappled hue,
bare shouldered, rose lipped,
green eyed, and supple hipped...
dark ringed locks tightly curled
voluptuousness unfurled
'seeing is believing'...or so ive heard,
but i choose to linger, and live upon the word.

A word that brought you in a dream to my door
the word that fought for love, forevermore
the word that would not leave me here alone
the word that sat me down upon this throne.

For in the deepest darkness, of the darkest night,
you will find a Light, and i will wait for you there.

When ghosts of all the ages play
on hallows eve, the darkling day
I stood, Chastised by fate
sent asunder, in a locker to await
the thunder and the reticence
of time lost, turned and tossed
and in that darkest hour, the depth of the darkest night
you came upon me silently, from behind within the light,
you startled me so gently, it brought to me a smile
and whispered a sweet word,
then bid me linger for a while.

A word that brought you in a dream to my door
the word that fought for love, forevermore
the word that would not leave me here alone
the word that sat me down upon this throne.

For in the deepest darkness, of the darkest night,
you will find a Light, and i will wait for you there.

The approach both pleased and startled me
you gently smiled, all knowingly
then kicked me into life, again once more
and bid me fly with you to Elsinore
to right the wrongs of slighted kings
and settle heart felt woe
to hold above, with heady wings
while love in us did grow.
and so, in tumbling to the ground, deceased
caught, swept into my arms now found, released
into a sound...a word....barely heard...

A word that brought you in a dream to my door
the word that fought for love, forevermore
the word that would not leave me here alone
the word that sat me down upon a throne.

For in the deepest darkness, of the darkest night,
you will find a Light, and i will wait for you there.

And holding you, enthralled, i swam into your eyes
a sea green paradise locked within your deepest sighs
you beckoned me to come with deftest skill within this art
to give to you once more, again, my gentle loving heart
and in return you offered me your own set deep inside
courageously kept bright, aflame,
to stoke this lovers pride
to lift each soul resplendently and forge a brand new day
betwixt the dark and dapper dawn, to find another way
a Mutual dream, a vision of our glory ever heard
resounding in that ever faithful living loving word.

A word that brought you in a dream to my door
the word that fought for love, forevermore
the word that would not leave me here alone
the word that sat me down upon a throne.

For in the deepest darkness, of the darkest night,
you will find a Light, and i will wait for you there.

© Richard Michael Parker 2010


Artwork by Peggi Meyer Graminski

Intimacy

Intimacy

A glance.
Furtive flashings of innocent surrender.
A touch.
Skin mimicking skin,

the silken embrace held softly within.
A sweeping grace.
A kiss.
Tentative lips embrace,
sensate as breath mingles with breath.
The soulful stare,
dilating pupils laying spirits bare.
Blushing cheeks,
undulating peeks.
Enfolding fingers made bold,
sliding souls in yielding folds.
A butterfly lashes erectile hair,
sensate flashings of sensual care.
Each breath, a tingle without and within,
dancing upon joys softened chin.
Legs that slip softly side by side,
engorged nipples that cannot hide,
the sumptuous gaze,
silently speaks of love beyond this sensual craze.
A yielding,
reciprocated trust,
contrasting cravings craven lust.
Intimacy, a soulful gift,
Its key remembered,
true love can never be dismembered.

© Richard Michael Parker 2003