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Bestowers Of Transformative Vision

pathos suffering passion
ripe within bodily experience
pathos of culture artistic expression

artists the 'I give birth to'
shape shifters people creators
bestowers of transformative vision

sentence seen is life vibration alteration
passionate in artistic creation expression
enrichers of web strand seekers beholders

artists hung upon vision quests
artists hung upon life beat heart beats
artists hung upon eyes burning in soul flame

artists historical now you see them now you don’t

poem by Terence George Craddock
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An Old Coat Rack

There is an old coat rack
that stands in the hall
and I’ve often wondered
whose coat once hung there.
It is much older than it looks,
probably a hundred years or more.
Many coats have hung on it
by people large and small.
I did hear that at one time
the coat rack belonged to Buffalo Bill,
so it is possible that Wild Bill Hickok
and Annie Oakley hung their coats
on it at sometime.
One will never know,
but now this little coat rack
with some history
belongs to only me.

11 February 2008

poem by David Harris
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interpretation of Odin's hanging

Odin hung
& all the following Old Norse mouthpieces of Odin
hung on Hávamál's Speech of the High One's windy
constantly verdant world tree
Yggdrasil

Ygg: 'the terrifying'
one of Odin's epithets
& drasil: 'horse'

hung pierced by a spear like a rider hit in battle
down from the horseback

& at the same time

at the same time like a fetus
for nine days with its head downwards
in a womb

*

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poem by Mikael Ejdemyr
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The Road to Emmaus

Did you ever wonder why,
As you hung upon the cross,
we weren’t ready for your words?
if we were worth the price it cost?

At a place they call the skull,
hung upon a tree to die,
With nails that pierce your wrists and feet,
and dying thieves on either side.

“Others he did save,
but he cannot save himself”
Executed like a slave,
By a Rome malignant to itself.

As you spoke your final words
And then hung your head to die
Did you fear you were heard only
By the sparrows and the sky?

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poem by John F. McCullagh
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Deepest Depression (revised)

Staring at the walls...at the pictures that hang there
each photo...of it all
each step of our relationship..that started, with lust, wanting and care
the last picture that is hung
showing the ultimate happiness, of us being in love
I GET THE DEEPEST DEPRESSION
just staring at these things...
the photos on the wall
and the finger that holds my engagement ring

looking around the room, looking at it all
now just filled with dread, n, doom
the dieing roses in the crystal vase
marks the symbol..of the day
when it all was lost, n, went away
the photo album that we made
starts with the pictures of our 1st date, where it started
the last picture is of us, in love
3 days, b4 love was departed
is of the day you proposed, look at it, we are so in love

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poem by Krissi B'williams
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The Landau

The winter fogs roll in from the Thames
While frost forms up on the eaves,
The damp will settle in aching bones,
While the trees are bereft of leaves;
The streets were stark in the old East End
A footfall echoed and died,
And nights when the homes were shuttered in
They listened to wheels outside.

A Landau, black as the devil's sin
And drawn by a single horse,
Rolled slowly up to The Black Dog Inn
By the side of the watercourse,
When out there came from the bawdy house
In black from her head to tail,
A dollymop with a nosegay,
Wearing a bonnet, black, with a veil.

She'd climb up into the Landau while
The coachman, clad in a cloak,

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poem by David Lewis Paget
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The Mighty Eye in a Brief Eclipse of Time

Umpteen billion years
Big Bang, supernova, gas
Brief eclipse of time

Gases swirling, fall
Sun and planets, water, life
Brief eclipse of time

Another billion
goo, amoeba, fishes swim
Brief eclipse of time

Movement, changes, flux
slither, crawl, climb, walk and talk
Brief eclipse of time

Ra, Sol, Helios,
Mithra and the Mighty Eye
Brief eclipse of time

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poem by Terry O'Leary
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Christmass

Christmass is come and every hearth
Makes room to give him welcome now
Een want will dry its tears in mirth
And crown him wi a holly bough
Tho tramping neath a winters sky
Oer snow track paths and ryhmey stiles
The huswife sets her spining bye
And bids him welcome wi her smiles
Each house is swept the day before
And windows stuck wi evergreens
The snow is beesomd from the door
And comfort crowns the cottage scenes
Gilt holly wi its thorny pricks
And yew and box wi berrys small
These deck the unusd candlesticks
And pictures hanging by the wall

Neighbours resume their anual cheer
Wishing wi smiles and spirits high
Clad christmass and a happy year

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poem by John Clare
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Christmas

Christmas is come and every hearth
Makes room to give him welcome now
E'en want will dry its tears in mirth
And crown him wi' a holly bough
Tho tramping 'neath a winters sky
O'er snow track paths and rhymey stiles
The huswife sets her spining bye
And bids him welcome wi' her smiles
Each house is swept the day before
And windows stuck wi' evergreens
The snow is beesom'd from the door
And comfort crowns the cottage scenes
Gilt holly wi' its thorny pricks
And yew and box wi' berrys small
These deck the unus'd candlesticks
And pictures hanging by the wall

Neighbours resume their anual cheer
Wishing wi smiles and spirits high
Clad christmass and a happy year

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poem by John Clare
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Calamiterror (Section VI)

1

Meandering abroad in the Lincolnshire meadows day
Day and day a month perhaps, lying at night lonely,
The early September evening administering a mystery,
The moon executing its wavering sleight of hand, I sense the
Advent of the extraordinary event, the calamiterror,
Turn and encounter the mountain descending upon me
The moment of terror flashes like dead powder
Revealing the features of the mass as mine.

2

Time like a mountain made of my own shadow
Collapsing on me, buries me in my life.
It is the future, undermined by present,
Failing appallingly backward. I bring
The cracked escarpments hurling down, I catch
The agonised glint of years in a fall of
Rubble, the time clatters down with branches

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poem by George Barker
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