Words

Tongue lashed and incised deep

Where slashes the tender heart,

And flays emotion from skin suit,flesh filled,gore seeped weeping,

Cascading in velvet gush to cocoon,

The web woven,raven riddled light

Glinting in the all black,deep dark,

Lustrous lamia shrined night

Of my fraying mind.

Despair kisses the skeletal skull

Of my thoughts and bids them

Speed as,ash grown and pyre lit,

They disperse from conscious

To unconscious reason. Where

In crypt coiled slumber, I stretch ,

And caress the tender curve of

Your desolate absence.

Word weft, and language lashed,

You fled this delicate grave,to fly,

On wings of purple tinge, across

The landscape of my regret. Leaving this somber mirror to scry for any trace, any vestige

Of life.

Without you.

Copyright H M Williams 09/01/2019

Worth

The empty glass regarded

The nothing face quizzical

Reflecting the void within

Without impression or visage.

Invisibly the vacuum moved

Fluttered on a Miriad moth like

Motes of dusty decay that fell

Into the whole; taking shape

Giving form to the shapeless,

Formless, of the empty nothing

As it filled the vista

Obscuring all with its deep

Dark, indefinite, infinite

Absence.

An eternal span of oblivion

An all consuming, all embracing

Morass of definite zero

That cradled within its doom

The still beating, still, beating

Heart of the man without

Whose reflective lack

Described in full his worth,

Echoed vibrantly his scream

Bellowing forth soundlessly

From his not lunged, not fleshed

Skeletal whole, that slowly

Decomposed into being

The soulless, stateless,starless

Chasm of his life.

 

“Beirdd byd  barnant wyr o  galon ” Aneirin.

 

Copyright 16/11/2017. H M D WilliamsIMG_0010

Prayers That Somehow Die

Supine still

Yet exertion wracked

Drowning slowly

In a pool of fear

Slumbering yet

But fighting for life

In an, endless

Tireless struggle .

Faces merge

Blur, disintegrate.

Whole bodies

Ripped apart in fury

As blood flows

And bathes me anew.

Cleansing me

Purifying me in horror

Born of mind

And fevered brain,.

Slowly fading

Endlessly dying.

Amidst this carnage

Amongst this wreckage

Of tortured spirit

And body.

Of soul imperiled

Languishing, flailing

On the gallows

Of misplaced faith

Of tattered remnants

Of all these prayers

That Somehow die,.

 

Copyright H M D Williams 22/09!/2017

Ta Amhrán na fáinní

Ring of trees

 

Her eyes,twin pools,

In which my soul drowns,

Pull me close,pull me

Down to her hands

Where Swans, childlike,

Dance; And the trees,swaying,

Sing to me of nature

And of older things.

The hazel, Lugh sheltering,

Is the first, singing light,

Hearth and of home.

The white thorn cries

Its mourning song, fear and loss.

The elder, blood of my tears,

Which in turn,turns to Ash.

Aspen at the heart of song

And of mine in turn,

While Oak stands tall

In Pryderi’s song

A story of the world.

The Birch tree sings,

And thick its voice

Rekindling fear of past times,

While the pine rises

And my hiraeth also,

While the yew bleeds

Its blood soaking the ground

Re awakening my lost soul,

Blazing like the fern,

Or the Rowan staff

That rules this metre

Until the twin appears,

And brings the song to close.

Smoke rises, nine times,

Before my eyes.

The song ceases

And all is gone

Except for the feel

Of your cool fingers

And the soft warmth

Of a silver heart

And home.

 

copyright H M D Williams 01/06/2017

The Garden

Beautiful-lawn-and-garden-LR

 

Nothing grows now,

Where we used to dwell.

All is now dead,

Withered and lost.

Just dead leaves

Fractured tendrils

Consumed by frost,

Returned to dust.

No roses here,

Nor even thorns.

Dry twigs,bloodless,

Lifeless,decaying,

Like my empty dreams.

 

 

copyright. H M D Williams 03/05/17.

Empty

 

Forsaken_Crypt

 

Crypt like,

And cobweb kissed

This darkened space

Wherein a heart,

Cat bricked

And Amontillado casked,

Once dwelt.

Nothing remains

Nor floor hammered

To hide the crime,

But silence.

Devoid of voice,

The Bean Sidhe signs

Her eloquence

Turning empty eyes

To stare

Into the void

Where,lifeless,

The corpse rots…

Watering,

Nightly,

My dreams.

 

H M D Williams 3 Ebrill 2017.

Shut

 

useful_080a_mid

 

And the door closes……………

 

Exsanguinated,empty,nothing

Just hollow shell and human bent

Kicked and bruised,inside and out.

External and internal,the feelings too

That mould,manipulate,punish and harm…

With empty heart and full fist

Twisting emotion,wringing pain,

Bringing rain after rain

Of stormy loathing and self

To leave…..

 

And too to leave.

Just a hollow shell,

And a door closing.

 

 

H M Williams 30 October 2006

Colours

lochview-450

There are myriad colours

In this land where I dwell

Painted by the seasons

And the sun.And by man

From the purple heather

On the hills above

To the yellow smoothness

Of the sands of the tide.

The stains of man’s passing

And his progress illuminate.

The dark where the coal

Coughed up from the lungs

Of the earth…

The fiery chasm from which

The iron and metals

Were cut away…

The red stain of the rock

Of the core of this land.

Many have passed before

Of many different tongue,

The Brython and the Roman

The Gael and the Viking

The Saxon,Norman and others.

All are fabric of the land

All have contributed

For the good or ill,to the image

The landscape that is today.

And the country endures

And the seasons change

And the river of souls flows

Ever onwards to the sea.

And still others come to stay.

People of different culture and tongue.

They scatter upon these shores

And the sands of their coming

Mounts with each tide.

These colours,cultures,creeds

Add to the palette

Of this lanscape.

Add spice to this mix.

Ever has it been thus

Ever changing,ever flowing.

The canvas grows richer

More complex,more complete

And yet,for all theat surrounds,

For all the colours in this landscape

Some colours,despite nature,

And the story of the land,

Are not welcomed here.

I look around,at all the different hues

I see them all. And am moved.

Why,so,is it not thus for all??

 

HM Williams December 2016

 

Ceol agus Craic

 

220px-177-Bodhran-Hinnerk-Ruemenapf-0037-p70

It seems so hard

To find,to function

To navigate a course

Through the sea of life.

To avoid the storms

The hidden reefs.

And keep a stable ship

A healthy crew

All is stress,problems

Things to be dealt with

Roads to cross,to avoid,

Obstacles to surmount.

Nothing is clear,easy,

Everyone has agenda,

A hidden mission.

What to do?How??

How to live a life

Without stress,issues

Invisible anchors weighing

Down the progress,

The forward movement.

To enjoy al that there is

Without constraint,regret,

Without subtext,wondering

What is next?Where

Lies the next pitfall?

Ah,but ’tis simple

Listen to the tune

Of all existence

And laugh…

It is but Ceol

Agus craic,sure.

 

H M Williams 28/12/2016

 

Loss

2b2-345x195

Gu Cairine,Beannachtai agus gra.

 

The fire burns,

As my tears.

I am warm sure,

But cold to my soul.

The blues play,

In answer to prayer,

In recognition of loss,

Of that which evades/

I’ll not feel again,

The love that we had,

Nor wish to seek,

To find the like.

But rather to stay,

To remain alone,

Free from fresh scars

From more loss.

 

copyright H M Williams December 2016.