Knocking at Heaven’s Gate


The stardust rose,
So ancient, glows,
A phosphorescent haze.

Though billions mourn,
You are alone
The sum of all your days.

Both boy and flower
Perfect the hour
In which you briefly bloom,

And soon are gone
Where all are one,
An iridescent womb.


More a mist
Than a voice,
More a glaze
Than a hue,
More a swamp
Than a house,
More a snake
Than a mouse,
More a germ
Than a louse,
Damp and stinking
In my thinking,
Quick to stalk
As I walk,
Lean and harsh,
Like a marsh,
Foul of smell
As in hell:
What escape?
Who can say?
Here is night.
Where is day?


Dear Brian,
With your twinkling, smiling face,
Infused with love, with tenderness and grace,
Here are my thanks for freeing me from shame,
From acid words and evil thoughts of blame.
You gave me hope, you brought me into life,
You breathed that peace that puts an end to strife,
And now as shadows fall upon the scene
I think of you and still remain serene.


I will not leave you comfortless,
A barren waste of emptiness.
I am the life, the truth, the way,
The shepherd of the endless day.
I am your soul, your friend, your love,
I am the Jordan and the dove.


I miss your presence,
I distrust your mind.
I long to love and
Know I am unkind.

I should be patient
And I run with haste.
You wait in silence
And I call it waste.

My anxious fears
Betray your youthful grace.
Forgive me, till I
Moderate my pace.

You gave me everything
For which I live,
And now our love
Is draining through a sieve.

I long to see it
Pool and spread again,
Renewed by floods of
Soft refreshing rain.


Light and peace are met
The silent trees are waiting
Sundown and darkness


What is a faithful life?
A child, a house, a wife?

Do I have one of those?
If so, do you suppose

That this is all we need:
Some comfort, ease and greed,

And safety from the fear
That closes in each year

As age and sickness loom
With shadows of the tomb?

Ah no! There is the thought
Of something dearly bought

In some perplexing way
That turns night into day,

That whispers in my heart
To take the better part,

To hear the song of love
That echoes from above,

Transfiguring our life
And bringing peace from strife,

That says to me and you
This only, You come too!


No doubt it’s very good
(I’d do it if I could)
To find something to do
Attached to me with glue.

Unhappily I find
That nothing comes to mind,
So here I stand and wait,
Knocking at heaven’s gate.

5th – 7th July 2013

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