Saturday 12 November 2011

DUNE NINJA

As dusk faded into the blackness of the field,
Shadows flickered around summer nights,
Flashing, the forked skies.

The blackened patterned trees, inflicting themselves,
Amidst the nights ether.

Sects dancing insanely around enchanted fires.

But unbeknownst, a figure watches, clocked in obscurity.
Sacrificial flames toss around evil sorcery,
The evil ones death incantations.

Time, then it happens.

Somersault spinning, shuriken flight,
Sword in motion and nunchakas assault.

The fight happens long,
But one by one evil ones disappear, dead.

He emerges victorious, the avenging, deadly, stealth-like, dune ninja!.


POEM COPYRIGHT PAUL JONATHAN STOKES
ART COPYRIGHT JON HAWARD 2011

Tuesday 25 October 2011

ENDOMININE

Along the old road to the secluded, sunshine place,
Dandelion arcs in the sunny breeze,
The night star twinkle and haunt in our minds,
As butterflies drift and i roll in the reeds.

The sun blazes, the undulating hill, the kites flying,
I move in from behind and embrace you,
All our lovers dreams and accomplishments,
I wish away hazy and bright, thoughtscapes beckoning.

Drifting and floating.

I, we, all are image and as i see the white horses and waterfalls we walk back from the paths.


POEM COPYRIGHT PAUL JONATHAN STOKES
ART COPYRIGHT JON HAWARD 2011


Saturday 15 October 2011

PEOPLE OF THE EARTH

People, the wonderful poetry and prose they write,
The Earth's seasons, forever and unchanging,
People, pioneering sport and playing with excellence.

Inventing the wheel, spreading the land with colour.

Making fine clothes, out of spun fabric,
Painting with oils, creating images from impressive minds,
Sketching with ultimate artistry, molding plastic and setting concrete,
Even pressing wood to make concave skateboards.

Forever immortal, shining in the Sun and playing in glorious oceans,
Where we all drift along in fantastic galleons carved from man's amazing tools.

People chiseling stone, creating wonderful statues and landmarks.

Balancing on mountain peaks and dancing in the snow,
Redefining extreme sports and setting records,
Channeling their thoughts in to computer programming,
Designing fantastic architecture,

Where all civilizations meet and love each other with eternal grace.


POEM COPYRIGHT PAUL JONATHAN STOKES
ART COPYRIGHT JON HAWARD 2011

Friday 14 October 2011

TREASURE IN THE VALLEYS

Since the dawn of time, peoples inventions have shone,
From the creations carved from trees, to the manipulation and creativity of metal,
Steel, Iron, Gold and Platinum, the harnessing of these elements,
Sculpting and shaping the Earths treasures.

Making them into objects for every day life and need, peoples genius and everlasting grace.

Musical, rhythmical and harmonious, creating instruments for pleasure,
Playing with their primal thought and ingenuity, smelting Gold and Silver into ornaments of glory.

Ever happy , with their cultivation of the land.

Forever aware of their equality , intelligence, flow and at atonement with life,
Painting beautiful pictures portrayed on paper, with skill and determination.

Their utmost zest for life, shining like Gold in the sun, destined for glory,
The mining in the valleys and beyond ,
A milestone of a age of brave men, 
Digging in black carved out tunnels underground,
Creating fuel for their loved ones back home,
Collecting materials from the Earths surface and below,
Spreading their enterprise and impressing everyone from land to sea and sand .


POEM COPYRIGHT PAUL JONATHAN STOKES
ART COPYRIGHT JON HAWARD 2011


Monday 3 October 2011

AMIDST THE WOOD LIT IN WINTER

For all the bitterness and anguish I feel,
The sorrow, the mind afflicting emptiness against society.

Someone stands tall,
Amidst the wood lit in winter.

For the cold calls on,
Haunts the vacant fields,
Where thoughts are one with him.

There is spirit,
His might rules supreme,
Empties my mind,
Of every scornful look on my face.

Which expresses deep frustration,
When they exploit his way,
I get drawn in,
To the shallow face of iniquity.

Then I realise,
Lift my thoughts into the wind,
I am in harmony with my creator,
I am in my right place,
Burning adrift wood lit in winter.


POEM COPYRIGHT PAUL JONATHAN STOKES
ART COPYRIGHT JON HAWARD 2011


ECHOES OF RAIN

As the rain plummeted down,
Beating upon the hard surface of stone,
The land around me sparkled.

Streaks of light penetrate,
The dense fog of the cloud.

Rain pitter-pattering with a smattering of rhyme,
Upon the terraces drenched and soaked,
For in my mind I am in an inlet of Caswell bay,
Scanning the rain from an echoing cave.

Seashores of cockle and shell shimmer and ring on frosted arcs,
Replenished in a paddle boat,
I row through the minds pastures,
Of droplets teeming with life in the netherworld of lakes and seas.


POEM COPYRIGHT PAUL JONATHAN STOKES
ART COPYRIGHT JON HAWARD 2011



Thursday 22 September 2011

THE SPLINTERED HORIZON

And on that splintered horizon,
Lay a bewildering shrine,
To which my thoughts could now metamorphosize.

Hallucinogens seemingly untied me,
Crying through a sadness deep,
The rain-child beckoned me towards her icy core,
Pain broke through to higher existences.

And in the never ending glory of God,
The father figure shone forever more,
The crying ceased at heaven , nirvana.

The enraptured heart lusted no more,
And crime never rhymed,
Beauty exalted,
Drifting off to a cluster of stars,
Saturns rings faded to blackness,
We had yeared through silence all along,
To a star- stained spangled epitaph.


POEM COPYRIGHT PAUL JONATHAN STOKES
ART COPYRIGHT JON HAWARD 2011

Tuesday 13 September 2011

DREAMSCAPE

The cold morning air breathed upon my tired eyes and awoke me to the mountainous horizon,
Shadow eyed and drifting along dreams,
I arose to the distant memory of the fall.

Disappearing into legions of stars,
My reflection was shadowed by the mirrored mist which hung upon the lake.

The trees shone through their light,
And i heard the echo of my timeless footsteps,
Which will always haunt this lapsless sanctuary.


POEM COPYRIGHT PAUL JONATHAN STOKES
ART COPYRIGHT JON HAWARD 2011




THE SIGHING TREE

Still to the tension of less chatter,
The olden timbers sank down the flow,
Of their expressioned tide,
Mangled crustaceans oer a jokers shape.

Chasmed as they sped a descent down,
The curving lanes and constricting veins,
Infallible scarlet cooled and could have,
Wounded the womb of its endearing children.

Wine left its haunt.

And the play of a smaller kindred,
Gave a kiss and marked its friend with a sigh,
Ripple said waters edge, droop with more silence,
You never seem to wage a war.

Your growth leadeth through the cover of a butterfly,
A shadow through a demon,
The glistening foretold a shining, falling, light,
We had yeared through silence all along,
With a primal soft sigh.


POEM COPYRIGHT PAUL JONATHAN STOKES
ART COPYRIGHT JON HAWARD 2011

Monday 12 September 2011

THE REALM OF NIGHT

Pupils that dilate, like two moons,
Over the crest of my sand shaken shore.
Hills that roll,
Stars in the blackness of a void,
Which hang the portrait of night.

The pinnacle of time,
A sunset realm,
Sun washed horizons,
Echoing sounds in the night.
Stalagmites in a cave of mystery,
Enshrouded layers dank with dew.

Fair ground trees piercing the blackness,
Pyramids across the cliffs forever.

I wish away to glide puffed cotton clouds,
Strange sights amidst the unknown,
Seen in dreams, telling of landscapes,
Shadowy in the realm of night.



POEM COPYRIGHT PAUL JONATHAN STOKES ,

ART COPYRIGHT JON HAWARD 2011






Tuesday 6 September 2011

PSYCHEDELIC RADNESS


Audio disrupter satellite signalling down to my mind,
Into the void with vivid all terrain skates, radical thunder flipped out blues,
Monumental countryside inspired with chunky skateboard fantasticality.
Blurring a receptive eye, golden wheels burning amidst stars, flaming into the glare.

A cool breeze and a sea sifted kite flashing with a myriad of colours,
Sparking break dance beats, with kung-fu influenced manoeuvres in motion,
Angular camera point of view to, blinding flash, aggressive move pulled with style,
Floating boats rocking the night with fairground lights amidst.

A shining star trail, comet blazing fire magnetised only by the atmosphere,
Three sixty flipping down staircases embedded and long lasting,
Monolith structures intriguing and pyramid bursting fever executes stunts,
Real and forever, just touching the screen in a dream.

The remote sensor on a stereo metal machine activates sounds vast and bold,
I'm soaring on a hover board across the exiting woodland,
One eighty spinning over gorges in a valley formed by huge icebergs long ago,
My talents are shining, I owe everything to God.



POEM COPYRIGHT PAUL JONATHAN STOKES ,

ART COPYRIGHT JON HAWARD 2011