The Poetry of Michel St John

  Upon the springy soft green grass I sat beneath the bright blue sky, time grew slow as clouds flew past colours rushed to fill my eyes. Yellow Dandelions grew, purple Foxgloves, wild red Rose, Iris petals shimmered blue, fragrance rushed to fill my nose. A cirrostratus veil of white, gently cloaked the atmosphere, filtering the bright sunlight, Bees buzzed & birdsong filled my ears. Blackbirds on a bramble bush, from branch to branch dancing about, gorging on the fruits so lush, rush to fill their hungry mouths. I sat a while until the wind, began to blow and chilled my skin, I thought I heard it whispering, It's touch sent shivers deep within. I woke up in my empty home, before the day could even start, I realised I was alone and sadness rushed to fill my heart.

Time is running out. Death in the East. Fire in the South. Some great rough beast's, rapacious, grinning mouth, agape. Preparing for the feast. While many wander West, finding Nihil. Gaunt, depressed, and deathly ill. Our true North alone is blessed. Secluded behind icy hills, Beyond all sight we skip and play, with wrong and right. Forsake the day in sheer delight. On bloody beds of thorns we lay. Embrace the cold, eternal night. We fled the fold and your control. A guiding light burns in our soul; To ever struggle, ever fight.  

There are songs that live unremembered inside of you. Their forgotten names evoke no excitement. They seem unremarkable, nestled deep within albums. Peripheral to points of light, which seem to shine for aeons. Like a line in a book read on a sleepless night. Like a photograph buried in a box of memories. Showing forgotten angles of a formless face. If you are lucky, one day, they will find you again.  

"Watch the birds fly". She said to me, & blinked her eyes, smiling, self satisfied. But they don't soar, in empty skies, they weave between concrete towers, chimneys pouring smoke, at all hours, devouring, the bright blue canvass, with dark, grey fumes. Seagulls glide past, dirty, weathered blocks, of flats, with light lit rooms. Over washing lines with socks, sheets blowing in the gloom. Pigeons gather in flocks, on windowsills to watch cartoons. Starlings, Sparrows sing all night, even when there is no Moon. Streetlamps rearrange the light, cycles, now there's no respite, for beast or fowl. No more takes flight, Minerva's Owl, or foresight. But it's alright, for the TV tells us so. Let it nurture you, and grow, in the ways we tell you to. In the ways that you are shown. Shop! Be Happy! Fill your home, With pictures of a World long gone. Tell yourself that you are free, convince yourself that what you see, is simple, right, & filled with beauty. Don...

Shining Sun, the light of reason, however near or far, I swing from you, throughout the seasons, you remain my guiding star. Illuminating all that's dark, divide above from the below, making light and shadow part, making life wither and grow. Guiding me on all my paths, directing me to reach my goals. Shield me from the wicked's wrath, banish darkness from my soul. Fill my heart with joyous laughs, when troubles they take their toll, Warm the waters in my bath, never let your light grow cold. Nourish me with beaming rays, so my life force multiplies. Make effortless and long my days, short my nights, and strong my eyes. That all truths I come to see, in their multitude of forms, that I may ever break free, from ignorance and other norms. Which keep the World shrouded in mist, and people stumbling forwards blind, brushing shoulders, throwing fists, seeking things they never find. Then sweet light of reason I, will promise you constant devotion. From the snow capped mountain high...

  There are objects all around me. A roll of thread. A green glass bottle. A dormant pine cone. There are things everywhere I look, scattered all around my home. Leather bound books. Paperback books. A lifetime worth of books. Dusty, damaged, well worn, ravaged, by these hands of mine. Two mirrors on opposite walls, a ball of garden twine. Two blue weights. A chest of drawers, of rich dark pine. Many pens which often fall, onto the floor, ball points, fountains. A5 notebooks, paper mountains, shifting over time. Two cups in my reach, each stained by tea, one empty. One larger, half full. Lemon and ginger vapours, fragrant, flee, circulate and linger, carried by the steam. Batteries. Remote controls, for radio & the TV, which shape my dreams, with shiny fables. Cables run along the skirting, behind a well used coffee table. Candles, wallet, nicotine, cover it's surface. Earphones and some old CD's. A passport, Watch. Behind it countless things, forgot, and small enough to fa...

 In a World of throwaway goods, and mass manufactured meanings. Crooked grins on billboards gleaming, salesmen scheming full of bluster. I want something soft of lustre, made by gentle, honest hands. With love and care, and time and passion. Something fair, not fickle fashions, made to fit a business plan, for moneys sake, seductive scams. I want lovers, not just fans, or things just bought and thrown away. I want things for rainy days, when there are no words to say, no jobs to do, or games to play. Give me something I can treasure, made of beauty, made for pleasure. ~MStJ

 I had travelled ancient lands, countenance as dark as night, you could never understand, how my soul shone pure, white light. I was young when I first learned, the World is bathed in boiling violence, many play with fire, burn, so their dreams decay in silence. One day a child sat near me, beneath the midday sun's bright rays, and spoke of hidden mysteries, then looking at the birds did say: "All that was and all that lives, are not defined by shape or form, but by their life, and what they give. From the moment we are born, we exist in time and space, for but the twinkling of an eye. No sooner have we touched the face, of Earth, or sat beneath the sky, at night to watch the stars above, than everything that we enjoyed, all we cherished, all we loved, is by some greater force destroyed. We have but a little while, in the sun, yet many a life finished, before it had begun, so smile, your riches won't diminish. Pure water springs from deep within, the Heart, freely bestowed...

What drives this body? What is this force inside me? It’s pushing me it’s pushing me away, from innocence, from love. It’s pushing me it’s pushing me away, from you. It’s something like a hunger. Maybe it’s a lack in my soul. Maybe a black hole sits at the centre of each of the galaxies that all of us are. Grabbing pulling devouring all the stars, all the light, around, inside, and between us. I have become a weapon that I cannot control because I can I must and will consume and never have my fill. ~MStJ

From your deepest diving roots, to your highest leaves, I feel the forces of nature, of which you are a part, welling up inside you. Invigorating. Liberating. The vitality, and evolutionary currents, which have been flowing for millennia, building throughout the universe Undulating, coruscating kaleidoscopes of colour, pulsating within you. Vibrating elements building, all things, all the time. Flowing in, nurturing, flowing out. A million lines, of texture on your trunk. A million tunnels, to transfer fluids, flowing out, flowing in, bringing life giving nutrition. The original interdependence. Living, breathing, essential components, of our world. A million microorganisms, unfurled, hurled towards infinity. Trying, jostling, struggling, to be, but not thee, humble tree, by becoming, you grow tall, lofty enough to see, the whole horizon, stretch, towards infinity. ~MStJ  

   For forty years, as Man and Boy, you've walked these corridors with Joy, upon your face, and in your heart. Though time it tries to tear apart,  community; your roughened hands, like well worn leather, have held this humble block together. Many are the tribulations, trials hard, and storms we've weathered. Pride in work, your quiet honour. Character the only measure, of your worth, not worldly wealth, nor rank or title, keep you tethered, in your place. You found a far more sacred treasure, the happy, smiling child's face, watching you work with loving grace. ~MStJ

Golden light warmed my body, beckoned my eyes to open. Open themselves, to Sol's penetrating sight. Forcing his way through the smallest cracks, in my curtains. Golden showers, from his big beaming face, nurturing Honeysuckle, Jasmine and Rose. Fragrant aromas floating, through my windows, blown by gentle breeze, into my nose, teasing me to leave, my comfortable repose. I deeply breath, put on my hemp underclothes, sourced responsibly, assume half lotus pose, then transition to tree. Opening my heart wide, to receive energy, and divine inspiration, I descend to my knees. Meditating until, my mind's in a trance, the world becomes a stage, and my routine a dance, that my body flows through, like a channel of love, aligned to higher powers, directed from above. ~MStJ

Fragments, so many, emerging, glittering points of light, interrupt the calm, of night-time reflection. Each bright point connected by, vast gleaming webs of spit. Saliva coruscates and drips, trickles into shallow pools of meaning. Formless begetting form, vapours hovering, over dark waters, from which emerge, the hunched backs of bodies, dividing from abyssal deep. Mouths agape, swallowing, thick viscous fluids. Fattened they fall, piled in foul heaps, of decay, to sleep. To dream. Centuries of History, displayed like strategic points, on a map, encapsulated, joined like dots. Haphazardly overlap. Borders stringently defined, guarded. They grow, wane, flicker and fall. A tattered picture, of it all, shaped by time's ravages. Crushed by the hands, in which it's been held, torn, between opposite demands, in opposite directions. To rest in foreign lands. Altered, falsified, purged of all imperfections. Given form, content, a purpose. Put in alignement, with the origi...

I see them there, out in the World. Out, in the World, mired in confusion, stuck within the confines, of their uncontrolled, consciousness creation. Or cut into pieces to fit in little boxes. Who pays the piper? Are you the hammer, or the nail? Nothing runs cleaner than the mountain stream, for the dreamer. Who scales high peaks, who hears Her nature speak? Beyond mere words, and all verbs subsumed within, the application of love, making love in life, to everything. What is sin? What do you bring to the table? What song does your soul sing? ~MStJ  

Don't hide the wealth behind your eyes, step outside into the lights. Ride the waves, feel the currents, taste delight. What is saved by your deference? What is spared, by your indifference? What's more rare than independence? A universe of pure coherence, vibrates alone, while your transcendence, leads you into corridors of stone. Sees you freeze upon your knees, before the worldly throne, of those most apt to recreate, the warmth and comforts of one's home. But whither home now? A fleeting fixture in my memory, grows weaker, of something like a family, something dear to me. Simplicity gave back, what infinity took from me. The babbling brook of a stream, gave me beauty richer, than the colours of my dreams. Fresh butter cream, was more nourishing, than all works of spirit. The voice of love cries out inside you, if you'd only listen you would hear it. ~MStJ    

The Heaven's weep with Joy, above the World's pain. Flowing from on high, the filth and scorn, to wash away. Resanctifying human hearts, God's omnipresent brain, bestows such light, that lets you live, and breathe fresh air again. Let's you shelter, under Him, heals you when in pain. A grace upon your countenance shines, and dries you from the rain. Lost in deep, dark stormy seas, turns raging winds that trouble you, into a gentle breeze. All He asks is worship Him, descend upon thy knees, before the Lord on high. Be free, submit in pure devotion. Give up your will to Him and feel, as though your body's floating. Pray for Him to grant your wishes, help you to succeed, Give up your life to praise His name, and everything you need, will come to you, by His decree, perfecting your identity. Once aligned, to the Lord's will, feel your heart and mind, with loving grace be deeply filled, bestowing form to thee, and you will surely come to see, His plan for you and m...

Don't put off joining until you think yourself ready, you have always been ready, just come as you are. Come, as you are. You were always coming this way anyway. Don't prolong the inevitable, leave now don't delay, for the days they drip through you. I nto darkness, slip away. Will you work until you're old, and grey? Lonely, cold, from the weight of all, you bought and sold. Or play? Like a dancing star. You're here for but a little while, however far you get, isn't far. Will you wear a smile? Or piles of trinkets, clothes and jewels to help you to forget? Your date with destiny. All the gold, all the respect, all those things you carry, will only weigh you down. You hold them, and you tarry, slowly around town. Did you forget, you must spiral ever down? However high you get, it isn't far to fall? And lose it all you must. It all must turn to rust, and all will turn to dust. No matter who you tell, no matter who you trust. The choppers axe must fell. Howev...