Thursday, 30 September 2010


From Words speak for Thoughts

"I am not allowed to place a plastic bag over the rubbish,
It might be asphyxiated.
However silently I might wish its demise,
I can only pick up the crap it leaves
On me."

Truly yours,
To defile and desecrate,
The Water of Life.


'A PALER SHADE 'From Words speak for Thoughts

The beat is simple; the music flows,
Here a light is hidden yet shines bright,
Night draws the curtain up on the world,
Stars dance; the moon enters, stage right.

Where is the music to herald the queen?
What bird dares to sing her song?
Silence accompanies heavenly grace,
While the nightingale thrills the throng,

With tales this day paid to the past,
She climbs the scale and dives into the deep,
Then simply asks of one and all,
Do you hear my song or sleep?

A small, insignificant brown bird sings,
The stars answer with light from long ago,
The new moon smiles and greets her song
With reflection from the only star not on show.

Tuesday, 28 September 2010

Home is the Journey

'JUST WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING? 'From Words speak for Thoughts

Where do you think you are going?

On the journey,
Where my heart tells me I belong.

How do you think you will travel?

On the wings of a song,
Where I belong.

When will you arrive?

I already have.

Friday, 24 September 2010

Questions and Answers

'THE JOURNEY' From From Visual Counterpoint . com

Where is the sigh that should speak for my life,
Where is the wind that should winnow my soul,
Where is the water that should win my heart,
Where is the earth that should carry my weight?

.....On a pale blue dot that flies through space,
.....On a stage that acts out the drama of life,
.....On a river that remains married to the sea,
.....On a journey that echoes the sound of my feet.

'PLACE YOUR FOOTPRINTS OVER MINE' From From Visual Counterpoint . com

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

Here There and Everywhere

'From a Thought' From Notes on the Scale

Here is a moment that cries aloud,
Here I see goodness silenced by greed,
Here I create a single thought,
A child is born to meet every need.

There a moment lasts more than it ought,
There I see goodness suspended in space,
There I create more than a thought,
A child will be born with every grace.

Everywhere a moment lives alone,
Everywhere I see goodness in the crowd,
Everywhere I create from a thought,
A child born to cry out loud.


'A SELFISH WISH' From Notes on the Scale

Dance while the music plays through the night,
The beat asks only that you echo the sound,
By stamping your feet upon the ground,
While the tune is lost in the deafening fight
For reason in such an unreasonable scene,
Here minds are lost before they are found,
Here children’s cries are woven around,
All that is now or has ever been.

Lights circle the victims like vultures waiting,
For the inevitable silence that will follow,
A bitter pill waits in the dark for the morrow,
When the children see the fate they were bating.
Under bright lights that take more than they give,
Young minds are bent to reflect that mood,
Youth replies the only way it knows for more food,
Blind greed in artificial light will live.

Dance to the music but listen to the beat
Of a heart that once played a virtuoso role,
Alone it played and your soul it stole,
So you could thieves forever defeat.
This is a mother’s everlasting gift,
To her child in the face of need,
As the sun wakens the dormant seed,
A simple two-step provides the lift.

'ECHO FROM A STAR' From Notes on the Scale

This song is written as a warning to parents. Loud music can cause deafness.
If you doubt this why do you think workers have to wear ear defenders when they are in charge of machines that do not come near to producing the decibals that your child may dance to.
The children should be protected. Only parents can perform this role adequately.

Do not allow the next generation to become dependent on technology in order to hear the sound of rain falling on the window pane.

The photographs that illustrate this song were taken in Delamere Forest two years ago.
Here children are invited every year to write their wish upon a star that is then tied to the 'Wishing Tree'.
I photographed the two that captured the worst and the best of a child.
These stars both shine, as we must make our way through the darkness.

Starlight is within us all,
The moment of our birth calls to the heavens,
Here is a child.

Saturday, 18 September 2010

Hadean Earth

'SEE WHAT LIIFE HOLDS' From From Visual Counterpoint . com

So sweet the sound surrounded the surface,
So soft the air seeped onto the sphere,
So straight it bent to space-time law,
So silent this age echoes no fear.

No life was here,
No ears to hear,
No eyes to shed a tear,
Only revision reclaims the rear,
And brings silence near.

This was an age that defies our knowledge,
This was a time that we have yet to see,
This was the birth of a virgin planet,
This was the Earth before life came to be.

No life was here,
No ears to hear,
No eyes to shed a tear,
Only time remarks on the rear,
And brings silence near.

So sweet the sound echoes from the surface,
So soft the air rebounds from the sphere,
So straight in law it bends to space-time,
So silent this song is forever dear.


The photograph is of one of my African pigmy hedgehog babies at 10 days old.
His mother ‘Hedges’ and his dad ‘Benson’ are the proud parents of five born 08/09/10
Here I find the reason to write down a song from the past that resonates through time and seeks only the reason to be.

Friday, 17 September 2010

Shadow Play

' SHADOW PLAY' From From Visual Counterpoint . com

When night seems to follow you throughout the day,
Stop, listen and turn around your thought,
For here is much music for the dance,
Here are moonlight pools left to entrance,
Fall into the failure to wake, as you ought,
And in your dreams your heart will always stay.

Play on as shadows lengthen with the day,
Put on the red shoes and dance to death’s call,
For here is such music many have died for,
Here in moonlight many have cried for
Love, to waken a heart dreaming for all,
Shadows pass silently while the open heart lay,

Bleeding for the only truth it always knows,
Locked for the future in the present from the past,
Singing, as the only way to give the key,
From the few that have been to many that will be,
Now is silence irrevocably caste,
And from nothing a symphony grows.

' A SYMPHONY GROWS' From From Visual Counterpoint . com

I do not trust my comprehension of the written word.
Therefore I cannot with any true understanding visit other blogs and comment on them with the ability that I once had and now know I have lost.
I do not expect any comments on my songs that I post since this would seem to depend on my commenting on other blogs.

I have been told that I have a command of the written word. This is incorrect, as I struggle to comprehend words that have not been born from my own thoughts.

Thursday, 16 September 2010

Touch Sensitive

' MORE THAN A DREAM' From Words from Thought

The virtuoso musician plays the music score,
Why do I ask for even more?
Perhaps I hear the composer’s thought,
Before he transposed it on lines that caught
Only one dimension,
Do I hear his dissention,
From the music that is played in his name,
Even though it increases his fame.

No! The best excuse is that he is dead,
The living must seek haven instead,
So they run away from the lies they told,
The river runs from mountains very cold,
In only one direction,
Do I hear a correction,
From the music that is played in his name,
Even though it ruins the game.

Yes! Here is a time all can hear,
Every moment that genius ever held dear,
If only we take the sounds from the best of the best,
And disregard the noise emanating from the rest,
The signpost lives alone,
Within a standing stone,
We are recipients of more than a dream,
When great composers dip their hands into the stream.

Saturday, 11 September 2010

Ground Zero

‘In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.’

From W. Shakespeare. Sonnet 73

The evening light weaves a wandering way,
Around the fading sounds from a dismal day,
Here echoes find a final home,
Among the many that only roam.
Open your ears and listen well,
The silent walls have stories to tell,
Every brick holds a word lost to a lie,
The cement that binds them spells a cry.

Woven in the walls is a will to survive,
Here is music that once set a world alive,
Deafened by sound the children dance,
Under coloured lights that only entrance,
Here is the culmination of numerous lies,
The children seek help and only truth cries,
‘What you see and hear is far from me,
You will be only what you will be.’

The sands of time hold the footprint of one,
That encountered this earth; a job well done,
Here we have seeds of life that were sown,
On a fertile plot and so have grown,
With no help except from nature’s laws,
Life answered the call with teeth and claws,
Selected, our ancestors climbed out of the mire,
To find the rewards life must desire.

Softly, softly the sounds whisper so sweet,
While the wind winds a wreath around your feet,
Step carefully among the flowers so strewn,
Listen acutely for a long lost tune,
Watch the horizon for the slightest sign
Of order in the overall design,
Time cannot allow you to simply stand still,
For you convey the quintessence of self-will.

On this day I offer my friends across the pond these words that I have tried to form around my thoughts.
And this photograph

'TWILIGHT' From Words from Thought

Friday, 10 September 2010

The Edge

I have listened to the voice of reason that would attempt to keep me sane.
This is my song to those that find themselves close to the edge.

I found the reason for living in myself.

'THE EDGE' From Visual Counterpoint

The edge isn’t clear even when near,
The end isn’t known even when shown,
The future is not now it arrives somehow,
The past was lost at unrecoverable cost.

One and one when added together give two,
But take one from the other and nought will ensue.

The edge binds the book that all boundaries forsook,
The end leaves all behind but with much more to find,
The future waits to be seen like a queen,
The past in a closed window lies decorated with dead flies.

One and one when multiplied together make one,
Taking everything from each other and so only one won.

The edge to me is clear and very near,
The end I lost when I failed to count the cost,
The future will open a door to even more,
The past died with the last words that I cried,

‘One is one and all alone and evermore shall be so,
Unless one comes as a pair that both know.'

'WE COME AS A PAIR' From Visual Counterpoint
Sometimes it takes two to become one that then looks beyond itself to create time that will contain space for the future.

Thursday, 2 September 2010


Apparently any member of my website can upload photos!
I have removed the membership option for obvious reasons from my website.
I have been told I can re-instate my macro room but I do not understand how this can be done.

Unless I get instructions as clear as those from 'Veronica' as to how to permanently delete my guest book (apparently just deleting it from my site manager page is insufficient) I will not be able to put the photos back.

This whole episode has made me ill and I will not be renewing my website in 2011.

I am very sorry to have upset anyone over this matter especially James A Brown. Although Webs has still to explain how he changed my name for his as the author of the Macro Room.
I freely admit I was wrong to accuse him of unlawfully uploading his photos to my site although I must admit that the altering of the author of the macro room caused me to become less open- minded to his actions.

I have not written anything worth posting not taken any photos worth showing.

Until I do (if ever) this journal is closed.