A Dozen Moons Ago

A thick silence falls like weather on copious tables. Knives are out for culinary butchery and the forks sing like daisies in a maiden’s hair. Glints of fine luminescence fail to glamorise the awkward tension, like a barn door swinging in the heat of a fetid summer afternoon. It’s a horn of plenty, or a banished soul wandering in the fumes forever, flying never, constant ever, in the go-over. 

It’s a choice. I am the latter.

I saw you there, I had been waiting. Under the dome of the stars, you never once glanced at me. I framed you in the oblong silence but you did not turn. I saw you with that crazy ice-cream hair and the faceless men surrounding you like flies on a popsicle --- but you never looked. Trauma on drama to be so studiously ignored.

No warm unity or hot delights within or without or between us can say what could be wet or dead or silent in this atomised darkness. It’s of your own {cold} making. One-sided relationships always arrive with a full set of catastrophic punctures.

It’s all about the mighty dollar, see. It’s all a bloody purpose of strange delights to hammer the day with weasel words and squirrelled platitudes. But you don’t see that in your glitzed up champagne world of foul delights, do you? Make the cash and splash the headlines. That’s you in your timely dance.

Wrapped up or spat out. It makes no difference. It never does. It will end in tears. But in my reprehensible defence, I told you this a dozen moons ago.

Steve Wheeler © 30 September, 2021

Photo © Steve Wheeler

High as a kite

When you burn like a flame 

you’re as high as a kite 

and you shine like the sun 

in the dead of the night 

and the reason and rhyme 

of your mischievous grin 

sets the rhythm and pace 

of the mood that you’re in

When you dance the flamenco 

you reveal all your flair 

and the moonlight reflects 

in the blonde of your hair 

and your skirt flows around 

you like waves on the shore 

There’s so much within 

I’m compelled to adore 

When you weep like an angel 

or you sing like a bird 

there’s more sensitivity 

than I’ve ever heard 

It’s a natural wonder 

how you capture the light 

when you burn like a flame 

and you’re high as a kite

Steve Wheeler © 20 September, 2021

image source

Hall of mirrors

I once dated an anaesthetist 

but she couldn’t stay awake 

I tried the horn of plenty 

it was more than I could take 

A radiologist once asked me 

if I would like to kiss her 

but her x-ray eyes saw through me 

even though I didn’t resist her 

I went on the town with Dali 

we drank whiskey on the rocks 

We spent the evening painting 

crazy eyes and melting clocks 

I encountered David Hemery 

 on platform eight at Reading 

He was running late, so I can’t say 

which direction he was heading

On my next available birthday 

 I’m the age of sixty-five 

I really can’t explain to you 

why I am still alive 

The crazy things I did at school 

continued all through college 

If anything they intensified 

because I had more knowledge

I’ve stepped on stage a thousand times 

to play my axe and sing 

and once I even fell right through 

on a prayer, not on a wing 

When I shared the bill with Wozniak 

we talked of Apple pies 

Took selfies with my Samsung 

and he didn’t roll his eyes

McCartney knocked upon my door 

Said he had the wrong post code 

He’d travelled quite a distance 

on a long and winding road

Ringo did the same next day 

so this must be quite some house 

All I need now’s Jimmy Tarbuck 

and I’ll be speaking Scouse

I once got on the wrong train 

and I ended up in Dover 

The white cliffs were a lovely sight 

but I wished my trip was over 

Being lost I guess has been 

for me, an old familiar rhyme 

But as my life’s so boring 

it just helps to pass the time 

Steve Wheeler © 15 September, 2021

image source: Mike Pennington

All too soon

Leaden skies and a harvest moon 

say summer ended all too soon. 

The autumn leaves hang on like prayers 

changed to the colours of your hair. 

and we are lonely souls inside 

with yearning yet unsatisfied. 

Our hearts search for an August sun 

but autumn has already come.

As evening falls, a glittering star 

blinks into sight, but wanders far 

through cloud with golden lining hidden 

obscuring skies as yet unwritten.

and still we cling to age old fears 

as we gaze back on yesteryears, 

and leaden skies, and harvest moons. 

Our summer ended all too soon. 

Steve Wheeler © 13 August, 2021

image source

All the wrong places

Bright lights 

dark spaces 

crowded dance floor 

a chaos of faces

looking for love

looking for hope

looking for peace

in all the wrong places

Emptied wallet

emptied glasses

emptied heart

as the night time passes

looking for me

looking for you

looking for us

in all the wrong places

Play the clubs

play the aces

play the hearts

as your soul erases

looking for ways

looking for truth

looking for life

in all the wrong places 

Steve Wheeler © 19 June 2021

image source

Argent

Rings made out of argent 

cut to shape by golden shears

Face masks for the ardent

worn through the coming years

We measure hours with tea spoons

as we transgress dark frontiers

The days pass inexorably 

in the movement of the spheres

playing out our normal lives 

'til the tragic interferes

The harshest noise of all 

must be the grinding of the gears

So deafening, the silence

that assails our listening ears

resounding as the bulwark

of our freedom disappears

Will we ever find the means

to exorcise our fears?

Should we ever wipe away

the trackings of our tears? 

The days pass in procession

like the music of the spheres

Rings made out of argent

cut to shape by golden shears

Steve Wheeler © 16 June, 2021

image source

Since

Since 

the sense 

of innocence 

fled 

and led 

to consequence

I’ve lost 

my trust 

and confidence 

Now I’m 

defined 

in diffidence

Steve Wheeler © 12 June, 2021

graphic image by Steve Wheeler © 12 June, 2021 

Entanglement theory

In time, we were entangled 

joined as one in quantum manner 

In space, you were my tether 

Quantum glue with added glamour

Like accelerated particles 

our clash was sub-atomic 

But now we are entangled 

our attraction’s anatomic

At my core I’ll always hold you 

In super positionality 

We know that I affect you 

just as much as you affect me

We’re at once both up and down 

We are bonded, we won’t part 

Your charm attracts my strangeness, 

 truth and beauty rule your heart

Our ties spread out like foam 

across our quantum galaxy 

I may sometimes be a p-brane 

 but your waveform sets me free

Steve Wheeler © 29 May, 2021

image source

Epiphany

The epiphany that came to me 

transformed my outlook utterly; 

pervaded every part of me; 

became my divine odyssey. 

What first began as jamais vu

was all at once a bird that flew

as I saw what I hitherto

had found elusive, rarely viewed.

My vision came in dead of night

a dream of ethereal insight.

I saw a city, gleaming white

wherein the streets of gold shone bright.

My vision next changed to reveal

a vast meadow of flowering field,

with sparkling streams of life that heal

and fruiting trees of constant yield.

A wondrous pathway next I trod

toward the Great White Throne of God

and there I saw with awe and dread

the One from whom all darkness fled.

He had the radiant face of Christ

full iridescent, shining bright.

His mighty throne, the source of light,

made heaven's stratosphere ignite.

A million million voices sang

worthy is He, the spotless Lamb,

Creator God, the great I Am,

Jesus the King, the Son of Man.

This glorious epiphany

came to my dreams, inspiring me,

for as I glimpsed eternity

I saw through faith my destiny.

One day I'll kneel before His throne

and there I shall cast down my crown.

In radiant robes of white I'll stand,

protected by His nail scarred hands.

Steve Wheeler © 27 May, 2021 

image source

Overwhelmed

I am overwhelmed 

in Your presence 

when Your Spirit 

comes to rescue me 

It's a mystery 

how consistently 

my heart dissolves 

in ecstasy 

I cannot begin 

to tell You how 

You reach 

the very core of me 

You overwhelm me 

with Your goodness 

You, the spotless 

Lamb of holiness 

my innocent redeemer 

my long awaited saviour 

You overcome me 

with compassion 

and there's no question 

I am overwhelmed 

by Your undying passion 

Steve Wheeler (c) 27 May, 2021

image source unknown

Presque vu

Just like the scrawled black birds 

that panic in the chaos 

of Vincent's yellow swirling sky

Just like Zimmerman's spoken lyrics 

that pluck and worry 

at your liquid conscience

Just like the man who walked 

a hundred miles only to realise 

he has lost his motivation 

Just like the thunderous chords 

and orchestral stabs of that midnight concerto 

you still cannot recall

Just like a profound parable of the Christ,

half glimpsed and only partly understood

Just like the Bard's immortal words

that are infused with unintended meaning

Just like the homeless man

with the thousand yard stare,

sitting like a statue on the old park bench.

Just like your dark eyes

gazing off into a grey sunset

where today's hopes were unfulfilled

but tomorrow's dreams are still alive 

and wishable

Just like the brown tinged petals

that have scattered, fallen

from the bride's bouquet

Just like the decaying wood

on the old garden gate

and the patterns discerned

in the peeling curls of its paint

Just like the imagined faces

in the white vapour

of the boiling, ever fleeting clouds

Just like the tears you shed

when hopelessly, you tried

to make your own way

Just like you and your dreams,

your hopes, your fears

Just like me ... and mine

Just, 

like me 

Steve Wheeler © 22 May, 2021 

Photo © Steve Wheeler

Ascent

My new book Ascent is all about love and heartache. As ever, it is available through Amazon and other outlets in both paperback and Kindle editions. Poets write about what they see and experience, and I am no different. The book features more than 150 pages of poems (and no illustrations). I thought I would give you a taste of what is inside, so I recorded a reading of three. I hope you enjoy them and consider buying the book!

 

When salvation comes to town

Society will be revised 

the revolution will be televised 

the changes shown before our eyes 

not sanitised, no compromise 

The violent struggles of the past 

will be no more, they will not last 

The people will repent en masse 

when our salvation comes to pass 

Hypocrisy will be unwound 

and tyranny will not be found 

for truth and justice will be crowned 

when peace our citadel surrounds

We’ll take our weapons, melt them down 

bury our failures in the ground 

uphold the good, raise up the sound 

when our salvation comes to town

Steve Wheeler © 18 May, 2021

image source

Let me gently go

The burning embers that used to ignite

our hearts and souls are fading from sight

what’s done in the dark defies the light

as we plunge headlong into eternal night

A chasm is growing between you and me

but still we press on, regardlessly

My deepest fear is that you’ll one day face me

and your eyes will have lost their empathy

Once I could lose myself in those eyes

but now I’m a captive of my own disguise

So drown my fear, and let me gently go

Let me drift away before the dawn’s first glow

So let me gently go

Please let me gently go

You know I love you so

So gently, let me go

Steve Wheeler © 27 April, 2021

image source

Elegy

While we are busy living life

it passes us by

like speeding traffic

on dampened streets

We hear the tyres

but miss the blur

the only evidence

the red tail lights

While we are focused on loving

it very slowly dies/ like a summer rose

Its lustrous petals

slowly fade 

until they finally lie

as silky residue 

upon the ground

Steve Wheeler © 26 April, 2021

image source

Fallen

'Fallen' is something of an experimental poem, for me, partly because I'm using a rhythm and metre that is a little unfamiliar, and partly because I'm lacing sentences and phrases together that are different to the way I would normally write a poem. I have experimented with imagery, and I hope it works. The poem also more serious than much of my previous work performed on YouTube - it's about a broken relationship, and all the regrets that follow. In that sense, it's fictional, but I hope I have captured the emotional turmoil it would evoke. Do let me know what you think in the comments box below, but either way, I hope you enjoy it. 

Number One

I've been busy recently writing, recording and editing a new series of poems with the aim of publishing a new collection later this year. Some are such fun to read, and I'm taking advantage of the bright, sunny weather here in the South West of England, to go outside into my dad's garden to record some of them. I have recently posted several up to YouTube, so please go take a look, and if you enjoy them, please like and leave a comment. It would be most appreciated. Either way, I would love to hear what you think. Below are the links to two new poems, Rain Stopped Play and Number One.

Pop Vulture

I'm a pinball wizard in a yellow submarine 

I'm a honky cat in an electric dream 

I'm a wild thing playing on a tambourine 

Man, I was the lover of the Russian Queen 

I was raised in the House of the Rising Sun 

I don't like Mondays and I have a warm gun 

with hot legs like these I was born to run 

I'm leaving on a jet plane it's a quarter after one 

I'm hungry like a wolf, and I cry like a dove 

God only knows, under the moon above 

Put my helmet on and it fits like a glove 

Saturday's for fighting but it's Friday I'm in love 

I never kept my face in a jar by the door 

I shot the Sheriff, and I fought the law 

I won't be a hero when two tribes go to war 

through the barricades, I can't take it any more

Can't get no satisfaction from the Memphis blues 

I cried me a river on my blue suede shoes 

I'm a champagne supernova, I'm yesterday's news 

I'm an afternoon delight on the Heartache Avenue

I was born in a crossfire hurricane

I'd do anything for love but you're just so vain

I'm a Johnny come lately, you're my Lady Jane

You leave me hanging on the telephone 

again and again

I'm the Wichita lineman, you could make me a star 

or a fool on the hill with my weeping guitar 

You could be my baby, you could drive my car 

but you're working as a waitress in a cocktail bar

Steve Wheeler © 12 April, 2021

Image source

Fight club

You took the wind out of my sails 

You stole my thunder, removed my bails 

You pulled the rug from beneath my feet 

and I was heading for defeat

You saw the chance and you moved right in 

I caught your uppercut on my chin 

The canvas floor rose fast to meet... 

and I’ll admit you had me beat

But then I spied your Achilles heel 

and the other weak spots you conceal 

I used them in my counter attack 

and I quickly put you on your back

Hostilities over, a truce was signed 

and soon our lives were realigned 

Best of friends now, two of a kind 

you in your neck brace, and I in mine 

Steve Wheeler © 10 March, 2021

image source

Silent treatment

I’m listening

but you keep it in

in the constant din

of this noise we’re in

The silence is deafening

and still you’re keeping it in

You got my head in a spin

when you say nothing

How we gonna win

if you keep it in? 

Steve Wheeler © 27 February, 2021

image by Nuno Martins