A Study, Oil on Canvas (1970) - Julian Clarke

Bohemian, in her semi-nude pose,
Dunhill cigarette impatiently burns
Belying loves truth of white petal rose.

Art of capriciousness in amber eyes
Captures spirit like dancing fireflies,

Lying abandoned, Pucci’s Capri pants,
A chiffon scarf her modesty covered in scant.

Of course her playfulness be cast in part
Cold Excalibur, drawn, pricks crimson heart.

Poets scribe her in gilded lily prose.
Enigmatically the painter flourished
Blood red, on lips, thorn of Baccara rose.

Julian Clarke

Breath - Julian Clarke

Breath

is our being.

Being is beautiful, and

being with you is as beautiful

as the breath itself.

Take nothing for granted,

appreciate the love

our breath

gives.

Julian Clarke

Last Hope - Julian Clarke

The visions are clouded for the cynics of mankind who blindly believe it best not to believe.
But Layla’s last hope for her sick one lay in the palms of a pagan priestess.
And so the priestess cast a circle upon the ground and with eyes closed she rode the latitudes of time.
From all points of the compass winds were weaving weighing mystic chants from the shaman of nations to dance in spiritual trance.
With karma gathered and harnessed in heart the priestess returned to her natural awareness.
Her rainbow gown laced in white flowed silently while hands circled the air as she sang incantations with spiritual care.
Layla wore tears on her cheeks that rolled to the earth as she wept with joy at the breath of her daughter’s soulful re-birth.

Julian Clarke

Painting Words - Julian Clarke

Take your angry words
toss them to the sky
hear them jingle and jangle
breathe a hefty sigh;

on an artist's palette
land with a clatter
watching them mix in rainbows
hues all a splatter,

dip a fine sable
lilac is my cue
colours leap out from my heart
painting, I love you.

Julian Clarke

Lost Childhood - Julian Clarke

Sun

scorched

before school,

water drips like a tear drop,

mesmerised by the unfairness, I stop;

your head bows to your reflection

cupped hands break the tension;

and daily,

tear drop, by tear drop

water trickles through fingers… it seeps;

slight ivory shoulders weigh so heavy,

laden, the vessel’s half the size of,

no matter whether girl, or boy;

now

look from the image on your t.v screen

your youngster plays with a new toy:

and still

tear drop, by tear drop

water trickles through fingers… it seeps;

slight ivory shoulders weigh so heavy,

laden, the vessel’s half the size of,

no matter, girl, or boy;

my heart weeps;

step by step

they go 

bare

feet.

Julian Clarke

Stillness - Julian Clarke

Why chase the stillness
when the feral mind runs wild;
inhale, accept, exhale, be free
body still, body quiet:

take these precious moments
for they're yours
for you alone,
relax in the stillness of being.

Julian Clarke

Silhouettes in time - Julian Clarke

​​We’re custodians for a moment in time
bequeath what? For our future forefathers.

Cyclical phases of the moon and sun
fields and trees and valleys and seas

Nature's garden with beautiful flowers,
frenetic buzzing, pollinating bees.

Winds of the seasons and rains from above
earth's breath be pure and blessed with true love.

Julian Clarke

How Peculiar - Julian Clarke

"Oh! I don’t like that,
It’s not my cup of tea."
How odd some quotes can be
Now let's put the kettle on,
For a nice cup of tea.

Julian Clarke

October - Julian Clarke

The dew soaked grass looks soft as silk
Shrouding the valley floats a ghostly mist,
Just for a breath the sun rests on tree tops
Rising slowly for a new autumn day.

Golden brown leaves fall on the ground
Dancing in a frenzy, swirling around,
Foreboding clouds sail on blustery winds
A watery sun hides behind one, it rains.

Leaning into a south westerly gale
Bodies bent double into a head wind,
People fighting with their umbrellas
Waiting for bus a huddled together.

Julian Clarke

The future's imminent (it’s not in our hands) - Julian Clarke

The brass key turns tightening the spring
How the second hand races, chasing dates
Evenly stitching together the edges of time:

Facing its face, no smile, no frown
Unzipping the seconds into minutes
Tormenting, teasing, running late
Unperturbed silently setting the day;
Relentlessly sweeping round and round
Each hand turning towards the future:

If the clock work were to stop, no tick-tock
Suspended in time the hands would wait.

Ingeniously, somehow they will always turn
Magically pointing to impending events
Mocking us, they will never age . . .
In time zones across the lands these hands
Never stuffed in pockets in perpetual motion
Engraving the past and sealing the present.
Now the digits twist in time, one understands
The future's imminent: it’s not in our hands.

Julian Clarke

Nature's Rhythm - Julian Clarke

You grabbed me by the heart
Oh please take me by the hand.
To run through the meadow to
The sound of the babbling brook.

Love making to Nature's rhythm
In the shade of the fruiting trees.
Our scented love mingling with
Sweet perfume of wild flowers.

Nature’s rhythm’s been kind
As we sit in our worn chairs,
Time drifts like shifting sands
Reminiscing – holding hands.

Julian Clarke

I Cried For You - Julian Clarke

Swish the automatic doors glide shut
Standing room only no eye contact.
Time passes, the second hand races,
Different races, expressionless faces.

A solitary bag full of mistrust
Hanging innocently from canvas straps,
Indiscriminately taking lives, crossing
Borders – societies cultural divides.
Metal rearranges, twists, screams in protest.
No time to run, just running out of time
Bodies broken, bloodied, ripped to the core.
Discoloured clothing now soiled with fear.

Unremarkable faces
From nondescript places
Aiding the wounded
A word of comfort
Someone to lean on
A hero for the day;
Back to society-then
Gracefully fade away.

Images seen through the eyes of TV
Unconfirmed numbers, but many dead
The bloody violence . . .
How many more tears must we shed?

Julian Clarke

The Good Ole Days? - Julian Clarke

Time creeps up on us the older we grow
Bent and wizened like an ancient oak tree,
Grasping the future all those years ago
The golden ole days seem the place to be.

A song on the radio from yesteryear
Long summer days drenched in the sun,
Wistful memories and lives without fear
A night out with friends having so much fun.
Now
What if the past was turned upside down
What if the future was flipped all around?
Would we still yearn for the good ole days
And not look back in a rose tinted haze.
So
How would we welcome the oncoming past?
With
Imminent conflicts, other people’s wars
A time long before the smart mobile phone,
No Wi Fi or texting so how would we cope
No long haul travel holidaying at home.
And
The 1970’s a decade of strikes
Fuelling an era of dissent,
Skyward inflation with many price hikes
Bitter was the winter of discontent.
But
What if we enjoyed the here and now?
What if looked on with a little less haste,
What if we’re more forgiving to others?
Live for the moment in a calmer place.

Julian Clarke

Dreams - Julian Clarke

I saw you in my dreams last night
I reached out to touch your face,
My hand went through your skin
And then your image dissipates.
Like a reflection in the water
That’s broken by a pebble
The ripples go on forever
Like warm memories
Of a lost Lover.
The morning
Chased my dream
Away and there you
Were still sleeping, I lent
Over to kiss your face and
You smiled as you were waking.
The alarms shrilling ring-ring-ring
Was I really still dreaming, slowly,
Eyes opening, you were softly sleeping.

Julian Clarke

The Beauty Within - Julian Clarke

When you feel the
Beauty within
You will see more
Beauty around you;
When you feel the
Peace within
Calm stillness will
Surround you.
It’s there for all
Of us hiding in
Every breath;
Majestic trees
Purify the air
As they dance and
Sway in the wind;
The oxygen released
Holds the breath
To give us the
Beauty within;
Can’t you see the
Extinction of trees
Suffocates the world
We all live in.

Julian Clarke

Remember Larry - Julian Clarke

The battle lines are drawn
From many miles away,
The soldier looks within
He hopes it's not today.
His head's in such a spin
Forgets it's his birthday,
Go; go, over the top lads
A bullet goes astray.

Mum sits by the telephone
A birthday wish to say,
Lying in the mud alone
The ultimate price he paid.
The soldier and his Noreen
Were soon going to marry,
When they turned eighteen
Not to be; poor young Larry.

Julian Clarke

Summer's Dream - Julian Clarke

You came to me on a sweet summer's dream
Passing through worlds of magic and men,
A dragonfly guarded the gate between
You’d sing and dance in this beautiful glen.

Now most of us find it hard to conceive
Of the parallel world of our ancient way,
Listen so hard and you must believe
Open your eyes let your mind run away.

Do not be fooled by her beauty and charm
Her pretty little nose and delicate wings,
Her mystical magic may well do you harm
If you don’t respect all of Nature's things.

You came to me on a sweet summer's dream
Passing through worlds of magic and men,
I wonder if you will come here again,         
To sing and dance in this beautiful glen.

Julian Clarke