Today's poem is a "Golden Oldie" and was originally published here in January 2013.
He has no need of X Factor auditions
As he cruises the murky ocean depths
Looking for some tasty seafood to eat.
He has no anxiety about being a one hit wonder
Or being relevant in a constantly changing marketplace,
As he silently crosses coral reefs and
Converts sunlight to energy, while being
Swept along by warm ocean currents.
He doesn't dream of snorting cocaine from the chests of groupies
As he senses shades of light and dark from eyes at the end of his arms.
Just clean water and plankton are all he needs for happiness.
To reproduce he has no need of sordid snatched encounters
With star struck whimsies, in a drug fuelled haze at public conveniences.
He simply breaks an inch or two from a leg, which grows into another him.
Not for him the tortured artist persona, at the mercy of public taste or abandonment,
Because he truly is, and always will be, a Star [fish].
Stuart Price
Showing posts with label Stuart Price. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stuart Price. Show all posts
To David Bowie - Stuart Price
Today's poem is a "Golden Oldie" and was originally published here in February 2012
Man of whimsy, pale beauty and thinness
Close adored friend of both ways fantasy
And lonely teenage bedsitter distress
Whose pain and trouble you alone could see;
You were as cool as cool as man could be
Exploring the stars is there life on Mars ?
Oh how we all wanted to be like thee.
Iconic, ironic not moronic
Your created personas a tonic
For the strikes and stress of the Seventies.
Stuart Price
(Very loosely based on Keats wonderful poem 'To Autumn')
Man of whimsy, pale beauty and thinness
Close adored friend of both ways fantasy
And lonely teenage bedsitter distress
Whose pain and trouble you alone could see;
You were as cool as cool as man could be
Exploring the stars is there life on Mars ?
Oh how we all wanted to be like thee.
Iconic, ironic not moronic
Your created personas a tonic
For the strikes and stress of the Seventies.
Stuart Price
(Very loosely based on Keats wonderful poem 'To Autumn')
More - Beyond The Sweet Shop - Stuart Price
What a wonderful world this is, of delicious treats all around,
To find a chocolatier, I simply drive my car into town.
Every whim and desire I can easily satisfy
'Til Billy Bunter of the Beano I come to exemplify !
These delicious cocktails, will they satisfy me forever,
Or be a passing fancy in life's rich endeavour ?
A bonus, a treat, but not my completion,
Whatever the size, the taste or sensation.
So easy to become the victim or our desires,
Corrupting the good, as robbers and liars.
Making pleasure our objective, our unholy goal
To surrender our sanity, our bedevilled soul.
Surely there is better than all of these things ?
Like the awakening sunrise as a nightingale sings.
A delicate breeze and a peacock's feather,
A mother's love for her child, which can go on forever.
Some compassion and kindness for all of mankind
For those big and small, with none left behind.
As rocks become crystals and plants turn to flowers
I catch a glimpse of eternity in these sublime powers.
An order, a logic, to life's divine dance
To know truth we must speak it, for otherwise we can't.
To be stuck in the prison of our minds is a shame,
With joy in our hearts we can all win the game.
Stuart Price
To find a chocolatier, I simply drive my car into town.
Every whim and desire I can easily satisfy
'Til Billy Bunter of the Beano I come to exemplify !
These delicious cocktails, will they satisfy me forever,
Or be a passing fancy in life's rich endeavour ?
A bonus, a treat, but not my completion,
Whatever the size, the taste or sensation.
So easy to become the victim or our desires,
Corrupting the good, as robbers and liars.
Making pleasure our objective, our unholy goal
To surrender our sanity, our bedevilled soul.
Surely there is better than all of these things ?
Like the awakening sunrise as a nightingale sings.
A delicate breeze and a peacock's feather,
A mother's love for her child, which can go on forever.
Some compassion and kindness for all of mankind
For those big and small, with none left behind.
As rocks become crystals and plants turn to flowers
I catch a glimpse of eternity in these sublime powers.
An order, a logic, to life's divine dance
To know truth we must speak it, for otherwise we can't.
To be stuck in the prison of our minds is a shame,
With joy in our hearts we can all win the game.
Stuart Price
Someone Who Knows - Stuart Price
How do we feed all the starving people ?
There must be someone who knows
How to end all wars and greed forever
And where all the money goes.....
How do we house all the Homeless
There must be someone who knows
How to cure all pain, loss and sadness,
And show us where happiness flows......
Where are all the doctors for the sick and needy ?
There must be someone who knows
How to lift the barriers between us and Heaven
There must be SOMEONE who knows.......
Stuart Price
There must be someone who knows
How to end all wars and greed forever
And where all the money goes.....
How do we house all the Homeless
There must be someone who knows
How to cure all pain, loss and sadness,
And show us where happiness flows......
Where are all the doctors for the sick and needy ?
There must be someone who knows
How to lift the barriers between us and Heaven
There must be SOMEONE who knows.......
Stuart Price
The Starfish - Stuart Price
He has no need of X Factor auditions
As he cruises the murky ocean depths
Looking for some tasty seafood to eat.
He has no anxiety about being a one hit wonder
Or being relevant in a constantly changing marketplace,
As he silently crosses coral reefs and
Converts sunlight to energy, while being
Swept along by warm ocean currents.
He doesn't dream of snorting cocaine from the chests of groupies
As he senses shades of light and dark from eyes at the end of his arms.
Just clean water and plankton are all he needs for happiness.
To reproduce he has no need of sordid snatched encounters
With star struck whimsies, in a drug fuelled haze at public conveniences.
He simply breaks an inch or two from a leg, which grows into another him.
Not for him the tortured artist persona, at the mercy of public taste or abandonment,
Because he truly is, and always will be, a Star [fish].
Stuart Price
As he cruises the murky ocean depths
Looking for some tasty seafood to eat.
He has no anxiety about being a one hit wonder
Or being relevant in a constantly changing marketplace,
As he silently crosses coral reefs and
Converts sunlight to energy, while being
Swept along by warm ocean currents.
He doesn't dream of snorting cocaine from the chests of groupies
As he senses shades of light and dark from eyes at the end of his arms.
Just clean water and plankton are all he needs for happiness.
To reproduce he has no need of sordid snatched encounters
With star struck whimsies, in a drug fuelled haze at public conveniences.
He simply breaks an inch or two from a leg, which grows into another him.
Not for him the tortured artist persona, at the mercy of public taste or abandonment,
Because he truly is, and always will be, a Star [fish].
Stuart Price
Hang-Gliding - Stuart Price
Eighty pounds of weight on my shoulders as I climb the magical hill,
Rhossili Down on the Gower Peninsula, my fondest memory still.
A vast magnificent expanse of green, erupted at the edge of the sea,
That I would soon be flying over, high on life, smiling, happy and free.
We practically sprinted up the hill in our enthusiasm to leave this world below
With it’s temporary pleasures and sadness, where pain and suffering grow.
But first to assemble this aluminium and sail cloth, earth leaving glider
With Mylar and concealed floating cross tube, to make me fly higher.
At last it is rigged, pip pins, batons and leading edges all pre-flight inspected
Best to take my time with this procedure than have it bitterly regretted.
I’m standing on the edge, fresh breeze in my face, attached to my wing.
A friend holds down the nose, at last he lets go and upwards I zing !
I pull my weight forward to increase airspeed and fly away from the hill
I'm two hundred feet above where I started, how to describe this thrill ?
It's an ecstasy that's legal and completely natural still, this freedom, this oneness
This fountain of natural kindness, that carries me skywards is boundless.
As my wing makes love to the Westerly wind with graceful ease and pleasure
I'm soaring above this world with joy in my heart and moments to treasure.
I'm surrounded by seagulls as I look down at the world with altered perspective
An hour has gone by and I'm joined by my friends, the hang gliding collective.
Dummy dog fights ensue as we stage friendly fights in the sky,
Zooming in and out of clouds with the element of surprise.
Don't let the other guy get a fix on your tail, cos there he could shoot,
To escape I pull my weight forward and dive down a few hundred feet.
I've not made it up, but there's a downside to everything at the age of twenty five,
In the many years since, nothing else has come close to making me feel so alive…..
Stuart Price
Rhossili Down on the Gower Peninsula, my fondest memory still.
A vast magnificent expanse of green, erupted at the edge of the sea,
That I would soon be flying over, high on life, smiling, happy and free.
We practically sprinted up the hill in our enthusiasm to leave this world below
With it’s temporary pleasures and sadness, where pain and suffering grow.
But first to assemble this aluminium and sail cloth, earth leaving glider
With Mylar and concealed floating cross tube, to make me fly higher.
At last it is rigged, pip pins, batons and leading edges all pre-flight inspected
Best to take my time with this procedure than have it bitterly regretted.
I’m standing on the edge, fresh breeze in my face, attached to my wing.
A friend holds down the nose, at last he lets go and upwards I zing !
I pull my weight forward to increase airspeed and fly away from the hill
I'm two hundred feet above where I started, how to describe this thrill ?
It's an ecstasy that's legal and completely natural still, this freedom, this oneness
This fountain of natural kindness, that carries me skywards is boundless.
As my wing makes love to the Westerly wind with graceful ease and pleasure
I'm soaring above this world with joy in my heart and moments to treasure.
I'm surrounded by seagulls as I look down at the world with altered perspective
An hour has gone by and I'm joined by my friends, the hang gliding collective.
Dummy dog fights ensue as we stage friendly fights in the sky,
Zooming in and out of clouds with the element of surprise.
Don't let the other guy get a fix on your tail, cos there he could shoot,
To escape I pull my weight forward and dive down a few hundred feet.
I've not made it up, but there's a downside to everything at the age of twenty five,
In the many years since, nothing else has come close to making me feel so alive…..
Stuart Price
The Horse - Stuart Price
A rider carefully steered his horse through the untamed forest,
A panorama of colour in summer’s full burning magnificence.
Branches of a long leaf pine swayed in the gentle breeze,
As a caterpillar crawled slowly up it’s trunk.
A fox blinked in the midday heat, deciding to stay out of sight,
While a leaf on the forest floor winced with pain as a metalled hoof trod upon it.
The compassionate overhead sun smiled,
Happy with her role as co-creator of this beautiful scene.
Horse and rider were locked into the same restful rhythm,
As of a slow ballad sung on a Spanish street on a July evening,
While tourists ponder menu choices outside welcoming Casas.
Except that here no money is needed to consume the rich
Meal, served as Nature’s gift to those unencumbered to receive it.
So dear reader, will you join me in celebrating all manifestations of life ?
Or will you go about this world, focussed only on your problems,
And forget to see the beautiful myriads of Creation that are all around you ?
As we make space in our minds and hearts for all that is good,
So there it will be, and a long forgotten memory of where we
Are truly at home, welcomed and innocent, will return once more.
Stuart Price
A panorama of colour in summer’s full burning magnificence.
Branches of a long leaf pine swayed in the gentle breeze,
As a caterpillar crawled slowly up it’s trunk.
A fox blinked in the midday heat, deciding to stay out of sight,
While a leaf on the forest floor winced with pain as a metalled hoof trod upon it.
The compassionate overhead sun smiled,
Happy with her role as co-creator of this beautiful scene.
Horse and rider were locked into the same restful rhythm,
As of a slow ballad sung on a Spanish street on a July evening,
While tourists ponder menu choices outside welcoming Casas.
Except that here no money is needed to consume the rich
Meal, served as Nature’s gift to those unencumbered to receive it.
So dear reader, will you join me in celebrating all manifestations of life ?
Or will you go about this world, focussed only on your problems,
And forget to see the beautiful myriads of Creation that are all around you ?
As we make space in our minds and hearts for all that is good,
So there it will be, and a long forgotten memory of where we
Are truly at home, welcomed and innocent, will return once more.
Stuart Price
A Snowball's Chance - Stuart Price
Simon snowball stood before the gates of hell where he met the keeper of that fiery place
A hairy beast with an unpleasant smell and massive warts upon his face.
'So what heinous deeds have brought you here', said the keeper to Simon in a scary voice ?
Well, said Simon 'I was always quite cold but for a snowball that’s ok and constitutes no vice'.
'Proverbially in these fiery furnaces you will not survive', said the keeper to Simon with an evil smile
Poor Simon was shaking and bowed, if he could just stay cool he may last a while.
There were flames of fire from snake filled pits and ghostly ghouls with puss filled zit,
When Simon saw this his eyes filled with tears, cos snowballs and hell are not a good fit.
Slowly poor Simon was losing ground, as he melted in the heat, spreading water around
That's it that's the end he thought but I won't cause a fuss and I'll make not a sound.
As his snowball body did slowly disappear he thought his death a bitter cruel blow
But he rose up slowly, no longer at the mercy of heat, or trapped in a ball of snow.
He was amazed to find that at last he was free, a floating snowball spirit on an endless sea,
I thought I was snow, a small ball of ice, now I can see, no way was that me.
His friends came to greet him and made a huge fuss, his hell just a dream, neither will it hurt us.
So no matter what happens, all our fears, guilt and pain, it's Truth and Heaven that deserve our trust.
Stuart Price
A hairy beast with an unpleasant smell and massive warts upon his face.
'So what heinous deeds have brought you here', said the keeper to Simon in a scary voice ?
Well, said Simon 'I was always quite cold but for a snowball that’s ok and constitutes no vice'.
'Proverbially in these fiery furnaces you will not survive', said the keeper to Simon with an evil smile
Poor Simon was shaking and bowed, if he could just stay cool he may last a while.
There were flames of fire from snake filled pits and ghostly ghouls with puss filled zit,
When Simon saw this his eyes filled with tears, cos snowballs and hell are not a good fit.
Slowly poor Simon was losing ground, as he melted in the heat, spreading water around
That's it that's the end he thought but I won't cause a fuss and I'll make not a sound.
As his snowball body did slowly disappear he thought his death a bitter cruel blow
But he rose up slowly, no longer at the mercy of heat, or trapped in a ball of snow.
He was amazed to find that at last he was free, a floating snowball spirit on an endless sea,
I thought I was snow, a small ball of ice, now I can see, no way was that me.
His friends came to greet him and made a huge fuss, his hell just a dream, neither will it hurt us.
So no matter what happens, all our fears, guilt and pain, it's Truth and Heaven that deserve our trust.
Stuart Price
To David Bowie - Stuart Price
Man of whimsy, pale beauty and thinness
Close adored friend of both ways fantasy
And lonely teenage bedsitter distress
Whose pain and trouble you alone could see;
You were as cool as cool as man could be
Exploring the stars is there life on Mars ?
Oh how we all wanted to be like thee.
Iconic, ironic not moronic
Your created personas a tonic
For the strikes and stress of the Seventies.
Stuart Price
(Very loosely based on Keats wonderful poem ' To Autumn')
Close adored friend of both ways fantasy
And lonely teenage bedsitter distress
Whose pain and trouble you alone could see;
You were as cool as cool as man could be
Exploring the stars is there life on Mars ?
Oh how we all wanted to be like thee.
Iconic, ironic not moronic
Your created personas a tonic
For the strikes and stress of the Seventies.
Stuart Price
(Very loosely based on Keats wonderful poem ' To Autumn')
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