Art & literatures emerging from everywhere in this planet

James Goddard photographs

in Art & Photography/Poetry by


Red, yellow,
the colours of spices,
the colours of nature,
dust, burnt orange, umber,
brown, green,
sky blue, water flowing,
ice cold, air cold,
people talking, voices, music,
silver, gold, the colours of greed,
withered black the colour of seed
wanting needing all that is,
sweat on skin, the colour of skin,
red, yellow, white, brown,
red, red, red, red,
blood only has one colour,
bodies together, performing acting,
never, never, all is real,
stories whisper, memories whisper,
tears congeal,
footsteps echo, life in transit,
ideas die, nowhere to go,
stars shine, sun shines,
light blinds,
I see nothing….


I stood up and went outside
as disapproving heads were turned
to stare at me and how I smiled

I heard the song—your last joke—
Jim’s rough edged voice half sung
half spoke ‘come on baby light my fire’

How apt that was, how glad that was,
‘why choose that song?’ not knowing,
others of solemn face would ask

But that was you down to a T
‘no cause for mourning’ you told me
‘the pain will stop and I’ll be free’

I understood, I laughed aloud,
I said goodbye, and you laughed too
as flesh and blood were turned to ash

I watched the smoke rise up—so grey—
but at its heart a glowing light
that danced and said ‘no tears for me’


walking, waiting,
walking again,
looking for sunshine
despite the rain,
seeing your smile
in a coffee shop window,
wanting to talk to you
not knowing how,
smiling back at you
a strange, lonely thing,
as I feel your smile
warming my skin,
no words are traded,
no names are spoken,
the moment is gone,
the spell is broken,
walking, walking,
sometimes looking back
I wonder who you were
my lady in black.


You sat and sat
until I came,
you stared, you smiled,
I mouthed your name,
the tabletop
was wet like rain,
as your tears fell
and fed my pain.
You took my hands
and held them tight,
your eyes were laughing,
full of light,
I nodded, stood
and walked away,
with no words now,
no words to say.

For Tikuli


When we were young we owned the world
and all the pleasures it could hold,
both those of flesh and human love
and those of wealth and gold.
As we grew older—pleasures spent—
we learned to value just a few
and enjoyed the simple things
that time and patience let us do.
Those years behind us, stretching back,
are not regretful memories,
although the days before us now
soon will run out it seems.
But does that matter dearest one?
When I look on your lovely face
I see not wrinkles or distress
but features full of grace.
You take my hand and trace the lines,
you touch each scar and mark,
each one a gift of life so real,
marked on me proud and stark.
You smile at me and I smile too,
I take you close to me,
I feel you shudder, hear you sigh
like whispers in a tree.
Then from this world you pass away
We know it won’t be long
before I’m back beside you dear—
the place where I belong.


where has it gone
that life that I lost
that I lost far away
in a place made of dust
of dust that was ancient
fragmented bones
bones that had come
from those far from home
from homes that we left
with tears and regrets
begging our families
not to forget
not to forget
the men that they loved
forced into service
by masters corrupt
corrupt to the core
and determined on war
on war for no more
than glory and power
paid for with the lives
that we lost in the dust
the dust that was ancient
fragmented bones


I am the shadow that’s always here
on the wall on the ground
burned by searing light and heat
from God profound
I am the one without a name
no one remembers me
I am the legacy of death
still here for all to see
seventy thousand more like me
their shadows burned away
they too became forgotten
on that dreadful day
maybe you don’t see them
maybe you don’t care
but whatever is forgotten
we’re still here


the glowing of salt
the cold light of stars
reflects on the sea
water is sharp
shards of dark ice
cutting the shore
as night grows old
no hand is guiding
no hand creates
chance is the cause
of life and death
we in between
are over so quickly
a brief exhalation
precipitous breath
when it is done
we are the cosmos
all that will be
and ever was


There is no other emptiness
but that you left behind,
there is no confusion
but my perplexed mind,

there is no other sorrow
but that which I feel,
there is no other loneliness
that could be more real.

When you walked away
I was sure you would return,
even though your hurtful words
left scars that still burn.

I seek you in the shadows,
I seek you in the light,
I dream of you by daytime,
I dream of you by night.

I always feel your presence,
although you’re far away,
the only dream I want
is that you’ll need me one day.


water flows, rocks break
sand forms, sun shines
rain falls, grass grows
people come, cities rise
crops feed hungry mouths
only taking what we need
then comes industry
cities stretch, cities grow
forests gone, earth erodes
oil burned, air poisoned
traffic flows, endless roads
wars fought, blood spilled
food short, babies cry
mothers’ tears, babies die
our ruins all that’s left
forests gone, earth bare
nothing flies in the air
seas dead, rivers dry
dust & bones our legacy


I left my body to science
I knew that meant slice and dice
As they cut through the skin
And peeled back the layers
To find what went wrong with life
My eyes they put in a jar
From where I can see what they do
My heart, kidneys & liver are saved
For a biology class to use
I watch as they take me apart
My body is so complex
But where did I go, where am I now
Is what has left me perplexed


today the gods died—
every one of them,
four-hundred thousand or so,
they imploded soundlessly
at exactly midday,
it was the last miracle
but no one really noticed,
their desiccated remains
fell down from the heavens,
specks of the gods
like every speck of dust,
they glinted in the sunlight,
we inhaled those particles
now there is a little of god
in all of us


I am a poet, but not as you think,
I sit at my desk with ledgers and ink,
I tabulate data in nice neat rows
that tell me exactly what all of you owe.
The columns I tally until they are true,
then I send out demands to all of you.
You think this mundane, boring even,
but I disagree, you see, to me,
there’s a beauty in this that you can’t see.
There’s truth in function, comfort in form,
and following rules that define the norm,
just as you do when you create verse,
whether aubades, cantos, dirges—or worse,
they are all just poetry to me,
whereas every number I write down,
declares with a clarity quite profound
something immutable, something true,
that to me is a poem, if not to you.


Listen for my presence
as I visit like a mist,
I’m all that now remains
of someone you once kissed.

I thought that you loved me,
but it wasn’t really so,
and finally that day came
when you told me to go.

I stepped out into darkness
when I quit your bed,
and a drunken driver hit me
and left me for dead.

You went to my funeral,
you said how great I was,
but you didn’t really mean it
and you felt no lasting loss.

Now I daily haunt your life,
something from your past,
but never do you see me—
how long will this last?

If perchance you think of me
let your thoughts be kind,
or please let your memories
kill the love that binds.

Freed then, I can leave you
to go where I should be,
so that your living world
is no more a cage for me.

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