Strider Marcus Jones's Blog: https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/, page 21

FALLEN LINTELS~Love Poem by Strider Marcus Jones. Copyright & All Rights Reserved

A Pagan Love Poem from http://www.lulu.com/shop/strider-marc…

FALLEN LINTELS

it was summer time

with flowers colouring the pantomime

in feudal fields

as i walked on flat wheels

with your humming bird in my head

from the tropical warm of your bed-

where we bent the grass again

and made the rain

that doesn’t come from clouds

dampen skin rumpled shrouds.

i watched your beauty glisten sweetly

while i held you like Bernini

before you went to work

flaked in bark of silver birch

naked chalice south

and siren priestess mouth

of pagan church.

you were converting fussy ghosts

and their sullen hosts

from bribed tribes

walking past without guides-

some, so inverted and duped

like shades with every ethic stooped

labouring like quislings

under Darwinist siblings-

slowly drifting back to druid stones

that serve us more than glorious domes,

more equal in each equinox

of chaos turning natures clock.

i know, i ramble for reasons

to make sense of changing seasons-

and find none

where i am one-

only fallen lintels on the floor

like broken words that speak no more

at sunrise and sunset

remembering what we forget.

Copyright Strider Marcus Jones. 14th April 2012. All Rights Reserved.

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THE WORD LOVE – Love Poem from ASPECTS OF LOVE by Strider Marcus Jones

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THE WORD LOVE

if i could take
the word love,
and give to it
the sound of how
you speak,
then look inside
its shell
and find you-
living out the years
like you belong:

i would wear
its shape and substance
in the shadow
of myself,
and hold it in my
empty hand
to not feel so alone-
then raise it to
my lips and taste
its phrase and something more-

as i head home,
along that rutted road
of fallow fields
and ancient tracks,
through what was, and is now,
and might become-
while posing pines,
stand and hang in quiet air
absorbing spoken thoughts
like silent sentinels.

Copyright Strider Marcus Jones. ASPECTS OF LOVE. 2009. All Rights Reserved.

NINETY NINE PERCENT IN TENTS from WOODED WINDOWS by Strider Marcus Jones

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NINETY NINE PERCENT IN TENTS

in the compound of this room

we make our tent

with revolution’s loom

knitting a firmament

that challenges corrupt times

with solemn slogans

to plutarch totems

simply marked on cardboard signs.

resistance kindles in the dark

and breathes new poetry and art

like a cultural tsunami

elites can’t beat with armies.

these sincere spears

of human spheres

stand soft spoken,

peaceful, but not broken

like disciples in fabric domes

chanting social justice tomes

while Jesus circles existential

throwing speculators from the temple.

we don’t need money in our tent

to make each other feel so spent-

only the sea shore, forest and mountains

to trickle streams and spurt fountains,

unlocking love when the cradle rocks

the secret rhythm of intimate clocks.

Copyright Strider Marcus Jones. 4th November, 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Miles Davis Quintet – Germany 1967-11-07

When these cats came to Europe they were given VIP status and the red carpet was laid out for them. In the USA Miles got knocked on the head by a policeman. Because he was black. Anyhow this is great stuff words cannot explain the magic that is unfolding here.

VISIGOTH ROVER~Poem by Strider Marcus Jones~Travels in Spain from his book WOODED WINDOWS

SELECTED POEMS from WOODED WINDOWS by Strider Marcus Jones

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VISIGOTH ROVER

i went on the bus to Cordoba,

and tried to find the Moor’s

left over

in their excavated floors

and mosaic courtyards,

with hanging flowers brightly chamelion

against whitewashed walls

carrying calls

behind gated iron bars-

but they were gone

leaving mosque arches

and carved stories

to God’s doors.

in those ancient streets

where everybody meets;

i saw the old successful men

with their younger women again,

sat in chrome slat chairs,

drinking coffee to cover

their vain love affairs-

and every breast,

was like the crest

of a soft ridge

as i peeped over

the castle wall and Roman bridge

like a Visigoth rover.

soft hand tapping on shoulder,

heavy hair

and beauty older,

the gypsy lady gave her clover

to borrowed breath,

embroidering it for death,

adding more to less

like the colours fading in her dress.

time and tune are too planned

to understand

her Trevi fountain of prediction,

or the dirty Bernini hand

shaping its description.

Copyright Strider Marcus Jones from his book WOODED WINDOWS. 2011. All Rights Reserved.

Peter Brook's The Mahabharata

Peter Brook’s original 1985 stage play “The Mahabharata” was 9 hours long, and toured around the world for four years. In 1989, it was reduced to under 6 hours for television. The Mahabharata is one of the two major Sanskrit epics of ancient India, the other being the Ramayana. Traditionally, the authorship of the Mahabharata is attributed to Vyasa. Without being directly related to them, the Mahabharata derives many of its philosophical concepts from the Vedas. The Mahabharata tells of Prince Arjuna and his four brothers Yudhishthira, Bhima and the twins Nakula and Sahadeva, all married to the same woman, Draupadi. They are known as the Pandavas, the sons of Pandu, who was king of Hastinapur in North India and himself the son of Ambalika and Vyasa. After the death of their father, the Pandavas grow up at the court of their uncle, the blind King Dhritarashtra, who has become the new ruler. There is always great rivalry between the Pandavas and the Kauravas, the one hundred sons of Dhritarashtra. Eventually the old king gives his nephews some land of their own but his eldest son, Duryodhana is jealous of their success. He challenges Yudhisthira, the eldest Pandava, to a game of dice in which he loses everything. The Pandavas are then forced to surrender their land and go into exile for thirteen years. On their return, the old king is unable to persuade his son Duryodhana to restore their heritage, and in spite of efforts at reconciliation by Sanjaya, Dhritarashtra’s charioteer; by Bheeshma, his wise counselor; and even by Lord Krishna himself, war cannot be averted. The rival hosts face each other on the field of Kurukshetra. When Prince Arjuna surveys the battlefield, he is overwhelmed with sorrow at the futility of war and it is at this point that The Bhagavad Gita, the “Song of the Lord,” begins. The teachings of The Bhagavad Gita (https://spaceandai.com/project/the-ba…) are spoken by the divine Lord Krishna, who is acting as the prince’s charioteer. They are overheard by Sanjaya and reported back to King Dhritarashtra. When Krishna has finished speaking to Arjuna, the two armies engage. The battle lasts eighteen days and by the end of it nearly all of the warriors on both sides are dead save Krishna and the five Pandavas. The Mahabharata – Channel Four Television, the Brooklyn Academy of Music, Les Productions du 3ème Etage; produced by Michel Propper; directed by Peter Brook B.R. Copra’s Mahabharat (English subtitles) https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list… The Ancients: Vyasa and The Mahabharata by Wes Cecil https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wIQ_… Genetics and the Origin of Ancient Indian Civilization https://spaceandai.com/project/geneti…

Books by Strider Marcus Jones Poet

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SELECTED POEMS from MAVERICKS by Strider Marcus Jones

https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/selected-poems-from-mavericks-by-strider-marcus-jones/

THIS THEATRE OF SHOW

i want to go

where love songs grow,

on the radio

into someone’s heart.

i want to know

if i play too slow,

and fade before the glow

can flame and spark.

i mend a dream,

distill it, to mountains seen

through mind and eyes potcheen,

lotioned by loves mark;

with tongue dabbing gleam

in fast flowing stream

of sweet nectarine

from sun up through sun dark.

i want your glow

in the thoughts i know,

before they dim down low

and depart-

this theatre of show

above and below,

where we all act to know

our own part.

so many vines

in the times

i know,

grape, but fail to flower.

i taste their wine

in its summertime,

but show

i am just a shower.

Copyright Strider Marcus Jones MAVERICKS. 2010. All Rights Reserved.

THE FOREST OF FORGETS

i don’t do remembers, or regrets,

not knowing, i belong in what comes next-

without the edge and angle of pretext,

find me in the forest of forgets-

watching your perfections dance and breathe

in my fires flames then read out gypsy leaves;

imagining your whispers in the wind and trees-

before they fade, and fall, and leave.

back inside the house, picture rails

of love hang empty

from bent hooks, that promised plenty,

leaving frameless tales in musty trails-

to dusty cabinets of more

trinkets and traces-

whose duality displaces

sky and floor.

Copyright Strider Marcus Jones from his book MAVERICKS. 4th August, 2009. All Rights Reserved.

SELECTED POEMS from MAVERICKS by Strider Marcus Jones



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Native American Sleep Music: canyon flute & nocturnal canyon sounds, sleep meditation

The Native American Flute can transport one to a more relaxed and calm state, especially after listening for 10 minutes or more. This feeling is known as the ‘alpha’ state, a state during which your brain is pulsing at a lower rate than your mental and emotional fluctuations. (Price, Creating and Using the Native American Love Flute, 1994). One of the most impactful ways to develop this alpha state, is by focusing on the breath. During our daily activities this can be a challenge, as due to our busy lives, our minds end up operating mostly in the ‘beta’ state. In this state, your conscious mind is dominant and your subconscious mind can’t break through to help you out, as it can when you are asleep. So, people who are able and trained to maintain a prolonged alpha state can deal with life much more effectively than people who are usually in beta (Price, Creating and Using the Native American Love Flute, 1994). In this way, native flute can lead you to develop more coordination, intuition, and intelligence. One of the main reasons for this is because listening to the flute encourages one to sit and ‘be with the breath’.

Flauta indígena e Sons da Natureza – Acalmar e Relaxar a Mente