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A little fishing village in India

1997

by Dailan Hatherley

 

The moon full and bright dances on the rippling ocean.
Fish frolic in the fertile plasma.
Lost temples are hidden as jellyfish float by.
Ancient fishermen steer through unseen waterways.
Their young learned boys gaze towards the shore,
With thoughts of western temptations.
Transiently I drift through both friend and foe.
As time slowly slips away.

 

This long life

by Dailan Hatherley

 

I'm plain,
I don't enjoy much pain.
I sit in bed on my days off,
With my curtain drawn and the windows shut.
I listen to the cars and conversations floating past outside.
I drink my tea, eat my toast, and I wash and bathe.
When the night time comes I watch T.V. if I can,
And think about how I can be a man.
Then it's time to sleep,
I turn off the light, and stare at the space behind my eyes.
I dream of dreams and trees and flight.
The next day comes and I'm still alive.
I'm plain,
I don't enjoy much pain.
The rest times over once again.
I begin to think of my next distant scene.
Caught in the bubble, my self reflecting box,
I live in passages of routine, which I cling to.
The days get shorter and my shadow grows longer.
Breathing is getting harder to do.

 

 

I don't want us to end

by Dailan Hatherley

 

My love is a struggling beetle,
In a desert storm of pain.
The dreams of my youth are slipping away,
And the earth is parched and dry
Another day lost in the fields of uncertainty.
While the wind gently blows the rain.
Spring is here to adorn my silent decay,
As I look in hope at the sky.
The mirror of my soul is apon me,
As I etch my lonely defeat.
Darkened passion illuminates,
The cowering shadows of despair.
The appointment of freedom, space
And chronological memories strain,
To penetrate the whims of desire.

 

Life remedy, No# 1

by Dailan Hatherley

 

When all is doomed and messy.
When no-one understands.
When frustration and loneliness,
Walk silently hand in hand.
When music seems to haunt you,
And childhood’s far away.
When it seems you just can't face,
Another pointless day.
Remember there was magic.
Magic in your play,
Magic floating in and out,
And every other way.
Life was full of mystery, life was,
But a game.
Remember those times ? I do.
But for me it's still the same.

 

* * *

 

©1997

 

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