PARIS :: by the Seine

The river shimmers,
Reflects the sky,
The boats rumble on
Steadily
Lined by trees and
Dwarfed by bridges,
Watching ants crawl along
The shore.

Soft white marshmallows
Frame blue skies,
Sunlight dappled by
Summer leaves.
Along the banks of the river Seine
Philosophers sat and
Pondered their lives away,
Artists’ brushes blurred.

People march–with friends
Or alone
Or plant themselves on
Wooden benches
A drink, a laugh,
A water view
Is enough to shake away
All the worldly troubles.

And poets?
Poets are still–a pen
In hand, rough scribbles
Over tattered pages,
Every few seconds looking up
At the view of a thousand dreams
Pausing, eyes glazed,
Over half-finished lines.

It is we who reach
Down into the depths to
Describe the indescribable soul
Of an evolving city,
Centuries unchanged.
It is we who capture
Every breath of air,
Every rustling leaf.

For amidst the chatter
And rumbling motors
And lapping water
And pitter-patter footsteps,
Those who have come before
And those who will yet come after
Will see the same view,
The same river,

The same rising sun.

[Written 29/8/16 by the river Seine]

PIERREFONDS :: Camelot

In a land of myth
And a time of magic
A castle of dreams
Towered over a village.
Its blue-capped roofs
Emerged from legend,
Its fortified stone walls
Kept careful guard.

In another life
This place held magic,
And dangers besieged it
From unknown realms,
But here there lived
A valiant prince
Aided in the dark
By a lionheart.

They walked these streets
And roamed these room,
Bantered in long corridors.
Men passed judgment kneeling
Or held feasts beside the throne.
A warlock studied,
A princess turned mad,
And between them suspended destiny.

You may call them lost
To fantasy and fiction,
But in my heart
They lived here.
Welcomed valiant knights,
Waged wars against kingdoms,
Fought for morality
Fearlessly.

Here stands the last relic
Of their legendary feats.
The cold stone towers
And mosaic-ed windows
And stone gargoyles of fantasy
And cobblestones of echoed steps
Of the greatest wizard to ever live
And his once and future king.

[Written 9/9/16. I have chosen to put this poem out of order for good reason – this is a special poem  that describes my visit to the Château de Pierrefonds in France, otherwise known as the filming location of Camelot in BBC’s Merlin. I am a huge fan of that show and it was something really special to walk around that castle and relive the memories of some of my favourite characters. I am posting this today in honour of National Merlin Day – may we all have courage, strength and magic, and find our destinies.]

PARIS :: beneath the tower

A scene from a dream
Shines before me,
Rising up towards the heavens,
Holding up the clouds,
Glowing gold against the
Pink and orange sky.

A cacophony of sounds,
Multi-lingual chatter,
Bursts or laughter in the crowd
Swarming towards the tower like
Fireflies towards a flame
Looking towards heaven with bated breath.

Lively music hops into my ear,
The moon peaks out from behind
As the sky fades into darkened dusk.
The city settles down,
Uncoils, releases a breath,
All eyes on the shining symbol.

Streetlights glimmer in the dusk.
The Eiffel Tower is molten gold,
Its beams spin into the night.
People dance beneath the stars
Or gather in flocks on grass
To witness a dream come true.

[Written 16/8/16 in Trocadero, Paris. The photos show the transition of the Eiffel tower from dusk to nightfall. While I was writing this poem, a woman looked over and noticed, and we chatted for a short while. This was the first time anyone had ever spoken to me because of my writing, and it was such a pleasant experience.]

CRETE :: morning

Morning floats gently in the air,
Suspended by a soft breeze
That smooths and caresses my hair
As I look out into deep blue seas.

The clouds hang lazily about,
Dappled sunlight on the hills,
With silence save for the shout
Of a child who won’t sit still.

The climbs climb out from the ocean floor
Like rugged stairs to the sky,
But the sun is dimmed behind clouded doors,
Let me stretch out my wings and fly.

[Written 10/8/16 on my hostel balcony]

So ends my last poem about my travels through Italy and Greece. Next up will be about my transition into an exchange student in Paris, France, and my various weekend adventures. Thank you for the follows, likes and encouragement so far!  

SANTORINI :: what dreams are made of

Do you dream of white houses
Carved into the hills
Domed with blue and shining bright,
A maze of clay huts
On marble-paved streets
Crowded by glistening golden stores,
Backdropped against the perfect sky
That blends into a shimmering sea?

Houses set on red cliff-faces
Overlooking immortality
For this sea is famed in myth and legend
Stretching on eternally.
Islands rise from its hazy depths
Like the fin of some giant
Sea-monster content to bake in the sun
And watch us frolic in crystal waves

Or sit upon a white-walled house
Staring out into our dreams.

[Written 09/08/16 on the ferry to Crete]

SANTORINI :: a sonnet

The azure sea blends into the sky
With a paintbrush of summery haze,
Shimmering white buildings dot high
Above a barren cliff face.

Blue-topped domes on marble streets
Survey the white-washed walls
Of clay buildings glowing in heat
And a thousand coloured doors.

Here I sit and watch the blue expanse
With a cold drink and feet at rest,
As the youthful waves frolick and dance
Beneath a brilliant sunset.

Streets of marble and houses of clay
Are etched in my memory today.

[Written 9/8/16 on the ferry to Crete]

SANTORINI :: by ferry

Look out into the horizon
Marked by a line of sea and sky,
Where islands drift past in ethereal mist
And frothy waves dance on the surface
Beneath a cloudless expanse of blue.

Feel the rumble of the ship
Rocking beneath your feet,
And the four winds buffeting,
Tossing at strands of hair,
Smothering goosebumps on the skin.

 Drown out the noises of cries and barks
With music from distant places.
Blast the beats of hope through your veins,
Ride the crests of waves,
Look out into the azure expanse.

Paradise awaits.

ATHENS :: gift to the gods

Time builds all and ruins all.
Civilisations rise like marble towers,
Walled cities and carved temples
Stretch up to the gods,
Spread across for the men.
City of marble stairs and
Grandiose gifts
From men to gods,
From humanity to immortality.

A walled jewelled city
On a seaside mountain.
Marble reflects piercing sunlight
Across its domain.
From there nothing is hidden,
A white expanse stretches into obscurity,
Remnants of theatres and temples
Bow at its feet.
This was a place for the ancient gods,
Rising triumphant, standing proud
Even after millennia.

ROME :: Augustus

He was forged from blood and stone,
Moulded by vicious times
When men with armies ruled the world
But the fatal blade came from allies.

The sand beneath his feet shifted
The winds of fortune blew to and fro.
There were those who snickered at him,
A child on Caesar’s throne?

Turned his nose up, smiled at them,
Rode by arrayed in splended robes.
It was not age that counted here,
It was genius, didn’t they know?

He crushed plots with a wave of his hand,
Murdered plotters with a nod,
Stared his enemies straight in the eye,
Fear pierced them to the core.

His generals were victorious in war
His purse was loose and generous
His charming wit disarmed the Senate
With false modesty and fairness.

He sat at the centre of the world,
Surveyed his conquered lands,
Watched armies bowing at his feet:
The world complied with every demand.

First Emperor of the Empire
A god disguised as a man,
Augustus Caesar ruled the world
Turned Rome from marble from sand.

[Written on 4/8/16]

ROME :: the eternal city

All roads lead to Rome
To the eternal city of majesty.
Caesar once walked this same road
As did all those who left their mark,
Carved their name in triumph
Expecting immortality,
With buildings that would last forever
And their legacy reverberate
Through history.

The boundless power of Emperors
Stretched to the corners of the world
With but one twist of the hand
They decided the fates of thousands,
Waged war and judged justice,
Ruled over life and death,
Built monuments that would hold their legacies
When their names are lost to antiquity
And their bones ground into dust.

I will never meet these gods amongst men
But their names are familiar to me,
Surreal stories of lavish lives
Float down in legends,
Enrapture my imagination.
They appear in my mind crowned with gold,
Melodious voices and piercing eyes,
A pantheon of rules who long ago
Mastered the world.

But now I have seen with my own eyes
The fruits of labour of men
Dead for two thousand years,
Colossal statues and intricate temples,
Archs of triumphs standing proud,
Magnificent palaces stretching across hills,
A never-ending list
Of achievements and conquered lands
Etched into stone for posterity.

I have been dwarfed by giant arches,
Stood like an ant beneath ruined temples,
Lost myself in an imperial maze,
Stared into the soul of history itself.
I have walked the same roads as conquerors,
Gazed up at statues of deities,
Been entertained in giant ampitheatres,
And all that time awed
By the splendour of Emperors.

—

Two millennia have passed since then.
Buildings have crumbled,
Gold and marble have been stripped
From the magnificence of ancient sites.
And now only fragments stand,
Some faded, some ruined,
Worn and dusty
Blocks of stone.
Food for worms.

But even so, it is surreal
To stand on roads paved by ancient men,
To admire naught but
Three pillars
In the burning noontide heat,
Or get lost in a ruined palace,
Once the centre of the world,
And imagine what had been
The crowning jewel of another era.

[Written on 4/8/16]