Poetry – Time is Limited

Time is Limited

They say time is infinite

But it isn’t.

It starts one day,


But not long ago –

Out of timelessness

Into life,

With no distinct moment

To mark its birth.

It proceeds



Without end –

Until it stops.

Time ends.

Opher 26.12.2018

It is the sound of one hand clapping. It seems to me that the infinite reaches of the universe and time only exist while there is a consciousness to acknowledge it.

I do not remember the moment of my origination. My consciousness came into being. There were no distinct boundaries, no moment when I came into being.

When I am gone the universe and time will cease to exist.

Poetry – Ripples


The ripples we create

Streaming through the psychic breeze,

Caressing minds,

Like the wind through the trees,

Nudging pathways,

Changing how we think.

Like fish swimming in a mental sea

Drinking in,

Feeling the warmth of emotions;

Sharing visions.

Living in a mental soup

Of thoughts and dreams,

Bathing us in feelings.


So we may all grow.

Actions sending forth

Streams of power,

Streams of warmth,

Streams of love,

Or streams of hate.

Ripples rising

In the cosmic consciousness,




Changing moods,

Changing the future.

Eddies in time,

Ripples circling in rings.

Each eternal;

Each expanding,





Building into psychic waves,

Sipping at the shores of others,

Seeping into minds.

We all create the psychic flux;

The media in which we exist –

The zeitgeist.

We all contribute.

It is incumbent on us

To make it positive.

Ripples, eddies, waves and currents,

Cosmic forces, psychic reverberations

In eternal conflict.

Good and bad,

Ying and yang,

In eternal conflict.

The deeds we do,

For better, for worse,

Change the world,

Act by act,

Ripple by ripple,

Dream by dream,

Karma by karma.


The good we do,

Can become greater,

And build into psychic tsunamis.

For if we come together,


We can create such a positive force

It could swamp the world

For good.

Opher 9.1.2019

I believe there is a universal mood, a zeitgeist that is a result of the mental emanations of us all.

I believe that science will one day prove this interconnection. There is a psychology at work. We communicate.

At any one point in time there is a balance between that who emanate the hate, and those who emanate the love; those who are for compassion and those for greed.

It is the eternal battle.

We can contribute; we can alter it and our deeds and thoughts are the ripples that radiate out to touch the shores of others.

We all make the world the way it is.

Poetry – Looking Back

Looking Back

Perhaps in decades to come

You may look at an old photograph

Of a familiar scene from long ago

And see an image of a man

Staring back at you through time.

In that familiar place

He appears

Caught in the moment.

You might notice his stance,

His dress and demeanour

And wonder at his gaze.

What was he thinking?

It may make you wonder

About his life,

His intent and purpose.

When you look at that moment,

Forever captured in that instant,

Frozen for ever in time.

It might stimulate curiosity

As to the story behind that scene

In which that image was seized.

What thoughts were going through his mind?

Where was he going?

What life had he led?

What was this moment all about?

For than moment never existed on its own;

It was merely part of a continuum.

If you were to revisit that familiar place

There would be an empty space

Where that man once stood.

It is full of a story

That will never be told.

Opher 5.1.2018

This poem was stimulated by my photographer friend Richard Duffy-Howard. He was talking to me about photographs taken from long ago connected to his work on the river Humber. Using the wonders of the photo processor of Lightshop he has been able to isolate individuals from the old images. Those ghostly figures stare out from those photographs. Each of them have their reasons and stories. But we will never know more than we can glean from the evidence of what we can ascertain from the image. We can infer lots from the way they look and hold themselves. Part of their story can be guessed at – but only part.

It made me think that one day in the future somebody might be looking back at an image of me – a ghost from the past – and wondering.

We are all fated to be fleeting ghosts in a changing landscape.

It made me think of the Roy Harper song Hope. What strange ghosts, strange archaeology we become. We are so fleeting.

Poetry – Green and Red

Green and Red

Green and red

Are the colours of life.

Green and red

The vitality

That brings dreams,

Opens eyes

And gives birth

To awareness.

Out of all the colours

Of the rainbow

It came down

To red and green.

Out of the fetid mud,

The rock and soil

That is brown,

Comes life.

And brown

Is no more

Than red and green.

Opher 26.12.2018

Haemoglobin and chlorophyll are the two substances that have most symbolized life – blood and sap.

These two – related chemicals – have given the possibility of life and consciousness.

It occurred to me that red and green make brown – the colour of soil.

Poetry – Do Elephants Dream?

Do Elephants Dream?

Do elephants dream

Of their slaughter?

Do they cherish life?

Do elephants wish

For a better life

For their children?

Opher 29.11.2018

Too many humans see animals as expendable ‘things’ to be shot, cleared away, driven out and treated with no care.

They are not ‘things’. They are creatures just like us who relish life, who care for their children, who are conscious.

Poetry – How Much Would You Pay?

How Much Would You Pay?

How much is another second worth?

How much would you pay for a further minute?

What would you wish to fill it with?

How much would fifty years be worth?

Time enough to squander?

Opher 29.11.2018

I guess we wish that some minutes could last for ever while others we would gladly give away.

Yet life is precious.

If we had the choice would we choose oblivion or strive to hang on for another second here?

What is the worth of our seconds?

How much do we waste?

What regrets might we have?

Poetry – Explaining


Explaining sight

To the blind elephant

Is like explaining life

To the foolish.

Opher 29.11.2018

I don’t know what made me pick on elephants. I guess it is just that they are highly intelligent animals. But explaining a missing sense to someone who has never experienced it is a ridiculous thing.

It makes me wonder what senses we have missing.

What would the universe look like if we were better equipped? How much are we missing out on?

Who could possibly explain?

Poetry – Don’t get lost

Don’t get lost

By the time you get started

It is already over.

There are no second chances.

It is important to get it right;

To fill the seconds

With things that are important

And not get lost.

Opher 29.11.2018

Life is so short. We get caught up in the games that we can’t escape. They consume the hours and cloud the horizons.

Gathering the time and energy to sort our priorities is difficult.

Too often we are lost.

Poetry – Forever


In the midst of forever,

As if forever,

We pretend it’s forever.

Yet it is not even a fraction;

Merely a blink.

Yet that blink has to contain it all.

Opher 29.11.2018

We live our lives as if it will never end. We pretend that after we die we will go on living. We do not like the idea of eternity existing without us. Yet it did and it does and it will.

Infinity is all around us. We are part of it but not of it.

We have to take our small section and live it to the full. It has to be everything to us.