Poetry – How can we agree?

How can we agree?

How can we possibly agree?

Me with you and you with me?

We live in universes far apart

That shapes our minds

Our thoughts and heart.

Yet reach and talk

Is the only way

To bring universes closer

Every day.

We will never agree

You and me

But we can still laugh

And set our minds free.

Opher 1.5.2016

How can we agree?

There are a multitude of things that create divisions, and divisions create distrust and hatred. People become entrenched in the views they adhere to. We all do. Yet people are people. On their own they are mainly caring and compassionate, friendly and helpful. It is only when they collect into groups that reinforce those differences that the feelings become magnified, the crowd become rabid and we find we have made enemies out of mere variations in perspectives.

Emotions are the fuel that generates the heat. Talk is the only way to cool the flames. Talk is good. Exchange of ideas is good. Listening and understanding are good.

We may not agree but we are human, family, we can understand a different point of view, share our fears and dreams and tolerate the views that are different.

We do not need painful divisions. We need understanding. We need love and dialogue.

We need more poems!

Poetry – I am destined to be big!?

I am destined to be big!?

I am destined to be big!

But that’s OK

I’m going on a diet soon.

With exercise

I’ll soon be back to normal.

I am soon to be big!

As my words

Elicit ecstasy in the

Correct reader

And I am propelled.

When we are long

In the ground

We are not so big anymore.

The worms

Bring us down to size.

Opher 20.7.2016

I am destined to be big!?

As an indie writer who writes what he chooses and does not court popularity I am sometimes saddened by my present lack of success. I would like a larger readership for my efforts. To have words unread feels sad. Yet I know that all it takes is a flight of fancy – one book to capture imagination and go off on a wave of euphoria – I am in danger of becoming big.

As a human being who has reached that age where my metabolism has fallen but my appetite has not I am in that state where my weight has increased. I have to contain myself to prevent my growth becoming too great. I am in danger of becoming big.

Even the most commercially successful and the most enormously obese are all brought down, in time, to become the same basic skeletons in the ground.

Poetry – Sucked Dry

Sucked Dry

No more words or reason,

No love or hope,

No friendship or dreams,

To sully the day

With false expectations.

Now reality must rule

And bathe the world in grey –

For colour has fled

And joy has been vanquished

So that we are doomed to live

In among the dregs.

Empty as the void,

As the vacuum of space,

Sucked dry of humour

And devoid of wishes

With which to kindle any flame.

Opher 10.7.2016

Sucked Dry

Once life was full of hope and wonder, laughter and friendship; it was so easy.

There were sufficient discoveries for a thousand life-times. It burned.

Now I am much older than that and my idealistic naivety has been replaced by the mundanity of life. Lately I have felt the energies dip on every front, the person I am change, and my dreams have become tainted with too much reality.

All my words haunt me with their imperfections. My hopes are sullied. I have had to step back and take a good hard look at where I am in life – I am not the cheerful, optimistic individual I have always felt myself to be. I am no longer optimistic or full of self-confidence.  My ideals look like silly dreams.

So I wrote it in this poem. Perhaps it is just the Brexit Blues and I will re-emerge in full optimistic mode? Or perhaps the Brexit vote awakened me to the futility of fighting the global monster that corporate society has become? I have to find a way of saying goodbye to the gorillas, chimps, elephants and rhinos, the rainforests and wilderness, and get used to a future of war, inequality and greed, where exploitation is the currency and profit the only consideration?

To turn my back on it all and feather my own nest?

I despair.

Poetry – Darkness Descends

Darkness Descends

Gigantic dark waves

Crashing on grey sands

As huge gloom-ridden clouds

Obscure the light.

Ice-cold winds bite through

The skin with shards of steel

As warmth and sunshine are banished forever.

Never again will the sun break through

To bathe the land with hope.

No more will the heart beat

With enthusiasm for the fight.

As the cloying mists of misery

Swirl in clammy fingers of doom

And claw the very life out of

All that would dare to breathe.

Opher 10.7.2016

Darkness Descends

Behind everything is a philosophy. It creates the ethos. It creates the zeitgeist. It pervades the air we breathe. Philosophy drives everything. We all have one whether we know it or not; every society has one as its basis.

The basis of my philosophy has been one of love and hope. I have put my faith in mankind and that the good in people will prevail over the bad; that we must build, through education, a world that is full of the best we can do and not the worst.

On one hand I see the destructive greed, power-seeking and cruelty that is mindlessly destroying the planet and on the other I see the beauty we create, the altruism and love that reflects us at our best.

Mostly I am optimistic that the billions of kind, caring and pleasant people will prevail over the far fewer heartless, selfish, violent beasts.

I would like to see humanity moving to a more civilised state where nature is respected, animals are not treated cruelly, our population is controlled, and things such as war, racism, exploitation and sexism are banished. I want a world with wilderness, fresh air and equality.

The only way I can see us achieving this is through a centralised government, the end of nations and religions, and a move out of the tribalism and primitive thinking that creates so much hate and violence. I dream of universal laws to prevent pollution, war and discrimination.

That is why the Brexit vote was so appalling to me. It seemed to me to be a vote based on fear and hatred that would spawn an ethos of isolation, xenophobia, inequality and further disharmony. It was the dream of the terrorists, nationalists and racists that prevailed over those dreams of idealists like myself.

For me the world lurched into a darker place that is less safe and much further away from the unity and togetherness of the world I dream of.

I can only see a future of gloom, environmental destruction and war. The philosophy of Brexit is opposed to everything I hold dear. I have lost my faith in people. The philosophy we live in changed.

Poetry – Sleaze


‘I’ll take £45 million if you please’.

Hello, hello, it’s the return of sleaze!

For the wealthy it’s all good will

Snouts in the trough of Green Swill.

Public servants and the poor can go to hell.

For politicians revolving doors are working well.

Millions for cronies and profiteers

For everyone else it’s a vale of tears.

‘We’re all in it together!’ Was the call,

But the unequal rewards says it all.

Cuts for the teachers and nurses

For chums they open the public purses.

Lining their pockets to stuff offshore,

The mantra of ministers is more! More! More!

Pretending to be all hale and hearty

The jolly Tories are the nasty party!

Opher – 15.4.2021

With Cameron putting pressure on his chums in office to prop up Greensill so that he could make his £45 Million we are getting a mere glimpse of the way things work. The politicians and civil servants have a revolving door out of office into lucrative contracts.

A piece of scum, like George Osborne, runs the exchequer and then, straight away, gets a job with firms telling them how to use tax loopholes to avoid paying taxes. He makes hundreds of thousands and they avoid paying millions in taxes – effectively robbing the British people.

He directly uses his inside knowledge for personal gain to rob us all!

It’s treasonous!

The politicians and civil servants use their positions to gain contacts in order to feather their own nest later. Running the country is just a stepping stone to huge personal gain.

44 members of Cameron’s cabinet have moved on to lucrative jobs in the very fields they were responsible for.

Since imposing pay cuts for the poor and civil servants, under the lying mantra that ‘We’re all in it together’. People such as Cameron and Osborne have gone to make a fortune – earning millions a year.

Is it really working? To have lunch with people and use your position to put pressure on so you can walk away with £45 million?? Is that what these people call work?

‘All in it together?’ Try telling that to the nurses, teachers and those on welfare who have suffered the cuts for over a decade and are living on scraps.

No wonder they don’t sort out the tax loopholes – they are all using them to stuff their loot abroad.

The whole system is corrupt.

Sleaze, cronyism and criminality is rife!!

Corruption rules OK!!

Poetry – Jewels in Eternity

Jewels in Eternity

Eternity is strewn with jewels

That twinkle briefly in the starlight

 And then gone.

Each jewel a brief moment

That is full of life and hope

Then flickers out.

Yet better than the darkness,

Preferable to nothing at all,

For we have our moment.

For we are those jewels

So full of hope and love

That shine so briefly in the dark.

Each one of us so full of joy

That put the stars to shame

Through our dreaming.

We must shine with all our strength

For that brief moment

Is all we have.

And it is enough

To know

That we have shined too.

Opher 5.7.2016

Jewels in Eternity

I had this feeling that eternity was nothing more than endless darkness. Even the brightness of the big bang and the coming to life of the stars would be darkness if there were no eyes to witness it or no brains to appreciate the splendour.

In order for there to be light there has to be the consciousness with which to see or else the brightest light is still in darkness.

Consciousness evolved out of the slime over billions of years, just as it took tens of billions of years for the stars to emerge from the cosmic gas cloud.

The stars will shine and shed their light for hundreds of billions of years to come. Will there be eyes to see them? Or brains to glory in their majesty?

In the span of eternity maybe the life of a universe is a mere sentence, the life of a galaxy a brief flash, and the whole of human history a moment.

Perhaps there are multitudes of conscious beings scattered throughout the universe with senses to see and brains that light their consciousness up with joy.

I imagined those bursts of consciousness to be jewels that briefly shone within the darkness; each had its vain moment of glory and was gone.

Each of us a jewel in the darkness whose purpose is to shine with all the force we can muster.

Poetry – We used to worship

We used to worship

We used to worship the sun and moon;

We thought they were gods,

But now we understand what they really are –

Only rock and gas –

And the mysticism has dissipated on the solar breeze.

We used to worship trees, rocks and streams

And pray to the spirits that resided within,

But now we understand the molecules

Possess no spiritual qualities

Other than the wonder that resides in our own minds.

We used to worship Zeus, Apollo and Baal;

Make sacrifices, follow rituals

And offer up our prayers.

Now they, and the tens of thousands like them,

Are banished to the past.

Their universal power no longer of consequence.

How many virgins;

How many sheep, goats and cattle,

Had their throats slit

In a futile attempt to curry favours

From an all too human god?

No lessons from the past

Seem to impact upon us now.

Our beliefs in Jesus, Mohamed and Moses,

In Shiva, Rama and Buddha,

Will last for ever.

They will surely not, like all the rest, eventually

Follow the sun.

Will they?

So I will sit in awe and thrill to a sunset,

Lie beneath the stars and absorb the majesty,

Smile with soft eyes at the spectrum of life

And relish the warmth of love and friendship.

It is the closest to worship I can achieve.

It’s enough for me.

Opher 22.6.2016

We used to worship

The lesson of the past is that things come and go. So many gods who were universally worshipped have toppled into oblivion. Gods and Goddesses thought so powerful that they constructed the universe and ruled all things, and either gave or withheld their assistance to humans, have been long forgotten. Where are Hrouda, Rura, Tiwaz, Vercana, Amon, Ash, Hu, Ket, Mut, Ptah, Aife, Blai, Clota, Cred, Ixtab, Mudu and a million others. People put their faith in them. People willingly died for them. Prayers, rituals, costumes and sacrifices were conceived to satisfy these deities. Their assistance was sought and praise was heaped upon them when it worked, and excuses found when it failed (we were not following the instructions were we?). So many forgotten tribes were the ‘chosen’ ones.

So many religions waxed and waned.

Yet the ones we presently subscribe to are the real ones; the only real ones. They will never wane.

For one who does not believe, such as me, the prayers, costumes, rituals and entreaties, of such superstition look interestingly absurd. While I adore the pageant, majesty and colourful creativity I share with Freud the view that I am witnessing a mass hysterical psychosis.

If there is a mystical force it is within all of us, all the fabric of the universe, and not embodied in some human created god. I do not believe there is such a human construct as paradise or hell. I cannot wait for the waning; for an awakening. We have life, an incredible universe and we live in the midst of great wonder and majesty. We are surrounded with astounding wonder. That is surely enough.

Poetry – Roy (a poem for Roy Harper)


Household dissenter,

Absconder and antagonist;

Army runaway

And asylum breakouter;

Prison inmate,

Jazz marathon poet

And convention flouter.

Travelling busker,


Dauber on the city walls.

Gig talker,


Singer with the biggest balls.

Awkward and acerbic,

Sweet and melodic,

Laughing madly in the gale.

A stormcock,

A harper,

Creator of the epic rail.

Opher 21.6.2016


I wrote this one for Roy Harper. It came out while I was sitting watching TV one evening. I had just written my book on Roy and my head was full of it. I imagined him as a kid daubing hammers and sickles and swastikas on the Town Hall, running away to join the army, feigning madness and suffering ECT, later being locked up in prison and heading off busking round Europe. There was a lot to fit in. He’s had quite a life.

Roy is his own man – a man who gets up there on stage and speaks his mind on every subject. He is passionate and has strong views. He isn’t afraid to say it as it is.

There are not many people around who are prepared to speak out against the environmental madness, the crazy controlling society, war, poverty and religion.

Heaven knows we need them. Roy’s epic songs have kept me sustained through decades.