Out of Body, Into Life

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today, the air was different
I paid attention to the seabirds
watched the tide go all the way out
to my left, a boat hummed away from the harbour
to my right, lost sheep chew green grass into yellow
a car passes by and the people wave
while Jack the black cat sits still on a picket fence
and Patti, the old neighbour strokes the last drop of paint
…against his saltbox home
I am shaken by something I can’t understand
an algorithm of existing in a moment of my life
seeing clear because that life stopped me in my tracks
pushed my breath straight to my lungs
grew my heart for the love of living
filled me with the longing for more
I know now that there is something more to every day
my heart was smothered and my soul blinded
until my spirit had enough and awakened

Whispers Toward The Darkness

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Another ten paces and I fall again 
to my knees 
the truth too unbearable 
like the scorch of the sun, it will burn hot 
no running will get you further away from it 
no amount of water could ever cleanse 
no sound can drown the songs of deceit 
when devils are allowed to dance all around you
their voices are soft, tempting, and following
their gestures a play before only my eye
pull me and push me…my story, my actions, my ending
I’m in a trance and see the world beyond this painful pane
fraternizing with demons and laying proud in the shadows
but the promises I have received still lure me
so for now I will bed the malevolent
and risk the glass being broken
 

One Saturday

My home

One Saturday 
an old used-up weekend in my life 
back when I was a small boy who took shortcuts home 
I remember that Saturday and how golden was the hillside
how the fences cast shadows through blades of long grass
while it danced when the wind played the lead
along the way I ducked clotheslines with flapping white blankets and wool socks
that made dogs bark for no reason
almost home I stopped to take a drink 
from a cold stream with those floaty things 
a puttering engine in the distance pulled me up for a look
when I do I see a fishing boat breaking the glass harbour
I become lost in the triangle wake of that trail the vessel leads behind 
as its crew steams toward their living into the greying eve 
while seagulls give chase for little company
it stretches a few seconds for me for some reason
captivates me, holds my breath, takes grip of my soul
until the lighthouse steals away the attention
enough to break my trance 
in time to hear the voice of my grandmother who sings my name
through the hills 
beckons my return from the adventures of my childhood 
it won’t be long now, just cross the torn bush garden and the triangle stone
like I remember…one Saturday
 
 

A Harbour Night

Boats sway nestled to port
quietly breaking the ocean toward the shore
its laps catch my ear
then, I see
I watch as the moorings drip
counting seconds for no reason
high over in the charcoaling sky
chimney smoke rises, strangling the hills
there…
blips of buoy lights reach north and south
tomorrow to be a beautiful day
this, a story, a grandfather tale
to comfort me
as I am ushered home by the dear harbour
before it can sleep it sings
lending me its sounds for sweet dreams to come
allows me the harmony of its salty crests
until I turn my door in goodnight
I listen for the songs of the harbour

A Night That Almost Lost Tomorrow

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That night was eternal 
drifting toward a forever sleep 
voices falling faint
thoughts of tomorrow escaping  
with time slipping away 
I walked toward a light I was not scared to follow
body still euphoria right there
but before the final second of a wasted life 
I found my soul 
it told me I was not broken
gave me the strength to awaken
promising another day to make up my mind

Celebrate Good Lines, Come On

copyright – http://www.spillwords.com (screen grab)

Hey everyone,

I would not sleep very well tonight if I did not let all my readers/followers know that I was approached to do a “spotlight on writers”. It is for my poetry. And, not only have I been approached, my interview has now gone live. Yes, the wonderful literary folks over at the website Spillwords, who I am already grateful to for having published several of my poems, have also reached out and offered me an opportunity to be a part of their about the author series. Not going to lie, it took me 0.1 of a second to respond and say yes, you bet I would and here we are, publish day. Spillwords set up the interview and the questions, and all I had to do was provide what I had hoped were interesting answers. Turns out, they were and you can see for yourself right here at this link direct to my very own spotlight page. Hope you enjoy it! – > https://spillwords.com/spotlight-on-writers-ash-douglas/

My Works of Heart

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There are times my heart speaks for me, this is the place I keep its voice.– Ash

Hey everybody,

I am just dropping in for a second. I have decided to tweak an already existing page on my blog. It’s for my poems. I’ve noticed from time to time that WordPress does some wonky stuff. While I was looking over mine the other day, I noticed some bugs like my pages cut off after a few “older posts” clicks. That affected my links and how much people could read. Damn you, WordPress! So, I went and created a page that links all of my poetry to one webpage and you can scroll all the way through them. One by one. There’s nothing worse than finding out people can’t see your stuff because of site issues.

Continue reading “My Works of Heart”

Young Summer

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took a walk-in summer grass 
picked a blade, made a sound 
the air was country 
wild strawberries sweet 
like lazy cats we lay for hours 
In the filthy hot, in the no time afternoons 
sometimes on the highway to anywhere 
I had never been, now I was 
away from home, but home 
In a holiday dusk 
I remember watching mosquitos dance 
we hid in quiet as the sun went to sleep
while children ran through the tall trees 
like tiny beasts searching for their capture 
there was so much laughter inside my heart 
a new smile I learned to grow 
pure place full of running and joy 
town between the seconds 
I’ll be back again someday