Poems
The Dragon
He does not dwell beneath the skyIn a distant land or astral plane. No smoke to sight or bursts of flame Its greed and wrath and prideHad nested deep and dark insideProjecting terror from afarAs monsters and madness makes its wont Its victim has no blade or bowNo hero’s blood or fable to showNor is…
Battle Born
In water, a bed or home they lieAs far can be from mortal restDeath will be faced hereThe flesh exposedStill but not silentAndFor in this womb aIn opening heart and bodyWith the web of medical and mettleIn theHer love and fight for the battle bornWill end with the shine of her skinAnd the beauty of…
Achievement
In the standsIn the groundsAt Three AM or Nine PMHot from the feet that walk across themIn windswept lightOr black of nightFor the crowdsAnd the challengeTo fly from the shotAnd break the leash. By J.W.H. Hobbs
The Fall of Finrod’s Song
Where sand and seas are swept Warmth dies And shade lies The quiet before the swell The rise of his voice Ensnared in one’s own trap Treachery the blood deep ruin of noble and land. This poem was inspired by J.R.R Tolkien’s Silmarillion, and Clamavi ‘De Profundis’s choir adaptation of his song. The video itself…
Small Victories
Alike in thought and formThey are all alike and the sameWrought well, and forward. Make struggle serve youMake pain your consortSuccess tomorrow’s childPut in an hour And come what mayStruggle tills soilFor another day.Half of heroicsHas roots in willingAnd actual action. By J.W.H. Hobbs.
Spring Affirmation
One way forwardClear and coldLike the light flakesSpiralling drops of snowShutting out the spring sunBuilding a bed of challengeFor the new plan tomorrowAny schemePlace to go, number of setsSeems sweetest at the conceptionBut bears no fruitUntil you’ve tilled the groundScraped and watered it at nightNo sunset vistaOr vast mountain heightWas ever scaled in onePrepare yourself…
Our Virtues and Vices
Any fairness or foulHabit or exerciseDone from your willAny spirit of fairness you holdYour ownHold it in your handsSculpt it and throw itRegardless, what it isDo what you wantAnd don’t give a damnWhat she or we or weSay or spread or sneakAnd do what you wantWhat you canIn playing and partyingBreaking the books or making…
Awakening
To see the world differentlyIsn’t like a photographEverything changesAnd nothingChop woodBefore and afterEnlightenmentOur muscles changeThe surety in our bodiesMildness of speechAnd that hidden senseThat drinks in dataAnd feels the brush of water in our mind. Like a swan and its sickly nestWhy does it go there?Seek shelter and associateThat is what I amThe sicknessThe oil…
Miura Music
What GodsAnd Souls there areIn quiet contemplation No restA pace turned tohorror from beautyand frigid desire once more Humanity warswith its own restThe instant and the infinite. A poem written listening to ‘Guts’, a song from the 1989 Berserk series. Dedicated to the creators, and the hauntingly beautiful work of Kentaro Miura. By J.W.H Hobbs
The Artist
Airless Mouth pulled Down And I would be Unable to Say Speak And hardly with words Will never articulate The rawness of honesty Such as No distant figure Paint or other picture Has made me Experience A nearness The Artist Has given. By J.W.H. Hobbs.
Combe Down
A beautiful painting Then and now to recall Without context But no amount of bitterness dries the colour No sound can sap the shade And set in my head That image of coming home to love In a sun drenched and light soaked city The warmth from windowpanes Sheen of the western sun Marble stones…
The Few
General faithlessness The casual or swaying nature of those reluctant to join eager to believe the worst and dismiss the best the rest the majority of men and women count for little because the great loyalty of those Few, true friends unbending Stolid workers faithful and unmoving There may be a handful in one lifetime…
Written off the cuff, for Someone
You remind me of the sunrise Rose, flesh and warm shades Coming to cold night And the sight Thrilling and expectant Newness and for one Hopeful and unsatisfied I wonder which dawn you bring Is part of lights and days I’ve dreamed. Never forget; for every bit of glass you step on there is a…
You are the Hand
Stop feeding The people Who insult you While you pay for their service By J.W.H Hobbs. I got the idea from a Chris Eubanks interview, and found it very inspiring. If you care to be part of the hand for us, we would be honoured.
‘Methinks the reaper hunches’
Methinks the reaper hunchesBowed over and leanFor who knows more of what they loveThan the breaker, the forger, the washer clean? By J.W.H. Hobbs
While Reading Wordsworth
Traveling through all the nightA path before indigo valleysOf mind, memory and the soulAnd in this writer’s wordsI feel kinshipAnd the unspooled travelsLike my own. Sweet sadnessAnd sense in the senseless realm of deathMy hope, the prints of a former manWho calls to me in the dark woods. Alike in speech and mindAnd it would…
They Scream Their Song
Long dust ingenuesFigment languagesPromises of whatMay be with sacrificeAll scream their songIn my earsAll pre-dawnAnd ink-night long Their callTo where I’ve yet to goPulls me where I roamRemembered smilesUntired and unwilling toNot tryEvery errant complimentEvery sting of skinCramp, nosebleedAnxious hidden momentsNo one but mirrors see For the able livingAnd the grandiose goneSing their songAnd I…
Old and Grey
That is a lifeOld and greyWith those we loveWhether we call it thatShownIn how they liveFor were we ever aliveIfWhen set to dieIt was not all for them? Old and greyWan and paleNear deathBloody and stayedLet colour and tearsWith life and timeBe given to them Old and greyIn deathOne’s heart never ends. By J.W.H. Hobbs.
Inspired by Pen and Watercolour at Work
When we cannot nameDo not writeOr know A new songPlayed by one we likeAs with moonlight guidancePoor on phonesBut undying in my mind So much sweeter to the memoryIneffably different is what luckPlaces in our handsSweetened in our headsTreasured in eternity By J.W.H. Hobbs. I wrote this at lunch, and the inspiration came clearly seeing…
Pretty Pointers
When the look of someone Makes you consider your ugliness Vow to be beautiful And put old flames in your blood Every Adonis is an opportunity for us. By J.W.H. Hobbs
Solitary Labour
Three desks Three minds By deeds alone are we known. The knowing is one thing And walking the path A more terrible, yet more ethereal reality To go inwards is to ascend In layers difficult to see Only perceive when they are over In the social language spread by words Image and sound, intent and…
The Gate
If you know you die here Or don’t Why not give it everything Against all comers When the deed is done All actions written At the line and boundary Let them come As ink for your glory. Every day there’s breathing, there’s great things being done. Not a day goes by where there’s not new…
Bone
Every soul carries a skeletonWaiting to restBut where? Every bone can be polishedTapped, set, or scratchedBut why? Every life has its goodAnd bad, and what we live forBut when? We move the bonesWe wake and restAll these; only ourselves can answer. By J.W.H. Hobbs If you wouldn’t mind, consider a donation.
Easier, or Better?
Much easier to call yourself a God In these times Than aspire to be Good. Much simpler to say things are not simple And chant the inevitable doom of man Than smile and make way for your neighbour. Much sweeter to be rich and sick and surrender Than know past…
Weather Lessons
The warmth and splendour of wind and lighting can be appreciated from the window like the happy neighbour sitting out in summer sun or my skin shaken in morning air has layers of appreciation eyes and touch feeding our senses weather waking awareness I hope the weather’s lovely outside for you. J.W.H Hobbs
The Boss Dog
Thin black dogNot like the littleBrown and whiteLiving his last today Down streets already a memoryStrangers bereft of the appellationScenes set in a score of daysStill walking under greyCobblestones, pavement and sky Composed somehowMan’s best friendCertainly mine will die todayAnd my words mark itAs much as the tears in his fur Cradling himNow holding phone…
Black Dog at Night
Thunk thunk thunkA spot of black in the gloomRustle of movement at night But I smile and snortCalling outFor the little Dachshund dogSnuck in at night Nothing to fearFor what simplerElusive and pleasant pleasure Than the flow state ofUnderstanding somethingKnowing there is no need to be afraidAnd a simple connection with other animals? All the…
Group Grinning and Social Smiling
The bitten in grinLike something sourCannot cease smiling Nor would I want toToothy, lipped or sarcastic smilesThe openness of people happening On some interesting pretextIt can be black painted stoneGrey then sunny turn of tide Give people five daysYou will see two dozen soulsConduct, construct, control With admirable humourSo readily willing to get alongEven strangers…
Constructive Possibilities
ProwessLike conversationIs neverAnd will never beWords alone No theoryHalf-shrouded superiorityOf the introvert scholarThe youth confusedAnd seeking better than what they areSubstitutes what can be To be is to liveAnd ‘living’ is not mere sentienceThere is no teamworkNo growthOr one satisfying achievementWithout the advantage of disadvantage How willing are you to admitFear of facing othersShare that…
Progress
Lacquered paintLayer upon layerBrick dust and grey cement powderSmall bumps, for one hundred crampsHuman form shaping stoneBreaking and mixingCarbon and waterAlloying and refiningItselfAnd in so doingHumanity builds housesBetter bodiesPainting made alone for beautyAs talismans alongside other artEvident and heavy upon the world. By J.W.H Hobbs
What Holds Sway
The Father of SoulsThe Lady of HeartsAnd the Temple of the WorldLay claim upon us But only in the words we writeA few of the torrents we sayMost of all, what people see without understandingReflect our allegiances or love in life. Whatever you do today; good luck.J.W.H.Hobbs
Sir Dinadan, Percival and Gwain
No knight shines.Smoke, steel, and saltAshen earth and littered linesHour to hour, and only time to time The knight restsAnd such a moment merely testsResolve undauntingTasks impossible Yet to wrestAny justice from this worldAnd mouth but a single courtesyReduce any shade from haunting One of the table supportingShedding blood in worthinessService, or loveAlone, not slaved…
Grown Back Garden
The sound of running rainSet tufts of gold and greenUnruly as my own hairAnd beckoningTo be mowed and tidiedConsistentlyLike the other chores and challengesTo elevate my life. Nothing waitsThe sigh of falling waterShoots of grass and root and weedOnly the mind makes tangles and hasslesWhen we do not face themAnd learn from simple things Cycle…
The Cut
Abrupt It severs Indecision Forever hated And yet it Pulls and calls Those who conceive What it is to do What is hard and the end Made by decision Creation and destruction Reason and action To split what is From what could be Release a creation End a misfortune Affect a reputation Survive an invasion…
Meditations of Our Mistakes
A man can change from what he is judged to bethe mixture of his own failings and enemy rumour. In the sun of our resolutionsSkin prickled by our mistakes Over months and years of stumblingWe wake to see what struggles made us become. A poem written while reading Musashi, by Eiji Yoshikawa.J.W.H Hobbs.
The Unforgotten
A pregnant spaceAn empty chairAll the signsOf what lay there No scent in the airNor presence of heatSave in the mindAnd memories Where it is brightFair as the sunWhat was, and loveBecome as one A fallen friendOr lover’s hairSighted or notIn the mind Just Right there. By J.W.H Hobbs
Unrequited
Rather than the missingThe disdainful or unwantingConsider those who respectDesire and admire youUnseen or you forgot. By J.W.H Hobbs Interesting in supporting us? Consider being a patron of ours.
The Hunt
Chest tightHot on the heelsOf the prize Elusive and unguardedLeaving only tracksBroken leaves or marked trees The scent and sight of a dreamAs much a sightFrom the hunter’s belly The nose for achievementBridging the distanceOf it in sight And caughtTo savour and holdAnd make us whole. By J.W.H Hobbs Hope you’re having a good week,…
The Stage
Where lights blind the sightsAnd the stage is afireIt’s time to speak and shout and sendYourself across to them. You can’t see or followThe chairs, screams or sorrowsOf the many gathered throngAll watching one speech, dance or song And your art and heart’s caught in the throat. Only your gut and pregnant pauseRecite not write…
Chains
To see your bindingsAsk who knows youBest of all; yourself Take a seat and thinkName, and writeIn the privacy of your room What could beWhere you failAnd see that every day Every actionCan weaken and strain those linksOr add to them Yet our natural stateAnd inner destiny Is with effort and many roadsTending to those…
Who to Fight
Test your selfBeat at the wallsAttack your own mindInstead of another’s Chewing your sicknessEnding your own spiteRather than takingEasily for pleasureAt the risk of someone else Be judgementalHarsh in temperamentDemanding to your own soulTo shatter the real enemyYour own sickness and follyInside And never be beatenBy the shadow and greedMistakes and things half-saidFlensed and forged…
Butterfly Landing On Flower
Not for a lensIt flits away quicklyTo prove a pointThe beauty isHers and mine aloneTo see, if not to read. Look at the beauty with the best two cameras you own.J.W.H Hobbs
A Single Magpie
It skirts past the sky with the wind in my eyes;And habit and count makes me scanBut its brother or lover are not to be found;Just a glide of the wings headed earthbound. No thought of sorrow when it skirts past the graves;Unruffled at the low trees and gullsIt skates, raking skies then scratching tiles;And…
Assessment
Sick of the sight of itSo many jagged red linesOr unchanging blueThe spaces, line and font So many trimmings to force the count Hour upon hourDoubt upon doubtThe raw frustration Only a little thingLike a tiny tongue ulcerOr a sliver of glass can give you It’s a vein of magmaThat roils both waysToo much timeAnd…
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