In these poems about love, life and human conflict, the world is seen from the Inside Out. We are mortal beads, acting on the strings of time. In moments of epiphany, all becomes transparent. Dublin’s likeable whores, swap wisdom’s with old philosophers, while poems about the Cold War, Gaza, CND and life question our spirituality with whispers from Shamen and the Sacred Feminine. Heroes, like JFK, Martin Luther King, Lenin and Che, meet death too soon and find their truths have been betrayed by a society which is now too compounded and complex, but they left us seeds of hope to use, if we don’t destroy their infant shoots. The Love poems here, are always romantic and real and sometimes erotic and mystical.They hold everything together with their gentle glueing of emotions. Each thought becomes a grain of sand, that joins its brothers and sisters on the beach, so the whole, makes us what we are, while the tides of time, take us where we are going..Strider.
©Strider Marcus Jones
Published by strider marcus jones
Strider Marcus Jones – is a poet, law graduate and ex civil servant from Salford/Hinckley, England with proud Celtic roots in Ireland and Wales. A member of The Poetry Society, his five published books of poetry are modern, traditional, mythical, sometimes erotic, surreal and metaphysical http//www.lulu.com/spotlight/stridermarcusjones1. He is a maverick, moving between forests, mountains and cities, playing his saxophone and clarinet in warm solitude.
His poetry has been published in the USA, Canada, England, Ireland, Wales, France, Spain and Switzerland in numerous publications including mgv2 Publishing Anthology:And Agamemnon Dead; Deep Water Literary Journal; The Huffington Post USA; The Stray Branch Literary Magazine; Crack The Spine Literary Magazine; A New Ulster/Anu; Outburst Poetry Magazine; The Galway Review; The Honest Ulsterman Magazine; The Lonely Crowd Magazine; Section8Magazine; Danse Macabre Literary Magazine; The Lampeter Review; Ygdrasil, A Journal of the Poetic Arts; Don't Be Afraid: Anthology To Seamus Heaney.
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/stridermarcusjones1 .
http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=Strider%20Marcus%20Jones&search-alias=books-uk
My poetry blogs are:
https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/
http://poetrybystridermarcusjones.blogspot.co.uk/
Location: Paris, France
For his published poetry books: Aspects Of Love; Inside Out; Mavericks; Wooded Windows and Pomegranate Flesh see:
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/strider...
http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_s...
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_...
Read poems from his books with reviews and comments on http://www.wattpad.com/user/striderma.
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His poetry blogs are:
http://http://poetrybystridermarcusjo...
http://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordp...
Join him on Facebook
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Read this brilliant review of one of the poems from WOOODED WINDOWS
http://dagdapublishing.co.uk/2014/09/...
And so you sit and stay
since you’ve been coming
to the running
of my day,
the in between
of real and dream
is drawn in what we say
now i lie sunning
in the summer of your way.
it shapes the shade around me,
foundations where you found me,
emptying that grey
obelisk of thought stood in the room
no more scarring the bloom–
and so, you sit and stay
motions mending me,
feet turning wheel, hands shaping clay.
© Strider Marcus Jones
****
Today’s featured poem comes from Strider Marcus Jones. A piece wrought with intricate symbolism, “And So You Sit And Stay” deals with an ambiguous love and the capacity understanding and companionship have for healing, both mentally and physically. The seasons and their corresponding wildlife are utilised in a continuous metaphor throughout the poem, to the extent that much like the dissolved barrier “in between [the] real and dream” the repaired flower that is “no more scarring the bloom-” can be interpreted as the narrator’s internal soul and mended emotions, a viewpoint that is given further depth by the narrator’s “sunning in the summer of your way” an abstract, though beatific gratitude to the unnamed subject’s kindness.
Much of the imagery in this piece is organic and wild, except that which deals with the narrator’s situation before the unnamed subject came upon them: “emptying that grey obelisk of thought stood in the room” Again there is a wilful combination of the physical and mental planes, though here it is used to demonstrate the bleakness of the narrator’s lonely plight — an impersonal, towering civic construct that f (less)
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Comments and feedback welcome folks!..Strider
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