Poems – Reconstructing Humpty

panoramaReconstructing Humpty -Paddy – A Journey in Poetry

1988 to 2005

humpty dumpty poems june 2013   this is a link to a pdf file that you can save or print.

Permission given to reproduce in public domain, providing authorship acknowledged.

Morning Star

The night was bloody
felt like an axe
driven through my heart.
prayed – cried,
in the morning
saw a star


I would like;
you to hold me
touch my heart
and calm its fears.


living In the light
is a healing gift to me
and bathes others in its glow
living in darkness
dulls my glow
and sucks light from the world.
The choice for light
is mine, no one else’s.
It is the warrior’s path
Each new step leading
To a new place
Where the next step
is shown.
Life as a journey.


Just gold,
digging and polishing
a lifetime’s work

On The Stringy Bark Schooner

At the helm of the Stringy Bark schooner
on the Wombat Hollow sea.
Clouds become the focus of fantasies and dreams.

As the wind moves and shapes them,
What will I see, where will I be?
How far is the cloudless sky?

Old Friend

Pain, you visit
old friend
Join me awhile
What treasures
do you bring?

this wish
to belong, enmesh
– denied
is a gift then?

let it be
just lovers then
share the moment
and be content


live in the positive world or the negative one
be in the land of light or darkness
belong to the land of loving or the land of taking
be in the land of anger or the land of peace
live in the present or dwell in the past – future
be victim or stand alone
live in harmony or discord
be connected, or isolated and unsupported
be generous or miserly
seek power and control or just, humbly be
embrace life or live in fear
embrace death or fear it
live with our pain or run from it
cling, or, let go
be aware of ourselves and our world, or unaware
smile or not


Leaf falls,
wind travels,
comes again.


The subtle,
and not so subtle.
The coarse, and fine.
Rise and fall,
Rise and fall.
Pendulum swings,
moving slowly,
to stillness,
waiting patiently,
humbly human.


Images shift and tumble.
Thoughts wander.
Feelings shift,
level on level.

Baby vulnerable,
Yet powerful,
born once more,
learn anew,
die again,
come again,
cycle on.

Oh Painter

Draw for me
the house of cards.
The Rise and Fall of Who?

The Script

I am given the script
by whom?

Is there some great
casting director?
Who sees my summation,
my cage.

Bars of hurts, pains,
rejections, defences,
joys, laughter and
what passes as insight.

Is he malevolent?
Does he cast me,
like a fox trapped
in a cage,
to enjoy my head banging?

Is he benevolent?
The great healer,
whose every casting
has the seed,
the blade,
containing the choice,
to cut and,
move the bars,
ever outwards.

Will I rise to the challenge,
in this script given,
for my part, in

“The Rise and Fall of Who”?


If I could choose
my spectacles,
would I choose,
to see the world
through the eyes
of a child?


I once knew a warrior,
who mastered the art
of killing,
in a splendid way.

Weapons of rejection
Requiring protective armour
During childhood wars
Fought on loveless terrain

An old man now.
Dreaming of meaning,
in other dimensions,
spaceships coming,
to set him free,

while he contemplates

In Between

Share joy at birth
humility at death
dare we in between

Rocks of Silence

Tapping on my window?

The rocks of your silence,
Bring memories
shadows and ghosts,
of buried pasts
and unknown selves.

You pray and hope ,
they will go away.

Silent War

Shadows and ghosts,
ever present.
Misty whispering,
chipping and nagging.

Gargoyle miners work,
under the cover of darkness,
in the nooks and crannies,
of our soul.


Shadows and ghosts.
Dim forest terrorists,
taunting us to battle.
Sowing landmines,
exploding messengers
of pain,

They challenge again.
Run or turn and fight?


Pain and fear
untouchable icons,
shunned, covered,
buried, medicated
Not present,
in the roll call,
with laughter and joy.

Icon of control,
allowing generals,
to reign.

Yet, fire forged,
to sword,
cuts the chains,
allowing flight.


Somewhere else,
is happiness.
So I travel.

While Travelling

Look for those,
who smile.
And feel,


Another con.
Breasts and balls
are there,
for all.

Don’t fuck me,
I can fuck myself.
Touch and nurture,
you may.

Masked Ball

We paint, preen, adorn.
Find clever masks,
hide ourselves,
in life’s masked ball.

Was this a decree of the Gods?
‘Go forth and hide your self’
‘Be to thine own self, untrue’.
there are many true believers.

There are some heretics,
who are happy with who they are,
their dress is one of glass,
showing the bile, shit, loves, lusts,
tears, joys, fears.
Not invited to –
the masked ball.

Painting Apples

Paint the apple red
Ripens it?
Wearing monastic robes
Creates enlightenment?

Love’s lens

Loves eyes, paint your beauty
Pearl glow, in the soft morning light
Etched in memory
A private collection.

Dark Light Night

Thoughts of life sorted
over cliff.
Chaos, free falling
all challenged,
pain pushing further
in dark nooks and crannies
demon eyes glowing.

Sleepless night
empty, no meaning
no purpose.
life, a momentary flash.
Self – meaning?
no form to the formless

Meet with darkness and despair
or understanding
just the here and now
met with love and kindness
a way of peace.

Reflections on intimacy

Within intimacy
Is flowering

Watering and caressing
feeding and nurturing
seeing and hearing
creates flowering

Shedding armor
Opening to love
Being vulnerable and still
Moving with fear
Acting in kindness
Remembering to smile
Seeing beauty
Is courageous

There is only now
met with love
and courage

Kuan Yin

I am inside, looking out.
Wondrous visions warm my heart.
Like clouds they shift and move,
out of reach.
Can I be with them?

Invisible bars hold me.
I yearn to be free,
and pray for someone to hear my call.
A cloud whispers softly,
‘My name is Kuan Yin, talk to me’.
‘What should I do?’

‘Turn and be calm’.
I am frightened,
The demons live in the darkness behind me.
I cry, I am frightened to turn.
‘Please help me?’

A softness gently enfolds and turns
The eyes of the demons glow in the dark
‘I am frightened.’
The softness whispers:
‘have courage they are not real,
just creations of your fear,
look through them beyond them’
I see a light calling me.
I walk towards the demons.
‘I am frightened.’
The softness holds me.

I move, demon eyes fade.
The light becomes an opening.
The softness urges me on.
I am outside on a cliff,
overlooking the valley of life.
The softness is all around me
It lifts my arms.

Kuan Yin above.
Rays of grace flow from her heart.
They caress and fill me.
I feel strong and whole.
My vision clouds settle around me,
family, friends, soul mate
I walk among them and hear,
whispers of love and kindness.
Each calls and holds me.
Saying you are loved, pure, strong and free,
let grace guide your new journey.
I feel at peace.
At home.

Sacred Dance

Soft radiance.
pulsing rhythm
heart opens
love energy gently sways
holding us in its glow

humming soul
sings to universe
floats in mystery and wonder
sailing to otherness, beyond
caresses with mist

Sweet flesh calls
soft touch – kisses
weaving and moving
juices and perfume

Flowing, joining
sacred dance
Melting in ecstasy
sailing all realms

Open – raw
fragile and vulnerable
dancing in fire
warriors of the heart

Paddy July 2000
Reconstructing Humpty – Paddy – A Journey in Poetry  1988-2005

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