Barbados

This poem was written by Annie Parmeter on 1st May 2003, when on holiday in Barbados.

Barbados
 
Powder blue and mellow honey
Framed by clouds of whitewashed grey
Fathom the intensity of space.
A silken gauze of lilac
Calms the restless ocean.
Fragile frills of bubbles
Tease the coral strand.
Overhead the sundown chorus starts,
Raucous hiss and wheeze
Piped solitary notes
Break over the twilight
Into a mellifluous cascade.
Bats erupt from dreadlock palms
To begin their nightly vigil,
Tiny black bursts of energy
In a galaxy of wedgewood and starlight.

This Precious Life

Written in 2003 by Annie Parmeter, this poem sums up her philosophy of life, and she knew only too well with her heart condition, just how precious each day was....

This Precious Life

Every day we shape our world with our words,
Over and over again reassuring ourselves how it is.
Let death be our guide and hear it whisper
'Time is short, let go and see the world as it really is,
a place of true wonder and untold possibilities'.
So without judgement, without preconception,
All senses fully awake,
Let us step carefully and consciously
Into every new moment afresh
As if it were our first and last day
On this earth.

Ever Thus

For Valentine's Day, a poem from my late partner, Annie Parmeter, on words, deeds and acts of love; it is very much a reflection of how she aspired (and often managed) to live.

Ever Thus
 
Let every little word
Bring warmth and encouragement
And remind us of our goodness.
Be mindful of your words
They can change the life of another.
 
Let every little deed
Bring support and delight
And speak in the name of justice.
Be mindful of your deeds
For they have the power to change history.
 
Let every little thought
Bring words of love
And acts of kindness.
Be mindful of your thoughts
For theirs is a power beyond measure.
 
20/11/03
 
Published in "In This Life", United Press Poetry Anthology, 2004

Time's Choice

This was written by Annie Parmeter in 2003.
Now her ashes are down by a lily pond, and she is forever young.

A suitable poem for an end of an old year, and the start of one that, for her, will be forever new.


MA.15. 04/01/03
 
 
TIME'S CHOICE
 
On a quietly respectable corner of a quietly respectable street
The old house stood, its darkly staring windows
Tightly shaded against the light
Vacantly and vicariously
Watching the world pass by
How long had it relentlessly stood here
How long had the sun relentlessly baked its peeling walls?
A tortoiseshell cat stretched languorously upon the verandah.
 
Like generations before her she kept a tidy house
Polishing her keepsakes, cherishing her memories
Every day, every day, in the same old way
Keeping the legacy alive.
Finding herself in the faces on the mantelpiece
Cold-eyed and tyrannical
Unfeeling dispassionate ghosts.
Long fingers kept a tight grip on her soul.
 
But who was she, where did she belong
How long could she be sustained
By subtly shifting memories?
Day after day reciting the inventory
Building her world all over again
Desperately hoping it would turn out the same
Trapped like an ant in amber
In a tomb of her own construction.
 
Deep in her heart a quietly insistent voice called,
'Oh cease to lament for what could have been!
To what place have your memories brought you?
Without knowing you have changed them
To suit your own view of your life
And thus you have rendered them void,
Seeking to protect yourself from time
How old you have become.'
 
'Discard your routines, your inventories and history
False props against uncertainty
They serve only to burden you with their care
Rendering you vulnerable to their loss
Alone to wallow in rose-tinted grief.
By looking back you have hoped to avoid
The terror in the face of the unknown
And the challenge that lies in becoming.'
                                                                                                                 
Deep in my heart a quietly insistent voice calls,
'Leave with me now, come into the day
Leave this house, its history, its legacy.'
Today its darkly hopeless eyes
Will look jealously upon me
How easily will it give me up?
One part of its structure removed
How long will it take to fall?
 
Out through the garden and down to the river
I shall bathe in the waters of life.
Only once to look back with a smile
And witness the memories dissolving
In an eddy of feelings and voices
The dust of dry bones scattering on the wind.
No longer held in my care
They dissipate into nothingness.
 
Now the sun shines on a new day
Lilies grace the riverbank with their perfume
I smell each flower as if it were the first
The fingers of a fresh breeze caress my cheek
Skylarks sing in the bright shining meadows
All this so familiar
And yet never seen before
For at last, truly I am young.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

This is a poem of Annie's that I've just been given a copy of. It is an extraordinary and beautiful poem, and has really brightened my weekend up!

 

ALL THAT REMAINS

 

Until all that remains is the breath

as it ebbs and flows on the tide of consciousness.

Dreams and thoughts pass and go

until all that remains is the stillness.

 

A minute passes, an aeon passes.

 

I feel every cell in my body,

each one is familiar and present.

My roots are grounded in the russet earth,

and I know what it means to belong.

 

Betwixt the roots lies the nest of twin serpents

I feel them beginning to stir,

Slowly awakening from their long sleep.

Little by little they raise up their heads,

and tentatively initiate their timeless courtly dance.

Winding and twining round the column of my spine

in perfectly mirrored movements,

writhing upwards in the haze of a ruby.

 

Higher and higher they rise

sharing intimacy

in the light of a sweet amber moon.

I know how to share with another.

 

Onward and upward, curling and twirling

and into the light of the sun.

Into the fire that burns in the City of  Jewels,

fanned by the breath of forever.

I know what it is to have will.

 

Slither and slide in the grass of the garden

where compassion springs flowers on every tree,

where emeralds shine in the heart of forgiveness.

I know what it is to have mercy.

 

Ride on the thermals, and soar with the condor,

high above the peaks of Volcan.

Glide……. into azure……………..

purified, rarified, sanctified,

my voice gives meaning to chaos

 

Across the last bridge and the serpents

lie quiet in the Wheel of Becoming.

Amethyst mist is lifted

and my eyes raise the Veil of Illusion.

I see how to know without thinking.

 

Smooth in the groove into violet velvet

a lotus grows forth from my crown,

a thousand petals open into glory

and the sun meets the moon in fulfilment.

The might of their union

sears through each layer of my being

until I am one with creation

and shine like the birth of a star.

All at once I am all that I have been

and all that I am yet to become

This mortal shell is shattered

and scatters its atoms across space,

blasted by the force of the sublime,

it reaches the place in the universe

where the end and the beginning are one.

 

All that remains is peace,

and I find eternity

in a moment.

 

 

Ramadan

This is another of Annie's poems, written during a holiday in Egypt in 2002.
 
Ramadan
 
The end of yet another blessed day
Sun descending behind purple hills
The heat and dust of the day
Ascend to heaven in a palpable rosy haze.
Swifts and swallows rise and fall
Swooping low out over the river,
Dark against the sky
The fringed heads of palms chatter with birdsong
And somewhere, the Imam begins the call for sunset.
 
 
Egypt nov/02

In Place of Fear

This is a poem written by Annie.

In Place of Fear

Here now at last it's time to let go
Releasing your hold of all that you knew
Surrender to time
Your terror and distress
You're finally free to live and to love.

A lifetime of striving, a struggle in vain
Abandon all thoughts of rule and control
The memories have fallen

Like leaves from the trees
Died and forgotten, they hold you no more.

So here now I see you as never before
Serene and transformed your heart filled with love
No heed for the future
No mind to the past
Safe and secure now, in the moment at last.


Jy 11/03/07 (c) A Parmeter, 2007