Our mind is like a field
Receiving many seeds

They can become  delicious fruit
Bitter fruit
Or troublesome weeds

The luck of a lottery
Sometimes surprises

Or good fortune may come
In other disguises

Only later do we see
With clarity
The truth of many
An unfolding
Seedling mystery

In our mind
Are planted
Many seeds

Out of sight

Sean Hunt  
Feb 26th 2015

I Think Nobody Knows
When I plan and scheme
And Nobody Knows
When I'm feeling mean

There's no one who can see
Inside my mind
So I think I'm all alone
And everything's fine

Like a spy in a foreign land
Everything is underhand
I'm buried behind the lines
Inside the bunker of my mind

But there is someone who knows
There's someone who can see
How can I be so silly?
That somebody is me

Sean Hunt   July 2015

We are all in a line
walking along a precipice
treading carefully one by one
under the warm rays of the sun

A whisper rises above us
floating in the air
as many murmer
"It simply isn't fair"

We all wish for wings
wanting to escape
from incidental tyranny
the folly of our fate

When the moon becomes the queen
reigning in the skies
all fall on one knee
lowering frightened eyes

We fear the wrath
of someone else's view
a judgement that could hurl us down
'The dropping of a shoe'

The home of his skull is in Rome
His blood's in a vial in Dublin
It's the day of this lover's last breath
the day of his date with death

Love is the name of his game
They play it all over the world
Everyone knows his name
every single boy and girl

I will wear her name on my sleeve
She'll receive all my attention
I'll tell her I'll never leave
We'll keep this love convention

Why am I afraid to die
I wonder why
Do I really like it here
Living in the land
Of never-ending fear

Do I see beauty
Staring back at me
When I look into
The mirror of reality

Do I like
Roasting in the fiery
Pit of
Incessant desire

If I am afraid to die
Because I know
There are more horrid places
I could go
Then this would be
A valid reason
To explain
My fear of dying

Sean Hunt      Sept 15 2016

Who? can't get it right, day or night
Who is black who is white
Who is never wrong and always right
Who is it only likes to play
But suffers every night and day
Who is it, thinks that they were born
Who is it feeds their unicorn

Not you, not me
Must be somebody
It's someone that we only find
Looking deep inside a mind
The room inside no one has seen
With a global IMAX screen
The little person in the chair
Sits and stares at light and air
He doesn't understand the 'deal'
He thinks his world is really real

There are no windows to his world
He's every boy, he's every girl
There is no night, there is no day
There is nowhere outside to play

He simply needs to close his eyes
And watch the screen inside his mind
Where he can choose to see
A movie called
....'Perpetual Tranquility'

Sean Hunt

I’m running about day and night
Grasping at ghosts in the shadow show

There's no light on the wall where they appear
So the heart skips a beat with fear

There's no one to see, nowhere to go
There's no one to be, there's nobody home

In the ephemeral world of boys and girls
dancing and prancing with banners unfurled

Fiesta of folly, increasing crescendo
A pretension of jolly until the end


Sean Hunt  June 2017

Took a trip yesterday, destination over there
Settled down some where, between here  and there
The place was unfamiliar, and my mind couldn't grasp
The difference between, this this and that that
Nothing is solid every thing is slow
There’s nothing to do and there’s nowhere to go
When apprehension set in, at the very start
I took a look at him, and set anchor in his heart
I watched the show unfold, somewhere behind my eyes
I met someone named Lucy, who  lives in the sky”
I knew I was responsible, for everything I saw
from the liquid walls, to the winding halls
Though I wasn't tired, I laid myself down
thinking about everyone, who wasn't around
I bounced like a ball, through the memories
skipping days and weeks, and months and years
I landed now and then, as if magnetised
by moments in the past, where I’d sigh or cry

She’s been here, she’s been there
Seems she’s been everywhere
Never early, always late
she rides the winds of fate

She met a man named Carlos
he took her for a ride
ever since he came and went
she’s been by my side

She loves me and she hates me
just like day and night
one depends on the other
and everything’s alright

I am a man like Carlos
and all the other guys
so sometimes I must pay
a price for my prize

May we all burst like bubbles
And begin to share the air
Bubbles don't last forever
One day we'll all be free
How can it be when I look for me
There's no one to see
How can it be, when I look for me
There's no one to see, how can it be

If I look in here, or I look out there
I can't find me, anywhere
My head's not me, my leg's not me
Where can I be?
My brain is not, the me that I see
Where can I be

I see me all the time it seems
During night-time dreams
And when the sun is shining
How can it be, when I look for me
There's no one to see, how can it be

Subtle mind swimming 'round
A dream-like sea of reality
I need to know that every thing
Including me, is illusory

Sean Hunt  
2015  Windermere

If you are a puzzle
Missing a piece
And wine
Makes the world
A fine place
Check to see
That the pool
Is not empty
Before you do
A swan dive

The light is clear
Your eyes and ears
Don't see or hear a thing

Your mind will know
No where to go
No thing you have to bring

Now the funeral of youth
You focus on the truth
Of every single thing

No more roll, no more rock
Leave the starting block
This song you now must sing

Sean Hunt
Windermere 2015, November

When they sent up flares
into the air
the light was too bright
for those on the ground

Instead of running for shelter
from the whistling bombs
we could only freeze like trees
in the dirt we were standing on

Theirs was a sure-fire
strategy
We were seen
then blown to smitherenes

Either an ocean
Or a wave, you will be

When someone’s pain just stays
it just won’t go away
and everyone is waiting
with baited breath
for the coming of the dawn of
the day of death

Technicians with machines
fill the blood with morphine
So they can **** the pain
for the people by the bed
and the one who’s nearly dead

In silence now remembering
all of the bad and the glad
many years and months
many days and minutes
all falling through
one funnel

I never saw a sadder scene
where laughter was against the law
small ranges of expressions
funneled through a narrow place
of few permitted faces


Sean Hunt Jan 16 2017

When our daydreams are all Lucid
The psychosis will be loosened
We will walk through all the walls
Our world will be translucent

We could count the atoms if we wished
In all the galaxies
And sail or surf every wave
In seven million seas

March 2017

I Am The Book

I am the book, that you read, in the afternoon
By the light of the day,  
Or at night by the light of a bright moon.

If you close your eyes,  I will steal away
But I will return, when you open them, again.

You hold me in your hands,  so you know me very well
You read me every day, and you have a tale to tell

I ask you where am I, when your eyes are open wide
You show me, but what about when your eyes are shut tight?

The book you see, is it the cover, hard-bound or soft?
You will tell me, no, no, definitely not!

I ask you then, am I page one? You say that I am not,
You say the same about the others, to the last page that you bought

We agree, you and me, that I am not a page
I sing Hallelujah!, Oh happy happy day!

You may say I'm a collection, of things that are not me
You must contemplate, and meditate on this impossibility!

I come from your imagination

I'm your creation,  “wonderful” !  (If I may say),
But on the day of your enlightenment, I will stay away.
Along with every 'thing', that you see, today

Sean
2015 in Windermere

How many dreams have I dreamed
Of other worlds, and other wives
Of other laughs and other cries
Of others' terrifying screams?
How many men did I meet
Over there, where I had
Visions sad and glad
And often flew with my feet?
Blessed imagination saves
From the mundane day
From the box that we live in
From our daytime graves.
Like a child at play
We are only dreaming.

Sean Hunt November 2015

One season would suit me fine
Steamy summer days and nights
Being warm all the time
One season would suit me fine

I prefer sun and sand
To winter wonderland
Slow spring tease isn't nice
Nor is slippery ice

Autumn often makes me
Moody and Melancholy
I know how much I'll miss those days
When summer was so sultry

Some brazen Brits
Drink their fill
And bare their *******
In the bitter winter chill

I hibernate at home
Most of the time
Where the finger on the
Temperature dial
Is mine

Sean Hunt  
2015 January Windermere

Nothing is new
Under the sun
Our realizations
Come one by one

Inside my smoke
You couldn't find me
In all of your mirrors
You could not be seen

You didn't find me
I didn't see you
We came to the same
Conclusions

I was looking for someone who just wasn't there
The truth is you couldn't be found anywhere
Smoke and mirrors. we play the same game
Though we both call it by different names

Nothing is new
Under the sun
Our realizations
Come one by one

The script that was written
Was perfect for you
Your acting was easy
Nothing was new

When the shooting was over
And the movie was done
You stopped playing the part
But kept wearing the gun

I was looking for someone who just wasn't there
The truth is you wouldn't be found anywhere
Smoke and mirrors. we play the same game
Though we both call it by different names

Nothing is new
Under the sun
Our realizations
Come one by one

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 20 2016

It seems to be her theme
a war against patriarchy
makes those men bleed
the ones that will not see

Apply a little pain
over here and over there
catching their attention
she has them in a stare

But she never blinks
until she’s heard and seen
until they open both their eyes
until they bend their knee

This is "The story of Me"
The person
You think that you see
Please
Try to find me
The person you think you see
Please, try to find me

Turn the world upside down
Look all around
The person you think you know
Who puts on a show
Slips through your hand
Like grains of sand
Like dust on the floor
Swept out the door
The ephemeral glow
Of an old rainbow
Some moments of sun
And all is undone

I was never here
Now let 'me' dis appear
I grasp at my self
Like beauty and wealth
As if they were real
As if they were true
I grasp at me
I grasp at you

I am only a name
I know this game
And every  thing
Is just the same
I know this game
I am only a name
And every thing
Is just the same
I know this game

Sean Hunt  
Windermere 2015

My Heart

My heart’s like steel
My heart’s like ice
It’s hard for me to feel
and to equalize  

There’s a view, I’ve been told
from your mountain too
Wish I knew what I’ll see
when I see like you  
  
I wonder what will happen to my world
when that other flag unfurls

I’m mining for metal,
there’s no doubt
I wonder what kind
I guess I’ll soon find out  

Will it be iron,
or will it be gold
when I dig deep down
where I’ve been told  

I wonder what will happen to my world
when that other flag unfurls
    
Can I cross the valley
if I’m blind
If I make that climb
what will I find  

I wonder what will happen to my world
when that other flag unfurls

Sean Hunt  April  2017

We wonder, me and you
We wonder why the sky is so blue
and why the weather’s never right
why everybody’s so uptight

Is love all we need, like the Beatles say
running around in a hard night’s day
In order for them to feel so free
they needed **** and LSD

Wisdom seems to be missing, to me
not knowing so many mysteries
With wisdom we can shine a light
and every ‘thing’ will be alright

Where was the call
that never came yesterday
Potentials were in place,
I was here you were there

Sometimes life insists
on something other than
the rituals and plans
of a woman and a man

Flying in cyber air
little bits of digital dust
bumping momentarily
into us

Catching up on our day
with not-so-necessary words
needing to be said
and needing to be heard 

One by one born into life
kernels popping in a heated pan
popped into the mouth 
of an  occasionally reverent fan 

An absence of  words  was  heard
as we drifted into an absence of light
I slept well 
How was your night

Dear Jane

We have heard
you like the words
of Mister Wordsworth
We thought you might like
to join us once a week
in the lounge
as we make up rhymes
about old times
talk in our chairs
about current affairs
and focus our eyes
on the horizon

Footless and unfree
We all found ourselves
singing out of tune
in a vacuum

Both blasphemed and blessed
but delighted by the quietness
we reached the end of plentiness
a place of neither fullness nor emptiness

drizzles down to the ground
sprinkles all around
manic energetic eagles and doves
sweating droplets from above

The seasons were green
thankfully
if it were wintry
we’d have climbed trees

Rats running from the race
carving out personal space
to be alone on their own
in ‘no go’ zones

Sean Hunt

It's a famous day, they say
And we  should be afraid
of knife crime in Rome
and closer to home

In the Indian Ocean
Watch out if it rains
Because you may never
Be seen again

On the Great Plains
The was so much snow
That hundreds died
They had nowhere to go

To escape from the wind
And from the cold
They never lived
Long enough to be old

The Tsar abdicated
On this day
The Bolsheviks began
To have their way

We need to take care
every lass and lad
It's not just in Rome
This day may be bad

And if Maggie is drinking
a coffee nearby
Watch out as the storm
Passes you by

Maybe poetry
Permits us some
Mastery
Of the wild
World of words

We can control
The chaos
The cacophony
Rein in our
Tendency
To
Absent-mindededly
Cantor
And rant

Control the flow
Make some sense
Of the non sense

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 21 2016

I can't believe it
though I don't know why
I can't believe it
and I won't even try
I can't believe it
it must be a lie
I can't believe it
when the sun won't  shine
I can't believe it
this plan wasn't mine
I can't believe it
'cause I don't have the time
I can't believe it
it just doesn't rhyme

Well the sun should know
that I had the day planned
And the wind should know
how important I am
I need the air still and warm and dry
otherwise I just won't get by

sean hunt  June 2017

The Mortal Man
In Troutbeck
Is beginning to be
A
Poet Factory

Face To Face  

when our love is aligned  
in that way
like the sun and the moon
there's no sway
each in their place
in stillness will stay      
when our love is aligned
in that way      

sweet love above
so slow below
two rivers join
into one flow
learning in love
ignited,  aglow
we never will say
'where did love go?'            

standing so still
face to face
we dance and we play
night and day
slowly we slide  
in  space
standing so still
face to face
standing so still
in embrace
standing so still
face to face        

Sean Hunt   Windermere 2015

Gone are the psychedelic colours
Of autumn's empty palette
The trees skinned
by the violent winds of
November
Bare to the bony branches
Braving the silence
of Mister Winter's
minimalist contentment
and the echos
of summer birdsong

Exits, Graceful, Ungraceful and Disgraceful

Death you dangerous guest
You definitely come
At a definitely unpredictable time
It is very rare for one
Who will depart with you
To have time
For small talk

The ambush man
Crouching down
Out of view
Suddenly surprises you,
Usually!

But sometimes there's time
For small talk
Or a walk hand in hand
Time to brace one's self

Sometimes holy men make a graceful exit
A warm embrace, an ironic smile,
A denial to beguile
The phantom ephemeral beast

Death, I know
You are mere illusion
It's up to me if I see you as real,
In my confusion

Sean Hunt
Windermere  May 2015

I dare not say
“I will not die today”
Nay
I know not when
I know not where
I know not why
This holy moment
Is for me
A hidden mystery
Inside a galaxy
Of potentialities
Preparing to pop
Like kernels of corn

I must tidy my house
Today


            Sean Hunt  Dec 2016 Windermere, UK

A Mortal Man
Will not live
Forever
In English Weather

The black bird’s beak
Seemed busy
This Christmas morning
Like a guillotine
Lifting life from the ground
Like a knife dropping down
From the sky
Sacrificing
Slicing
Slimy
Beings
Defining the last moment
On Earth
For a worm
Placing them in
The space between
Death and birth

Sean Hunt Christmas Day 2016

Seagulls outdone
by 'little ones'
clapping and slapping
screeching and crapping

Acting much bigger
than they are
crying and vying
to rule the roost

Cacophony clowns
competing with sound
running around
all over town

Attention grabbers
perched on pinnacles
looking down
on the others around

We can walk on water
We can walk on air
In dreams we walk
Everywhere

Life is lucid
Some of the time
But it doesn’t
Always rhyme

Let’s step out of the box
And break the chains
Then nothing will ever
Be the same

Sean Hunt June 2nd 2016

Moments

If you take some LSD
You can see
Moments
With your eyes
As they pass you by

Sixty moments per second
I am told
By a wise man
Who knows

But another wise man
I know
Who knows
Said two hundred

I suppose
They measured moments
Differently

Sean Hunt
Windermere  2015

What a curious climate
our culture is in!
We’re tormented and trapped
in a wi-fi web
Technologically dependent
utter loss of independence
Brown blackbird *******
about the state she’s in
as a box has dropped
and she can’t sing
caged in a conundrum
that has clipped her wings
no hope for a door to open up

I'll stop being me
Just for you
I'll be somebody new
Just for you

I've been seeing wrong
For a long time
I have been deaf
And blind
Thinking of 'me'
And 'mine'
Singing
My existential whine

It's time to stop
Just for you
Today I'll be
Somebody new


Sean Hunt
Windermere, Nov 3rd 2015

Donald thinks he is a king no doubt
"Off with his head" I hear him shout
and other nations best beware
of this man with too much hair

The Princess travels at his side
to other courts far and wide
And on his throne she seems to set
both her beautiful eyes

Her husband also likes to play
this big-boy power game
Watch in his supporting role
as he carries her through the threshold

If you only have
Ten words
They shouldn't be
Heard!

I know that
Some are
Guilty
But
Certainly
Not Me

Forever                  

If I could live as  long as  stone

I  wouldn't want to be bound to  flesh and  bone

Forever

And if I could fly  above the  weather

I  wouldn't want to be bound to  flesh and  feather

Forever

I don't want  to be  real

I  want to be ethereal  

Forever

Rainbow-like,  made of light

Forever

Sean Hunt  
2015 Windermere

Barking dogs and believers in God
insist that you listen
Both disturb the peace
the wolf and the priest

They choose the time
they choose the place
they choose the rhyme
they choose the pace

You are incidental
in their scheme of things
They want everyone with ears
To hear the song they sing

Mouths wide open they project
a sound you can't ignore
while they rant and rave
and growl and roar

Though you pray for the end
it will only come
when they both decide
that they are finally done

While I stare into the air
with an expressionless face
at the empty place
where my next poem will come from
I delight in my not knowing
Not knowing the name
Not knowing the fame
Knowing neither the meaning
nor the theme
Knowing neither the event
nor the intent
Not knowing the length

There is a well
that I never find dry
And now though I know
I was determined
to leave the door closed
I did not tease it out
or chase any bait
and was happy to wait
but it walked through the wall
anyways
and stares at me

My best friend’s father  
was an apple farmer  
who said to his son  most days
“By the way  
we’ll double up today on the pesticide spray”

“Son double up today on the pesticide spray”  

Walter was a miser
who exterminated bugs
ignoring all the warnings
on the pesticide cans
He killed his son Wolfgang but this wasn’t his plan

“We’ll double up today on the pesticide spray”

When Wolf was forty-six
he was feeling very sick
and noone knew the reason
for his terminal disease
the explanation for this cancer causation

“We will double up today on the pesticide spray”

The surgeon asked Wolf
if he was ever exposed
in a significant way
to pesticide spray
It was then Wolf remembered what his father used to say

“We’ll double up today on the pesticide spray”

In his garden of eden
everything was free
My friend brought bags
of apples to me
I ate a few, my family too but many many more he ate from his trees

“Let’s double up today on the pesticide spray”

Just before Wolf died
Walter sat by his bed
To his wife Wolf whispered  
these words, he said
“I have nothing to say, tell him to go away”

“He doubled up every day on the pesticide spray”

My most meaningful
Creator
Of nothing
Teacher about
How
Nothing can be found
Heard, yes
Seen, no
Found, no
Not here, not there
Not on the ground
Not in the air
Never found
Anywhere
I speak of sound

Sean Hunt
Windermere October 1st 2015