The HyperTexts
  Charles Gorrie
  Charles E. Gorrie is sometimes know as Teārlach. We will let him describe 
  himself in his own words: "I’m a septuagenarian, grandfather of three, martial 
  artist, poet, singer-songwriter. I started writing around the age fourteen and 
  have never stopped. It’s an affliction that if I deny, it knocks me off my 
  stride and if I follow, it distracts me totally. Sometimes the only thing to 
  do is go with it. In the distant past I was a rehabilitation specialist in a 
  psychiatric hospital. A handful of years back in another universe, a friend 
  and I created a small handmade illustrated booklet of poems, for sale and as 
  gifts across our martial arts community. Some going as far as Australia and 
  others to Canada. I now publish on Substack as Teārlach. I am an associate 
  member of the Lodge Arts Community, based in Johnstonebridge near Dumfries in 
  Scotland. I live in south Glasgow with my wife Sukhbir and explore the 
  Scottish islands with my eldest daughter Ruth."
            
   A mares nest
A fractured place a seeming broken world
A mares nest to 
  unravel tangled lines to snare 
It seemed like such a simple thing  
And 
  simple things seem easy
So we opened up the box 
And let the darkness 
  out
Darkness scuttles darkness hides
In nooks and crannies 
  corners minds
Places where the earnest mop won’t go
Like missing socks 
  and biro pens
Facing up the facing down
The lost the found the 
  Looking out the looking round
The Shadows circle as we spin 
We 
  spin the wheel
The wheel spins us
Be careful what you wish for 
It may be 
  wishing you
If you peer into the darkness  
The darkness peers right 
  back into you
It seeps in, it seeps in
it seeps deeply into you
 
            
I 
  woke to snow
December crept up on me
As November ran away
  Said it was getting colder
There was no way that it could stay
  And the snow will sit till Monday
That’s what the forecast says
the 
  temperature hits plus one again
And the skies will bring us rain
 
For now I sit with this cold white
a stark black that reminds me
Of 
  a landscape gift a friend a poem
A distance 
One who loves me
 
I woke to snow
           
  So Moved By 
  The Blue
  You’ve always loved the bluebells
  Those 
  swathes of blue that sweep the land
  Beneath the trees a flood of 
  blue
  That time of year April to June 
                Wild 
  hyacinths
    That follow white of snow
     
  Dropped Crocus carpet daffodil horde
      But 
  none swathes the land so deep a hue
       
  Nor carries spring to summer
                         
  As you
     
             
  And all those times 
                
  We’d wander through the trees 
                  
  Amidst the sea of wind blown waves       
                                
  So you
                                        Your gorgeous blue
  
Lips
Your lips are pale like you 
Eyes 
  Grey blue  
Deep as the sky
They linger on mine 
Soft and cloud like 
  Alive
Soft and cloud like 
The gentlest gaze
We graze
Ephemeral 
  Exquisite 
(I woke from a dream 
Entangled in you
Lips 
embracing
  Touching grazing
your face
my face
The cup that runneth over
The cup that runneth over 
Spills into 
  clasping hands 
To be drunk another day
A sense of love that leaves 
  nothing behind
When the joy of one day bridges the night 
To bleed and 
  spill into another
A love that takes nothing away
In this love I 
  find thee
In this love you find me
With this love you bind me
With 
  this love I bind thee
With this love I free thee
With this love you free 
  me
A love that takes nothing away
A love that leaves nothing behind 
 
The islands at the edge
Contorting the land 
  Plate tilts on its edge
Shattering that by glaciation shaped 
Of rock 
  and golden sand
Driving through these islands of memory
Driving through 
  these islands at the edge
Not all time is lost (forever)
As 
  People Who shape you give way  
To people who make you
Giving way to you
  As you arrive somewhere
Closer to the silence 
Closer to that edge
  
Sapphire dark a pale sky hue tourmaline heather hills  
black to 
  purple/pink aquamarine emerald green
In the silence find me washed by the 
  waves
Soul of a poet heart of a warrior
We inhabit these lands
These 
  islands at the edge
By the precipice you will find me
       The Portal
On the other side 
  of you
Lies a magic place
I visit when you’re here
No passing 
  through 
But resting
falling in to you
On the 
  other side of you 
Is silence
Holding space 
A time of stopping
   stillness 
falling in to you
On the other side of 
  you
Lies a peace I cannot explain
This weaver of words 
no longer 
  lost
falling in to you
My best friend I 
  never see
My best friend I never see
All the rest are dead or 
  gone
Sends me songs
We talk on the phone 
He’s my best friend 
I 
  never see
So near the river
While I’m here 
  Southside desert
fields and trees
A river….. another river
River 
  city, that as well
Water flows through the divide
In the west 
  that’s north of me
My best friend I never see
My best friend I 
  never see
Sent a song this morning
A deep dark baritone 
a lonely 
  guitar
My best friend I never see 
and me
            
    Amongst the Wild Roses
To sit here where wild roses grow
Deep 
  within the scented breeze 
Feather light sense and feel 
Deeply 
  touched
Tho far away   far away
Birds struggle in the air 
  strong winds
Still they sing then turn and soar
For it does not matter 
  if 
I never see you again. 
You are always here. 
Clouds roll 
  and spill over
Tumble down mountain sides 
Obscuring then 
  dissolving before the sun
The sea seems to pile up resisting the tide as it 
  pulls   away 
Not wishing to leave these shores 
Last 
  night a storm blew in 
The loudest storm   it
Shook this place  
  In   
These lands 
Where wild roses grow
On a Day
  
On 
  a day in early autumn 
mists came
Softening the hardest edges of the 
  chill
And the cold stark early morning light 
Reflecting back diffuse
  An as yet unrisen sun
High above, the blue black sky
Hints of stars and
  Is that moon?
Into the receding distance
Shapes obscure 
Perhaps a 
  tree
Could those be 
mountains?
The HyperTexts