Tea at Tympani Lane Records

World Message of Peace

The following are excerpts from The Angel, available in hardcopy and EBook @ Amazon.ca.

“ The flight out of Egypt

God will hear our song

the song in our hearts

by the river of Babylon ”

(The eye

on the soul

the world of sky)

The Spirit

whispers to the Angel

the secrets of the world

if you listen closely

he will whisper them to you.

Angel of harkness,

angel of happenstance

o’ well loved angel

the beauty of tears, sorrowing

the moon and starlight

past the hollow

the window

that yawns

over tied hands

that broken golden wings

could mend

fly us anywhere,


even here,

heaven is blue.


The beautiful veneer

of a very old movie

drinking very expensive champagne

outside in the Summer sun

all afternoon

until the edges go away.

“ only drowning men could see him . . .”

- from Suzanne by Leonard Cohen

And the God

fashioned you

from the gut strings

of my guitar

so all men will be beggars

through the silence

of the desert

and all the night

in the throat of the lotus

angel bluesky

on your cloud

by the ringing of the phone

on your cloud,

on your cloud.


The difference between

time and circumstance

some drug induced strip tease

and the dance

there, not there

the last of the pawn shop arrival

and some angel on his knees.

Somewhere on rain street

the hanging tree

like selling indulgences

the sirens

and the banging door

the dance of love and death

(by poetry

and street lights)

past the weight of souls

the angel knows.


Street angel heart

having stumbled upon

the joy

he sits,

so beautiful by the road

the angel

the loved one

by every hand that ever touched him

the journey of the world

at the end of time.


He carries the quiet

as he sits

by the street

the Buddha one, the angel

they leave him gifts of food

and monies,

prayers to heaven . . .

Quiet mystery

stumbling upon love

by the side of the road

there are so many words for him

so many words for fire

the dance

by Summer night,

the angel quiet.

( I am the seashell of poetry )

the angel covers me

the poems

spill out

cover him

keep him safe

like the solemn promises of children

holding the sky.

Quiet the night

the angel kneels

in the half-light

the storm of poetry

flowers entangle the rain

as the dark falls.

In the woods,

as if I could lose myself

in the sky

the quiet

of blue

a stone bird

in the hands of the angel

the forest draws close

whispers quiet

he draws me close,

the sky.

If I don’t need you

they can’t take you away from me

(I chant under the sky)

I wear you like a mask

the Spirit of the angel

the shadow

that heals.

I kiss the inside

of your wrist

that flowers into morning

o’ angel

the Summer

fields in roses

bloom for you

tho’ you are not here

(you rest with the day)

somewhere blue

you dance with the sky.

Silent angel

your silence keeps you

from the rain

blue o’ sweet blue

the quiet of nothing

so slow,

the quiet

the sun and the moon

the morning

that drifts into night


and gazing into keyholes

into nightfalls,

the sky.


Apocalyptic traditions

and the fire of the bronze,

the angel one

his hands rest

so quiet

over heaven

bound, unbound

so quietly masticated

by the sun

to turn on fire

heat by fire

and with the shadows

slow half-light

the cool kiss of rain,

the night.

Friend of the darkness

as if having unwrapped the machine

o’ angel

having descended into hell

he who has fought with demons

the struggle to see God

surrounded in fire

the fire with

that heals

the fire without

that breaks

breaking the soul

into the window upon the sky . . .


O’ angel

as if kissed by the sky,

the window

the soul of nothing

I could imagine blue

I could imagine time

and the quiet

where the doves fly.

Walking and walking

through the streets

the underground caverns

the air full of rain

inside the nothing,

the nothing and quiet

at the foot of the angel

even small birds feed.




Tea at Tympani Lane Records

Rebecca Anne Banks

© 2014