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Category: Poetry


She is the noble lady
Of the emerald vesture
Who calls to me in dreams.

Through misted moonlight
I have seen
The path that leads
To her glen and loch.
By light of dusk 
On shadowed hills
We have there rejoined 
Through glimpsing eyes, 
Then turned to separate paths.

Now where is Ainé, 
Keeper of my visions?

The dreamer of Glendalough,
The noble lady
Miadh Ríoghan.

My friend.

© 2001 John Schneider. All rights reserved.

forest grove

Bright light;
slights night.
Depart the
desert waste.
Return to the
forest grove.
Then let the rains fall and cool the scorched soul.

© 2000 John Nelson Schneider. All rights reserved.

Sweet Serenity

Set aside;
     So simple
Lend me your loneliness,
Love lingering
So simple is serenity

© 1988 John Schneider. All rights reserved.

The Radiance of an Emerald Ruin

Music and art © 2019 ANTBAST. All rights reserved.

The lyrics for several songs are from poetry by John Schneider which are posted on this site.

The Whisper

What's the whisper?

The curtains are drawn, shutting out the light
And the cold darkness dwelling in the stillness of the night:
Haunting like a shadow of the days of our past.
But life passes on, diminishing fast.

To rise then fall. Is that all?

Though the sun rises high in the quiet of dawn
And the dew melts away, as if moved like a pawn;
The moon, if it can, will shut out the light
And eclipse our droll lives, turning day into night.

To shine in vain. Is it the same?

The stars in the sky, acting in a play,
Though the light we now see may have faded away;
The star reached its peak in the solace of space
Then shattered into blindness with nothing in its place.

What's the whisper?

Do men always fall after the peak?
Is it the same, the pattern so bleak?
Rise and never fall, shine and not in vain.
The story can change...

The whisper.

© 1991, 2000, 2001 John Schneider. All rights reserved.

From Above

ribbon white
filtered light
standing in the sun
with blue green grass
through shimmered glass
commanding my childish gaze

and clouds gather
and rains fall
and winds blow
and lightning
with flashing bright
burning light
piercing through the sky

leavened soil
and farmer's toil
a seedling stretching deep
want of bread
and covered bed
masking cosmic needs

and clouds gather
and winds blow
and blow
and blow
     and blow
with farmer's toil
to his spoil
when heaven shuts its gates

© 1996, 2000 John Schneider. All rights reserved.


Echoes, as strong as ocean waves,
as faint as ripples on a garden pond,
carried like a secret whispered in a crowded room;
And ringing in my head they seemed
like quiet, scattered revelations
sent to tease my solitary muses.

I wondered at their portent as
one who gazes at the night sky
tries with outstretched hand
to touch a single, distant star;
Hope a reality, and contact
just beyond her fingertip.
And so with sigh and mental shrug
focus is channeled to what is
more familiar - as dim recognition
is a cold replacement for the searing
of bright recollection.

Now the shadows reveal themselves,
the introductions not unlike those of
distant ancestors to future generations.
Each face from the past somewhat mirrored
by infant eyes and childish lips
yearning to see and speak the knowledge
that would send my weighted soul
on a journey of expansive discovery.

Knowledge wanes then swells,
the ebb of discovery drawing
future to past and past to present;
I am the vortex.
Yet though they pass through me
in shallow breaths I cannot
fathom the secret fears they leave
in the dusted wake trailing
their winding path.

The rising joys - a peak, a glimmer -
converge in my chest and flutter, pound,
in a space long devoid of discerning.
An image rippled by falling tears
that glimmers and shatters
then collects the slivers and regroups,
catches my eye and causes my heart to leap.
An image of things to come,
revealed to me with the clarity
of dawning light. Oh, I would
claim them for my own.

Time will bring to me assurance.
Assurance, hope; faith that wavers not.
Dreams will navigate me
to that destination,
a subconscious journey, a passage
from the demons' lair behind,
from imagined worlds of bliss;
from here, from there;
from then, from now;
to unite all certainties
with all possibilities;
to thrive on the surprise each
unlived moment holds for us;
to acknowledge that by living
we accept the mysteries that lie ahead.

To you.

© 1999 by Louise Riley and John Schneider. All rights reserved.

Under Heat

Devil hot.
Through the thick air
The sun beats down
Upon my brow,
The heat my heart
To make faint.
The land of green
Baked red and black;
And I, fallen to my knees,
Turn my eyes towards the sky,
And with a gasp of breath
Find strength within the light.

© 1990 John Schneider. All rights reserved.


Surrounded by millions
who rush to and fro
with overhead speakers
which call for John Doe
to please pick up the phone.
But without you...alone.
The touch of your breath,
my lips on your cheek;
under light of full moon
as I feel your heart beat
in a time we forgot.
Now alone like I sought.
The brisk night whispers peace
that my soul can't repeat
yet so tries to command,
but concludes between sleep
and dim thought that loneliness
is poor company to keep.

© 1996 John Schneider. All rights reserved.