Tuesday, 16 February 2010
Notebook Poem
Monday, 21 April 2008
Sunrise
Vestal’s living, shinning arm
Blows across a silken Heaven
Stroking strings of gentle stroking
Sounding deaf in their endeavor.
Playing nature with a bow,
Made by nature, Weeping Willow
Lying hopes upon the hopeless,
Staining tears across my pillow.
Marking dead the targets eye,
Bloody daggers dripping hollow
Pierce the sky, from star to star
Drowning me in Heavens sorrow.
Pools of plenty, rivers, gullies…
Shout my deeds of malconception,
Reap the fruits of my ill follies
Taking breath in my deception.
Dreamland music, scorn and glee
Plays and twists and turns and falls,
Throwing bolts in darkest sea,
Monstrous shaping smiles into my foults.
And your gaze beholding and forgiving
Beholds me not with eye of grace,
And your arms, gentle and receiving,
Abandon me in dreary place.
*
Gold the sun rises to meet a blazing sky,
To meet the massive clouds burning and forlorn,
To meet the beach washing in the sea…
To find me there, standing, all alone.
Monday, 31 March 2008
The Fleeting Glance
Feeble smile, enthralled, effected,
Prison from my minds own action,
Free to flee but willing capture.
From between the gaze, reflected,
Sends me flying into rapture.
What of will?
And what of dealing
With a speech that
Is unwilling?
Treasure from beyond a phrase,
Gently spoken in a gaze.
And her writing,
Bliss departure
From this world in sinful rapture
And a cage of iron molding,
For my will, a willing capture,
All my frame and all my stature.
So what dense
And hazy thrilling
Of that mind which is unwilling?
Calling forth! Alas, half wanting
The endeavor of this writing,
Undecise,but still undoubting.
Tuesday, 26 February 2008
The Spectral Lovers
Spectral lovers entwined above the bed,
In the feeble rays of morning,
When the darkness slowly fled.
*
Shapeless palms of airy beauty
Met before the darkly dawn…
Set before the dying beauty
Of the night in brightly morn…
And the whispers of there features,
And their eyes bereaved, benight;
Lore to learn without a teacher,
Love that fled before the light…
And the glossy eye of conscience,
Closing like a feeble film
Over hopes of grassy meadows,
Drowning dead in fluid stream.
Perfume, sweet, of withered flowers
Issue from the lover’s glances,
And falls dead in morning hours
Like the faded, dreamhood chances.
So forsake the ghostly romance,
And resign to nightly reverie.
Place a lock and bare the door,
For the dream shall happen…Nevermore.
*
Spectral lovers dancing to a placid theme,
Parting ways in newly sunshine,
While I wake from darkly dream.
Friday, 7 December 2007
The Basilisk
Shifting shapes of silhouettes,
Subtle shapes, secure and lonely
Slit the air and its regrets.
Spoken language, syllables...
From a tongue forked in two slivers,
Silver sparks from the sharp fangs
Call some stranger here of thither.
Tether, line, spinning soundly,
Spiral wrapping someone's senses.
Like the voice of ill intent...
Phantom spoken from the fences.
Sadness, sorrow and the rest,
Play their music in his speech.
Silken stringed, this puppeteer
Draws his puppets in his reach.
Skin like scales, scarlet gleaming
Spew the smell of scented smoke.
Coiling coils around the body,
Closing life with simple stroke.
Swearing sentence like an oath,
Sacred place, enclosed...outspread.
Tempting guests in undergrowth,
Speaking stories...to the dead.
Tuesday, 4 December 2007
London Rain
London RainThe sullen streets they mourn the noon
That's caught behind the Heaven's gloom.
And wept the cobbles are, from bearing
All those tears the clouds are wearing.
And all the trees are wet and Grey,
Lifeless watchers of the day,
They spy the sadness of the alleys,
Remnant of the hills and valleys.
And if a hope, might, weary rise
From this thought of sad demise,
Just an echo shall remain
Stifled in the London Rain.