*

Nor could he accept who once he was,
From the ashes his blood shall mould,
From ash image anew shall form,
Here neath come man he ought to be.
The space between him and world far,
A breath of light this sun dispel,
As strangers known in kindled grey,
As bitter friends, himself betray,
And all the days in mieu regained,
In he married, in joy retained,
Now small hills keep watch of spelt sun,
Rays would write his name in gold,
The steps he take now a stone print,
To look back, and all that comes here.

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*

I’m a girl. It’s not easy.
Every wave shook me and then I cast away.
I wish I knew reason; what a concept:
These emotions I have. Every case is new.
A memory is as wild as a jungle in spree.
Name a boy, I am the one who sought.
Help me from the other side of stars,
I caught myself in a net of love amongst
The grieving and tearing soul to hold.
My ancestors gave free the choice I have,
Now I sing of misery and curse my heart calls;
It beckons me to go back and never live.
I have to die twice in order to live once;
It’s so true that I am the dodo in ill flight,
Whose only defence is the last it can fight,
Beautiful. So rain hell on me to a thousand.
Let all the fire burn the homes, the fields,
My family; my friends; my life; my soul adorned.
So give me a reason to live again to shine.
To tell the mirror upon whose note was shone,
A heart of eager miss can surely sound me here,
If I am to live and move on, it was all but fought.
A thousand ties and a thousand knots my soul is crossed.
No Bible, no Qur’an, no Torah can become my Exodus;
And there is a skin that breaks with blades anew.
All the sights of life now sing in dreams become.
The difference between wife and mother is me.

Open Air

Her mothers and foremothers for protection sought,
Ere sought,
She is but sought protect and indeed is cared for,
Alas, is cared,
The greatest asset of hers the abject of welfare,
In God’s will-
May shant never her Mary give leave for Virtue,
Alas, my dear,
Alas, my dear I am but bird in cage for strife,
Though I’m faint,
Since I’m hinder took, so give me Reason here,
To breathe hot air,
Perhaps I am but prepared for coals of fire,
Fear practice hire;
For practised air is but freedom’s domain,
Yet is not mine so wane?
Perchance I am but prisoned in virtue divine,
For open air over wine,
Echoes through night are cries I here whisper,
Forsake me now, my fair-
Nay, for open air I need to know how I breathe,
Pity me, and leave;
Now I’ve left, and now I shall never return,
This much I turn,
Rather I be the poorest beggar in freer land,
In land so grand
Becomes the sand I crave that touches the sea,
In whom hence I can never falter to see.

And She

And She was,
And She fought,
And She walked,
And She slept,
And She dreamt,
And She woke,
And She ate,
And She left,
And She drove,
And She saw,
And She cried,
And She broke,
And She stopped,
And She wept,
And She called,
And She bled,
And She fled,
And She sought,
And She caught,
And She brought,
And She thought,
And She ought,
And She talked,
And She kept,
And She leapt,
And She felt,
And She feared,
But She dealt,
But She spoke,
But She lived,
And She knew,
Ere She saw,
Ere She went,
Ere She smiled,
And She rose,
And She is.

Hansel

Of the peak at the mountain stops,
My heart so wild it grows cold awry,
These words I knew but never so few,
The gambling sop mine ehre this knew,
Who, of who, could never this low is due
For hunger of tears my thirst is through,
These hearts I once so, so knelt abide,
Can never watch my dearest climb so deep,
Into the chasm from which the heathen falls,
Mine art so few can never come to fall.
Let night come, my dearest Gretel, let come
Tears of holy night my death is surely missed.
This man; this man I ought I am, is sorely here,
Sister of mine, for long I sought in slumber keep,
Kneels before the lonely moon, this bitter man I am,
Who, of who, could never my art disdain,

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Silent night

But in honours the star they reach,
Sure made their children to teach,
Once it sparkles so did their eyes,
Then to a father they rise,
His minutes the hours the minutes his,
There stands outside and walking this
Man who knew not where to sight,
Beheld cranberries soaked in light,
For his half and children poured,
Stops short his breath; tears soared,
Passes the mulled wine their holy ester,
Is not what he’d dream have in Leicester, Read More