Where he was

Whether there, nor here, a leak so sore,
And whirling through the ages past is gone,
And musing can it not shine light once more,
These steps he ought to walk before they run,
A smoothing sound, a familiar sound he rose,
Now breathes an air ill-fresh, nisc, contrite,
Ere all the life he once he had is gone to pose,
Seemingly in the dark, hidden in memory to fight.
The hours roll by, as always, by day and week,
He forgot the life he once had in a near-gone past,
Like a scent, these memories had succumbed so weak,
To gather a perfume, to shade a natural scent fast,
So that none would wonder where he is come to where,
Thus is ought to say he’s simply that from where he is,
This rapid change of constant revision as a train fare
When no one notices, then freezes at such remarked fizz,
It all seems a distraction he thinks, and no one cheers,
The western parts fared better, but it’s all gone now,
Now he says he’s back where he was, like all those years
Of seeking and hoping, come sought and hope for now,
Is stability brought, but yearns for unstable fraught,
Let me fall again! Just so I know I live, he says,
But no time is come than ill-got of present thought,
So when he’s finally that, then he knows his ways.

 

niesc = short form for omniscient

*

Every sound becomes a noise,
Every noise becomes an echo,
And every echo becomes a memory,
And every memory becomes ripple in the ocean,
And every ripple joins the waves at sea,
And every wave moves a stone ashore,
And every stone becomes the sand,
And every sand we walk,
And we gaze beneath the sun, above the sky,
And every sight becomes the last night.

How tastes your sorrow sweet delight,
These words falling like shallow rain
Could then bring tears in darkest night,
Not so much man to ease his reign
On feud in he within resides,
But cool in thought but jest he laughs
Through which he brushes tears aside
Then claims this cup of water nought,
But even holy tears they seem
Ere drunk from which is best foresought,
Nor Sirens’ call true redeem:
So he knows more himself to feel.

The darks are turned, the breath is laughed,
A stone unturned, ere breaks a wheel,
Winks aside, freaks alight now toughed
To shame all but none himself. So peel
Every soul, every man, all he is,
In school was taught and break in bar,
But demon instinct call him to this:
So now he is brought through the bar,
And come never the stakes so high,
Lidless ego whined for a while,
But all he tastes was blood so nigh.

Man’s Comedy

For even the Sun so potent, so bright,
Can only live so long ere dawn resign,
And at last its life in space to fight,
Had only surpassed its limitless design.
Even a Man as God he is flesh within,
The days are stretched, nights so long,
And he looks back those yore days living,
Only to weep tears harsh in silent song;
But I am humbled, dare the ego speaks,
And must try more for crowd in worship,
For without the crowd I am but weak
To cry worse than endure hardship.
His thoughts race, his heart endures:
This chaos he brings is his alone,
The dogs do bark, his fear so pure,
A fall he begs, a prose to moan,
He can’t see past the end of his pole,
For there was nothing yond perceived,
His greatest fall had come to hole,
This repeats till he’s none conceived,
Like half-vase cut from top to base,
With no water can then it contain,
No plant to hold efflorescence.
Like coffin this vase can retain
His pillaged soul till morning drew,
Already dead, his hair coarse and thin,
Then lone is brought is ill he grew,
All he is left is now a thing.

Mirror

Years past since his mother a mirror bestowed,
Oh, adorned silver on silver etched light glowed:
Beheld a man of one whose first gift he saw,
In bitter hopes a greater value accost how sore
That this mirror was accepted ne free nor free,
But the price he pays is but age in cast to glee,
The falls of Earth, of rock, fire, the ether new,
Close thine eyes and breathe this soft kiss grew,
Whence fleeting joys ere placed in life’s disgrace,
Shall he look at the mirror and observe such a face
That changed for years that blew at speed, so bless:
He grew, he learnt, and a habit he knows at best
Is to observe himself and all he is and he shall be,
As the years grow, his face so changed he described ne,
Whatever account his life writ on heart and mind essay
So breathes the mirror to describe faint what ought to say,
From teen years rough, to mid years contrite, et cetera;
So long as he reflects, and knows all. The next day an era,
To look upon that which is mother, long passed, had given,
He looks, and thus he sees and he was in this world to live in.

Blind Boat

Concrete mounted on a particular front,
Nor mountain can move formed construct,
But I have a plan: I am going affront.
If I don’t get out, I’m truly fucked.
I can’t live; as birds migrate here,
Their wings compass, minute gaze so vast,
A bird I call; no wings beckon near,
Give me a set of wings so fast,
Away from sun and water I prefer,
They’ll call me neurotic; am so queer,
These widened iris’ right and left refer,
Not a blink, not a sound, nor a peer,
Dance my ears to footsteps this crude,
Yet so feared and now I am this lone,
Not even through the others how rude,
Everything’s gone. I am no longer me,
I am out. Now this stage thus breathes,
Innocent me, mad me, as best I glee,
Woods. Birds. Nothing in the eaves,
Damn, if only a bit of light to guide
To rest myself by night for cool watch.
My electric mind zaps at all who bide
Attention to one laughing this much:
No one following. Ha! None here? Ha!
The boat: there it is. Now, we flee!
It seemed a mirage at first comme ça;
A simple boat, but, what? How silly!
I have no headlights. No torch. Damn.
Let me drive by moon’s grace then;
I don’t care where I go or how I do;
So long as I escape. Away from ram.

*

At the casting dawn, no star no bright,
Did see it through the turmoil peaked,
In pleasure fought but pain embraced,
Sleepless brought, no mind would cease,
In the brink of hollow, so much as horror,
Did see the light, these paths unchained,
Who moves with wheezing gasp to shed,
Now saw himself between shadow and shade,
In lidless hue the breath he can’t deny,
So soon he bode in wreaths come align,
The chest so red and lips so swollen,
With changed voice from tongue to swell,
And ere brought from here to deepened downs,
Nor south may make south heaven again,
Did cease to be, and all was slammed indeed,
Now he returned and himself brought asunder,
How yea lifeless and soon he walked away,
So once he returns now warns himself this peril,
This musing night, so life do your worst,
He’ll walk again and muster rain and heat,
So he shall rise again with no relent to pass,
This hour is the hour he is. Oh yes;
Nothing will make him stand at bay,
At the birth of light, his life stood anew.

So saith

Give me hope,
There is no rope,
I need a rope,
There’s this rope,
Who could hang me here?
There’s nowhere to hang.
If all I knew could fall,
Who talks to brick wall!
So speak my name,
‘Tis only lame,
But what of my name?
Nor speaks its fame!
And my life?
‘Tis only strife.
Where’s the road?
Who’s only road,
Can speak in roars and fire,
The art of one so dire,
Who likes me anyway?
No one likes you anyway,
But, I have a love who does!
There’s no light to toss,
No darkness but here inbred,
No breath to scar our souls,
We’re alone.
We’re alone.
We’re about to fall,
So shall we fall,
Or Moon so light is nigh,
‘Tis light that is lie,
Or thus we walk to fence,
In bitter grime defence,
Whose feet in dark imprints,
Just birth and death it prints,
All between birth and death,-
Is meaningless so saith:
All the world. All the time,
There was no world. No time.