Two Turtles

Reader, these two turtles are one described:
Their shells coloured my sight prescribed,
Whose eyes commanded hands extend,
Fit for fingers touch upon shells to tend,
Though warm and hard was one such shell,
Drew back the other knocked as a bell,
Like a drop echoing erst the ripples form,
Each sound crawls ere a hundred born;
Now cast I check a shell: empty and cold!
Sunk, sunk away! yet its soul be gold!
Like new burberry, I tried and I wait,
This time, the price tag was no bait!
Whence my legs stretched, my neck curled,
Did slip through and here am pearled!
Child I was, such a shell then broken song!
Yet this child in me never truly gone!
Oh, beautiful shell! How bright your smile,
How blessed to have grown back in style!
Slow are the days ahead by mud be test, 
Yet rain sings "trip to tread tight" in jest!
Swim, swim away! Pieces of my past, swim!
Float and hence such erupting sorrow!
This shell abandoned new, is but shell adorned!

Asteroids

Said some years past how light gives way:
Every rock of asteroid spins,
So true it is how light brings all together,
So true is it now we observe its axis formed,
If yet make or break from hence the light,
Each spin twicefold now oncefold once
Ere the last is kept from dark is made.
Bitter and fewer were each axes formed,
Ones larger they spin as fast they come,
As each crash from this was speed the same.
So be an asteroid and here, remember this:
Of all times and grueling measure foretold,
Each asteroid shall crash upon you and break,
You shall break, and you shall split in two,
The mind so delicate, it too shall split in two;
Though words like needles drive bitter woe,
Can only go as far as skin, vein and flesh!
Yet each one spins alone and much like asteroid!
The first senses light, the second senses light;
Then third yea ancient crashes against the newborn,
Yet all they spin and continue round our gaze as new,
These are the constant cycles brought we need,
Then no space without life can suck life from us,
So be an asteroid. Spin. Keep spinning:
For it is then the Universe spinning round ye.

To no end at all, still they spin,
For light of stars touch them,
It makes them spin as fast,
Too much light, there lacks a spin.
Balance, then! Meaning, and balance.

As it sounds

Listen the words sweet and sober,
All is lingering ere tales veil her,
In coolest springs is joy beheld,
Laid by courses streaming held,
At last brought before a city woven
Hot in breezes sound as ought be open,
Added to the mix was strength and mute:
It could have been like jestered lute,
Longing be heard, if not for rain,
And when the grief comes forth,
Little by little it dissolves as dearth.
Life itself could spell the name well,
Angst, and sorrow, brewed to swell,
How now I live, so beautiful, so good?

Two Verses

There are words in these rhymes long,
They are long, but still as stars in night,
No. I have not consumed the drug of youth.
I have sicked myself cloy of the grace,
That even the greatest Zeus became ash,
Where his mount became His Mount.

I speak of the stars, then of the breeze,
It is we who are tested and sought depraved,
But are we not depraved, if so then prove:
My grief is that 'tis not the grief despaired,
But I am beyond all that can ever be repaired,
I breathe twice so I can smell thrice through stars,
But when alone, my aching thoughts are one depart.

I said two verses, but actually tis three,
These are the words;- they spill free:
Now sober the art is rank with white,
My soul is cast but you know what fight,
When the carrier of dust dispels your storm
At which point a reason comes to sing thy form.

ON THE OTHER SIDE

She couldn't dye her hair black enough,
In this room of white only dark would tear,
There stood then danced her hair in waves,
Mourn; mourn the loss of his previous self,
The text be said is but font none be read
Apart from her lens equipped shall decipher,
Till each initial on each wall shall break through;
Yet still she dances to no end at all. 
Only the eldest lady in the dark peers through,
Thence those walls beheld her on the streets,
Yet she continues to dance and seek redemption,
Yet she continues to care not for those ill of her,
But whilst the day passes on rain and singing heat
The hour-glass beholds a single eye peddling within
Transpiring within a sight of Saturn her iris in form,
Let the glitter in her eyes continue; she's yet to cry:
With every drop let our world be the dance floor enjoyed,
Let each step illumine one path.
This much she knew and spoke to his former self,
Even whilst she uses God her greatest tool,
Yet she continues to dress in colours of the soul.


Be a star

As rays of light fall,
Each took one star within,
With each star brought,
New darkness was found,
Though the rays are subtle, swift;
And from light's eye is dark around,
But give it not such benefit of doubt,
As creases fraught with light unbound,
Eerie is the dark now turned to light.
Each from no particular source,
Be it like magic; formed by excited atoms,
Smaller than grains of pollen afloat.
So, be like the atom! 
Excite yourself, exert heat;
Emit those rays of light,
Till new star is born.
(But please, no big bangs!)

Omnes ex nobis

And I breathe the Sun,
Expel a moon.
Then I called the stars,
So spell my view,
When I asked for her,
Did come Venus,
But when she parted,
My love wept loss,
And when I gave life,
They send them here,
But when I am near,
None shall be here!

*

So envelope, man great life spoke as yore,
Nor are shaken - be still! an hour is near,
Awaken! here look: the old shades gone. Nor
Are gold, millions, health and people here,
This room laden white with bitter white,
How soon the tears would show more light,
Than ceiling closed, and floor in marbled sight,
On whose footsteps brought then are yours so light!
All one could hear: nought. All I am, all else.
I am the poet that speaks riddle from myth,
Nor the gay mute bespoke, nor thought more; lest
Neither no needless pain shall conjure wreath,
Till trembling shook even Richter not scale,
Nor are your carnal stocks be furnished here,
And of what eyes foretold my judgement bail,
Till scorn alone is all devils ought to fear,
When hue brought is you brought with hundred spears,
Did not then think hapsad upon seeing Him
That you yourself  then were your past gone fears?

Just a Song (Apparently)

Yesterday I committed treason
And gave penance for beauty in lust,
My roses garnered pens for wrought,
A larking tulip sang for bust,
Nor as I were, this pen ailed as ought,
How soon petals be turned to dust.
Never our clouds bred by solemn rain,
My trees sung on earthing veins,
Then God himself would cast them sane!
But my mind is fueled with feign!
So soon heavens may bring hell to more,
The Angel Gabriel in whom I joke,
Now Jesus fought with pains too sore!
And then is Moses whose tablets shook,
But then was I, there too fraught in yoke.

So rode in horse my hour is here,
Then crease my heart till foundling near,
When I’m dust so drink my sight,
Then breath alone till ailing right.

Treason yet, but nor am I done;
Lines yea more till I am gone!
Give four more than ghastly dawn,
When muses watch with boring scorn.
I can’t write more than I read,
So the hour is through I ought to lead!
All is well till ought be lead,
Then truth be told this hour be read.

Slings, Jokes, others

Prince, sulk beneath a hooded light,
When I say this joke however mean,
I truly do mean in stronger word,
That we’ll in charms have seen,
A misery a soul equipped to laugh,
Yet he would not in sight bestow;
A joke remains so, unseen, unheard;
Like a key, poking that dark hole,
Poking and turning, nudge and feel;
Resistance borne from persistence none,
He’ll let me in and then joke is none,
How sweet is the irony, the cheers!
Unlock when no lock is nigh;
Unlock.
But, no, sanity is my weakest noun,
Indeed, as you have said, I am most sane.
The most angelic and free, a God-enduring,
I forbid all evil mine eyes cross,
I kiss the cross, the Qur’an, the scrolls!
Throw yourself into a sea of words God
Pronounces so vividly for y’endure!
That storm of pages strikes so wound a chasm,
Now is knowing no more, thinking raptured part,
Tis this irony that I speak of,
Tis comedy till no laugh is sought no more,
Though this we call a world, given birth a reason
Makes devoid of laughter at all things wry,
And still the comedic tale remains!
The stage remains open. The curtains fall, yes;
But the act continues. On the streets, at sea. Well?
So-

Unfortunately, he was sectioned soon after.