*

My day is measured as thus:
Twelve hours of awakening,
Four hours then of enlightening,
Eight hours reflecting (slumber),
But hope has it a goat appear,
And deliver solemn words aghast:
These angels past, the devils fart,
And so my word is mute on flute,
And were it not my song so loud,
Then the tale of God can never pass,
Within sanctum of my being,
The second of my beating,
Lays a wreath adorned by thorns,
In every thought pricks the heart.
That sanctum is my religion;
That being is my philosophy.

O Seeing Darling

I am the cloud that holds the sky,
The sky that holds the rain,
The rain that eschews a drop;
Whose drop becomes your drop,
Whose drop is flavour of mine,
Could never tell what flavour thine,
But know my flavour salt and sweet
Is never but royal yet tastes divine:
I hold a secret at whose core is teem,
This drop I add to the basin below,
This basin below I call the world,
Filled with more drops to follow.
I speak of others deliverance unfurled,
Yet yelled beneath their chins was led,
And cried in earnest how far they fed,
Of all songs heard and books they read,
Who could never look above stars to see
Ere question the depth of being they lead.
I am come from nothing of being swayed,
Tricked by echoes of peace and ought,
Then persuaded by soothest song abide;
Whose melody even God’s cheek would shine,
In whose rhythm even Saturn may wallow.
At the silent close of darkest state,
An only child would walk a path alone,
Whose parents never were, nor would feel,
At heaven’s disclose, least they’ll hear:
So my dearest so utter that single rain,
Then make my peace at hearth be made,
Whatever age, nor strength and wisdom fade
Shall you always be child, my sweet of mine,
Give leave whilst you sing a drop in here,
Of all colours and smell, taste and depth;
Some shall sink lower to the floor till naught,
Some shall float till light perish their woe,
But yours, yours shall sink with what you feel.
Focus on what life given that precious gift,
Then the path may follow, and all shall open;
What policy you have for what governs the basin,
That cry for what basin walls be painted then,
And so change the basin all you want tenfold,
In a hundred, a thousand, or even a million,
Shall never change that for which it holds:
So make your drop the lasting drop in life.
Look below, and care not the basin walls around,
Let that drop you eschew in the basin of water,
That sweet and soothing drop shall mix with mine,
With each hand yea wet, it glows with fire beheld,
All water under the eyes of He and He alone
So when time allows for the basin ought be drunk,
So may this one outshine all others he bades,
At whose entrance shall you be at one with Him.

*

She didn’t know what brought her
Through yard upon yard she walked,
Distant slopes called all to bear
That echo of all waves they tucked,
That calm and smooth sound forgone,
Not long before a city swept it gone,
Till more was new than weeping song,
In dearest pride she is barely done.
And in the steps she carries weight,
These steps that carry this too far,
In lieu of such glistening hand to fate,
Now begins one reality from old to bar,
But waves continue, no fire perish,
And the sun still shines even unseen,
Beneath which solely stood was she,
Nor could she on sun’s rays lean,
Could scarcely spot a cracked sky,
In the midst of storm, in the breadth of dark,
She seeks the light; Seek the light,
God is the light.

When Descends

Now descends is Atlas whom Zeus appointed,
“Now shall You I curse this world to bear,
Whom no greater pains but lasting fates
Shall crease thy criminal birth in folds
Of two. One for each hand; I give and grow.
Did I not give you the hands to make work?
Did I then not smite the hand that holds?
Or when Hera whispered in mine ear your cry,
But this will not serve, all must hear it;
Thy hold of my world is now my hold over you.”
So Atlas stood, descending from above on high,
Descending lower, and lower till all is come:
Is this the world I ought to bear, it is come.
Of this mighty weight, the rivers and trees. Come.
The mountains and oceans I bear. It is come.
Do I not add so much weight, if twice my sorrow? Come.
When I shall stand, nor leave my legs to crouch. Come.
And all the trees bristle with fleeting wind to come,
And noon is shone by a single light mine eyes are blind,
Nor grieve a single tear that rises the oceans more,
Nor rain can dispel the mute of space from dark mine face,
Here less I stood, and soon my legs stoned in shock,
Think less of what then, who cannot befriend nor mate,
Who could never see his face again, but stare by side below.
I am the slave that weighs the world by the zero-sum;
So Hail the Zeus that casts such a misery upon me,
Do I not hold a world that could never hold me?
So ends the sad tale of great Atlas, here and there;
Here and there he crouched with full weight and mused:
The Spheres of Mars and Saturn, so vanquish peril,
So cast away, and look yond the Sun that orbits,
To the North we see his tears vaporised to clouds above,
To the South his dark and shady figure comes aged and cold,
So come what may, whether be or not, ere set nor dawn spread,
The charms once leaked, so his shadow forms the space,
Till, flesh on flesh, blood on blood, eyes and heart depart,
The breathing yet lifeless figure dusts into the nether dark,
His flesh: the moons; his tears: the stars,
Till one day wonder a people sired this realm so dark,
Then ponder why and how such things were made,
Though never witness its Maker till Judgement,
Nor remember the origins of rain, cloud, wind;
Nor breathe another air mixed in pain,
So poor Atlas fades in mem’ry.,
And all flows and fires away.

Aeneid’s Passing

Alas this moon knew no dark,
Where lay eclipsed my wrong,
Now no light can hide my ark.
Now, a breath still as light,
So give torch ne give as such,
What words pass on falser right,
That appoint my brief yond march,
O Muses that calm my heart away:
Give me reprieve that I stay away,
That all I live shall turn away,
For all I say may echo all away.
Though life subtle gives nay,
And so I walk the walk I deigned,
In hair by strand greys by day,
But whose day is wrought if feigned?
Allay this doom fates doom this allay!
Come; a branch no leaves shall part,
Ne ate nor drink neither brew nor naught,
Now noon is naught of night as art,
But mine walk through pillar ye ought,
And all who grieve my pass, oh solemn,
Now cheat my heart, of Hers, I beseech,
Where is she? I give word for contemn,
A whisper then is the soothing speech,
Deliver words if not by eyes nor waned,
That ghost alone carries my free thought,
Aghast is mine ay this mind so caned,
Is spoke and ere I see her to my ought
Shall I pass over Elysium for pride deny,
I am the Prince of all Sin to declare,
No gentleman is I who sees whom I can lie,
In whose throne as still no way is lair
Now all is still, all so silent,
All ghosts am I, now I’m me no more!
Nor shall He, Jupiter, my sword for rent!
But all I am, unforgiven is me no more.

A Plea

As a man, I sought this control over myself. Now, I finally have it.

Thus the men and women gathered in circles,
So give it time to assemble under sphere,
Reel by reel, rope on rope and flesh bis flesh,
Creek and toe, mute and sulk, a joy withheld,
Sing the way, a Shahadah, nor spell a name cast,
A wound in veil is but wound in thousands more,
Let this saken pruning my art so fine and dare,
A light is cooled by freezing teeth on snow dread’,
Breathe. Thine eyes closed. Now, I breathe again,
A stone bleeds with moss from the gaps between,
And though it sinks through air and the rain here
It does not temper the rock and mountain fall,
I walk as though I walk again for a first in while,
The sands brush against me, whilst snow dares to part,
And all the while my touch is frozen by God himself.
I choose a path that no other man would never dare,
So once I’m at the close of the circle, a semi appears,
Then square it, half the corners, round them; choose:
Amidst each figure, bring them forth, in fire, through dark,
Walk round, and choose, so that none may be chosen,
Then breathe. All is done, now kiss an air so cold well,
Drink, a bird in paradise descends and I shall feud,
I forgot it all. I’m in religion as memory perfect,
In reason fought, now thought as I is given brought,
Entrusted on me is a companion of these of two,
Once I fall, so shall the others fall with me.

*

An echo follows a shadow unbecoming
Whose daring eyes need not fall behind,
Now is the time a foot walks ahead another,
Meagre means of meaning mused for muted music
Cast, oh cast despair whose cross is crossed.
Glory to the Silent of all Silent God witness,
Now spare a bread and all water for wine shared,
‘Tis all but wrought, alack whose beliefs waned,
Hence baptised from young now dreams an angel death,
Grieves not his passing tale of woe and lone breath,
In the abyss of vacuum fair, a spell if shone Hearth
The kick of soul from Jupiter sought. Is He Sought?
So forgive his past, forgive all happened, give pill;
Echo away, these chants of woe and will so sing delay,
An arch of faith so present his rosary is just anew,
No pope to chant, nor boy to sing, nor man to mourn.
Here’s the whisper of heart, the shout of man:
A blind man now is sorely from birth in ought believe.
In the light of shadow, nor Earth can cast a shadow,
A man lay there, in hourly breath, his heart is now.

In He

Rain on me a delectable taste of God divine,
Pray there the Cube upon which the banner holds,
Like flames engulfing the light then new; resign.
A leaping faith to mine in words of rich and old,
An art so thick these words are ecstatic and loud,
My grief is wrought for a sign that He listens near,
So when I’m here alone may I be never lone in sound,
Now night is summoned, give word for once mine ear,
To drink each word with single gulp my throat to swell
Shall give me leave in names of He I thus recite,
For each breath becomes pause in time to dwell
Whilst the Earth is sunk through He ne not in sight.

Directions

To the crossroads they went and saw,
Ghosts prepared meal from dry bones
And waited in spores and riches held,
A moon gazed in light; all light so rich,
Anew were the footsteps in echoes brought,
This brew of soup is last I from yond try,
Nor beg the moving roads in sand to pass,
Nor check the hooves of dead horse trodden,
More sake in bitter feel in chastised hope,
A pen I ought to try but no hand to take,
A pillar amidst the orbit of all life between,
A figure bows, more figures arose to sky,
The ladder I build for grace I weep to sigh,
A lingering cast is brought in me and life,
And all is wake in whose life I ought to take,
If not for mine, but for thine; let it be mine,
All rebirth I am shall be turf in kindled bake,
Whose road I ought to take, nor left, nor right?
No way forward, but we’re kept in mind’s jail,
So kneel me before the light and see me frail,
Oh, decades past; my hair so grey I am sorry,
I should have went, but could not have went.
Forgive my delay, I could not decide where,
Pity me for being the man who could not walk,
So pity all I am and rain me an ocean to fall,
Aghast the breech of hope is dainty glow reborn,
I shall try as an ant in utmost order prevail,
The blackest of which in blackest of all night,
Behind the blackest stone, atop the black marble,
Whose sounds unheard by those I once I was,
But He knows. But He knows what ought I am.

Adam’s Plea

Morn for all no more, oh Lord;
On fall or torn but bored
What woe on all ere dawn
For lost on ground to mourn.

And sat was fair ground halt,
‘Tis time that flows like salt,
‘Tis time alone to make best,
In this world, at all fest.

I walk the world in heart,
I sing the echoes in hearth,
In the bliss of day bind
Mine heart in you to find.

Now enter a built entrance,
When Eve was in a trance
She could never believe
The words I ought to weave.

For You have always been,
Oh Lord, our mercy seen
Your bulk of beauty known,
Your sulk is mine beknown.