A mountain

Within a horizon I found myself in awe,
As much I found is lest but not foresaw,
Who beheld the sun eclipsed by long before,
Is not the rock that sound by light furore,
Though peaked in angles ne rays never betray,
Though fought through night for never to say;
Ere silence brought was more reason thought,
Whose winds cast not though breathed to taught,
As fire would burn chokes the mountain,
Nor the mount to fall on high from the rain,
Hither and thither a cold brew sore to see,
Is not the mount on Earth for all to see,
But then as I stood in hearth come watched, Read More

*

Imagine a train that never stopped,
No signs nearby to tell you where,
The passing of the world was norm,
The hours of long gone dissolved,
All the world in chains soon part,
A nether sight could not be found,
As though spun in inertia as one,
Clasped in the hands orbit of woe,
Nor music, reading and talk dawned,
In the midst of the process of time,
I found myself watching the world by.

Who would fall to water to rise from hence?
And then to feel the cool windows floating,
Then saw the agony of wind come heart divine,
Long last can speed never be slow to tell,
A speech so faint whose mortality dares align,
When stops the breath one small cool fate,
Is what thinks you do is but lack you thought,
Is but echo through a foggy land,
And the sky turn red shall raise thy heart aloud,
And the sun but ere it fall is borne to set,
When minutes become hours, our hours are infinite.

And so it goes on,
As they all walk on.
The rails hind gone cold,
Ere the road grows bold.

Second Thought

Under the streets was the sky above,
A bitter taste left no air abound,
Known was he who threw all disarray,
Flaneur is he how idle a shadow kept,
Breathed the creases a still night,
This wind brought round and round,
It was a thought and he was night,
Under the lake he’ll swim to dive,
Alas he knows not to swim but shall,
It wasn’t his will but hence partake;
For, to do is not to be born to be,
Legs clapsed in stems no thorn brew, Read More

Of Yahoos and Humans

From thence he returned with no abode but lay,
Could not utter words at what horror that may,
So much he would foul in disgust that serves,
Sees himself in a mirror where shrieks his nerves,
Henceward casts himself in the dark and forgets,
More he spits at himself and his skin begets,
A figure stood but could not look back in thought,
How, now? could he ever seek himself in thought,
What gesture too divine can seek him clear of woe,
However beautiful is life without presence of woe,
For caused but ere bestowed was he unto others,
Another human is that which he clearly bothers,
Is sought this trail that leads the hunt towards,
His angst so large and far can escape him homewards,
At last he arrives and sees himself through reality,
One amongst the people in a world of bestiality, Read More

Little feather

A field so subtle, so silent a new field,
Who wouldn’t pick and store in their room?
A little further, his heart was running,
Though could only walk so far before he stopped,
Every step was the stick that beats his drum,
A falling leg and so his soul stuck to view,
Sighs and gasps could not tear him apart,
A sound was falling into decay,
This feeling could not last so long,
Sought himself a better place than this,
How long could he stay in the place he sees?
A secret known but could never reveal, Read More

At the garden

I see a swallow across the fields,
There’s something; I’m walking away from thence,
So long I feel the air into a void suspense,
So long is the time I felt my spirit run,
Whose beauty can only testify ere the Sun,
Blesséd is I; this gifted joy can never go.

And the light that shines me this dainty glow,
A howling through the wind the tree brushes,
No sight so simple as much the blood rushes,
Whose flesh can never hold his mind so weak,
Whose steps through the way yonder seek,
My time erased or long has it come so far. Read More

Story of the Night

There was this river I once knew,
So beautiful was its nightly glow,
But sometimes I would walk past,
But sometimes I would not pass,
And at times the river flooded,
So much pavements were sodded,
Yet someone would always wander,
Yet never knowing what to ponder,
A life so still and so fragile,
Can only be so quiet or agile, Read More