Moving Out

Ere but all the times to know,
“A drink? It’s boss. I’m fine.
There’s no need. I’ll go.”
It was not the drink of wine,

Nor the sound of fear in sleep,
It was a sign to make a snare,
How now ere the sirens weep?
“I have to go back and tell her.”

So she thought. It was the time.
“Expecting myself to cry and break.”
There’s no need, no sour words as lime
Can dissolve your soul and soothe your ache,

And if I – “Already, I am breaking here…”
No; every Phoenix rises from ash to win.
“I’m soon there.” Text me when you’re there.
As I write, a jailbreak is about to begin.

She’s about to make all words said to count,
All the while ‘I love yous’ we engraved,
A final note would suffice before we mount,
A simple thought that you’re now saved.

I have got us a home, not the best, but do,
You showed me the way, now the keys and rent,
And ere the battle is fought she ought to
Fight with both mum and womb she had lent,

Though cords be tight and chains must break,
It be ought in this most vulnerable pose
That her life truly embodies her past forsake.
“I’m moving out. Well I have to, I suppose.”

“Because I love her and I want to be with her.”
Tears as rain not even this Storm can muster,
These hours so long and few aren’t fair:
A storm out there, and a storm sought to cluster.

“I’m out. This month I’m leaving and that’s that.”
She told her. It was all done and she’s affected.
How afraid she was! What a dear heart to pat,
But now she’s broken free she thus reflected:

“In all my life I’ve learnt patience, foresight,
And to give those I love the exposure to flourish;
But here, I have all I ought to give others right,
But in me I have but none to give myself to nourish.

In these times it is yet so easy and so free
To objectify our greatest qualities in world adorn
But to apply all this in me is not so easy,
It’s another story as tearing a poetry is born.”

Their Remembrance

Every night tears would fill her womb,
Her shaking will draw him more to break,
At last was one night so still to miss:
My dear, in this lasting hour my yonder breath,
New thoughts and pleasant sights is little nigh,
Hence better actions and deeds come tide,
These final hours I give lasting words yet reprieve,
Though I action myself in months before to here,
I am but not finished my actions come for here,
Have it time: God declares this night of birth,
Ere the sun rises shall be birth ye humble year,
May pass how slow and fast encumber fates,
Sour now drown is foul so down her heart as late,
No sparks can free her eyes to better year ahead,
Though I cannot afford a glass between you and I,

From Neptune

Yesterday, I came back from Neptune,
It was an amazing feeling ere to scribe;
This sort of feeling one has but too soon,
Is but fraught not with fear one not to describe,
In ways excitement bloomed; no fear never blew,
And as I whispered Neptune, over and over again,
I saw the room around me in a familiar hue,
That colour ye know is never Neptune’s feign,
The walls would gather water and ere it falls
Descends me through the trace of land none left,

Mine Ester Brewed

Who could not foresee but light so grown,
Indeed had given more this better morn,
And just as I thought the sun would rise,
The eves of light had slowly wrung to size,
Or not so shall I spell the end I yonder bore,
Nor brought to hue these silent steps before,
Whence would rise from ash and declare me man,
Whose bitter taste and spoilt soil dare to fan,
His heart as fought as he would never entail,
Mine art so fair and dear could never wail.
But if I would, my life can never be done,
So that I say there’s my life more than sung.


Folded was then a single piece,
Folded to blend with the pile,
How many words she ought to write,
Are but words trying to express,
To express the single promise,
Who told her where she was,
Who told her the fate she knew,
Her life on a piece of paper,
All creased but folded away,
Her words eating her out alive,
Watches those verbs come to life,
Those nouns she describes fade,
Her breath on a single stroke of pen.

Noble Man – IV

In the while I was living was near,
A subtle word spoken but not found,
Single steps taken but thus far gone,
But then it came to me in single sleep,
A figure ne in clouds nor by light,
Was There; was Here; Ephereal, Silent;
Do I not say His Name and not tremble?
And He knows all the pain I had went through,
And He hears all the words I never spoke,
That shall my erst clipped wings be made again,
That neither redbull nor coke can restore,
Walks through the several rooms world-laden,
Each and ev’ry eth’real metre thought,
Then His hopes and dreams me long sought,
Ne not His presence was my fear described,
He dances through, reappearing all round,
My head dazzled by neither logic nor spark,
How can I live a life so simple, free?

Ophelia, so sweet

And I’m on the edge of the Earth,
And He sees me now where I think,
Then He looks yond the seas turning,
See how I walk with neither fear,
Where then I look away then away,
Sees the world tearing herself gone,
Sees the Sun that winks subtly,
And then I will look away from ye,
I’ll walk the darkened day as I do you,
Or we’ll sing the past echoes again,
Or we’ll whisper a name ne trembling,
Nor will we falter our path again,
I’ll heal and so will I heal, heal and heal,
God listens, knows I will from there walk,
I see my dearest love seeing me now,
She’s waiting beyond the land and sea,
There’s bandage she equips me I heal,
There’s a girl who’s watching over me,
Before God, there’s only love I seek,
I’m miles from a distant echo light sent,
And I’ve sought love long and how hard!
She but leagues away from my heart beating,
Then I am my wings clipped; my wings clipped,
I’d rather Ophelia than all the jewels,
Is sweeter than nectar (but more bitter than tea),
Regardless, I’m reuniting with my other half,
Regardless, I’m less the girl as I sing now,
I’ll become a woman another day
As the nightingale sings her to sleep.
And only God knows the way of love more.

An hour for a day

Still as the night brewing,
Is more the night so still,
Shall stop my clock another,
My heart is singing for night,
More night for an hour;
More the night an hour eternal,
Bring the nightingale from rest
Where brings me soothing tales,
Long listened and hence soothed,
An hour, just an hour for a day,
Is all that asks time for once,
Just the day to form mine hour,

Craft me a sea

Then sat down the moon yonder,
I’m looking away whilst he writes,
He’s looking at me whilst I sing,
I’m winning the hearts again;
My love is asking for my hand,
He’s asking for the way to write,
He’s loving a way through my ears,
I’m seeking a hand to guide me,
I’m looking away for the way here,
Take me from the moon to the stars,
The stars call me hither, hither;
Inhaling the stars there’s a sign,
There’s a pattern that reads:
Beauty is only the beginning in life;

There’s this girl

Who watered my heart with hers,
She’s living again as much endears,
Along the coast there’s a girl;
Once she’s parallel with the sun,
Then I’m hers with one word to say.
Give me reason to say no to her,
I shall give myself reason to go,
Another word; all the words I give,
I’m reaching for her hand again,
So long she may take me away,
We’ll rewrite the story of love,
A translation only cupid to read,
Silence my right hand from hurt,
Now I’m washing with the waves,
She’s there stood amidst the light,
A setting sun that hovered ahead,
Then at one point, time stood still.