His head adorns a mantelpiece
A showoff to the friends
A dusty rug was omce his fleece
His mighty existence ends.
A British ruler bagged him
While hunting in Nepal
It was a rifle that shot him
That caused him to fall
CHORUS
His now vapid snarling frown
Resting on the wall
Placed as if it were a crown
His listless eyes appal
His glossy stripey shiny pelt
Skinned and gath'ring dust
Once fierce but it was soft as felt
Is this really a must!?
-----These animals are burning out
As William Blake once said
Our symbol of majesty 'bout
To be perm'nently dead.
His hautê-couture of orange stripes
Gone from its jungle den
Of its land of forest wooden pipes
Disappeared from the fen
As a man, it's really a shame
That this day did ever come
Mother Earth is cursing our name
Why've we been so dumb?!
CHORUS
Friday, January 19, 2018
The Birder's Laments
In the foliage, a flash of green
Colors of a vine snake, serpentine.
Emanating from the bushes, a raucous call,
That harsh chattering is a broadbill’s call!
I’m an intrepid explorer in Bangladeash,
A sleeveless shirt and shorts (this is my vesh)
The sweltering heat makes me sweat
My entire shirt is feeling wet.
Camera ‘round my neck, binocs in 1 hand,
Salt stick in the other, to kill leeches in this land.
My legs and hands are paining, I nurse my wounded arm
The forest is amazing though, and hasn’t lost its charm.
I’ve seen 80 lifers in a matter of 2 days
I shall wait a little more to see how the fate plays.
A yuhina flock flies overhead, I’ve seen them all before,
But I’d like to see something with rarity- a little more.
I came with aspirations of a forest full of birds,
How wrong I really ended up I can’t describe in words.
The birds have got me walking in these god-forsaken lands,
A place with tribals, no cities and occasional brigands.
I smile and think fondly of the place that I call home
As I trudge the world over, from Argentina to Nome.
In the start- it was thrilling- it was fun
But now my world-weariness has officially begun.
Suddenly, a brightly colored bird flits across the road,
Something that I don’t need is somebody to goad.
The pure thrill of the chase envelopes me again,
As I break into a sprint, running down the lane.
“I’ll see that bird if it’s the last thing I do!”
I think as I gallop off into the blue.
Chewing Gum
A boy was walking down the street,
When some gum stuck to his shoe,
It had been chewed once long ago,
And was the colour blue.
The boy was disgusted, but walked on,
Knowing that the gum would break,
He walked to the supermarket,
And then walked on to the lake.
The gum held on, through thick and thin,
And with every step he would take,
The gum became longer and stretchier,
But it would never, ever break.
It followed him from Rome to Nome,
And over the Himalayas,
It followed him to a baseball match
Where he was one of the playa's.
It went with him in Alaska,
Where the snow falls deathly white,
It was with him in the Sahara,
Where your water can't be out of sight.
Finally, as an old man,
Sitting down to rest,
He was struck by a marvelous idea,
Which he thought was the best.
He bent down way over,
To see where his gum was glued,
He opened his mouth as wide as he could,
And CHEWED.
When some gum stuck to his shoe,
It had been chewed once long ago,
And was the colour blue.
The boy was disgusted, but walked on,
Knowing that the gum would break,
He walked to the supermarket,
And then walked on to the lake.
The gum held on, through thick and thin,
And with every step he would take,
The gum became longer and stretchier,
But it would never, ever break.
It followed him from Rome to Nome,
And over the Himalayas,
It followed him to a baseball match
Where he was one of the playa's.
It went with him in Alaska,
Where the snow falls deathly white,
It was with him in the Sahara,
Where your water can't be out of sight.
Finally, as an old man,
Sitting down to rest,
He was struck by a marvelous idea,
Which he thought was the best.
He bent down way over,
To see where his gum was glued,
He opened his mouth as wide as he could,
And CHEWED.
The Grij
Oh, here we are,
It's dark and cold,
Anybody in there
Is brave and bold.
It is the lair
Of a terrible beast
Known as the Grij
That Eats Men with Yeast.
People do tremble,
Upon hearing its name,
It has giant leathery wings,
And can breathe hot flame.
Many a man has gone in its cave
Only never to return
But we are here to trap the Grij
Inside this giant sack.
We carry a torch
To see through the dark,
But wouldn't it have been better
If we played in the park?
It's dark and cold,
Anybody in there
Is brave and bold.
It is the lair
Of a terrible beast
Known as the Grij
That Eats Men with Yeast.
People do tremble,
Upon hearing its name,
It has giant leathery wings,
And can breathe hot flame.
Many a man has gone in its cave
Only never to return
But we are here to trap the Grij
Inside this giant sack.
We carry a torch
To see through the dark,
But wouldn't it have been better
If we played in the park?
A Traveller's Tale
My domain is fluffy clouds and wide blue skies
The crannies of the soft warm grass are my home
The brothers sun and moon, sentries up high
Nature guards me wherever I roam.
Secluded Spot (5th grade me)
Sitting in a secluded spot, in a secluded place
In all this secluded secrecy, the world is losing face
So let's get out of our secluded spot, and go out to make some change
We shall scale every peak in the longest mountain range
We'll swim across every ocean and reach every height
We won't give up that easily, we will put up a fight
Sun or snow or wind or rain, nothing may block our path
For we'll fathom every depth, Our spirits burning like a hearth
We'll change the world, yes we'll change the world
We'll do that nigh impossible task
For in our hearts our spirits blaze bright
We'll remove the Earth's evil mask.
Thursday, January 18, 2018
A Hope For A New Day
It isn't crazy
To wish for peace
When all is falling around you
Like a misshapen origami figure
Collapsing, imploding
Into its own yawning mountain folds
And when all you cherished
Breaks into pieces
The one thing you truly cared for
Shatters into a million disarrayed shards
Like a broken lustrous marble
And even your jigsaw-puzzle dreams
Of building it back from the ground
Upwards to the lonely heavens
Where it once stood, a pillar of hope
With the duct-tape of determination
Fails and collapses
Remaining as the dust of dreams
Caking a sullen floor
And when the ghosts of
Past and the hidden future
Begin their danse macabre
Slowly whirling like dervishes of old
In a terpsichorean stampede
All you want at that moment is
Serenity
Fortitude and
Strength.
1. Strength to outrun
Your imposed shortcomings
The narrow barrier walls
We inevitably seem to cage ourselves in
Like a prisoner on his own terms
Seeking no emancipation
As the buzzards of your past broken dreams
Circle nearer, nearer, ever nearer.
2. The strength to believe in yourself
That no, it's not the end
There's some purpose
Waiting for a pickup
Just around the dreary bend
Something worth being around for
And something to cherish again.
3. The state of tranquility
That elevated state of being above
All that teeters, on the verge of collapse.
And that which soars but fades
Into a doomed descent
On melting wings, into the ocean
Of dreams that just couldn't make it
The ability to steer clear of
These projectiles of disaster
That rend the sky
_
When you finally realize
All of these fantastic powers
These glorious gifts
Of soaring over obstables and plagues
Are within that magic-powered
Chunk of intergalactic starstuff
That.
Is.
You.
You.
You can slowly build yourself
From the littered pieces of your soul
And face the rosy dawn again
After the garish neon moon
Of your darkest night is set
With all the halcyon splendor
Of a radiant new soul
After all, when something is black
It doesn't mean that it doesn't have colour
It means that it absorbs them all
So in the darkest hours just remember
You have the spectrum within you
And then?
You have found nirvana.
Crazy, isn't it?
Divine
I am a god.
I sing the songs of the epochs
And spin the gilded tales
Of the lost aeons.
I watch over this little world
A grain of coarse sand on an infinite beach
A phantasmagorical marble
Of blown gossamer glass
I dance in the shadows of the hours
In the echoes of the minutes
And in the space between seconds.
I am the dread and the joy of the people
Bringing solace as the ethereal
Whispers of the wind
And the guardian of the sun kissed day
In a heady trance of equinox and moonbeams.
I am the cause of all entropy.
You are merely a single bead
In the glorious rosary of lives I hold
Stiched together into tapestry
In the hymns of the constellations.
I watch beneath the creator's veil
Hidden in the everyday
Bearing witness
From the rugged earth of the mountains
The crowns of slumbering giants
The warm russet brown that fades
With the hues of smoky quartz
And redolent ecru teak
Into the morning sun
Dripping onto the honeyed veins
Of burnished copper
Till the roiling seas
Aquamarine and vast
A mystery blend of sapphire and ultramarine
Deep and tantalizing
Hungry for the infinite
Calm, but surging, swelling
An eternity of crests, a glorious expanse
Yet cleverly concealing the hidden
Melodies of its deepest lairs
And beyond your world
I see
Locked in dim eclipse
A smattering of azure blossoms
I lovingly tend
Among the vast inky dark.
I sing the songs of the epochs
And spin the gilded tales
Of the lost aeons.
I watch over this little world
A grain of coarse sand on an infinite beach
A phantasmagorical marble
Of blown gossamer glass
I dance in the shadows of the hours
In the echoes of the minutes
And in the space between seconds.
I am the dread and the joy of the people
Bringing solace as the ethereal
Whispers of the wind
And the guardian of the sun kissed day
In a heady trance of equinox and moonbeams.
I am the cause of all entropy.
You are merely a single bead
In the glorious rosary of lives I hold
Stiched together into tapestry
In the hymns of the constellations.
I watch beneath the creator's veil
Hidden in the everyday
Bearing witness
From the rugged earth of the mountains
The crowns of slumbering giants
The warm russet brown that fades
With the hues of smoky quartz
And redolent ecru teak
Into the morning sun
Dripping onto the honeyed veins
Of burnished copper
Till the roiling seas
Aquamarine and vast
A mystery blend of sapphire and ultramarine
Deep and tantalizing
Hungry for the infinite
Calm, but surging, swelling
An eternity of crests, a glorious expanse
Yet cleverly concealing the hidden
Melodies of its deepest lairs
And beyond your world
I see
Locked in dim eclipse
A smattering of azure blossoms
I lovingly tend
Among the vast inky dark.
A Mountain Sheep
Up in the frozen icy peaks
Where mountains spear the sky
Where all life merely shelter seeks
And the ground is cold and dry.
Where the snow cakes, in icy embrace
And clouds pierced by razor points
The ground too cold to show its face
Ice on the patchy soil anoints.
A solitary soul, in woven white
Ekes out life in this hostile world
Where the sun glows bleak but bright
Where the snow is always swirled.
Feeding on the young shoots of grass
A rebel against the frost
In the land of this icy mountain pass
Where all strife and war is lost.
A peaceful creature, I meditate
In the bleak lands out here
About what it is that defines fate
Away from the butcher's fear.
Woolly and warm, despite the freeze
Far up on the mountain top
Free to wander, as I please
Something none can stop.
In alabaster fleece, I walk around
In the vice-grip of winter's hold
All upon the gelid ground
Serene, amongst the cold.
Where mountains spear the sky
Where all life merely shelter seeks
And the ground is cold and dry.
Where the snow cakes, in icy embrace
And clouds pierced by razor points
The ground too cold to show its face
Ice on the patchy soil anoints.
A solitary soul, in woven white
Ekes out life in this hostile world
Where the sun glows bleak but bright
Where the snow is always swirled.
Feeding on the young shoots of grass
A rebel against the frost
In the land of this icy mountain pass
Where all strife and war is lost.
A peaceful creature, I meditate
In the bleak lands out here
About what it is that defines fate
Away from the butcher's fear.
Woolly and warm, despite the freeze
Far up on the mountain top
Free to wander, as I please
Something none can stop.
In alabaster fleece, I walk around
In the vice-grip of winter's hold
All upon the gelid ground
Serene, amongst the cold.
The Song of a Cloud
I carry rain to regions far
As I float up on heavens high
To catch a glimpse of a lonely star
Shining bright in the frosty sky.
I am white, I am grey
I am woven, puffy, soft
I am beautiful but I cannot stay
I must always remain aloft.
My brother, the wind, he pushes me
Over all of the world below
When he blows hard, I must flee
To see new lands I must go.
Some of you humans can see shapes
In our wispy, puffy, forme
Like cigarette smoke that heaven vapes
That turns blue-grey in a storm.
And when we grow full of water
It causes us much pain
Then uin my nomadic ways I totter
And bless the earth as rain.
As I float up on heavens high
To catch a glimpse of a lonely star
Shining bright in the frosty sky.
I am white, I am grey
I am woven, puffy, soft
I am beautiful but I cannot stay
I must always remain aloft.
My brother, the wind, he pushes me
Over all of the world below
When he blows hard, I must flee
To see new lands I must go.
Some of you humans can see shapes
In our wispy, puffy, forme
Like cigarette smoke that heaven vapes
That turns blue-grey in a storm.
And when we grow full of water
It causes us much pain
Then uin my nomadic ways I totter
And bless the earth as rain.
A Digital Divide
A Digital Divide.
A land of acrid smoke and flower buds
Of exhaust pipes and viridan hues
An acerbic taste of pungent fumes
To join a redolence of exotic scents
Murky grey cement oozes out
Of a cerulean blue sky
Tinted by molten gold and dust.
Cars rumble down sheltered roads
With towering trees watching over
Like silent watchers in a world of ash
Where the soft smooth clay
Rich in the aroma of petrichor and dreams
Fuses with the smooth seams of fresh concrete jungles
This city runs like a cyborg
Power lines choked with ivy
Stemming forth from its iron heart
Like arteries through its body
Giving power to every cell
Every metal fortress
That rises behind the shrubs on the roadsides
As quarries carve into proud mountains
Holding its lifeblood triumphantly
To continue our expansion to our palace
Waiting for us on a cloud a million miles away
And King Farmland lost his domain
To be reduced to a mere peasant, hidden in the cool breeze and a solitary park
A paradox of cold cruel iron
And the welcoming cocoon of the vast
Between emerald grass and the glassy spires
It lies, a digital divide
A land of acrid smoke and flower buds
Of exhaust pipes and viridan hues
An acerbic taste of pungent fumes
To join a redolence of exotic scents
Murky grey cement oozes out
Of a cerulean blue sky
Tinted by molten gold and dust.
Cars rumble down sheltered roads
With towering trees watching over
Like silent watchers in a world of ash
Where the soft smooth clay
Rich in the aroma of petrichor and dreams
Fuses with the smooth seams of fresh concrete jungles
This city runs like a cyborg
Power lines choked with ivy
Stemming forth from its iron heart
Like arteries through its body
Giving power to every cell
Every metal fortress
That rises behind the shrubs on the roadsides
As quarries carve into proud mountains
Holding its lifeblood triumphantly
To continue our expansion to our palace
Waiting for us on a cloud a million miles away
And King Farmland lost his domain
To be reduced to a mere peasant, hidden in the cool breeze and a solitary park
A paradox of cold cruel iron
And the welcoming cocoon of the vast
Between emerald grass and the glassy spires
It lies, a digital divide
A Terrible Trivium
I sit here, in the shade
Colouring over a blank face
In a corner of a forgotten room
A silent, solitary place.
I am surrounded, fully
By a multitude of varied masks
That I wear around, as faces
For all of my daily tasks.
Masks for the happy
Masks that are pained
Masks that tell a story
Masks that look so strained.
Some see me in sadness or pride
I'm an ever-mercurial moodchanger
But most see the clouded face
Of a darkened unknown stranger.
In Solitude, I am pensive
I can be annoying, nice or mean
Anything from angry and broken
To relaxed, and all in between.
But this reserved introspection
Is triggered by a question, one
Who am I, to me
If all of these masks are none?
In this swirling diorama
Of the emotions of us all
Which face, which mood's facade
To my inner beings call?
The 21 pilots have theirs blurry
And Gary Jules' is worn out
But which face describes all of us
When ours is concealed throughout?
I think within of who we are
A phantom, a masked secret man?
Or is the need to hide our feelings
Part of some higher plan?
As I walk about the faces strewn
I see a little mask, far away
Obscured deep among the faces
Hidden by the shadows' interplay.
I feel like the mask, it beckons to me
I pick it up and see
It's plain and grey and nondescript
But it seems to suit to me.
In this chaotic spiral of emotion
I wear the mask upon my face
A wave of feelings batters me
And fills in the empty space.
I see and I feel, emotional bliss
This one is freedom's mask!
I think, "Is this the right one?"
But I needn't even ask.
From all of our selfimposed moods and faces
I'm liberated, at long last
The blankness within is filled with warmth
Masks are now a thing of the past!
I've shut down the need that society feeds
To hide the truth in blank stare
Now I'm free to express as I please
My choice which emotion to wear.
Colouring over a blank face
In a corner of a forgotten room
A silent, solitary place.
I am surrounded, fully
By a multitude of varied masks
That I wear around, as faces
For all of my daily tasks.
Masks for the happy
Masks that are pained
Masks that tell a story
Masks that look so strained.
Some see me in sadness or pride
I'm an ever-mercurial moodchanger
But most see the clouded face
Of a darkened unknown stranger.
In Solitude, I am pensive
I can be annoying, nice or mean
Anything from angry and broken
To relaxed, and all in between.
But this reserved introspection
Is triggered by a question, one
Who am I, to me
If all of these masks are none?
In this swirling diorama
Of the emotions of us all
Which face, which mood's facade
To my inner beings call?
The 21 pilots have theirs blurry
And Gary Jules' is worn out
But which face describes all of us
When ours is concealed throughout?
I think within of who we are
A phantom, a masked secret man?
Or is the need to hide our feelings
Part of some higher plan?
As I walk about the faces strewn
I see a little mask, far away
Obscured deep among the faces
Hidden by the shadows' interplay.
I feel like the mask, it beckons to me
I pick it up and see
It's plain and grey and nondescript
But it seems to suit to me.
In this chaotic spiral of emotion
I wear the mask upon my face
A wave of feelings batters me
And fills in the empty space.
I see and I feel, emotional bliss
This one is freedom's mask!
I think, "Is this the right one?"
But I needn't even ask.
From all of our selfimposed moods and faces
I'm liberated, at long last
The blankness within is filled with warmth
Masks are now a thing of the past!
I've shut down the need that society feeds
To hide the truth in blank stare
Now I'm free to express as I please
My choice which emotion to wear.
The Fall of a Dynasty
Ruin has fallen, the king is dead
A blight upon the reign of crowns
Birds in murmurations vast
Haunt the castle's glories past
Chants of blood in battles shed
Reverberate among the towns.
Now the valor is silent, hushed
And the dark pools are icy still
A sanguine bitter sunshine glows
Like the snipped thorns of a rose
The life of the noble ruler crushed
In the cruel winter chill.
From crimson lands, to valley south
The lord had conquered, bold
To meadows brimm'd with daffodils
And craggy rugged red foothills
From source of river till their mouth
All beneath his fold.
Yet his children live on, left behind
In his wintry castle, grand yet dour
Their telltale little footprints go
Like rabbit steps upon the snow
Trailing with the cobblestones lined
Ending at the royal tower.
I see them walking, in the yard
Beneath an ominous evening bell
Winter-bud faces, cherry vinous red
Warm boots into fresh snow tread
Are these little scions scarred
By loss of their father in winter spell?
Their bodies in coats are wan, frail
And as small as the falling flakes
As fragile as a twirling yellowed leaf
In the silent simmering burning grief
That boils amidst the frigid hail
When death a dear life takes.
The silence hangs above in grey
Like a soundless boundless sea
The light fades & a quiescent moon
Will see the bloom of a crocus soon
Where the king's noble soul will stay
Unaware of the land's austerity.
The littlest boy trips and falls in the snow
And when he turns his face to see
Upon the snowy mournful land
A ghost of a smile, a helping hand
His brother is there, his face aglow
Strong among the misery.
These children each bear a tiny fire
Burning like to smelt an iron rod
They keep it harboured in their souls
And in times even colder than poles
Ardor keeps them trudging, none shall tire
Even against breath of a vengeful god.
A blight upon the reign of crowns
Birds in murmurations vast
Haunt the castle's glories past
Chants of blood in battles shed
Reverberate among the towns.
Now the valor is silent, hushed
And the dark pools are icy still
A sanguine bitter sunshine glows
Like the snipped thorns of a rose
The life of the noble ruler crushed
In the cruel winter chill.
From crimson lands, to valley south
The lord had conquered, bold
To meadows brimm'd with daffodils
And craggy rugged red foothills
From source of river till their mouth
All beneath his fold.
Yet his children live on, left behind
In his wintry castle, grand yet dour
Their telltale little footprints go
Like rabbit steps upon the snow
Trailing with the cobblestones lined
Ending at the royal tower.
I see them walking, in the yard
Beneath an ominous evening bell
Winter-bud faces, cherry vinous red
Warm boots into fresh snow tread
Are these little scions scarred
By loss of their father in winter spell?
Their bodies in coats are wan, frail
And as small as the falling flakes
As fragile as a twirling yellowed leaf
In the silent simmering burning grief
That boils amidst the frigid hail
When death a dear life takes.
The silence hangs above in grey
Like a soundless boundless sea
The light fades & a quiescent moon
Will see the bloom of a crocus soon
Where the king's noble soul will stay
Unaware of the land's austerity.
The littlest boy trips and falls in the snow
And when he turns his face to see
Upon the snowy mournful land
A ghost of a smile, a helping hand
His brother is there, his face aglow
Strong among the misery.
These children each bear a tiny fire
Burning like to smelt an iron rod
They keep it harboured in their souls
And in times even colder than poles
Ardor keeps them trudging, none shall tire
Even against breath of a vengeful god.
To the stars in the night sky
The Earth drapes her like a veil
A motley cape, festooned with stars
A clear radiance, shining forth
Many-pointed light, lambent, but pale
From deepest reaches to neighbour Mars
And Polaris, a constant effulgence up north
Oh night! Vast are thy charms
Enthralling the atmosphere in black
A wonderful, velvety, lucid dim
Often has humankind spread his arms
To seek the answers that he may lack
And the expanse that appeals to him.
He watches the stars, an observer of fate
Though their light is cold & austere
It gives him an idea of his scale
How small he is, as the universe great
Bedecked in distant alien light, yet clear
For all his strength, he is still yet frail.
A distant flame before the sun
Burning up in space uncharted
Some can see constellations in their lines
But look well for the hidden ones
The space of constellations long departed
And their concealed remnant signs.
The magic of the stars lies not in their shapes
But rather the dark between
The shadows within their elusive light
The dark, where your mind can't escape
And instead wanders, forever keen
In inter galactic flight.
And thus man will surely find solace
In the heavens, where all seems naught
A dreamers' home, an eternal dance
The cosmos are a mystifying place
And the earth is but a pale blue dot
Staring up, in a bewitched trance.
A motley cape, festooned with stars
A clear radiance, shining forth
Many-pointed light, lambent, but pale
From deepest reaches to neighbour Mars
And Polaris, a constant effulgence up north
Oh night! Vast are thy charms
Enthralling the atmosphere in black
A wonderful, velvety, lucid dim
Often has humankind spread his arms
To seek the answers that he may lack
And the expanse that appeals to him.
He watches the stars, an observer of fate
Though their light is cold & austere
It gives him an idea of his scale
How small he is, as the universe great
Bedecked in distant alien light, yet clear
For all his strength, he is still yet frail.
A distant flame before the sun
Burning up in space uncharted
Some can see constellations in their lines
But look well for the hidden ones
The space of constellations long departed
And their concealed remnant signs.
The magic of the stars lies not in their shapes
But rather the dark between
The shadows within their elusive light
The dark, where your mind can't escape
And instead wanders, forever keen
In inter galactic flight.
And thus man will surely find solace
In the heavens, where all seems naught
A dreamers' home, an eternal dance
The cosmos are a mystifying place
And the earth is but a pale blue dot
Staring up, in a bewitched trance.
Wisdom
Sit down and listen, child, to the song of the cosmos.
Do you hear it? Can you taste it?
A faint woodland melody that begins at the pipes of Pan
And culminates in the thrumming of the rain
Do you hear it?
The sighs of a mourning seaside cave beside the almond sands
Booming its sorrows onto spectral alabaster cliffs
Can you taste it?
A lonely hymn, wrought out of tune
By the far-flung meandering winds
Do you hear it?
The chisels of the archaeologists of hope
Digging to unveil relics of what is yet to come
Can you taste it?
The last languish of a dazed wildfire
Obscured in the shadows of the smoke
Do you hear it?
The whispers of an old bent oak before the spring
The colours of life confiding in its branches again
Can you taste it?
The revolution at the tip of your tongue
And the storm that hides itself in the nib of your pen
All have their stories to tell
I may be old, and some day
This body will be forgotten
Like a decaying love letter stoppered in an old liquor bottle
But my soul will keep parading
Through all of empty space
Because, you see, child
The icecream you eat is swirled with chocolate
In the same way, our souls are swirled
With a heady blend of sunshine and emotion
Listen closely child
For the universe is confiding in you
Do you hear it?
Do you hear it? Can you taste it?
A faint woodland melody that begins at the pipes of Pan
And culminates in the thrumming of the rain
Do you hear it?
The sighs of a mourning seaside cave beside the almond sands
Booming its sorrows onto spectral alabaster cliffs
Can you taste it?
A lonely hymn, wrought out of tune
By the far-flung meandering winds
Do you hear it?
The chisels of the archaeologists of hope
Digging to unveil relics of what is yet to come
Can you taste it?
The last languish of a dazed wildfire
Obscured in the shadows of the smoke
Do you hear it?
The whispers of an old bent oak before the spring
The colours of life confiding in its branches again
Can you taste it?
The revolution at the tip of your tongue
And the storm that hides itself in the nib of your pen
All have their stories to tell
I may be old, and some day
This body will be forgotten
Like a decaying love letter stoppered in an old liquor bottle
But my soul will keep parading
Through all of empty space
Because, you see, child
The icecream you eat is swirled with chocolate
In the same way, our souls are swirled
With a heady blend of sunshine and emotion
Listen closely child
For the universe is confiding in you
Do you hear it?
Turnabout
Dear 2017,
Your swansong stems forth from my heart like a baleful paean.
Forever enshrined like a bitter end in the tectonic plates of my mind
Your memories persist, helplessly stranded like a beached whale.
You wield an arcane, bizarre nostalgia, traced out across the months like an unsteady hand with a crayon.
I forgot how to count my blessings, instead I dwelt on my disasters, inevitably returning to them; like salmon, bound to return, always.
But in this rollicking roller-coaster, I learnt quite a bit.
It's been a cycle of ups and downs and mostly in-betweens.
---
I had a burnished sliver dream, remnant from ages hence.
Painting passionate password prayers to ever-hungry fate.
Spreading my hopes thin, like diffused incense
Whispering salvation dreams to heaven’s gate.
As the days move on, and the wheel of time spins
Like a midnight tango across a silent square
Playing into the tunes of long-buried sins
Where the vapid breeze blows through your hair
A scuffed sepia mane, coated with squalor
Singing the lackluster rhythm of the streets
Glassy eyes, and a deathly pallor
Praying for plagues in unsteady beats.
But slowly I climb, into a brand new day
The bright sun heralding my rise
My struggles began slowly to fall away
Reaching for the open azure skies.
And I begin to learn things afresh, anew
With the gold-flecked eyes of a revelation
A whimsical reverie in motley hue
Stemming forth towards aspiration.
And the cut-throat bleeding sunsets
Like a languid wave of vermillion red
Begin to conceal no more regrets
They contain hope instead.
Parading shrapnel memories used to congeal
Into bizarre, disfigured dreams
But that no longer describes how I feel
As my thoughts now shatter seams.
But even as I reached this high
I failed to look beneath
And this soul, which was ready to fly
Disappears into the yawning abyss’ teeth.
Stranded at the bottom, struggling to ascend
Smashed dreams leaking out dusty dollar-store lips
Locked in artificial nocturne, convinced that it’s the end
Trapped beneath a neon moon, in dim eclipse.
But as I play, entangling my way
Into kaleidoscopic strains of vacuous thorns
Escape from the bottom, for that I pray
As my heart is impaled on sorrow’s horns.
How then, do I escape this endless pit
Of a cycle of despair and sorrow
What if, from these thorns I can split
By looking up to tomorrow?
Then I taste the metallic tang of a coming storm
And I feel that I possess this power
To break out of this piteous form
And grow up to the sun like a flower!
As I climb the ladder to the sky
To where my soul once soared
I feel like I have the strength to fly
Difficulties again ignored.
As I climb toward that golden world
Slowly filling with ecstasy and bliss
I can feel my soul is with sunshine swirled
I’ve clawed my way out the abyss.
I’m coming up again.
Your swansong stems forth from my heart like a baleful paean.
Forever enshrined like a bitter end in the tectonic plates of my mind
Your memories persist, helplessly stranded like a beached whale.
You wield an arcane, bizarre nostalgia, traced out across the months like an unsteady hand with a crayon.
I forgot how to count my blessings, instead I dwelt on my disasters, inevitably returning to them; like salmon, bound to return, always.
But in this rollicking roller-coaster, I learnt quite a bit.
It's been a cycle of ups and downs and mostly in-betweens.
---
I had a burnished sliver dream, remnant from ages hence.
Painting passionate password prayers to ever-hungry fate.
Spreading my hopes thin, like diffused incense
Whispering salvation dreams to heaven’s gate.
As the days move on, and the wheel of time spins
Like a midnight tango across a silent square
Playing into the tunes of long-buried sins
Where the vapid breeze blows through your hair
A scuffed sepia mane, coated with squalor
Singing the lackluster rhythm of the streets
Glassy eyes, and a deathly pallor
Praying for plagues in unsteady beats.
But slowly I climb, into a brand new day
The bright sun heralding my rise
My struggles began slowly to fall away
Reaching for the open azure skies.
And I begin to learn things afresh, anew
With the gold-flecked eyes of a revelation
A whimsical reverie in motley hue
Stemming forth towards aspiration.
And the cut-throat bleeding sunsets
Like a languid wave of vermillion red
Begin to conceal no more regrets
They contain hope instead.
Parading shrapnel memories used to congeal
Into bizarre, disfigured dreams
But that no longer describes how I feel
As my thoughts now shatter seams.
But even as I reached this high
I failed to look beneath
And this soul, which was ready to fly
Disappears into the yawning abyss’ teeth.
Stranded at the bottom, struggling to ascend
Smashed dreams leaking out dusty dollar-store lips
Locked in artificial nocturne, convinced that it’s the end
Trapped beneath a neon moon, in dim eclipse.
But as I play, entangling my way
Into kaleidoscopic strains of vacuous thorns
Escape from the bottom, for that I pray
As my heart is impaled on sorrow’s horns.
How then, do I escape this endless pit
Of a cycle of despair and sorrow
What if, from these thorns I can split
By looking up to tomorrow?
Then I taste the metallic tang of a coming storm
And I feel that I possess this power
To break out of this piteous form
And grow up to the sun like a flower!
As I climb the ladder to the sky
To where my soul once soared
I feel like I have the strength to fly
Difficulties again ignored.
As I climb toward that golden world
Slowly filling with ecstasy and bliss
I can feel my soul is with sunshine swirled
I’ve clawed my way out the abyss.
I’m coming up again.
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