A thought in passing

I'm a man
who entertains myself
best
with thought-
though a fallacy,
I profess!
See,
they hold no weight,
it is shown
as truth,
but mere conjecture
for their proof
and best of all
is saved
for last-
that this is
no more
than damn
and blast!

Lilith

Life
is not life as we know it
but rather
it is sleep
for the life that follows
is our true life
and it is the life
eternal.

For the birds

I wrote this a few days ago, it was night, I couldn't give the particulars, but it was fairly late and I was, as always, suffering the cold of the front room for the purposes of some senseless distraction. (From what, we are all entitled to ask...) Sometimes I yearn for company, and sometimes it makes me furious. This was a case of the latter, but as every one else slept, the birds sang, and it was for them that I grew courage to write. Some other things were occurring within my mind, too, they shall not be divulged.

Sing, Bird,
sing.
Your voice fills
this ill lit room
and spreads about
the still strewn out carcasses
that have lingered here
since yesterday.
Idling by, they stretch
across sofa and chairs.
Though the sun is sank,
sent to
with the hearkening
of night-
Steady night
I look to you
for comfort
for answer
for escape,
and birds beckon mind:
"Take flight!"
as they lull me to them
drowsily,
alert to my exhaustion
I surrender
to the commingling
of the cold night and
the heat against my back.
   To the absence
and noise; to the
insular aspect of
company; to
feigning smiles and eyes
that search for love
and where they lock,
find none.
   To treachery.
To never being right.
For innumerable
pressure and sense:
   I surrender...
while the birds
yet call me home.

To you, to those...

I've been writing here and there, little things, mostly, on my way to somewhere else or during transient stages where I'm not really fully dedicated to my cause. It becomes easier to write lots of little then it is a little lot.

Well, I've not been on 'here', but here are some things that are little and may, one day, become more then they were. Probably not.

How can we get better

than perfection?

What more is there

than this?

The love we share-

the way we fuck-

and the highest aim

of our human race

is unity.

                                                                                   *

If you live

for a lie

it is for a lie

you die

To Hellen

This is just a work in progress. I wrote it rather quickly when an idea came to mind as I watched an old movie. The idea, is that I thought about the adversity of willingly looking upon the corpse of a recently deceased lover. Would our dreams become plagued with their face? The verb can be exchanged with the metaphorical 'looking' deeper into one's existence and will. The corpse does not necessarily need not to be breathing. The titular female is a reference to the archetype of all unfathomable/unreachable beauty, and also, a play on the phrase "To Hell and back"...

Do I dare to look upon thee?
What sacred cinders
remain
nearly burning deep
within your eyes.
To see the face
that will forever
haunt me-
the inescapable crutch
of your demise.
What love, for whom
there exists no fight
too great in size,
no wager, 'cept life
too great to bet-
and even then...
   How does one plunge
unto the very depths
and hold expectations
to return as was-
to survive.
I am no hero
-no Orpheus-
and fate would prove
too great
for even he.
There is no place
that yet remains
will be left
unperturbed;
no memory that holds
its one true form
of beauty
will ever be
un-marred, untouched
and left justly so
as always was
in life.

Purgatory

I'd been writing this poem intermittently for the past week or so- during which time I'd also been busy doing other things, and forgetting what I was meant  to be doing, finding life all a little too easy. Well, the basic idea I had was to describe a situation where an irksome young man wanders restlessly down the 'beaten track' until he loses his way; fascinated with the strange and eerie glow of his surroundings, he wanders away from his path, as though being led, to arrive at lake of excruciating beauty. Here he rests for an eternity, and never again finds his way home. I had to compromise, due to some time and responsibility constraints, to give what I have here, but most surely will go back to it  to add more of the feeling I want it to carry.

I awoke one day to find

the sun shone in my room,

with such a dazzling radiance

to penetrate my gloom;

that I had come to feel so much

since the summer was eschewed

and with its passing so did end

the innocence of youth,

for I had grown to know a love

that sullied as it bloomed,

resplendent as it ought to’ve been

the truth had it coloured crude;

and with the cooling of our climes

my passions also cooled

as I swore I’d never feel again

and sent them to the tomb.

Yet here I were so suddenly,

roused by warmth of  sun,

and so little perturbed by misery

I went in search of love.

Initially I ambled

to the risen sun in sky,

and birds, they did sing loftily

as they swept and then flew high.

First I walked along a path

and then encroached

upon the heath,

I passed through bush and bramble

as my mind gave way to feet,

as I seemed to follow a dreary route

walked before but still unseen.

And turning, saw that I was lost,

no trodden sod before me,

only misty wilderness

‘cased by intrepid shrubbery.

The path I walked had gotten so dark

that now no light pervaded,

and walking it I did perceive

I was trapped by a green

that left me jaded.

So with nothing more ado

but what it is I‘d done,

I set to a most determined pace

and simply carried on.

"Wrap’t in solitary thought

I walked

through the very deluge

of night

with a keen insight

and a prosperous mind

poised

toward beauty

and truth"

It all seemed to me

no mystery,

no phantoms did I find-

but only thick and thicker trees

and others of their kind

all stood next to one another

so many in a row

and hedges rose from in-between,

all this I saw as I did go

trouncing out my legacy

I was a pioneer

and though the density had swallowed light

I was bolstered by my fear.

I gave a laugh to think just then

how superstitious id become

to think the walls were moving in

or that id nearly thought to run,

and in their growing mockery,

or just to bring me down,

a branch id missed did cut me

deep across the crown;

the roots; they seemed more rigid

and the grass it did grow thick

and every once my clothes did catch

upon a grasping stick

as like limbs they did reach out,

and surely now were closer

so that I was again so full of dread

and the trees; they towered over.

Eventually I came to think

my way looked to be clearing,

exasperated, as I was

a weight was lifted as I were nearing

what I thought to presume to be

a lake that looked endearing.

Oh! Happy life

and grateful chance

to see such a lake appearing!

Addled and perspiring, I wept

then wiped my brow,

to see a break within their flanks

that I found, not knowing how.

Yet feeling it were a haven;

nestled away and safe,

there it was I fell to sleep

for what appeared to me like days.

First I dreamed of finer things

the fancies of infancy and grace,

never before had I known such peace

as when I laid down in that place;

in the arms of mine own enemy:

the persistent green that remained.

And as I lay, most surely,

my countenance did change-

for I felt as though I’d died

and died for such an age.

All such worries of my life

did rise and rise again,

and just as swift as they did come,

they’d sooner drift away,

leaving me to their successor

and my own indelible pain-

though every pain that came to me,

as numerous as rains,

did only last a moment

before their feeling was replaced.

I slept half an eternity,

and in that time did break

all of my thoughts and sufferings;

the little and the great.

And as each passed

I was reminded

how fickle they became,

still sleeping, so astoundingly,

as though the bed had been my grave.

Yet forever reassured I was,

though unable to awake,

that for every hurt

I thought to feel,

a greater one remained.

And in time they each became

 much smaller than my pleasure:

a pleasure sourced so strange;

a pleasure never known before,

as it were only carved from pain,

and so there sat upon my gait

an expression with no name.

There it was I grew so chilled

I screamed myself: “Awake!”

I gave a yawn and brushed myself

then finally did rise,

I looked about to get my bearings

the faceless mass did meet my eyes,

and I roved for a gap in the border;

the one through which I came

and finding it was nowhere

thought how I was trapped

as to be like game.

I travelled first with caution

along my perimeter to see,

and then again in reverse

but somewhat more quickly

this I did but ten times

thinking I had erred

but always left concluding

my way was deeply barred.

The path I took was overgrown

and now stood tall and wild

and just as dense as everywhere

they were as savage giants to a child.

Desperately. I pleaded:

“Will you not let me go!”

and there they swayed so silently

that I knew it for a ‘no’.

I walked myself to the edge of the lake

and crumbled to the floor

first I gazed out listlessly

and then with some furore

at how beautiful the water was

and in it, what I saw;

my wretched, limpid, exhausted face

scratched and beaten raw

and behind me, growing taller

stretched trees from sky to floor;

such was flipped my reflection

so that I knew it showed a truth;

that any way I looked at it

there was nary a way through.

And the water softly sparkled

with its placid siren’s call

blacker than any earthly thing

and I shone through its pall.

 Then everything was still

I clamoured for nought the more

but gave myself to purgatory

finally,

forever,

all.

Hello, to you...

Please remain faithful; I've been ever so busy trying to overcome my ennui- I find myself fatigued so very easily, but work is in the process and I promise you something wonderful soon!
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