A smiling clown walks timid on tightened rope
And peers down thinking this day might be last;
The face of fear begs in frightened hope
As relentless laughter demands to move fast!
When the clown’s descent endows
The eyes with moment of great fall,
Boom! Goes Death, and humour bows
On knees bruised to crawl.
Sunken deep in whatever is felt
by fleeting grief,
Remarks: “He was a fool; it was to be a
Sudden leap that would make
his living brief!”
And so, from the first to this last fall,
Death makes a Comedy of us all.
are rightfully decided
on great thoughts of gold,
but by actions blighted:
no similar story told.
Other choices, although maligned,
deemed most kind.
But by the shining of a moment
awareness is afforded,
leaving the most secure actors
in acts contorted.
So, the dark,
in all its magnanimity
plays our secret muse,
for acts would not be
if light fully shown
on what we choose.
And I wanted danger in clashes of violence,
to break comfort with the frightened awareness rewarded from no reversing.
And I craved a madness where Pain would sculpt soft edges sharp
and rust shine proudly on spirit well-traversing.
And from the engine of a heartbeat cast a smog so dense it polluted the sun itself and the whole world became tarred with my choices that wrought it so thoroughly into my now swarming nature;
Wanted nothing at all but adventure onto death.
Travelling through a trail enlightened;
surely, many rewards to be gained
when led in hope and un-frightened,
but the longer the roads,
the heavier hope grows
and soon needs to be shed;
or else the path, turned laborious,
may leave a traveller misled,
and prospect of reward, now spurious,
can render all the goals dead.
The stairs here go down
What a shallow realization!
For what’s deepest
Is not always profound
And from a step
A fool was crowned.
Those restless moments before sleep have a-blazed tonight
And from four corners drew a room wherein
A flicker of sense and 2 gallons of heated emotion
Spilled into the most craving cavity.
To wake up, to disappear from illusion
As if curse enlightened some inner truth of character;
Certainly, a tender meat luring animals inching closer
To better hear harmonies of sentiments pulsing.
I am not satisfied, now wanting, wherein wanton
Becomes of me in forced flight,
And left as if altitude stranded what is most heavy,
Which by another name...
Steady, rich, fertile; such are properties of
An earth where a predator searches, yearns
To be scorched, scorned, adorned
With the presence of those things that cause a pressure
Forceful enough to advance onto living futures,
Or the most alluring prey.
In violence, struck and crossed, etched a mark on wood,
On paper a pool of ink, for that ancient story blessed a symbol;
Engraved a line between two sides maintained by
A tempo dances to new fear, hope, love, hate.
To deny them and yet to also give life all the same;
It's that which truth and corruption,
Haunted and hunted, damn silently by name:
I have a place kept locked;
where your shadow
contains my hidden movements.
Unknown to you, I rest there, waiting,
perhaps playing in the anticipation
I'm hoping you sense
the activity of wonder
through the tone of my voice
when I'm speaking of all the things
you hold dear - the things I'm hoping
will be in your power to destroy.
Slowly the clockwork ticks
into resolve, directing the cogs
in new alignment,
ticking down the hierarchy between me and you.
That bastard, that bastard!
The wilderness- that breathing,
keeps traces of me
in laughter, love, hate,
and always, always, repeating.
Repetition - that blasted relief.
The dark spot, the one held for me,
no longer holds your comforts.
All has left,
as was expected.
But what has been kept?
Deep, beautiful becoming.
For what you were unaware
was a signing of a contract
to make you not a person
but a process,
I saw you content,
and then i crawled away in shame.
Nothing could have escaped the anger of
backs have broken
carrying the inevitable regret.
Can i rebuild?
I found your presence so comforting, but then
you shattered it before me to reveal
transparency. Like a fool,
i was exposed to the meaning of quicksand.
Can i become better?
I've held on long, looking at your shapes
as i ran finger tips across
the dimensions of desire.
You slowly disappeared in that geometry,
giving form to another world; beyond me.
Can i destroy?
I waited, lonely, in idleness
to receive you. It's true, i was awarded,
but in a million ways i was punished.
Then your silence leavened the coarseness,
see you a final time, in resolution.
"Can i change you?"
You kept repeating the greed
to yourself, through me,
until it became extinct
Sealed in a passage
Bearing hallowed name;
The highest blood
Privileges one to attain
The shine of a mechanism
And its demand of respect;
Blessed by secret passions
For the cursed elect;
Hopeful for the quick grace
Of sharp victory,
While the chambers are without their monarch
Who capsized fortune
In the sea of history.
Play now with absolved steps, small spirit;
Your unbound labour shapes character,
Offering breath to fiction's eager ghost;
And to those bloated with misfortune,
Therefore drowning in dark cravings:
The narrators provide stories of past honour
To stay afloat through courage
Only afforded by mystery;
Indeed, none better can so swim
In what orators give to war and misery.
The new masters replaced the garden's tree;
With captured fruit
Curiosity grew another
In aimless ancestry;
The new breed also sprouts and ripens
In this strange but blighted Arcadia,
Where they will be called monsters
According to laws
Ready for them to rebel,
And where is the sleeping God?
It has been excised as well.
Thus the church bells ring in hollowed tones;
Barren, hungry -
Gorging on responsibility,
They choke as if they've swallowed bones.
The crushing strength held
Onto such delicate conviction-
It is Truth that bears
This most hidden vice,
And this they dearly harbour
Beyond shallow paradise,
And even farther
From haunted Golgotha;
Hence, the new resolute will:
Building an endless bridge,
Conquering distance en route nihil.
If you had the knowledge, small spirit,
Would you continue?
For your motivation will interpret the future earth,
But it will be far
From the origin within you.