A Walk in Verse

Tuesday, October 28

Emily Dickinson: There Is A Word

There is a word
Which bears a sword
Can pierce an armed man -
It hurls its barbed syllables,
And is mute again-
But where it fell
The saved will tell
On patriotic day,
Some epauletted Brother
Gave his breath away.

Wherever runs the breathless sun -
Wherever roams the day -
There is its victory!
Behold the keenest marksman!
The most accomplished shot!
Time's sublimest target
Is a soul "forgot!"

Monday, October 27

Hallow Eve Night

Death,
Life -
Swings by.
Eerie Night
When the spirits fly,
The soul emphatically dies.
No screams, or outcries as it passes on by - surprise!
Carried into the bottomless abyss; terror fills, the Jack-o'-lantern wins tonight.

Rumi: Rules of Love

"God is a meticulous clock maker.
So precise is His order
that everything on earth
happens in its own time.
Neither a minute late
nor a minute early.

And for everyone without exception,
the clock works accurately.
For each there is
a time to love
and a time to die."

Let's Swing

Baby let down your hair,
Get off the chair,
Let the music shine
As we swing sublime.

Let the time fly
Like the roaring flame;
The hours pass by,
As we dance and rave.

Jump and jive,
You and me alive
Having a wonderful time
As we swing sublime.

Beauty to our ears,
Our worries surmised:
For tonight joyful tears
As we dance until the sunrise.

Like the roll of the dice,
We glide as ice
Listening to the piano fly –
You and me baby, swing sublime!

Sunday, October 26

The Last King

Movement:
    Like the drifting withered leaf,
    Crumpled and dry as it sweeps
    Down the tree’s limb in agony.

Scorched:
    Like a ship sinking into the never ending sea:
    A tomb sunken twenty leagues deep.
    Silent, not a whisper seen.
    Her corpses: rotted flesh is her ecstasy.

Falling:
    Like the leaf of the tree,
    Without a sound, no one can see
    The light escapes between the scene.
    Only anguish for this last reigning king.

The Last Two Weeks

Tired
And beat,
Frustrated
Beyond belief.
Driven to madness,
Filled with anxiety –
Torrential downpour on me.
Nothing except insanity
With the last twenty five days I breathed.
I can now see the future before me.

Saturday, October 25

Rumi: The Voice of Love

Every moment the voice of Love
is coming from left and right.
We are bound for heaven:
Who has a mind to sight seing?

We have been in heaven,
we have been friends
of the angels;
Thither, Sire, let us return,
for that is our country.

I was on that day
when the Names were not,
Nor any sign of existence
endowed with name,

By me Names and Named
were brought to view
On the day
when there was not
"I and We",
For the sign,
the tip of the beloved's curl
became a centre of revelation;

As yet the tip of that curl was not.
Cross and Christians,
from end to end,
I surveyed;
He was not on the Cross,
I went to idol temple,
to the ancient pagoda;
No trace was visible there.

I went to the mountains of
Herat and Candahar;
I looked;
He was not in
that hill-and-dale.

I gaze into my own heart;
There I saw Him;
He was nowhere else.

Tuesday, October 21

This World

Standing at the gates of hell:
No hope,
No peace,
No serenity.
Emptiness consumes
As the world decays around me.

I sit and stare into the sphere of darkness;
No God,
No light –
Only death singing throughout my mind,
Spinning into a sea of torment,
Capsizing any kindness within my sight.

Darkness surrounds my every step:
The day, no longer seen.
   The sun no longer felt upon my face.
   Only rains of torment
   Cover the path in which I take.

I am held against my will,
Controlled by the forces surrounding me;
They destroy with every breath I take.
I am no longer allowed to be free.

I have become nothing
As my world shatters beneath my feet.
I fall into the darkness of calamity
Surrounded by a million pieces of emptiness.

A world of godlessness
Embeds into my face;
It rips the flesh from me;
It takes my breath replacing it with chaos
– Pain becomes my opening to the world of the insane.

Murder

Murder,
Charming deceit:
Taking without conscience.
Chaos, heartbreak, calamity:
Lawless.

Why I Write

To reflect on the days that slipped on by,
To grasp the reality of my travel through time.
To understand the meaning of what is called life,
To comprehend all of my daily lived strife.

To leave behind the things that I have seen,
To learn what my reality might bring
As I leave a trail of thoughts and dreams;
I list all of my unimaginable realities.

So that “they” can understand the trials I faced,
Like the sun beating down on the desert's barren landscape.
I write for future generations to learn
From the mistakes us men have churned.

So I write.

Monday, October 20

The Clock

The clock ticks,
the hour has struck;
I just realized
that my life is stuck.

Nowhere to run,
and nowhere to hide
- I'm sunk!
The clock just struck.

One, two, three and four
it continues on
in death defying horror,
more mundane than the hour before.

Five, six, seven and eight
I plead, let me escape
this vacancy of time
that just drifts on by.

Nine, ten, eleven and twelve,
I meditate to release the pain
of time passing by with no escape.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, goes the Clock.

Deceivers

Liars,
No honesty.
At all cost they deceive –
Inflicting pain without conscience,
Charmers.

Tuesday, October 7

Cutting

Open slit
Down through the wrist
I watch the liquid fly.

Red as flames,
Burning twist,
The wood will finally die.

Charcoal grey,
Black as night,
My skin shall finally fail.

I'm dead,
Yet I remain;
Another slit, and I'm alive.

Sunday, October 5

Alone

Murderous rage traverses my veins
As darkness encompass my gait.

Revenge shines through the dim room light,
Interwoven with deadly delight.

A shattered life is my gift shinning bright
As I scream out into the deafness of night - alone.

Pages