All alone in my silent confessions
long I have dwelt on secret battles fought,
and poison arrows of those obsessions
alas might pierce my last refuge methought.
But having crossed my Rubicon I wait
in new beginnings, in love’s boons to be
where new battles will rage and punctuate
the fullness of time in his century.
To that cause I am heart and soul aware
and exceptional favour bears me more,
that in my time I’ll have a son and heir
who fills in me what was missing before.
Soon I will hail on a day still to dawn
to me a millennia child is born.
Written: January 2000
For Oscar
Categories:
methought, baby, birth, devotion, son,
Form: Sonnet
Awakening with heart and mind a-spin,
methought midst some psychotic malady.
"What hellish afterlife am I now in"?
Yon passerby said "2023".
Eyes fixed on "mobile phones" with no regret,
here, plays are viewed at home on a "TV",
events viewed from afar by "internet",
and almost no one reading poetry.
In thund'rous flight, huge metal birds (bizarre!)
at heights and speeds not for the faint at heart.
A carriage (with no horse!) they call a "car",
and huge emporiums they call "Wal-Mart".
One thing unchanged from 1594:
a tyrant's greed still thrusts men into war.
Written 13 Jan 2023
Categories:
methought, society,
Form: Sonnet
The word freedom is a guilt
due to its somehows and whys
even nature mirrages so
family of months and days
as one yet, it is such apt
to melt, methought stone is hard
October year has good views
if it is fancied as supposed
and let that a turning through
and same number four year an
even a better of two?
let in summer and winter
the earth is a fine nature
of a place to behold love
if the object is peace here
peace here and there or throughout
a journey one that should be kept....
Categories:
methought, love,
Form: Free verse
Once upon an outhouse dreary, while I strained there, lank and leery
of creatures scary down beneath the privy floor--
As my veins were close to popping, suddenly there came a whopping
rush of air, but nothing dropping, dropping from my nethers sore,
“'Tis but a sputter", I then mutter, “popping like the thunder's roar--
only this and nothing more!”
Ah, succinctly I remember - a distinctly warm September;
for bath tissue I dismember - an issue from the hardware store.
Eagerly I wish for passing - that which had been amassing
in my numbles far surpassing - any grumbles heretofore
A gassing foul and shameless to deplore
Nameless here for evermore
Then, methought the air grew smelly, perfumed from my askew belly
The fumes of fish stew from the deli, like the breath of Balthazor
“Wretch,” I cried, “as God hath bent me—by what devils hath he sent thee?
Respite – respite! No more! Some forthright output, I implore!
Purge, oh purge this burning urge I'm yearning for!”
Shall I potty... Nevermore?
With apologies to EAP.
Categories:
methought, word play,
Form: Rhyme
After the hurricane
Washed upon the shore, I lay
Motionless in a slow delay
Quivering thoughts at play
I wonder, when shall I be free from this
This dream that I've dreamt
A storm within my soul
I wish it would quiten, be soft
Ushering words being spoken
Within me, something seems broken
A stone in my throat
My being trying to dispel it
The wind is roaring..
The spirits are nigh
I hear almost a whisper
As I lay there wide
'don't give up' she says
'who is this' methought
Wonder not, just heed
'wake up, your alive' she says
But I'm awake, am I not?
Is this paradise?
'heed my call and wake up now!'
I can't, my body is paralyzed
Sand all around me as far I can see
Oh the roughness I feel
It's imprinted upon my face
'wake up!' I hear again
It's her, a light silhouette I see
It's her, I've waited for you, forever
Something feels heavy
Oh it's me inside my body
Weary and feel tied down
Can't shake off this feeling
I need to see her
An angel in being
Engulfed in light
'no longer shall you be here,
wake up at once! '
I open my eyes to see
It was all but a dream...
Categories:
methought, dream, imagery, nostalgia, ocean,
Form: Free verse
The Dead poet---lord alfred douglas
I dreamed of him last night,I saw his face
All radiant and unshadowed of distress,
And as of old, in music measureless,
Heard his golden voice and marked him trace
Under the common thing the hidden grace, a
And conjure wonder out of emptiness,
And all the world was an enchanted place.
And then methought outside a locked gate
I mourned the loss of unrecord words,
Forgotten tales and mysteries half said,
wonders that might have been articulate,
And so I woke and knew that he was dead.
Categories:
methought, death, poets,
Form: Free verse
On this very velvet night,
He went out in despair;
When having walked paces few,
He found her lying there:
There she lay, in a velvet robe--
All path seemed unaware--
He caught a glimpse of her silhouete,
And just stood staring there...
He waited on her to come to life,
Having lost all sense;
And well, she did as he prayed
Then cried sounding tense:
"Who goes-by here"(she asked in dark),
Hearing which he replied:
"'tis I, just a passer-by",
"Methought that you were died",
"I have my cottage just around",
"Come in if you don't mind",
"For it's a pretty vicious night...."
She uttered, "You are kind"...
And in she came--He sat to rest--
She drew out a knife,
Stabbed him thrice, with an awry smile
And cried, "I come to take your life"...
It sure was a vicious night,
That wore a velvet hide:
He saw Death dancing in her eyes,
An' then promptly died...
Categories:
methought, mystery
Form: Quatrain