The Beautiful Impossible 8-20-26
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A Vision of Camelot
Above your dark and twisting
Tangled trail of cobwebs
Where blinding mists
Sting like shame
Shining towers rise!
They capture the daystar’s fingers
Caressing
These bright crowns of covenant
With golden diadems of amber fire
So bright
The sky ignites the coming sunrise
With vows in brilliant glow.
Gaze deep into this heart
Of crystal fire
Transfixed
Enthralled
Transformed
By yearning
For the refining core
Where secret fires forge dreams
And visions meld into the mystic
Birthing spellbound castles
This unspoiled siren’s song,
A wingless bird of hope,
Flies
Flawless
Just above
Just beyond
Beyond your fingertips.
How majestic God is in our lives,
El Shaddai, mighty, strong, He thrives.
Raise the banner, lift it high,
Let praises echo to the sky.
Shout aloud, the victory ours,
Breakthrough God, His field empowers.
In this key time, we remain,
A remnant holding vision plain.
Pray with faith, stake your claim,
Take your fields in Jesus’ name.
Paths will open, fresh and new,
A panoramic, wider view.
Sing a melody never sung,
A song of triumph on every tongue.
Let the streets resound with praise,
New access granted, new favour raised.
I don't choose the muse
the muse chooses me
and when she appears
between my ears
I adopt the writer's role
and follow her
down the rabbit hole
never knowing
what I may find
is on my mind
but in time if I'm content
when penning punny poetry
with what passes for a poem
then it's good enough for me
With apologies to Lewis Carroll (1832 – 1898)
now wafered soundlessness is Lamb
yet diamond piercing His fleece
a lark offers sotto tones as harmony
cupped in dualism
wings flutter where it quintessentially quiver
hovering expectant for another silent mission
I am just sitting here vision casting..
one pirouette in hope
spun out on daydreams
frail pointe shoes
cold tears that stain
guffaws in excess
my board never cracks
I’ve come so far
I’m not ever going back
a leap soars
brand is established
instantly tagged and owned
watched not copied
eye contact
everything crafted
always …ALWAYS…relentless.
Men with cameras
Sit and wait for the sunsets
Poets see all day.
Sunsets originally published in Tap into Poetry Magazine, 2026, all rights reserved
I was not born to walk the line,
I was born to redraw the map.
Where others waited for the light,
I learned to shine in the dark.
They said the road was already made,
I chose the forest instead.
They followed footprints in the sand,
I followed the voice in my head.
The world may not remember the crowd,
It remembers the ones who dared.
Not the one who feared the fall,
But the one who learned to fly.
So build your road where none exists,
Write your name across the sky.
The future belongs to those
Who dare to create, not imitate.
Be still and absorb the sound
of serene tranquility.
A silence so loud, it's never heard on the glisten of the sea, or the spectrum of the rainbow, so quiet that light escapes to travel just to hear its colors.
The magnificent wind drifts. Sometimes forever until it catches itself, flowing through the weeps of a Willow only to hear the chaotic whispers harmoniusly falling one by one on the wings of doves.
The visions of this Cathedral silence enlightens the sweetest of mutes. Colorful and silent. They see in awe the beauty of serenity.
So quiet that an orchestra builds in numbers.
Carefully draped across a the waves of a faint breeze a sparkle of silk leads to a design only an artist could weave.
Very delicate. And a wonderous sight to behold this magnificent gallery was designed in the silence of the night.
Where landscapes come alive and the painter of light finds true inspiration. And whilst the world closes and lovers , love in silent
The writer and poet, that sits on high, can smile in silence.
Old ruby glasses
warmed the world to match my wish,
softened every edge.
Staining the panes guilty red,
with light beaming inside me.
I don smart glasses
to smooth away awkward things
with bright white captions—
names, prices, warnings, labels—
until all is declared shamed.
Yet nothing has changed.
The older glass and new code
serve the same old eye.
persuade the incoming light
to return what it answered.
A tree becomes mine:
memory, fear, weather, want,
all falling on it.
The lens never changed the tree;
The bark shows my fingerprints.
Once I took them off.
The world refused to explain
itself to my eyes.
It had yet to find an eye
that could see without glasses
For this tempting wish most fall.
Once they've met their dream vision
Will so go on to call.
Does spirit, of its beauty
Now clothed, as clouded over
Still bare what's heavenly?
I'm on a mission
A vision to liberate my people
But they named me a villain
Because they're villagers
That mission turns me
Into a stranger in my home land
Because they're scared of their shadow
Keeping them shallow
Swallowing the truth
So they live in deceit
What's easy
Settling for the least
Because of the test
They avoid the best
Now they live without rest
Because they're consumers
Not producers
Whatever they get
They spend a lot
They wander about
Even just for a meal
Creativity they don't seal
Mediocrity their deals
Trying to fix the past
That's already known
Instead of facing the future
That's unknown
They're afraid of bad days
Even nature face this stage
Forgetting nature always nurtures us
Showing us according to our thrive
What you give you get
Maybe you're sharing
Or probably you stole
That's gonna put sore in your soul
Instead of becoming whole
You become a wolf
Not to devour an enemy
But self devourers.
The last of us
meander in rolling hills
by the misty stream
tinkling round slate rocks.
A doll size cottage
hewn of ancient limestone
silhouetted in rainbow flares
creeks and rumbles forlorn.
Withered lace murmurs languid
framed by dark embrasures.
We enter the void
over a parquet threshold
to greet mirrored visions
in ever rewinding portals
that unveil the stories
of our dreams unlived.
I saw you only once.
You were draped in a saree,
The cerulean colour of the sea-waves,
Your hair was in braids,
Reminded me of the darkest cloud in the rainy season,
Your face was devoid of any embellishment,
Your body was not adorned with ornaments,
As if you, the woman of my dream, my treasured beloved,
had risen from the bottom of the ocean,
Only for me.
I felt numb when I found you,
You are the one I was searching for all my life,
an image of perfection I envisioned,
You are the one who I want to cherish all my life,
You are the one I feel fortunate to be with,
You are right in front of me,
But you are not mine!
Where were you so long, which corner of the universe?
Why did I never have a chance to meet you?
May be on the sandy shores of Arabian Sea,
Why not in a far corner of Thor desert?
Why didn’t you appear to me under the canopy of a starlit sky,
wiping all darkness from my life?
You are the eternal gift I waited for,
I saw you once, only once,
We never met again!
Christ awakened Dionel from the death-filled night
Whose heart bloomed with the Cathar’s fire
Syzygos brought the age of new gnosis to light
Christ awakened Dionel from the death-filled night
To be Valentinus, his Church back in daylight
Graced with Montségur’s black crozier
Christ awakened Dionel from the death-filled night
Whose heart bloomed with the Cathar’s fire
One day, a little boy whispered a wish—
to see his future in a mirror of truth.
The heavens listened... in silence.
And when the moment finally came,
he looked—
just once.
The mirror didn’t scream,
it didn’t cry—
it simply shattered into silence.
And the boy?
He never disappeared...
he just stopped being who he was.
Because some futures, once seen,
don’t leave you the same.
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