The Poet upon himself

Beneath the flood of Pleiadian tears

A wayside traveller stood cloven

From the measured pandemonium

That surged the multitude’s clarion.

The winds of the rugged sycamore

Deluged the crepuscular night

Beside him burnt an orchid fire, for

Orion blew out the Pleidian light.

His rugged boots pierced a yellow wood

And tread the leaf drenched grove

Recalling the quaint Scarborough Fair,

Where his quaint love did rove.

Calling on the Gods, the human revelled

within;Aeolus sent down his wind

The oceans turned to dusty vale

Hope and love fled mankind.

He trudged the winding boreen, lone.

Way;Eurus sang her melody

The stars danced upon the Nebra Sky Disk,

The music, tween the sycamore tree

Now stands he, brave and fallen

Waning before the tides of Time

That tarnished his mortal armour

His words, worn away, failed to rhyme.

The Poet bids the Child

Come hither young lad,

To the strawberry fields that blush

Beneath the sun-kissed wind;

And to the golden rushes by watery pines

Where Gaea’s fingers clasp the moist dirt,

Roving these knolls underneath the moorfowl’s feet.

Your eyes reign this everblue forest,

Your soul reigns her woven repose.

Blemish your spirit in her gravel.

Spread your wings amid her flapping heron.

Cleanse your wounds in her fleeting twilight.

Chase her hymn dripping brooks.

Sleep.

Sleep upon the shoulders of Atlas,

Upon this cloudy duvet.

Dream.

Dream upon wreaths the of the Hawthorn,

Upon a sunken reverie.

Wipe not your tears,

Child.

Hark! Her stolen gaze bending low in the glen;

For the woods , mountains , streams , lillies

And the mighty stars,

Chime in grand harmony,

Sempiternally

For you.

Wipe not your tears.

From this world full of rain,

Come hither young lad.

Lost amid Stars

I looked outside
Beyond the atmosphere,
I could feel the stars within me
Out came a tear.

Those magnificent orbs stood brave
As they shone brightly,
While I stood fearless for I possessed
The same stardust inside me.

They say
We are God’s creation,
But what kind of a Father
Would abandon his own children ?

When daylight came, the moon grew dim
While Mars blushed vermilion,
We were the infinite beings
Floating through this multiverse of millions .

Creation

Hush my child
When I speaketh to you
I am thy creation
All, this orb clad blue
“Before the birth of Chronos
Thy power flood the sky
From dust rose angels
With wings too weary to fly”
Such command the beech leaves
Forged by thy ancient Ollave
The word trickled down eons
But ne’er met it’s grave
The lucid soul exiled
When the lone soul cried “Treason!”
For seeking beyond thy Arcady
Us wanderers of reason
Awaken from dormancy
To a damp morning dream
I see mother’s lullaby
Carved by the sunlit boreen
Creation:I know not why
I know not how
The oaken wind whispers:
The Human Mind , tis too mighty to bow

A Starry Dream

As we collapsed beneath our tears,
Ecstatically gazing into the galaxies,
Little did we know that we were the constellations drifting through the timeless river amidst the infinite stellar abyss,
Prospecting a ray of hope to redeem ourselves from the deafness of the dormant past,
At light speed we bursted our dogmatic boundaries ,
And soaked the lucidity of rejuvenating knowledge ,
We sparked the ultimate supernova and at last entered the realm of cosmic consciousness!

Death

I lay calm for
My executioner had arrived,
There was no escaping ,
Even if I tried.

I could feel his presence
I succumbed to my fate,
No longer could I defend my body
His final move was check mate .

Never had I sensed
Such morbid an aura,
Nothing could stop me
From my appointment in Samarra.

I was thankful to Life
For showing daylight to me,
But Death , He couldn’t stand
The thought of me being free.

But in my darkness
A spectra manifested my head,
Which acted as stimulus
To my perception about Death.

It dawned upon me that it was Death
Who impregnated Life with sublimity,
If we lived and lived ,
The cognitive depth of time would lose its originality.

He came close and whispered in my ear,
“Come, let’s go.”
My soul was ecstatic
And simply could not say no.

The Cave

Wrought in the shadowy abyss,
Averted from all things bright and true,
His shackled eyes wonted rue ;
Blinded by inarticulate chaos,
The parched soul slumbered.
Phantoms tread walls
In front of the crooked bonfire ;
Shadows spake echoes,
His shackled reason began to brood
An illusion to infer.
His dawn hath come to depart
From grave to the sunny above ,
To the unreal dark his eyes did mold,
Like a dram of blood brimming a sea,
In its Form grasped he ,the earth ,
Brooks and stars, a fading glimmer.
A liberated vision, manifested the slave,
Inhuman to human ,slave to philosopher
Wayward his step slew
Seeking God’s cosmic hue.

Yonder broken moons and leafy shade,
Sat he pensively amid blushing andromeda,
And bade Time cease her hold
Over twilight laden glen and vale.
Thereupon he gazed into
God’s star spangled brook,
Where slumbered many a shimmering trout,
Tween waving reed and drowsy lilly .
For then the angels did send
The raven’s wind to soothe his toil.
Into the waters his vision unveiled ,
The shadowy guile of the
Crooked ghastly half- light.
The heavens seemed to revel
In dim static vanity;
His eyes saw ever more than he,
Shadows cast light,
Words cast Logos.
It was then he knew,
The cave morphed into reality.

Bombay

To the seven isles,amid chaotic quietude ,
Is where the silent crow cries,
To awaken the myriad from slumber,
The rusted rails begin their ascent,

In the damp dingy gullies,winding by lanes,
Would tread my soul with a faery in hand,
Past fluttering spittlebugs and auburn strays,
To a cramped buffet spewing spiced chai,

The fray of battle cars cake midday hours,
From dusty pockets roar brazen bazaars,
Bread to the table, rust to the soul,
Knights fight Day ,who seeks no rest,

A linguistic frenzy reflects in potholes,
An aesthetic rainforest humming, to the
Tune of diversity trotting down yellow streets
Where quaint shouts of gully cricket run free,

Along the scarred pavements and crowded sea,
Lies a lingering poignance for this Isle of Dreams,
Unsung courage marks her thorned Gateway ,
An everlasting wildfire resonates within her heart’s core.

A Cry for Life

Through the kaleidoscopic blur
Of starry men, we yearn to stretch into
The abyss, the raging cur
Treads pensively down a moonlit rue.

Decrepit sculptures, barren and still they stand,
What once was a philosopher king now sits
By pavements with head fallen, raised hand;
Forgotten dreams flee the moor that covets.

Through wonted winds fall a beech leave,
Through roaring tides must we breast,
The fire twixt Geras and Niamh
Must we brood upon and seek rest.

“Avert thou immortal gaze from the deft
Look to the willow among tombstones,
Let mirth and consciousness be not bereft
Escape the Ankou,walk the crossroad lone.”

Under boughs of Sligo , I partake,
Blackbirds and Bluebirds flutter round reeds,
“Thou gods art my reflection” Life spake
“Battle Chronos and return the deed.”

The Hosts bid their Heart

O’heart , why doth thou ache,
Under the novel moon shadow;
And why doth thou sigh,
When her blush feigned to bestow.
O’heart, why doth thou not revere,
Her pearly auburn locks,
Her pensive crimson eyes,
That held mine till time turn rock.
O’heart, mourning amid nebulae,
look not to the damned cairn,
Where brook and fire did blot,
The silhouette of my tear that still burn.
O’heart, thou broken in twain,
Encumbered by passion’s jargon.
The tinge of her moonlit lip
Faded into thou grey horizon,
O’heart, that lay asleep in hers,
Tread love’s dreamless trail,
Beneath radiant moonbeams,
Love and repeat this anguished tale.

O’heart, that beat in my beloved,
and beckoned the bluebird fly;
thou gazed into my soul whilst,
i gazed into his blue eye.