Darkness in Mind
Humans design Errors refine Brazen belief Treasures the thief. Humans revere Failing to fear Monsters designed With darkness in mind.
First impressions last. First impressions? Fast! First impressions show. First impressions know Nothing! First impressions judge. First impressions smudge Lenses. First impressions last. First impressions? Fast!
There is no perfect time The stars shall not align Your choices are your own Whose seeds will next be sewn?
We tailor our tales For readers who listen We polish our past To a shine, and we glisten. But pain is a permanent stain And love is an ill-fitting glove.
At any given moment Suffering is near Be cheerful but aware Constrict your wicked stare. Perspective is a language Speakers are too few The rueful never learned For selflessness was spurned.
Beyond the 'when'
A gentle voice from yesteryear Protects my heart From reckless fear Just long enough to stand again And see the ‘how’ Beyond the ‘when’.
From the slumber of superstition I awoke With aching limbs And a thirst for reason. From the echoed halls of certainty I appeared With arrow drawn And a moving target.
Everyone you think you know Is putting on a show. Do you know your role? Did you read your lines? Characters console And memory confines.
Superstition sedates an inquiring mind with injections of a poison called...
Places full of people, People full of places, Restlessly inscribing Fantasies in faces.
‘Fire!’ screams the fool
Ever watchful eyes Ever open ears Born of ancient lies Feeding primal fears. ‘Fire!’ screams the fool No flames are to be seen But swiftly comes a rule Where common sense had been. Technology detects Technology reveals Technology connects Technology conceals. Lives are tailed and tracked Files upon the shelves But code has not been cracked To save us from ourselves. Ever watchful...
What use are drowning dreams? I’m weary chasing streams Believing they will grow Believing time will show The rivers of my mind Converging on the sea And I still here to find And you still here with me.
A Master Blind
I stood too long upon the ledge The cold began to bite A frigid body fighting With a mind intent on flight. The city hummed a smooth lament Of novelty outgrown The stains of a society So restlessly alone. I was too selfish with my pain A burden rarely shared Emotion is a master blind And memory impaired.
I am betrothed to sadness It was arranged at birth Her love is cruel and certain But I know what love is worth. Her fruits betray a bitterness The sweetest rarely fall I wonder where she hides them Or if sweetness grows at all? The fertile soils of silence Await her pregnant seeds Perennial, the harvest For she hungers as she feeds.
A Moving Target
Keep your superstition Kindly to yourself Greater works of fiction Gather dust upon your shelf. Lesser acts of kindness Reach higher moral ground Than baselessly believing The good are heaven-bound. Truth, a moving target May never be possessed But certainty is fatal When progress is suppressed.
To know the corners Of one’s mind, To shed light upon The stains of time. To distrust fervour When certain, To shun ignorance Of the curtain. To savour silence And stillness, To act selflessly Without witness. To cherish the will To explore, To see suffering Outside your door. To love like the rain In season, To fight bigotry With cold reason.
The Pleasure is Mine
The pleasure is mine As I watch you recline With a countenance shy That seems to imply We are strangers to this And I lower my kiss As your back builds an arch While I drink and I parch. And the pleasure is mine As you call me to dine And we push and we pull: We will feast until full.
There was an old bishop named Mel Who gave off a hideous smell For under his hat Was a long expired rat And to hide it was personal Hell.
My tongue is misshapen From bloody bite-marks And frustrated flapping. My brain is polluted With bland excuses For unchained injustice. My heart is surrounded By walls of distrust Because ‘kindness’ breeds lies. My time is limited: Dissent drives me And estrangement awaits.
Insignificance is liberation And imprisonment: Knowing how miniscule our troubles Against the cold vastness, Yet each sheds light upon A shrinking stage With curtains closing.
A World More Just
I want to believe In a world more just But dreaming decays And fantasies rust. Experience flies In the face of hope And I wonder still Am I fit to cope? With the loss of love And the loss of friends With the brightest starts And the darkest ends. This limited mind This animal tamed A hunter subdued A mammal renamed. But we are the best The top of the chain With the gift of joy ...
In great empires the people who live in the capital, and in the provinces remote...– Adam Smith
Who protects the homeless man From animals in uniform, Power wielding savages Who swore to serve and preserve. Who protects the troubled man When he begs, unarmed, for his life And cries out for his father, Face down on a blood stained street. Who protects the innocent From inhumane authorities, Barbaric brutes with blue shields, Who chose the weakest target And laughed while life...
Oh men of tainted cloth, Oh men of blind belief, Innocence is snatched And you protect the thief.
I call upon on present to hear this solemn vow: “We shall defeat delusion!”, though yet I can’t say how. Compassion will compel us and tolerance prevail. The bread of blinkered ignorance will harden and grow stale. Our refuge shall be reason, uncertainty our guide. With bold imagination, we’ll turn the ancient tide. Old stars will twinkle brightly, fresh eyes will burn for truth,...
An underhanded comment, A cowardly attack, Tongue tied when confronted, Yet brave behind my back.
My love once roared in torrents, Now it softly trickles, And pain that beat and bruised me, Feather-like, now tickles.