BEHOLDING THE BELLE

I once beheld the village belle,

Singing in the mustard fields,

Or passing by, on country roads,

Along the poplar trees,

Enchanting as spring's freshest flowers,

Her brown hair highlighted by the sun,

Or wet,with the sweetness of rain,

Beauty,in my sight,was only one,

Embedded is her image in my mind,

For all the places that I traveled to,

Through sunny days or hues of blue,

With all the goodness that life had to offer,

I rejected each and every proffer,

Because,her parity,I could never find,

REFLECTIONS OF AN ILLUDING KIND

Beguiling enough to lose my mind,
 

The heart pumps up the rhythm,

The whole world changes around me,

And the time starts going slow,

 

Being with you is when  I find,
 

The inner light of your psyche,

Unwittingly,you project an aura;

That is what makes you glow,

 

I wish ,that you,for once could know,

What you are not able to see;

The person that you already are,

Is the person you avoid to be,

 

Unfortunately,while I can see,

Your own reflection is blind,

You are gazing at the mirror,

With nothing there to find,

Except an illuding imposter,

That just resembles you,

Except an illuding imposter,

That just resembles you,

Beguiling enow to loseth mine own mind

The heart pumps up the rhythm,

The whole w'rld changes 'round me,

And the timeth starts going sloweth,

Being with thee is when i findeth

The inn'r lighteth of thy psyche,

Unwittingly,you projecteth an aura;

Yond is what maketh thee gloweth,

I wisheth ,that thee,f'r once couldst knoweth,

What thou art not able to seeth;

The p'rson yond thee already art,

Is the p'rson thee avoideth to beest,

Unf'rtunately,while i can seeth,

Thy owneth reflection is blindeth,

Thou art gazing at the mirr'r,

With nothing th're to findeth,

Except an illuding impost'r,

Yond just resembles thee,

Except an illuding impost'r,

Yond just resembles thee,

NOT EVEN THE PAIN

I live for the sake of giving;

Happiness,I may not always see,

But nothing can change my mind;

Not even the pain,

Life was only meant for living,

No promises were made ,of perfection,

Everything wasn’t meant to be clear,

Through the troughs and crests of it's waves,

Happiness would leave it's share,

Luck could change it's course,

Then bring forth some despair,

No excuses for not living,

Not even the pain,

Life is a birthday present,

With ribbons,neatly tied,

What's inside the box,

Is not really that matters,

More important is the fact,

That something is inside,

A gift from God,for you,

You can like it or hate it,

Nothing else can be done,

No better way to state it,

Yes,you can blame fate,

But nothing will change who you are,

Not even the pain,






 

NOT COEQUAL THE TEEN

I liveth f'r the sake of giving;

Happiness,i may not at each moment see,

But nothing can changeth mine own mind;

Not coequal the teen,

Life wast only meanteth f'r living,

Nay promises wast madeth ,of perfection,

Everything wasn’t meanteth to beest clear,

Through the troughs and crests of t's waves,

Happiness would leaveth t's share,

Luck couldst changeth t's course,

Then bringeth forth some despair,

Nay fetches f'r not living,

Not coequal the teen,

Life is a birthday present,

With ribbons neatly did tie,

What's inside the box,

Is not very much yond matters,

Moo important is the fact,

Yond something is inside,

A gift from god,f'r thee,

Thee can like t 'r misprise t,

Nothing else can beest done,

Nay better way to state t,

Aye,you can censure fate,

But nothing shall changeth who is't thou art,

Not coequal the teen,

TICK,TOCK,TICK,TOCK...

Tick,tock,tick,tock,
Nay,I'm not crazy;really, 
T's the horologe yond's ticking,
Moments from mine own life,
T's the time yond it is picking,

Memories pour out of mine own mind,
Of long summers and starry nights,
The holidays hath spent with cater-cousins,
And those fartuous pillow fights,


'r at which hour we ranneth about in the gardens,
Hunting f'r grasshoppers and butterflies,
Plucking the quite quaint flowers,
Nay responsibility in life,no tether,
Did wet in the merit summer showers,
Nay one to stand ho us;not coequal the weather,

Oft we would just forswear down,
And gaze the night sky ,with wonder,
Looking f'r shooting stars ,and shapes,
Of the constellations  in the infinite space,

Nothing bother'd us,
Not mosquitoes,'r flies,
'r coequal parents shouting ,
At the top of their voices,
To calleth us in f'r the night;

Those wast the wonder years,
At which hour we did throw caution to the winds,
Nothing wast moo important than excit'ment,
Logic and reasoning,we very much hadst none,

THE MORNING'S TRASH

What is the truth,really,and what is life?

Is it the soft sound of a bubbling brook?

Or is it a picnic under a shaded tree,

Or is it the pages of a well written book.

That pause life for a long moment,

So that,in wisdom,we can see,

Here,beside a picnic basket full of food,

Where friends sit and laugh,and play,

Or the children romp about on the grassy knoll,

As we free ourselves and embrace the satisfaction,

Of flying kites and chasing ducks,

As if we have broken the urban wall,

Why is this not life,if anything is?

Why do we wonder about the simplest things?

And attempt to answer questions,complicated,

But reject the things that life does show,

That wisdom,old,is still good,

And not antiquated,

Not that life is an endless spring,

But ,water,to the thirsty wayfarer,

It certainly does ,sometimes,bring,

Just a little is what it takes,

To have life that is not a waste,

So why do we grab it by it's horns?

And complain when we fall on a thistle,

Let alone a bush of thorns,

Or is it the beautiful bosoms,

And,oh ,such shapely thighs!

For which you steal a look?

 The affections ,unwise,

I suppose that I will never know,

And just reflect in thought and surmise,

Where is logic when you need it,

Why do we give in to emotions?,

And deflect the logical thought,

By embracing foolish notions,

Pondering,O humanity,

Where were we ,really,?

What did we lose?

And what have we got?

Walking without looking,

And looking without seeing,

We live like machines,

And call ourselves beings,

Trashy novels ,we joyfully read,

And have children to raise,

But it's pets that we breed,

And on false pride do we ride,

Sitting pompously on an ass;

Rejecting the steed,

What is life,really,now?

I don't know,

But I am living it,

PORT ELGIN,PLEASE

I can smell the sap of the beckoning trees,

And imagine the day spent with butterflies,

Away from civilization's muffling noise,

The land of pastures,cows,and cheese,

And I see,in the spacious skies,

Flocks and flocks of birds, floating,

Over sandy shores,in the gentle breeze,

Please take me back to Port Elgin,please,

Humanity needs to breach this wall,

To connect with nature like we did before,

For,should we continue ignoring it's call,

Much like Rome will mankind fall,

In the pursuit of material gains,

We have lost the essence of who we are,

Technology may have brought us far,

Still,following behind, are the brand new pains,

Hotter days and acid rain,

All the progress ;it was in vain,

Making a bigger mushroom cloud,

Mankind feels so tall and proud,

DAMN!

Trying to escape my solitary cell,

I eventually hit a wall,

With no one to share my soul within,

My psyche suspended in fall,

Forgotten and frozen failures remained,

Hidden from one and all,

Until one day my soul received,

A kindred spirit's call,

An odd connection developed within,

Then without,by breaking the walls,

And I felt ,like,two souls connect,

Larger distances now small,

As if my heart was torn to shreds,

Then earnestly built again,

These odd emotions are not described,

From the scales of pleasure and pain,

PANDEMONIUM

Intellectual fusions shine the most bright,

A glow that is seen by the intelligent kind,

The rest of the world is groping in the dark,

Such is the encounter of two beautiful minds, 

Many look but most don't find,

A love affair of phosphate channels,

 And electrical synapses ,behind,

LIVING HELL

Stuck deep in the bog,

The smell of death and rot,

I was pulling ahead with faith,,

Thinking that someone ,

Would rescue my tortured soul,

The morrow that would bring light onto me,

And which would direct me to the shore,

I was waiting patiently for that beacon,

In the mist that manifested my surroundings,

It made me blind and I kept falling in holes,

Helpless,I was,from the days of yore,

The bog,thick with weeds ,and murky waters,

Many a pond lay there;some as big as the seas,

What made it harder were the fetters that I wore,

A part of me now,like a chronic disease,

Then I saw a rope,thick and long.

Of the kind used in the quay,

Instinctively I grabbed at it,hard,

Maybe,deliverance had finally found me,

I pulled at it and heard a splash,

The rope came loose and fell,

And,from a distance,I heard,

The heartrending cries ,

It seemed,from the depths of hell,

“Where am I” ,I cried?

There was no answer,

My soul was condemned,

For eternity,I would slog,

In this lifeless,misty, bog,

Hell was not under the earth,

It was not in the sky,

It was inside my shell,

Where my soul resides,

So ,here I was, stuck in hell,

In the life that I was living,

With the comfort that,for a mortal I,

My death would be forgiving,

DAMNING THE DEVIL

Oh damning fires of hell,
Ready to burn my soul,
Try as you may,Lucifer,
I will turn your fires cold,

Regardless of how many souls,
You manipulated,from times old,
I don't buy your twisted delusions,
Keep what ,to others,you already sold,

Your insatiable thirst for my sins,
I know,is pricking you with pins,
But know this:I come from generations past,
Who held control over djinns,

You are a  grotesquely twisted loser,
For,when it comes to my free will,
You will never,ever,be my chooser,

Too bad that you are living on hope,
Faith is what I have to guide,
My soul,in the straight path,
With the fear of God within,
And my will against you,astride,

THE REAPER'S REGRET

The raven was perched on the branch,
Atop the churchyard tree,
As the reaper,tired,sat down to rest,
In spring's chilling breeze,

Desolate and empty was this ground,
No soul to take from these,
Emptiness of mankind's rot;
The reaper was hard to please,

The souls,already taken,
The reaper's faith was shaken,
Had he been forsaken?
From his eternal lease?

LSD

Love,Sex,Devotion,
Each a powerful emotion,
Useful,sometimes,if in it's place,
But,if,wandering around ,a big disgrace,

Neither can one describe,
Except feel,with a false pride,
For, feelings are the outbursts,
Of ships on stormy seas,
With broken masts and torn sails,
That cannot be steered with ease,

A curse it is to feel,
The jab of emotional steel,
As it impales your soul,within,
Like a knife through butter or cheese,

FREEING THY SOUL FROM ME

Every time the raindrops falleth,
Every time a nightingale sings,
Every time thee smelleth the earth,
As thee walketh upon  yond did grind,

Taketh t upon thy quite quaint  mind,
Thee shall be free,
Thee shall be free,
Thee shall be free,



 Lock'd art the shackles of propriety,
Gone art the painful restraints,
Lest nay one receiveth spook'd by mine own compositions,
I has't did free thy soul from constraints,

 Readeth these words one last time,
And doth not returneth,evermore, 
F'r I shall nay longer compose thy emotions,
Nev'r,nev'r,nev'r,...... nevermore!

THE ETERNAL DANCE

Magnificent was the dome ,floating,

Stained glass was the floor of the hall,

Setup in the clouds of heaven,

From whence the angels fall,

Finally, I had my just reward,

For all those years I suffered,

My soul ,happily, had risen,

To attend this celestial ball,

The beauty ,indescribable,

In the light of the midnight blue,

Pure as an angel's heart,

Or love that stands as true,

As I stepped on the floor,

Yonder opened a door,

And entered a beautiful maiden,

Who, I felt,  I had known before,

Never had I felt such pleasure,

It left my senses reeling,

Pulling me towards the maiden,

Indescribable was the feeling,

Translucent was this beauty,

Enchanting,inside and out,

I think I had felt like this before,

When my soul was suffering within,

And yearned to be without,

It was my passion's calling,

Which was answered now,

About to dance with the maiden,

Respectfully,I bowed,

What followed was her courtesy

Then my right hand on her waist,

And her left hand on my shoulder,

Forever, was heaven, to taste,