A Dove’s Flight Home

A white dove flies…
Above the dale o’ silver grass,
O’er the fields of golden wheat;
Far he has to fly,
To the land of olive trees.

The place where the white dove lived,
The branch which bore his nest;
That place is lost,
The branch now broken,
So the white dove flies.

The white dove flew,
O’er vales ‘n’ hills;
His wings stretched above
Forests of chrysanthemum,
Marshes with smiling daffodils.

The dove decides to stop,
Its wings demand rest;
The dove is out of breath,
Scarlet blood flowing out
O’ its deeply hacked breast.

How the dove received its wound
We do not know;
Cuts and burns have a story of their own.
Though he blamed the world,
It was a fault his own.

See the dove flies again!
Pursuing hope, false but fair,
To reach his new lair,
The olive tree, his Eden owned,
A paradise lost, a new one found.

Incendiary

Burn baby burn!
Burn hard to reach me,
Burn till what is black, becomes white.
Don’t be afraid,
I shall collect your ashes from the dust and sand,
And wash my hands in the Sea;
Then maybe on some desolate shore,
You shall meet me once more;
We shall begin our story from there…
And perhaps this time,
Our little fairy-tale will have less blood, more glory.
So babe! Don’t worry,
Leave all else to me…and burn!
Burn as I once did;
You have burnt alone long enough,
A flicker it has been,
Now burn with me.

Malediction

Love is a Malediction,
A shallow farce, a sullen act,
A work of unadulterated fiction,
An insipid feeling; untamed…
So frail, so fragile,
A painted leaf upon a petrified tree
From whence sprout the roots of life.
The leaf does not wither
Unless you want it to… True;
It weathers the Autumn,
Falls as you behold Spring.
So you see…
After all the mush and sauce,
Love is indeed against the Divine will;
Love is darker than the Night,
The scar it leaves is darker still.
The Devil's Snare,
Nature’s blaspheme.

Lost in translation

I am so lost in translation
That all I want to say
Comes out wrong, makes me look a fool.
I try to discover means, albeit roundabout
To make her see the better way,
To tell her that I have no sway,
On the things I do, on the words
Spoken, reconsidered, regretted.
And how every time I try,
To write something beautiful
To make her smile;
I end up just as bad,
Writing my own obituaries… … …



My euphemisms are all old now
And my borrowed feelings just as stale,
This whole affair has begun to stink;
A proper nausea, the uneasy smell.
And each time I script this sulking story,
That has no love, speaks of no glory;
No knights here, no damsel in distress,
Not the Devil’s own,
Nor angels of fallen grace;
Each time I try thus to break free,
I end up just as mad,
Dancing upon my hand carved cemeteries… … …



For all I know, for all I care,
This story could go on;
For testaments are not meant for me.
And now that I have lost my religion,
Pursuing one god after another,
Sacrificing everything but my threadbare soul;
The Devil may take it
Not that I care much, no more,
Trivialities do not surprise me,
And oh so the masked glamour!
None of that for me, I have had enough;
For all the happy things done,
I end up just as sad,
Sketching my not so fond memories… … …

Hell hath no fury...

Glorious o ignominious Love

Whence doth your fate rest?

Is it past the scaffold

Or through the gibbet;

A thousand questions, the dullest drone

All unrequited, some unspoken

Heaven’s blaze………in this twilight

All is sinister, all is dark

Stitched eyelids, they cannot see

That I walk upon a precipice

O Love, where doth she lead me?

To the land of mist, eternal smog

Beware Man! Fear the white gloved hand,

Remember! Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn.

Devil May Cry

Nervous, shaken, stirred,
I rise with trembling legs,
The earth 'neath my feet
Is firm,
The sky above my head, wet.
The tears that fall from thence,
I gather them with patience
For they bear testimony
That devils may cry
And sometimes angels do play games.

Odyssey

Beyond the black waters
Beyond its farthest reaches
I went………
There were many with me
But I as always was alone.

The sea wrecked my ship
And I washed up on an Island…
Marooned alone in an even lonelier land
I paused for breath
Contemplating the Sun bathed sylvan sands
My back got backed
I felt the spray on my face
And the wind swept my feet
The water was calm, beyond was turmoil…

I stood and watched
For days to follow, numb and dazed…
Witness I did, the Sunrise
Weep I did, in the Sunset
And then Athena spoke to me
“My brave Odysseus,
O king of Ithaca! Listen……
Thy fate is in thy hands,
Their wrath proven futile
The Gods have proved their worth.
It is time……awaken…
Straighten thy mast, and once again
Cast your ship into the dark abyss,
Sail past Scylla and Charybdis
Do it for your men,
If you care not for yourself;
Give them hope,
Keep none for yourself……
That is your destiny…embrace your fate.”

And so once again
I bring out my carpenter box
My rusty tools, my dusty hammock,
40 days and nights I work
Relentlessly driven, raving mad
To create an ark so strong
That could sail the Seven Seas and beyond…
My journey soon would begin;
Home beckons………