No Eyes
No eyes, no truth revealed;
No lies, yet worried worries
Dance along a pavement
Like worries along a sidewalk
Across a pond, across a sea
Of dreams, behind a veil
Of sincerity.
No Choice
Some say we have no choice,
And I agree, as I contemplate
The task of writing of the essay
To compare and contrast
Two Romantics, two approaches;
To find the words and … aargh –
Just give up and just give in
To the temptation of The Doctor,
Two hearts and thirteen series;
To make the sofa my home
For the cold coming weeks,
Leave the screen in darkness
And scream in silence
Instead of dreaming
Of that degree.
In Search of the Sacred Seed
The unbroken chain of myth:
Tap, tap, tapping along
To the chorus of your mind,
The perpetuating of the same old truth:
Toll, toll, the bell draws you close
To the chorus of their choice,
The silent grave no longer veiled:
With slothlike precision, a lifetime
Slowly spooning, always searching
For redemption, for the sacred seed
To the chorus of a cockroach’s deed.
Like a Turnip
I can talk like a turnip, let you know
I know things: a scholar
By cheap paper and cheaper ink;
Let you know I love you: 我爱呢
And then leave you frozen still
At the altar of ultimate promises;
I can talk like a turnip, spread wide
My final uttering like the cheap lard
You wasted, smeared wafer thin;
I can talk like a turnip, but would it
Change a thing.
Faceless Fool
One year I unsaw my face:
No face, no mirrors
For the best of a winter’s season,
With Christmas come and gone
I let the new year slowly pass
Until one grey misty morning
I found courage hanging low
And so I took
And so I pilfered
The truth from the horned beast
That was my image.
One year I unsaw my face:
In no mirrors,
For far too long,
In cracked mirrors
I saw another’s,
No face to call my own,
No place to hide the hidden
Truth of a lost self:
White-bearded,
Aged,
Faceless
Fool
Hecate – an adventure in Iambic Pentameter
In starlight cold and blue behold her face,
Beside her two of guarding dogs do rest,
Of Titan birth she brings prosperity,
No wonder they built many lasting shrines,
In Thrace the worship of her grace unbound,
Her golden key to open all closed doors
That hides a smile by magic mother moon,
But can she help Demeter’s offspring find,
Our Hecate across the Styx set sail,
To search until Persephone was found;
A triple goddess at our point in time.
The Path of the Huntress
He chose the Path of the Huntress,
A Jack with a Sleeve of Hearts,
In search for an Afterlife
Beyond her crumbling Cove;
In search for a missing Half
Deep in the Shadowlands.
He chose the Path of the Huntress,
A Jack without his Jill,
Beyond the Light the Stories withered
As silence fell and voices faded.
He chose the Path of the Huntress,
A Jack – without a Jill.