It was like that garden in the Bible
People pointing fingers and being accountable
For such a cataclysm of subsiding inferno
Of iron submerged in the mists of towers that let go

Woke up to a sunny delight
Not knowing the strife that hid behind the light
The day was like flying a kite
Make one wrong move and begin the plight

Don't forget the seize of the planes
Could be a possibility of a hijacked train
That can be stopped when off its tracks
A military has done what it has done to penetrate cracks

Mighty bearded ones sit high and they praise
Minions on the ground and they continue to graze
On the darkness that infects their grounds
Cut-throat, die-hard bastards, a weakness they found

We hate you God for this extraction of life
It's like you pierced the hearts of all with a knife
The blood-curdling screams of stiff transients
They checked in at the Bates Motel and got service like this

The Master of Fate is up to man to create
Something bad has happened, but it's not too late
For the King of Nations and all foreign relations
To stand firm and learn from this curve to help this creation

It's about the earth
And the pagan treats.
The whirl wind that he followed.
The windmills are armies
Of people standing with pale and rag.
Warm sudsy water.
Cleaning something which needn't be cleaned.
Washing what was already washed.
Doing what was already done.
No end in sight.
An obsessive compulsiveness.
We work. We love.
We move. We plan.
But we needs must love
And in loving become one.

But it's all a trick, Mr. Quixote.
A mysterious force.
How do we know
What we know?
How do we know
For sure?
You never questioned.
You only quested foreword.
A new beginning.
A never ending world:
Of thought --
Of the purity of a single dream
Which created the reality you saw.
Oh, to live on Sugar mountain
With a spear in one hand
And a shield in the other
Sitting atop a gallant hag
Tormenting dragons
And saving Maidens.

Over and Over.
The essence of life.
The life of the mind.
And how nothing exists without the mind.
There is no external reality.
It is an Aristotelian lie.
There is nothing but
What the mind sees
And what it knows
Is around us.

To know and not to know
There is no way of knowing
But to know.
In the end
Having made the journey
On your death bed
Being able to say
I have lived.
For life, there is nothing more

I know
You know
You would have been proud.

And this, dear one, is for you.

Under the pale blue soft skies
On white sanded sculpted shores
Where the birds cast their shadows
Amid decreasing days of summer lores.

Paths of never returning a thousand ages
Paths of ever occurring a thousand clefts
Cast out by wakeful gates of sheltered eyes
In echoes and the silent sound of the foot steps.

Here in the time where the paths end
Amid laborious hells carried within oneself
Pivoted fingers in moth moulded stance
In ever widening circles of the fiery spells.

Knowledge of ignorance, knowledge of knowing
Knowledge of light, knowledge of dark sowing
Knowledge of deeds, knowledge of the unsaid
Knowledge of beginnings, knowledge of the ends.

And how should I know
And what should I hold?
When I am only a novice
In the complexities of my soul.

The moon
Oh catch the moon
Put a noose in its nose
Bring it back to harness
The icy wilderness of the noon
Sprinkle it with flowered dew.
Catch it before it runs
To penumbra of sun hide itself
Oh run and run to recover
From suffocation of grief & bart
Stiffen its dust with tears
Or the ceremonial flood
Of the tidings of the present
The anti poetic
Peregrine of the sedged cart
The olibanum of crushed heart.

The moon
Oh catch the moon
Catch it till it runs
To the hilliard mansions
The septic pun
Where the master of hounds sleep
With his metallic face
Turned to the wall
Where under the greenish shadows
Shines the dool

The moon
Oh catch the moon
Catch it before it runs
To the penumbra of the sun

The moon has risen the sun has gone,
The fairies come out one by one.

The stars light their way through the weary night.
They must get prepared for their untimely flight.

The winter has come much too soon.
They must flee this night,by the light of the moon.

The days are cold,the nights just as bad.
The fairies have lost what they once had.

The warmth of the sun,the breeze of the night,
Now they are desperate,fleeing by flight.

At night and my lonely walk under the reflect of moonlight

Comfortable feelings refreshing air some cool moments

In whole year my mind free from the tension

Feelings of my soul are unmentioned

Wedding Poems