There was a man

I once met a man,

he was flamboyance defined.

He had a tiger in his heart

and the jungle on his mind.

With quick word and wit

he'd have you laughing when he pleased.

Yet at his growling roar

men would go shaking at the knees.

Bubbling and yet deep

like the forest stream that flows.

Few people shine in this world,

and he was one of those.

This man, he is no more

and we'll all miss him so.

O Tiger-man, another one

like you, we'll never know.

Darker than dark

How many types of darkness
can one truly know?

(The dark of the storm
by piercing bolts rent
The dark of the sea
in a quiet night spent.
The dark of the earth
below mountains sublime
untouched by the sun
since time beyond time.
Cloying dark rising from
the depths of tragedy
of human nature wresting
with endless agony.
Or the warm safe darkness
of comforting obscurity
of hiding in the folds
of the cloak of privacy.
So many different faces
of the ruler of night.
So many things to see in
the absence of light)

I see the darkness
everywhere I go.

Satellite

A fascination there is, from far back in time,
an enchantment of the strongest kind.
Cast by that nightly passer-by,
that glowing shape up in the sky.
Behold this line - "The maiden swoons
into his arms 'neath the crescent moon"
Or this - "Like the full moon in the sky,
thy beauty bewitching to the eye."
And hoarse whispers - "Horrors cold and stark
thus plague this land in the moonless dark!"
So, what gives this all-encompassing might
to a mere rock with borrowed light
that, to those who it's praises sing,
even it's absence is a remarkable thing?
Yet it stands in place of prime
in poetry, science and all, through time!
Ardent swains trill more than enough
of what the moonlight means to Love.
Men of science go to great lengths
to link it to our existence.
The moon even gets a kindly face
and in fairy stories makes it's place.
Witches, goblins and wolfish things
too fly in on these moonbeam wings.
Yet, the same moon in the day
is just a satellite on it's way,
unnoticed by the earthly swarm
robbed of all it's night-time charm!

Images

Behold the snowy manes
of a hundred galloping equines
flourishing in the advance
and BOOM!
break against the cliffs
and retreat fluttering
like a thousand butterfly wings.

Cast an eye on the glittering hordes
That many-hued swarm
dancing, whirling with joy,
the passivity of surrender....
A swooping descent! and
a crackling impatience to be borne
upon the fickle, chancy wind, again.

Look deep at that fiery glow
surmounted by towering pillars
of changeful mists and vapours...
Now drifting...now still..
Wave upon wave of majestic plumes
shot through with light piercing,
a glow all-consuming, as of an
inferno at World's end, far away.

Never was the World stilled,
nor indeed the Universe
unchanging....eternal...
'Tis but a flicker in the light of fancy
Seldom to seem what it is,
rarely to be what it seems.

Decision

Now is the time when
the path is divided,
an answer provided,
my fate is decided.

Now is when courage must prevail,
visions to uncover, thoughts to unveil.

This is the hour when
I must raise my voice
to block out the noise.
I must make my choice.

Whatever may come, be ready to face,
to fight every fight in this parting of ways.

There's always a chance,
a chance however slight,
that everything might
not end up quite right.

At the end of it all, you may just find
yourself left wishing, somewhere far behind.

Of a stranger in a strange land

No one is here, no one you know
No one is here with nowhere to go
No one is here to sing or to call

No one is here, no one at all

No one is here to ask you to stay

No one who hasn't yet gone away
No one is here to tell or to ask
No one to take a look beneath your mask
No one is here to pass you by
No one to smile and catch your eye
No one to see, no one to hear
No one to take the edge off of fear
No one at all on this cold, hard stone
No one to make you feel less alone
No one is here, no one you know
No one but you, with nowhere to go.

The Challenge of Learning

What a pity it is,
there's something amiss.
In the class where I learn,
all I do is yearn
to put down my head.
Better yet, go to bed.
To shut out the noise
and the teacher's voice,
with eyes tightly shut
dream peacefully, but (!)
for decency's sake
I must stay awake.
I must try to find
and reel in my mind
and put it to use
and staunchly refuse
a snooze to allow.
Though being sleepy, and how!
So, with eyes open wide,
a nap is denied,
and the battle is on
to stifle the yawn.