Lost Echoes

I was born out of immaculate desire
conceived upon the eaves of absolute perfection
fathered by the quickenings of hope
lofty ambition was my birth mother
alas this cumbersome existance
is just a borrowed splendour
a crafty reflection of what I thought
nothing more and none other
what ripples that may
have long since subsided
what echoes that remain
are lost in the distant void
subsumed by the tenors
the bitter notes of fate
the malignant melody of chance
the cold blare of harsh reality
and as the last of my echo bounces
upon the last few surfaces before it vanishes
I lay aside these heavy reins
and let the darkness engulf
as I like my pathetic echoes
subsume into unknown reaches
slowly and slowly ever so slightly
upon fragile winds and delicate vapors
into the embracing silence
of vanishing echoes.

A Little Sparrow Sang To Me

I was out in town that day
through busy streets and alley ways
as often times my gaze was tied
to cobbled stones and dusty strides
in thoughts and deeds a solliloquay
a lonely and dispassionate lad.

Moving on through busy throngs
deftly stepping won't tarry long
my business brisk then off to home
for in this town I am all alone
never to be or ever to belong
on these foreign shores never my own.

Then a gentle rumour tickled my bones
a windy flavour borne by flighty tunes
upon eaves I glimpsed a dappled creature
clad in yellow feathers and merry cheers
and where it danced the very sky did shone
in its song a melody of million laughters.

In that empty maw where my heart is kept
a spark, a flicker, a once forgotten light
"awaken!" sang the sparrow "tarry not in dreamless state"
"remember" it said "life is like a piece of cake"
"to reap its flavour, the happy or the sad"
"you must take a bite and taste what life dictates".

I was intriuged and just interested enough
to began to seek this little sparrow of laughs
but even as I raced to where I spied it last
it would jump, hop and fly away too fast
here and there, I was led around the bough
but catch that litle bird I never did, alas.

Until later, much later did I surrender to rest
for my stength was drained by this silly little jest
then the sparrow did perch once more over my head
and whispered "tarry not for there are dreams to be had"
then it up and flew away leaving me with nothing at best
but beyond that flighty bird, there are other things that life begets.

I lifted my eyes and found in wonder
that the streets does seem to be now a little calmer
the alleys are no longer darkened in shadows
but are sprinkled with life's many rainbows
there are people here that I once never would hear
and things to do that would keep me for hours.

I have wandered far it seems in pursuit of the sparrow
that I have found again what I have long enclosed in the shadows
my downcast eyes are free to roam all the colours
my shuttered heart now feel all of life's little flavours
long have I ambled on this path of straight and narrow
now am I free to wander to reap what life has to ofer.

I am out in town most these here days
through familiar streets and friendly alleys
as often times my gaze would sweep
at all the richness that life does keep
of all the things, the people, the sights and sounds at play
O! what a lovely place is this here town indeed.

A little sparrow sang to me
a song of life and in all its glee
though I never did see that sparrow again
I would sometimes hear its song in refrain
"awaken" it would say "harken to me"
"for life is never meant to be in vain".

I Walk The Streets At Night

I walk the lonely streets at night
perusing the tell-tales of life
slowly borrowing the sights
window to window and door to door.

Such Visions my only respite
for fate does tend to deprive
the flavours of simple delights
the warmth that love does adore.

Out cold on the pavement I sit
looking in through the mirrored veils
the laughter that others partake
are but echoes on stones that disappear.

Whatever was for me to keep
are shadows wreathed in darkness deeper still
like clouds in the wind's violent wake
and the drops of a vanishing tear.

What views that I ever survey
are but moments lost in a dream
every touch that I though I did feel
are suspended beyond all my grasps.

My wishes grew beyond this grey
hoping to be on the other side of the gleam
for colours to brighten my faded reel
and whispers teaching me how to laugh.

But I still wander the streets at nights
without doors nor windows to open for me
for in the cold on the pavements I sit
without hope nor the warmth of a love.

The avenues are all locked up tight
what ever is there for a soul that is me
forever dancing the night's silent beat
wishing at the moon and the stars far above.

I Told Myself

I told myself
again and again
I never cared
nor gave a damn.

But why is it there
this feel of chagrin
even when I've long
recovered the pain.

Too long now
since twilight's fall
the setting sun
have left no dawn.

From empty aisles
in abandoned malls
echoes still sing
but the melodies are gone.

Anchored beyond
once azure skies
lies the broken remains
of lost horizons.

Once decked and followed
by nimble suitors
now lost forever
manicured in gloom.

In whatever form
by whichever route
this forgotten tale
must perhaps be told.

In the flowering of time
the blooming of days
what remains of hope
might somehow still dream.

For even in darkness
perhaps I still wish
to awaken once more
in the light of the day.

Muqaddimah, The Codex of Lan

" Above and beyond everything else,
I must enforce these rules that I have ,
for better or for worse I must never digress.
Let other souls waver in the press,
But I... I must remain ever as constant as I must."

What Words Can Never Say

So many hopes and so many feelings,
Hanging like ropes that keep us from falling,
Such fertile dreams that now are remembered,
The future that seems like a fear to be conquered,
All these that lie on the tip of the tounge,
The answers to why and the song to be sung,
But all the subtle ringings are silenced on the way,
All this that I am feeling my words can never say.

Sleeplessness, Too Much Coffee and The Internet

I am usually candid, reserved and somewhat silent
But the grogginess of not sleeping
Have always conspired to affect my judgement
The disruption to resting
Has rendered my synapses somewhat inefficient
Making me less constrained
to render careful thoughts to actions
The consumption of coffee
Is also somewhat a challenge
For the caffein that I take
Doth cause indirect corellation
This giddiness of the head
A lightheaded emotion
I have become a thing
of unintelligeble compunction
Such that it is
That in normal communication
That I still pause to think
Before exchanging information
But such as in things
In instant communication
I often overtype
Hitting "sent" before consideration
only to realise now
Its awful implications
To those I have frightened
With my tasteless jokes and awful renditions
I say my farewell
And bids my apology in regretful silence
For these sleepless behaviour
lack of tack and perhaps an unbounded imagination
You will see no more of my stupid and inconsiderate posts
I am sorry again for my sleepless and caffein fueled pontifications.

A Chance Encounter

When the doorbell rang that day,
I rush to answer on my way,
A voice that echos "Hello" to me,
Such sweet supple melody.

Why she came I can't remember,
Perhaps some trivia or such another,
But I do know that she was here,
And for a moment I thought that love did appear.

Twin gentle eyes that swings to me,
Joined by a smile that speaks truely,
A picture of heaven stood by and by,
An angel right out from the sky.

Where do I begin and where to start,
As this lovely lady captured my heart,
Long have I waited for this to be,
But long have I feared what it would decree.

For once long before have I felt this way,
Only to know the true meaning of dismay,
What lies beyond this meeting by chance,
Dare I pursue and once again risk to dance.

How can a lady one such a stranger,
Quickened my love with just a whisper,
Why can I still see craddled in stars,
That lovely lady driving off in her car.

A new day hereafter a chance to begin,
Should I risk it ever or dare I abstain,
Rainbows are dancing sunshine is shining,
Old songs of dreams have just begun to sing.

Was it fate or chance encounter,
Is it destiny for me and for her,
I wish I knew and I hope it was,
For my mind is troubled my heart at loss.


In the midst of indulgences,
in the wake of excess,
I peruse the differences,
that all things must possess,

a murmur here a whisper there,
the utterances that I vainly digest,
to figure and decipher bare,
the indigence which truth hopefully divests,

taken leave of my thoughts and senses,
going off the straight and narrow,
through the wilds and jagged fences,
uncharted streets and tear streaked windows,

shed from the yoke of bitter order,
removed from care of flighty fancy,
aloft in the float of nether powers,
stripped from joys from piety and mercy,

in the grip of winds obscuring vapors,
in the tempest of rain the temper of storms,
in the deeps and scenes observing in candor,
my tattered vision sees no gentler sojourns,

alas in exile in thought and in form,
my remaining moments to dance in the gloom,
no less distraught no chance reforms,
till the fading sonnets the end is soon.
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