Limerick No.4

Once I tried to learn the guitar,

Sadly, I didn’t get very far

I strung a few chords,

Played along records,

Then drove over it with my car.

Taking the Train to Work

Rattle, Rattle, Rattle

The stampede, it comes

Carrying its cattle

With all its crumbs

Cringe, Cringe, Cringe

The monster, it sings

The passerby whinge

As the sound rings

Stomp, stomp, stomp

The chasm, mind it

The beast may chomp

Repeating the fit

Rattle, Rattle, Rattle

The can, to continue

You’re in the battle

To increase your value

Remember Me

Looking about me I felt the drip, the blood on the floor made me slip

Once their opportunity rang, with fang, they sang and with club beat me

Now cold, now clapping, now shivering, I began my mighty whining

I felt the uncouth timing of the bell chiming, and away they took me

One guard still has a tooth as a token and away they took me

Yes, a token to remember me!

The first light of day I saw after the fourth call of the cockerel,

 And as one set free amongst the dogs, I tried to run but couldn’t see

Was wrapped, was trapped, was attacked, was burdened with a heavy, foul tree

I crept before my torturers and begged of them what I was to be

Another whip I felt and wept and begged of them what I was to be,

I begged them so to free me.

Such a fury possessed my soul, Hades’ own rage-battalion

Dragged all light from my ambition; death’s delight was my bounty.

Such comfort my perverse heart found in wrath’s anointing

That I laughed before a departed mortal, heedlessly,

Laughed before the law crashed upon me heedlessly,

Oh, sanity had abandoned me.

I fell to my knees, and so my captors tore my apparel-

All saw the gore! By the Roman’s law I was nailed to a tree.

And all could see, they jeered and smeared dust in my eye,

Why, oh why, Yahwe is my trial such a tempest of fury?

Dragged to a hilltop, I am, pushed onward by unruly fury.

Significance, please, forget me!

Agony discovered my wretched body at the skull’s feet,

But behold! There was company, pitiful I was not only,

For two others I found dragging their burdens along the horde.

One, a hard, helpless, cruel man, was flogged for a fierce felony,

The other, fairness covered in crimson, but for what felony?

Between them was tainted me.

The mad mockery made for the fine man like a mighty fleet,

A king, whose coronation brought him a crown that was thornily,

So feeble was his strength by now, that his burden was not his own,

Shaking, scraping the floor, feeling the gore, I wondered of his story.

What solemn sin had summoned him to this juncture in his story?

The thought overshadowed me.

I placed my soul central, wasting wearily as a wastrel,

Justice was my burden, and I suffered for my fallacy.

But what vice would suffice to see this king bare such a sting?

Why such aching for such wonderful, infallible royalty?

We crawled to the pinnacle, I marvelled at his royalty.

The man looked towards me.

The guards, as a piece of meat, placed the King of the Jews on his seat.

As I was poled to the dead ground, I looked to the King wearily,

Amidst all the jeering, I saw at last who it was bleeding.

Like a suddenly birthed seedling, I saw the truth firmly,

Strangely, divine royalty had come to suffer firmly,

It all bewildered me.

The behemoth’s whip sprung to behold the immortal’s flesh rip,

“Speak, noble God, with one word you can rebuke your enemy!”

Yet he hangs, denying his right to see his strength reviving.

Justly, no longer shall I ever walk free; liberty is not for me,

Yet undeservedly does this marvel die beside me,

Darkness crept towards me.

“You! Liberate our carcasses to prove that divine kingship.”

The insolence! Only my Lord’s silence appeased my fury.

I spoke – “A whimsical word of a criminal’s contriving,

This King should not suffer foolish words from one as me,

For all creation is alike, but this wonder is not one as me,

Jesus, remember me.”

The Host of Shade rode on a galleon; prizing their medallion

It covered the Son, finally won - triumph over eternity!

The Pits burst forth into a noxious toxin of rejoicing.

All creation was wondering, when would the Father see?

As I breathed my last, what would the Father see

When he would look at me?

My eyes opened! I beheld a diamond. A bright shining star!

My lungs are filled with wind anew, pain is an absent enemy.

I behold amazingly; humbled, loving, laughing divinity.

The diamond speaks “You begged on a tree to remember me,

Come now and be free, and for eternity laugh with me,

For you asked that of me.” 

Limerick No.3

The greatest story ever told,

Never had one single copy sold,

Because the author’s knave,

Failed to press save,

After he wrote down the gold.

Interview

Question, Answer, Question, Answer

Cunning is the graceful dancer

Another Serving

Curiosity, to such a thing, should not grant honours

But she is an untameable beast that sparks and wonders

The mighty steed pulls my whims in unsavoury direction

The doctor forces me to the table to receive the injection

It is a righteous man’s duty to seek thoughts of a noble nature

I commend thee, righteousness, to find and to capture

The torment that grabs all my senses and deprives me

The fever that begs for one simple task, one simple duty

Rejection of the itch demands all my strength

The integrity must be shielded of hypocrisy for the length

No, I shall be resolute; my hunger shall not be a plaything

I sit before this empty plate and I shall not have another serving.

Damn You, Shakespeare

Fair, my pen can write a sonnet, sweet

But the mere shambles of my paper

Can never desire as equal meet

Avon’s writing; make mine a mere vapour.

Oh, if I could write words beyond compare,

In a world where my work’s alone shall be

Then, my libretto should be seen as fair

And not scattered, amongst more mockery.

But if in solitude my craft finds praise,

And in such a state, a admiration,

Then my critic would solely be in a haze,

Simply offering honour as ration.

So, I persist to note in humble fear

Forever judging; damn you, Shakespeare

Limerick No.2

There once was a mighty old tree

To the ends of the world it could see

But then the lumberjack

Lost his wooden stack

And chopped it for hot cups of tea.

Oizys

“Pen to Paper; Muse do your Magic

Give me stories, may they be tragic

For the shadow is my greatest delight

For my mind finds it at the speed of light”

The poet’s hand has no place for joy

For the metaphor is misfortune’s toy

How then would the muse consent

To a verse in relation to being content?

Zeus’ daughters are easier pleased

With death, loss and love diseased

But I shall not try to delight Saturn

But carry my own cheerful baton!

The Child of Night is exiled from here

Pain and distress, run away in fear

For I bring the other side of life on page

Feel the glory of delight, out of its cage.

Globetrotter

The harbour for the metal birds in the sky

Hosts the universe and exhausts its mind

Was three in New York, now five in Sydney

Yet the toothbrush rests, peacefully, in Tokyo

Beer over the Atlantic, Wine over the Pacific

Remember that apartment somewhere?

Paid a mortgage, quite a decent amount

Apparently too much to have me live in it

John the Baptist and Buddha, today, fly

Arguing the meaning of life and mankind

As I squeeze past to pursue my destiny

To discover substitutes to the onboard video

Hotel rooms are decorated with catastrophic,

Silent, patient, undulated, captivating fear,

As the mind slowly awakes to count

Those days and places that just stare and sit

The holiday marked with the stain of work.

Love, can we just stay at home for now?

Let my heart sink into my own chair,

Let my soul taste my own made food

Can we avoid the others, the berserk?

Please promise me this, make a vow

Let my mind wander on my own stair

Let my voyage, this trip, finally conclude.