At the Centre of the World

O, ‘what a piece of work is man!’
Reverberating throughout the empty hall
of the crumbling cathedral, stand
the inky shadows of a godforsaken ball.

Humans are fascinating, truly,
though he modestly walks among them all;
at times than nature still more unruly,
at times like the servants of her masterful call.

To whom and where do their rivers owe,
when the moonlight is colder than the drifting stone?
Why do they deny what they knowingly know?
Upon their innocence the bloody fields have grown.

O, what mysteries this world hides!
May one day he caress her undraped form?
Of valleys and mountains he politely scribes,
yet still the heart is a perplexing storm.

Do they the tears of cassis desire?
Why do we from our loves resign?
When all things must one day expire,
by fate must parting with embrace entwine.

Are you my friends the ghosts of my mind?
How should I know, I’m at the centre of the world.
Never shall we our own silhouettes find,
we’re all at the centre of this uncaring world.

Published in: on 15/04/2018 at 1:38 AM  Leave a Comment  

Be Careful of What You Wish for

Be careful of what you wish for,
for a boulder may fall out of the sky;
the unfeeling world hears no implores,
the mighty captain cannot the whirlpool fight.

Be careful of what you wish for,
for eyes see not the imps being lured,
when cherry drips cling to childhood lores,
widowed we are from our truths conjured.

Be careful of what you wish for,
your valiant quest shall no one impress;
though untiring you are for the love you swore,
like the thousands who fell, like your stubborn demise.

Be careful of what you wish for,
for wishes are not what’s in store;
though unyielding you are for the beauty you adore,
the story ends by a dusty seashore. 

Be careful of what you wish for,
for wishes our treasures like to tore;
for justice our ideal has in faith inherited,
injustice from the Sydney rumbles we ignore. 

Be careful of what you wish for,
when wishes we have grown to abhor;
in the growling of the trains and torrenting streets,
we pay for our sanctity before a no-exit door.

Published in: on 15/04/2018 at 12:22 AM  Leave a Comment