Time Runs Out

The world has all the time
All the time in the world
But there's no time left
In this broken hourglass
Sand so dear is cast like cheap dust to the wind

A wailing guitar in the background
Lamenting as only an artist can lament
With vodka's wisdom parsing the situation
Everything let loose is compacted and compounded for maximum effect

We make plans and we lay plans
With time kept in mind
But time has its own mind, and it is capricious
The best laid plains of mice and men, indeed

There's a crack in the heart's of these
And all that was once certain to them is pouring out
They struggle to stopper the loss
But it all just seeps through tightly pressed fingers

All the time in the world
But time's run out

Ex Tempore LIV
M.M. — 29-Jun-2013

"I followed Her"

I followed Her to the coastline one night
Down to the rocks and cliffs one autumn's night
Skyclad and guided by the shadowed full moon

Under a fever-dream's spell I followed a vision
She moved like mist come lately from the sea
Flitting in and out of sight and my mind

Beckoned to the waves and the unknown deeps
I slowly forsook the coils of hardened worlds
And reached out blindly for dream and fantasy

A woman with moonlit silver hair had come for me
Smelling of brine and possessing a beauty much too unreal
I whispered—"Death"—and was all at once no more

Ex Tempore LIII
M.M. — 18-Jun-2013

We the Brave

We the Brave,
Born down by the weight of oceans.
We the dreamers in the dark
Hold back the floods that would take us,
That would drown us mercilessly.
We stand atop the great earth, and we desire.
But with the vastness, as the sky's, comes trial.
Though we stand firm, brazen and steely-eyed, regardless.
Daunted men we are, but dauntless just as much.
There are so many things that burden the heart;
So much that coils round us, to restrict our fiery breath.
But we the Brave,
We face the oncoming swells
With fists clenched and eyes on the awakening horizon.

Ex Tempore LII
M.M. — 16-Jun-2013

Fire, Dance, Drum

Out from the deep night they come
Dancing one after the other
Out from the deep woods
Fire in their eyes
Fire in their hands
Fire lights the way as they dance
And come from the night
From out of the deep woods

Song in their throats
Nature in their motions
One after the other
Spirits of heritage come once more
To chant by the hearths
In fields, by the riverbanks
Up atop the mountains
To tell the tales long forgotten

I saw the people of the wood
Faces of moss and lichen and old beech
Some skyclad, some pelted
These folk of the old religion
Feet on the primeval earth
Heads among the sleeping gods on high

One by one
Out from the night
Out from the deep forest
To the beat of drums and thunder
Fire in the wind
Fire in their hearts
Coming back into the world
With wild dance and wild song

Awakened are the dreaming gods
Though they sleep in the sky, under the earth
Atop the mountains and beneath the rivers
The old ways are stirring once again

One after the other
Out from dark night, from the woods
Fire to light their way
Fire in the dance of forgotten yore
Fire and dance and song
Fire and dance and drum

Ex Tempore LI
M.M. — 11-Jun-2013

"Questioned at the end"

Questioned at the end, "Why?"

"I had to cry, I had to cry—
I had to cry out loud before I died.
My lies of all my life meant nothing
By the receding tide.
So I had to try, I had to— for myself
and for what little of pride I had left.
I was so bitter. I was so unkind.
But at the last—there was nothing
I could hide, not in that whitening light.
And so I cried and I cried, to the sky,
To the summerwind, to Death and to Life.
But what became of my cries?
Does anyone even know that I died?"

Ex Tempore L
M.M. — 06-Jun-2013

Tribute to Robert Frost

I have known the desire in fire;
I have known the bite of ice.
And though both would suffice,
It would seem to me
That the world will end,
Not by flame or by ire,
But by apathy.
However, none of the three
Need contend,
For destruction is a guarantee.

Ex Tempore XLIX
M.M. — 05-Jun-2013

Dead Lover's Ballad

When I first saw her standing there,
Shimmering like the stars above,
As sure as death I knew it was love;
I knew it from the gaze that we first shared.

She stole my heart, as I did hers.
Subversive and riotous like sin,
We were free of reigns of our kin:
"Damned be fate and what we incur!"

But the world would have us apart:
I loved the wrong woman,
Wronged the wrong man.
Wolves would tear and rend our hearts.

To escape was the only way.
Our destination: the bed of the sun.
But men and ravages of a gun
Ended me, and by the brook I lay.

We were to meet at the willow tree,
As promised under the moon;
But I was dead by noon
And now my love weeps for me.

Ex Tempore XLVIII
M.M. — 05-Jun-2013

"When they finally found her"

NB: At face value this composition would appear to allude to the April Jones tragedy, but this was not intentional at the outset.

When they finally found her small body,
discarded by the riverbank like an old doll,
it was a wretched dream that would linger.
She was broken and battered;
a once inviolate orchid brimming with life,
now livid, drowned by rough, brutal hands.
Death came too soon and too heinously
that even the Reaper was loathe to take her.
There were cries and screams and hatred
that filled the nearby village,
which eventually turned to nameless pain and grief.
A mother was left numb, a father grew cold,
an older brother found solace in aimless anger—
the funeral continued after death.
Little Alice went missing for three weeks,
but when they finally found her small body
there no longer was a smile or energy or youth.
Although she was found, she is forever taken.

Ex Tempore XLVII
M.M. — 02-Jun-2013