Star Rising

A "sequel" to Fallen Star (2011)

Up from down the ocean deep
Rose with haste the fallen beast

Awoke from sleep the dreaming son
And shone in night as shadowed sun

His howling reverberating the frozen earth
Cracking the chrysalis from which he birthed

Mind half shattered but wholly steeled
Not to dogma or deity would ever yield

Son of the sun, flung from heights
But starlight still as bright as his fight

Holding fast with a heavy heart
Leaden soul streaming supernal art

Soon eternal dreamer no longer
But risen from abyssal prison stronger

Cries of thunder marking the end
End of fear and shame and discontent

The star rose from the deep
Bringing blackest dreams from darkest sleep

Poem XLII
M.M. — 31-Jul-2014

Parasite

Seed was somehow implanted
—know not how
Ovulation by formless mother
Gestation in mind: starless night
It dreams and dreams
Dark and cold and ugly themes
Talks with thoughts to me
Serenades of static noise
Or reverberations from abyss
Its eyes everywhere, always staring
Seeing everything within and beyond
Seed burrows deeper with every dream
Incubating, awaiting - not birth - but rebirth
Feel it in fingers, pulsating beneath skin
Behind eyes, and worse with eyes closed
Wants to bring dreams forth from veil
To burst from seed, from obsidian shell
Black glass like mirror
Black like starless night of womb
Impregnated in the core of all-me
Birth is very close now...

Ex Tempore LXXXII 
M.M. — 27-Jul-2014

Just Breathe

There is an iron hand on your chest
—But just remember to breathe
They question what you are
They will always decide who you should to be
—But just remember to breathe
This cage you find yourself in
The prison of your body and of your mind
—But just remember to breathe
Thrown yourself against the wall to stop the pain
—But just remember to breathe
This is an endless road to nowhere
That you began walking long ago
—But just remember to breathe
They will never know all that you really are
They are not, and never will be, you
—So always remember to just breathe

 Ex Tempore LXXXI
M.M. — 21-Jul-2014

"He was a small man"

He was a small man with big dreams
and a mind much too unquiet,
filled with themes dark or loud
or proud or just a bit unkind.
There was so much more in
his core, so much waiting to be
realised and given to the world.
Out from the deep wells
he wished to hurl the thunder,
chaos and quakes that tore him asunder.
Colours of a light unseen and unknown
to others. This star raging in the night;
the comet's impetus propelling and
impeding him all at once. And
in the night, he was lost and yet
there grew and burgeoned as
architect of all that he knew himself be.
Promethean, fire-stealer, knowledge-bringer:
hot as hell the maelstroms churned.
He was a a small man but his dreams
streamed and darted within his mind,
and he would see them into the world.

Poem XLI
M.M. — 20-Jul-2014