30 December 2013
Greatness
A defining mark of great individuals is that they are in themselves a force and a time. A force because their actions oscillate through their own environment and the environment of those proximal to them; a time because their force imprints on reality for an enduring period. But greatness is not exclusive to those who history remembers. Each person, known and unknown, has greatness in them, for they too are a force and a time. In their own lives they are capable of sending ripples through their microcosm and leaving upon their personal histories a mark of significance. It is only a question of whether this greatness is harnessed.
08 December 2013
Dragon
A decade of abuse and terror enslaved her.
She was locked in a cage both in her mind
and in her life. Afraid of the night and sleep
because he came when the lights went out.
Disgust, shame and fear tore at this innocent.
Until that day when the Dragon in her awoke
and those reptilian wings tattooed on her back
became real, bursting through from flesh, bone
and blood. From then on the darkness was no
longer her warden: fire had become her breath
and fire burnt to cinders the pain and the fear.
Ex Tempore LXXI
M.M. — 08-Dec-2013
She was locked in a cage both in her mind
and in her life. Afraid of the night and sleep
because he came when the lights went out.
Disgust, shame and fear tore at this innocent.
Until that day when the Dragon in her awoke
and those reptilian wings tattooed on her back
became real, bursting through from flesh, bone
and blood. From then on the darkness was no
longer her warden: fire had become her breath
and fire burnt to cinders the pain and the fear.
Ex Tempore LXXI
M.M. — 08-Dec-2013
26 November 2013
Sapiosexual
When she walked into the room
I found myself consumed
by an outpacing heat.
My heart then felt it soon,
falling into a swoon,
stepping to a military beat.
Electricity in her eyes
and razors for thighs,
she sliced as she went.
Her voice, a sweet lullaby,
that could bed the sun up high:
her words had me spent.
But the sharpness of her glance
and that neck-breaker stance
could not compare to her mind.
Straight through like a lance,
her thoughts slowly advanced,
as mine charged hers in kind.
She and I collided as two,
and into her everything I through,
until we were much like one.
Giving all I believed and knew
because then and there I knew
my heart and mind she had won.
Ex Tempore LXX
M.M. — 26-Nov-2013
I found myself consumed
by an outpacing heat.
My heart then felt it soon,
falling into a swoon,
stepping to a military beat.
Electricity in her eyes
and razors for thighs,
she sliced as she went.
Her voice, a sweet lullaby,
that could bed the sun up high:
her words had me spent.
But the sharpness of her glance
and that neck-breaker stance
could not compare to her mind.
Straight through like a lance,
her thoughts slowly advanced,
as mine charged hers in kind.
She and I collided as two,
and into her everything I through,
until we were much like one.
Giving all I believed and knew
because then and there I knew
my heart and mind she had won.
Ex Tempore LXX
M.M. — 26-Nov-2013
24 November 2013
"What was Her name?"
What was Her name?
She came robed in night with the stars in Her hair,
A whirlwind fever-dream that dimmed all the lights.
Breath sweet like death's deceitful grace and embrace.
Cold to the touch and yet a blaze in Her eyes
That burned through the haze that She wove.
No words from those livid lips; but a kiss, both ice and fire.
From me She took, or rather, to Her I gave my life and light.
And so now I will be dead by dawn; to Her a prize that She swiftly won.
And never will I know whom or what stole my glow.
What was Her name?
Ex Tempore LXIX
M.M. — 24-Nov-2013
She came robed in night with the stars in Her hair,
A whirlwind fever-dream that dimmed all the lights.
Breath sweet like death's deceitful grace and embrace.
Cold to the touch and yet a blaze in Her eyes
That burned through the haze that She wove.
No words from those livid lips; but a kiss, both ice and fire.
From me She took, or rather, to Her I gave my life and light.
And so now I will be dead by dawn; to Her a prize that She swiftly won.
And never will I know whom or what stole my glow.
What was Her name?
Ex Tempore LXIX
M.M. — 24-Nov-2013
20 November 2013
Synapse
I stand by myself inside myself;
disconnecting myself from myself,
coursing along the fibrous channels.
The colours are so much more alive with my eyes closed.
Electrochemical firestorm,
a synchronous, oscillating universe reflecting on itself.
How long the journey? how far the voyage?
The answer lies in the distance of the synaptic cleft.
Ex Tempore LXXIII
M.M. — 20-Nov-2013
disconnecting myself from myself,
coursing along the fibrous channels.
The colours are so much more alive with my eyes closed.
Electrochemical firestorm,
a synchronous, oscillating universe reflecting on itself.
How long the journey? how far the voyage?
The answer lies in the distance of the synaptic cleft.
Ex Tempore LXXIII
M.M. — 20-Nov-2013
11 November 2013
The 11th of November
Eyes that still tell so much, despite the glaucoma,
and that had seen too much.
Seemingly so fragile in that chair,
but back then a stone against the waves.
*
I ran into Death earlier today,
he was counting from his list by the wayside.
I stopped and said,
How goes the tally, my old friend?
He looked at me
and simply nodded in affirmation.
*
In the Davies' house in Rhymney
a photo of him stands at attention.
He was very popular round the village,
she says, with troubled hands.
*
The fields have long been overgrown in Flanders
and the air long cleared.
The earth holds in it memories, mostly terrible ones.
But there, by the autumned trees—
only the flowers have to suffer winter's cold now.
Ex Tempore LXXII
M.M. — 11-Nov-2013
and that had seen too much.
Seemingly so fragile in that chair,
but back then a stone against the waves.
*
I ran into Death earlier today,
he was counting from his list by the wayside.
I stopped and said,
How goes the tally, my old friend?
He looked at me
and simply nodded in affirmation.
*
In the Davies' house in Rhymney
a photo of him stands at attention.
He was very popular round the village,
she says, with troubled hands.
*
The fields have long been overgrown in Flanders
and the air long cleared.
The earth holds in it memories, mostly terrible ones.
But there, by the autumned trees—
only the flowers have to suffer winter's cold now.
Ex Tempore LXXII
M.M. — 11-Nov-2013
02 November 2013
"Rain is falling"
Rain is falling upon their heads
They who fought but now are dead
With belief and strong will and heart
They stood together and yet apart
Women, men, children—one and all
Cold and lifeless under funeral pall
But once so full of life and steely sight
They all answered the call to fight
A fight for right, for life and liberty
To reseed freedom's fallen tree
And though it may seem all in vain
Yes, high was the price they paid
But the spring once more has found its flow
And embered hope regains its glow
The dead, they pass on to you and me
And all those wishing to be free
The courage and strength and will to live
For which everything I would gladly give
Ex Tempore LXXI
M.M. — 02-Nov-2013
They who fought but now are dead
With belief and strong will and heart
They stood together and yet apart
Women, men, children—one and all
Cold and lifeless under funeral pall
But once so full of life and steely sight
They all answered the call to fight
A fight for right, for life and liberty
To reseed freedom's fallen tree
And though it may seem all in vain
Yes, high was the price they paid
But the spring once more has found its flow
And embered hope regains its glow
The dead, they pass on to you and me
And all those wishing to be free
The courage and strength and will to live
For which everything I would gladly give
Ex Tempore LXXI
M.M. — 02-Nov-2013
30 October 2013
The Birth of Fire
When I first discovered the fire inside me I was ambling in the dark;
I was a man in the body and in the life of a boy,
a god confined by the reality permitted by circumstance or accident.
I could not foresee where its light would take me,
but the ignition drew me in—deep and deeper still—into myself.
I was my own Prometheus, but stealing the fire from myself and giving to myself.
The flames reveal the tracks that lead to a thousand and different ambitions and futures.
These, I know now, have always been there, but before were unseen with my infant sight.
At times I may lose the feel of the burning,
but it never extinguishes—every time it comes back to me its blaze is just as fierce as before,
or even more so.
The fire is everywhere in me:
I see it in my hands, my body,
in my mind, in my paths and ways.
It is everything.
The fire at the beginning was a mere glow.
But now? Now the fire is an inferno—and I aim to set my fucking world on fire.
Ex Tempore LXX
M.M. — 30-Oct-2013
I was a man in the body and in the life of a boy,
a god confined by the reality permitted by circumstance or accident.
I could not foresee where its light would take me,
but the ignition drew me in—deep and deeper still—into myself.
I was my own Prometheus, but stealing the fire from myself and giving to myself.
The flames reveal the tracks that lead to a thousand and different ambitions and futures.
These, I know now, have always been there, but before were unseen with my infant sight.
At times I may lose the feel of the burning,
but it never extinguishes—every time it comes back to me its blaze is just as fierce as before,
or even more so.
The fire is everywhere in me:
I see it in my hands, my body,
in my mind, in my paths and ways.
It is everything.
The fire at the beginning was a mere glow.
But now? Now the fire is an inferno—and I aim to set my fucking world on fire.
Ex Tempore LXX
M.M. — 30-Oct-2013
29 October 2013
"it was the eyes"
it was the eyes
that tried and tried
and finally pried
opened the doors
of the soul and all
therein, wherein
shadowy and timid
love simmered;
or thighs like scythes
that tower to heights
where in the sky
the kingdom's walls
fall to thunder, torn
asunder by a simple
kiss from a fount of
blissful waters,
cauterising the open
wounds from which
seeped through
breath, and in: death.
yes, the lips ripped
fear away, so that dear
life ran reddened once
more, forevermore;
in her mind as I in hers.
Ex Tempore LXIX
M.M. — 29-Oct-2013
that tried and tried
and finally pried
opened the doors
of the soul and all
therein, wherein
shadowy and timid
love simmered;
or thighs like scythes
that tower to heights
where in the sky
the kingdom's walls
fall to thunder, torn
asunder by a simple
kiss from a fount of
blissful waters,
cauterising the open
wounds from which
seeped through
breath, and in: death.
yes, the lips ripped
fear away, so that dear
life ran reddened once
more, forevermore;
in her mind as I in hers.
Ex Tempore LXIX
M.M. — 29-Oct-2013
28 October 2013
The Rider
The rider came from beyond the dawn
With a body weary but a spirit strong
And with him the day's morning song
On sable mare he had travelled long
To wherever his heart was flung
Where clouds and fear lowly hung
A sword bright as light to which he clung
Fatally known to those whom it had stung
Unsheathed with still unmistakable hum
But the rider's end had finally come
All debts were paid and all deeds done
His recompense, his requested sum:
To rest forever in the morning sun
Ex Tempore LXVIII
M.M. — 28-Oct-2013
With a body weary but a spirit strong
And with him the day's morning song
On sable mare he had travelled long
To wherever his heart was flung
Where clouds and fear lowly hung
A sword bright as light to which he clung
Fatally known to those whom it had stung
Unsheathed with still unmistakable hum
But the rider's end had finally come
All debts were paid and all deeds done
His recompense, his requested sum:
To rest forever in the morning sun
Ex Tempore LXVIII
M.M. — 28-Oct-2013
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