When the wolves return to the room, and ravage and rage once again, swarming and tearing you and themselves apart, seek the calm in the midst of chaos. The brooks and the slow rivers flow from the centre-mind. When the walls begin to crack and collapse once more, entwine with the still beating, still fighting heart. The world continues to whirl round but you must continue reversed; fall away from the ever-descending stair. Hold fast, hold on to strength, even in the savage slaughter of the wolves, and always bite back.
Ex Tempore LXXXIX
M.M. — 11-Oct-2014
11 October 2014
"Come the end"
Come the end, at the edge
of the desert of night,
we took in one last terminal breath--
one last reason to fight--
and saw all that we once were;
all that we once had.
And realised that life past
was all we ever wanted,
all that we wished for and more.
So there at the crossing
we fell to the starless floor
and hurt and burst and birthed
and rose again, aflame, once more.
Ex Tempore LXXXVIII
M.M. — 24-Sep-2014
of the desert of night,
we took in one last terminal breath--
one last reason to fight--
and saw all that we once were;
all that we once had.
And realised that life past
was all we ever wanted,
all that we wished for and more.
So there at the crossing
we fell to the starless floor
and hurt and burst and birthed
and rose again, aflame, once more.
Ex Tempore LXXXVIII
M.M. — 24-Sep-2014
"Inside me, inside you"
Inside me, inside you,
Inside us all: a tree.
In every tree, and every leaf,
In every root: a life.
From death, from life,
From all between: a time.
Come time, comes dreams,
Comes what you are: a being.
Being here, and one day to be gone,
Be full and be all: be your own song.
Ex Tempore LXXXVII
M.M. — 02-Oct-2014
Inside us all: a tree.
In every tree, and every leaf,
In every root: a life.
From death, from life,
From all between: a time.
Come time, comes dreams,
Comes what you are: a being.
Being here, and one day to be gone,
Be full and be all: be your own song.
Ex Tempore LXXXVII
M.M. — 02-Oct-2014
07 September 2014
"Salvation shall be found in my fall"
Salvation shall be found in my fall
When I am cast down from dogmatic heights
I will fall toward the phalanxes of Love
And its upward-pointed piercing spears
Into the arms and caresses of the inner shining light
That dwells deep within the earthen mould
The mould of ash and gold, of flesh and stardust
A dweller in darkness become, to prise wide eyes
Seeking Promethean flame in the ice-plains of the South
Wanderer, the wanderer in the night, bringer of light
Forsaking self to rebuild atom by atom the self
Or perhaps to grow and to evolve and to form
The residual echoes of a long-muffled song
Will be symphony once more, and down on the floor
I gaze upon the vault of the celestial sphere
And ready my throbbing, outstretched pinions
To ascend as unshackled son, son of the sun
Ex Tempore LXXXVI
M.M. — 07-Sep-2014
When I am cast down from dogmatic heights
I will fall toward the phalanxes of Love
And its upward-pointed piercing spears
Into the arms and caresses of the inner shining light
That dwells deep within the earthen mould
The mould of ash and gold, of flesh and stardust
A dweller in darkness become, to prise wide eyes
Seeking Promethean flame in the ice-plains of the South
Wanderer, the wanderer in the night, bringer of light
Forsaking self to rebuild atom by atom the self
Or perhaps to grow and to evolve and to form
The residual echoes of a long-muffled song
Will be symphony once more, and down on the floor
I gaze upon the vault of the celestial sphere
And ready my throbbing, outstretched pinions
To ascend as unshackled son, son of the sun
Ex Tempore LXXXVI
M.M. — 07-Sep-2014
27 August 2014
"She stands at the foot of the bed"
She stands at the foot of the bed,
arousal palpable in the ambience of the room.
Lights dimmed low, illuminating the rising heat in the air.
She stands like a bedevilled Eve in the garden of passion;
smooth, delicate—tautened strength in supple limbs.
A shift and a motion and the warm light quivers as she draws closer.
Electric storms like love's naïve, expectant first kiss.
Coronal mass ejections like the relenting of higher wills.
A staggering, a stifling and a kinetic chaos
—then a succumbing, a slowing and an enfolding collapse.
Her silver whispers stir residually quavering darkness
as sleep starts to steal us away into lesser dreams.
Ex Tempore LXXXV
M.M. — 27-Aug-2014
arousal palpable in the ambience of the room.
Lights dimmed low, illuminating the rising heat in the air.
She stands like a bedevilled Eve in the garden of passion;
smooth, delicate—tautened strength in supple limbs.
A shift and a motion and the warm light quivers as she draws closer.
Electric storms like love's naïve, expectant first kiss.
Coronal mass ejections like the relenting of higher wills.
A staggering, a stifling and a kinetic chaos
—then a succumbing, a slowing and an enfolding collapse.
Her silver whispers stir residually quavering darkness
as sleep starts to steal us away into lesser dreams.
Ex Tempore LXXXV
M.M. — 27-Aug-2014
24 August 2014
Monolith
The monolith stands imperiously deep inside,
tendrils deeply rooted and extending far into the core
and into peripheries. Sometimes obsidian-black obelisk,
sometimes billion-year moribund sun eclipsing everything.
In its vasculature, branching in itself fractally, flows
thick fluid of starless night that pollutes the estuaries of
thought and dream. The monolith is nourished when fear
is sown and reaped in fields of beleaguered heart.
Dynamic as life when life is beset by tides of turbulent sea
and lightning from an electrically painted sky—And the sky
always filled with swirling vortices of dark and sodden grey cloud.
The shadow of the monolith is the shadow of self-doubt,
and there in the suffocating shade light is starved and slain.
It speaks in infrasonic reverberations, in a language of silken darkness.
It suggests, it hints and implies, it weaves possibilities and futures—
The forks in the path, that lead back on themselves, are of the monolith's design.
The struggle against it is endless; it stains hands black and reveals
the voids and chasms that perforate even the most armoured mind.
Lightless and imposing stands the monolith deep at the centre;
solid, fluid and eternal, the monolith erected itself deep in the heart.
Ex Tempore LXXXIV
M.M. — 24-Aug-2014
tendrils deeply rooted and extending far into the core
and into peripheries. Sometimes obsidian-black obelisk,
sometimes billion-year moribund sun eclipsing everything.
In its vasculature, branching in itself fractally, flows
thick fluid of starless night that pollutes the estuaries of
thought and dream. The monolith is nourished when fear
is sown and reaped in fields of beleaguered heart.
Dynamic as life when life is beset by tides of turbulent sea
and lightning from an electrically painted sky—And the sky
always filled with swirling vortices of dark and sodden grey cloud.
The shadow of the monolith is the shadow of self-doubt,
and there in the suffocating shade light is starved and slain.
It speaks in infrasonic reverberations, in a language of silken darkness.
It suggests, it hints and implies, it weaves possibilities and futures—
The forks in the path, that lead back on themselves, are of the monolith's design.
The struggle against it is endless; it stains hands black and reveals
the voids and chasms that perforate even the most armoured mind.
Lightless and imposing stands the monolith deep at the centre;
solid, fluid and eternal, the monolith erected itself deep in the heart.
Ex Tempore LXXXIV
M.M. — 24-Aug-2014
20 August 2014
The Toll of Midnight
The ticking tells me it grows near
The clicking of heels in halls of fear
That Midnight draws ever near
Panting of breath and dripping sweat
I meet my nightmares where we once met
Stolen to the black and to terror swept
I lose myself under the vault of night
Beholding horrors and nameless sights
Soul becoming frigid, murdering its own light
Voiceless I scream faced with faceless things
Over-choired by harmonies that sing
Of nothingness and near-forgotten hauntings
Madness lies in the ticking of the clock
Fear like wolves stalking the timid flock
Waiting by the door for death's terminal knock
It is the encroaching, the slow succumbing
The thing I fear most—its becoming
The toll of Midnight's nightly coming
Ex Tempore LXXXIII
M.M. — 20-Aug-2014
The clicking of heels in halls of fear
That Midnight draws ever near
Panting of breath and dripping sweat
I meet my nightmares where we once met
Stolen to the black and to terror swept
I lose myself under the vault of night
Beholding horrors and nameless sights
Soul becoming frigid, murdering its own light
Voiceless I scream faced with faceless things
Over-choired by harmonies that sing
Of nothingness and near-forgotten hauntings
Madness lies in the ticking of the clock
Fear like wolves stalking the timid flock
Waiting by the door for death's terminal knock
It is the encroaching, the slow succumbing
The thing I fear most—its becoming
The toll of Midnight's nightly coming
Ex Tempore LXXXIII
M.M. — 20-Aug-2014
06 August 2014
Gyromagnetic. A metapoem. [Incomplete]
Inspired by the basic phenomenon of the science of my PhD: magnetic resonance; and by the patterns that abound in the nuclear and macroscopic worlds.
All things in this world reverberate. The Frequency of Essence permeates through everything, in my voice as much as it does in quasars – the universe speaking.
What we are and what we do is but rhythm and echo. We repeat the same mistakes and emit values to harmonise into existence the ideals we believe to be of perfect form.
The ordinary in us is a monotone drone. Continuous and predictable till the signal dies out with nary an aspirant spike. The great, the unique, the marvellous – these are deviations in the frequency, shifts in time and power in the oscillations. The previously unknown echoes that break through the noise.
And love surely is the most maddening of spirals. Whether upward or downward, emanating or decaying, the never-ending spinning of body and mind transforms us to something of higher state or leads us to self-perpetuated annihilation. The beat of hearts and the songs hummed in the dark and the truths repeated, wordless but resounding just the same.
Doubtless, then, all things in this world reverberate, reverberate in unison.
Metapoem IV
M.M. — 06-Aug-2014
All things in this world reverberate. The Frequency of Essence permeates through everything, in my voice as much as it does in quasars – the universe speaking.
What we are and what we do is but rhythm and echo. We repeat the same mistakes and emit values to harmonise into existence the ideals we believe to be of perfect form.
The ordinary in us is a monotone drone. Continuous and predictable till the signal dies out with nary an aspirant spike. The great, the unique, the marvellous – these are deviations in the frequency, shifts in time and power in the oscillations. The previously unknown echoes that break through the noise.
And love surely is the most maddening of spirals. Whether upward or downward, emanating or decaying, the never-ending spinning of body and mind transforms us to something of higher state or leads us to self-perpetuated annihilation. The beat of hearts and the songs hummed in the dark and the truths repeated, wordless but resounding just the same.
Doubtless, then, all things in this world reverberate, reverberate in unison.
Metapoem IV
M.M. — 06-Aug-2014
31 July 2014
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
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
27 July 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
—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
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