The Mirage of death

Scared are we?
good,
then we shall begin.
BLaaa
how boring.

blaaa and flerrrm.
ant rhdueowuhw;an ai[jcka c...........................


New Orleans 1945

As if to know

As if to know the scences are one,
we fall before the earthly sun,
to see beyond all fables sung,
to roam beneath the setting sun.
To dwell in nightime shadows free,
to move toward the serpent sea,
to feel emotion wild and free,
to sleep beneath the orchids be.
Awake into the new born light,
set back for the end of time,
the ryme the stars the moon is thine,
the empty vessel be filled with wine.

Vienna 1847

Ode to hope

The tragic figure doth stand forlorne,
no understanding for why he was born,
A ghost no less,
tall and frail,
witnessing every attempt at life fail.

No room at the inn,
no love in his heart,
is it any wonder he is falling apart?

Hope is a whore,
who endlessly lies,
for tonight,
alone,
he'll sleep beneath winter skies.

Bombay 1899

Oh for the Stoics

Oh for the stoics in their muted cages,
as I present them with madness,
Oh for the gaurd and keep that cannot restrain my mind.
Freedom I taste,
bitter their repose,
for wills of iron,
fail at the feet of a rose.

Their glorious stations,
they hold for life,
to question for years their trouble and strife,
when in the end as we all know,
the curtain will fall,
on this ridiculous show.

For in my mind,
I glance a bird,
who sails through life,
without a word,
of judgment for his feathered kin,
no knowledge of reason,
no knowledge of sin.
The beasts in the wood,
and the demons below,
writhe in their sickness,
never to know,
of peace or change,
for everythings new,
for food and shelter they continue to pursue.

Of rhythm of ryme we close our hearts,
the head connected to the various parts,
the brain the heart,
desires refrain,
the shadow of chaos,
and the distraction of pain.

Joseph Blake

Madrid 1244

The storm

I can hear it all, I can taste the air, for this night we rest under the stars. Will the winds howl? will the sky cry? will the cold present itself with formidable teeth? we wonder.

This night the wolves will howl,
this night the clouds will roam,
this night the air will taste of fear,

This night your dreams will arm you,
this night your dreams will protect you.

The Words

So here we are true to ourselves and failing to understand the misfortunate, finding it so much easier to condemn the poor souls than empathise with their situations, and their loss of direction, for its quite possible they were never to know the right path. Come back next life for your efforts will not be in vain.

In addition I would like to stream the magnificent and curse the water. Sage almighty take words away, for we have heard so many. There is no truth to this, thats were you are all going wrong. There is no God no devil, these are just words that sail endlessly into the void of forgetfulness. You can say anything and the words are gone. No one hears anything anymore, they are all on drugs....and if they are not, they should be x.

This is not for the faint-hearted, speech far from me. I rage I burn, I cast shadows into the fire, sing this merry dance my friends for time is against us. Roll through chaos effortlessly and be guided by the divine, for we are not slaves any more, are we? I care to hear the words of others.. I am the crow in the tree. I am the dreamer. and my words are my friends, to the bitter end.

The more I die the more I know.

We are cast into oblivion, no matter the toil are bones cannot finish the task at hand. For the seasons will take over and our souls will return. We are a spark in the ether, we are falling leaves. I have been caught many times by delicate fingers as I have falllen through the realms of thought. There have been times when I have caught my wings on the wind and flown effortlessly through space and time, though sadly from there I witness the decay of my friends and loved ones as time drapes its unwelcome arms around them.

The more I die the more I know.

The Myriad and the Scarecrow

The Myriad and the Scarecrow.

Time does not care for your pain,

For what feelings do you hold towards time other than contempt?

Why should time be your friend?

for you endlessly curse him.

The Myriad and the Scarecrow gaze out into space as the seasons erode each other,

The crows can but laugh,

as the dawn breaks once more.

Joseph Blake

Prague 1862

The Raging Seas

The Raging Seas.

Hell awaits out there,

The raging seas in my soul,

Formulated chaos and dead kings,

Servants of  dark magicians bind themselves to themselves.

For the fear of loss,

and the collapse of reality.

Athena 1643

My Kingdom of rags.

The lines are pictures falling away,

They move with the sun,

And die everyday.

As each flash passes,

The stone sigh sheer.

Sweet colours divided,

Year after year.

For thee my unwashed feet,

For thee my kingdom of rags,

For thee my dearest of words,

For they are all I have.

Nazareth 33AD

these are the visions of genius, these are moments in time. This is the colour that flows through belief.

Construct of poetry

For to see beyond a verse of thought, we must to look away and forever be in awe.....