The Paths of the Dead – Uno


They come! They come!
The Dead they come!
With flickering banners, muted drum
Armoured in fear, The Dead draw near!
By Erech’s Stone, here they atone
Remembered oath, eld days when loath
Isildur’s summons they refuse
Today by Erech they must choose
To obey summons. Rest in peace!
At last Isildur’s curse will cease.

They come! They come!
The Dead are come!
With flickering spears and sounding drum
The Dead appear and drawing near
They storm the ships at Pelargir
Driving the pirates to the sea
To drown – all who attempt to flee
Turn mad with horrors, torments, fear
As the oathbreaking Dead draw near!

They came! They came!
The Dead they came!
The Dead redeemed their tarnished name!
The King appears. Nor the Dead fears.
Twilight flickers on shadowy spears.
Their oath fulfilled. The Dead released.
At last! For when the fighting ceased
A sigh like many thousand leaves
In a dark forest as it grieves
For light lost, life gone: waxes, wanes.
All The Dead left the battle-plains
Where did all those dead spirits go?
No tale tells nor path will show.


Rubaiyat – Existence Uno


What revelations mysterious and dark
Our wisest men have told: to them we hark
And listen to their fables. When they die
They carry with them thence their precious spark.

All forms of Life this world exhibits best:
From man to microbe is Creation Blessed
With overflowing Life that lives awhile
To sport and play: till Death calls all to Rest.

Life clothes herself with every shape and mold
Plants, trees, birds, fish, men, and others untold
She wears and discards every form in turn
As her Creator decreed from of old.

Our spirits dress themselves with mortal shape
Embodied flesh we fasten like a cape
Around our souls to walk upon the earth
Awhile. Until Death door’s opens escape.



Your heart is split. Your soul’s aflame. Indeed, you’ve had it tough.
But have you come so far to say that: enough is enough?

They turned their back on you. They played you false. You called their bluff.
But yet – but yet – have you decided: enough is enough?

Their spiteful malice cut you deep. Ingratitude is rough.
Then comes a day when we conclude that: enough is enough.

It is your call – it always was – how you handle this stuff.
You can ignore it. Play along. Or say: enough’s enough.

When you’ve resolved to see it through: be firm – then you won’t muff
What must be done. Though your heart bleeds. For: enough is enough.

Present Now

Time out of Mind

My life’s neither Past nor Future: I exist in the Present Now.
I don’t understand what Time’s nature is: what it is, why it is, or how.
All I know is the Past has transpired, and the Future has not yet come.
Only Now really is – in the realest sense. Only Present is truly home.

You can fantasize with vain dreamings: what Futures might yet still show
Or self-introspect yourself day by day about Pasts that have brought you low.
Neither Pasts nor Futures are real right now: Past is gone, Future’s yet to be.
Only Present existence contains our minds – if our eyes can but truly see.

I can live – and change – but the Present. That is challenge enough, I trow.
Living life to the full means the Present Time – means to live in the Present Now.

Legends of King Arthur – The Flight of Genevieve

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Estranged from friends, alone in mental drouth
His victories turned ashes in his mouth
Arthur in inner turmoil sits. A king
Of shadows. King in name. How anything
Can be made right? oppresses the king’s mind.
In whom can truth and faithfulness he find?
His wife is false. His ex best-friend likewise.
Arthur despairs of wisdom. How he tries
To cut the Gordian knots that bind his life!
He mourns his Genevieve, his faithless wife.
His anger burns a moment. To repay
On those whose vile deceit had found its way
To gnaw within the heart of his own realm
To spread their canker wide to overwhelm:
His rule, his life, his kingdom, and his throne.
What penalty this evil could atone?
How can such base deeds ever be undone?
To whom can the king trust – if anyone?

King Arthur sits. Disturb him none now dare.
Arthur for hours stares dully, unaware
Of ought but pain-wracked sorrow in his breast.
His path forward is dark, its end half-guessed.
His pain shuts out all thought except betrayal.
The Table Round intact – how could he fail?
Round Table broken – how could he succeed?
Now many knights would be condemned to bleed
To revenge injuries, to right his wrong.
Tomorrow he would rise and come forth strong:
A warrior to command what must be done.
But now, the king observes the setting sun
And moving not – keeps vigil through the night.
His attendants all keep far out of sight.
King Arthur’s thoughts – moody, angry and sad
Grieve for the past that’s lost. For what he had.
For what he thought was his in days bygone.
Soon comes the dawn. The king must carry on!
Alone, some tears slow-trickle while asleep.
King Arthur – as a man – lets himself weep.

Dawn has arrived. The king encased in steel
Demands his levies for the commonweal,
Commands his knights to summon men-at-arms,
Blares forth his trumpets. Sounds martial alarms.
The king, larger than life, readies to ride
His fate – and many others – to decide.
Majestic now he rides, royal and strong.
For vengeance. For redress. For Right or Wrong.


Facebook icon

Facebook I love. It has allure
Because each moment I am sure
I’ll get a ‘like’, ‘share’, or message
From friends upon my Facebook page.

Facebook gives social validation
To reassure me in my station
That my ‘friends’ all like me still
Online. At least I hope they will.

For who now wants to be alone
With their own thoughts? We all are prone
To escape thinking easily
By clicking on new things to see.

Facebook is my pleasant escape
External impacts that will shape
My real life in bad ways. So I flee:
Logon to Facebook instantly.

We social addicts love the thrill
Of instant feedback. So we will
Surf social networks seamlessly
Escaping dull reality.