Submission to an Ancient Light

Submission to an ancient light
and importune and unseen fortune.
Decrepit and beleaguered;
Reminiscent or malingered;
Cast to the wind and the sun,
a forecast of light-hearted fun.
Ubiquitous, emphatic, omniscient;
Prototypical and ecumenically
A hebdomadal tribute to the one and only,
of a nepotic aberration, one or all...you or me.
To an open door all that seems to be
Is nothing more than a sight through a closed
And aureate vignette of life to a passing homily.
Nonsensical in a way which is easy to understand,
I speak the language of the words through my pen
to my hand.
Into the paper of life I've been given, to what
I design and what I've been living.
Hidden in a guise, left to me by a vagrant
Who's place i knew not.
Only where he was going and from whence he came,
Never where he stood or even his name.
To that i give my regards, for not once do i
Contemplate the past and the shards
of time. Or me. Of everything i believe,
For the time, if i ever thought it then,
Is upon me now as i write it through the nib of my pen.


yeah stream of consciousness!!!

A Lasting Unimpression

A Lasting Unimpression:

A lasting unimpression has left me here
alone, by the fireside of forgotten time.
Work to do, things I should, there isn't enough
time for everything I would.
Self-indulgence is for me to see and you to question, and
Time after time to leave a lasting impression.
But what of it?
I knew this was going to happen - not so
severely however it may be.
A pen on paper is distraction enough for me.
To feel a page enlivened with thought
is what I seek.
To fill these leaves with everything I think.
To call it me and say it's mine
To impress upon the rest the significance of
what they find.
They've found me, my thought, my eyes.
Grandiloquent though it may be, I find it
Hard for me to think of an easier way
To write what I can, and not what I say.