*Reserata Carcerem XLIV*
Yore, chewed churning curse sewn sage -
ñ an urchin did he spit rasp rage;
ñ bounty bicycle had h' ridden.
Alas! Moist murk his tarred tog cl'ven.
Anon, tottered by th' urchin's sire,
'n' apt acumen rehearsed th' transpired.
Only t' know th' sewn sage for his sire -
his callous urchin smeared grandsire?
"Holla, sire.", sunny sire did quethe,
fanning wanky wind's sumptuous spree.
"Holla!", smothered sage sewn scarred runes,
but skittish urchin t' his sire flew.
Went then torn trio t' th' sage's eyry;
"Ruef'l thou'll be!", th' tune feral tongue leased.
'20:07:13:14:39
Note:
a) Of inky impatience.
b) Written apace with Middle English:
i) Yore - long ago
ii) Alas - sorrowful exclamation
iii) Anon - Immediately
iv) Sire - father
v) Quethe - say
c) The following are used with no syllabic consequences:
i) ñ - on
ii) h' - he
iii) 'n' - and
iv) t' - to
v) th' - the
vi) ruef'l - rueful
Special,
she came
she finally came out
out of the dark, the shadow
cut down from the rope that binds
leaving just The Word behind
we are blind when we don't see
not the surface but the grains
of time, of circumstance
leading and misleading
followers only looking for trust
who shall they trust if not their eyes
their hearts?
their minds?
it's a different time, evolved with a different kind
set in a different space
a separate place
a dying human race
we race for information but we don't dig
we take words for truth
even if only heard from one mouth
baby birds chirping for her food
any morsel will do
she
not like the rest
delves deep
into the context
finding filler from fluff
weeding out the mindless stuff
the misspoke, the unawoke
or aware
she came
and the rest just disappeared
Hero,
“Love is a hero’s journey, and the hero’s journey is a noble but difficult path.” — Marianne Williamson
winter wears and wanders in
shaking and frigid
each step taken
ached, iced and frozen
there's a crackling under foot
hearts turn to run
into the black forest of empty
where soot has made her home
but I turn towards yours
holding summer heat
breaking away the pack
feigning
circle squeezing hacks
dining in your fire, your spirit
your warmth and sunshine silhouette
south, south they say
but I will stay and I will wait
under the tree of Avalon
snow sparkles in the dawn
air lingers in my breath
I feel desire in the whispers
all telling
it's telling
take the world in our hands
only then we shall run
IF YOU PULL A LONG BREXITING FACE : XLIV – 44
IF you pull a long-twisted Brexiting face
Pulled three more years by Santa Theresa May
« Eyes » to the Right and « Nose » to the Left gaze
Is the fate of phase after Letwin amendment delay
If you pull a long-pained Brexit-fixit-now face
Deal or No-Deal come yet what the Devil may
Scoff at Benn Act to be torn apart in court case
Set then precedence in Case Law if PM won’t obey
If you still keep pulling that long Back-Stop face
Stick foot in the slamming EURO door to stay
Le Vieux Continent put-off by antique grimace
Would Mary Queen of Scots excise Henry VIII’s UK
If you then pull the long borderless Irish face
Migrant mice will grow fat on illicit trade mellée
Till the microbiote in the innerns all borders efface
And the Brexit Isles will split asunder in dismay
Then if you pull the long put-together fallen face
Towed across the Atlantic moored as the 51st to allay
The fears of Norman Conquests taking over the States
Guess who foists upon the World the Union Jack – Hurray !
© T. Wignesan – Paris, October 19, 2019