‘Tis not the impending decay—
of my walling flesh,
crumbling slowly away—
to simple ash.
That’s left me shuddered—
Such awful fright!
Nor has the lonely pyre—
of wood and oil,
set aflame,
with tremendous fire
Left me sleepless,
oh sleepless night.
‘Tis not even the fear of failure,
that’s rendered me, this night;
so frail, so weak.
For taming treasure’s easy
when they’re not treasures I seek
Many a paths call to me.
Grand thoroughfares,
that entice, away and away at me,
boasting—
their grand treasures.
But shouldn’t my heading,
be that steep country road?
Trodden by the few—
that died,
while still living.
So this brevity,
may never become—
object-
of my grief.
Robbed, of all gaiety.
So please,
oh sleepless night.
Lead me not into mourning.
Let me call my hour;
an instance of some worth,
a moment of some weight.
When I wake up,
tomorrow morning
Thus,
bed-side I’ve been left.
Fetal. Rolling amid doubts,
and writhing amid scorn.
Unsure and unfree.
Wake up.
Oh sleeping sky.
I’m scared.
If even to fly.
Jan 4
Jan 4, 2026 at 8:14 AM UTC
Laugh, Pagliaccio.
For sorrow now knocks,
and racks upon you
its thousand woes
Laugh, Pagliaccio.
As the mourning dew,
adorns your withered rose
Laugh, Pagliaccio.
For the thorny nest,
now covets.
That blackened heart
Laugh, Pagliaccio.
As from this bed,
you’ll never come to wrest;
Ever-nested in ****** vines.
You’ll writhe, each ****** day.
So forgo any and all hopes of rest
And—
Laugh, Pagliaccio.
Whilst the furrows deepen,
and the time for tears, comes down weepin’,
to dole over joys no more leapin’,
joys that strain, under sadness, now seepin’,
As unsown fruits ripen;
and become the unworthy’s reapin’
Truly,
heartbreak’s come
and taken all—
worth keepin’
Laugh, Pagliaccio.
Not for the people’s pay,
no—
for the fool that you are,
swayed as you were,
like child’s play.
Laugh, Pagliaccio.
The people restless;
clamour, bicker and fight.
In wait for their beloved Pagliaccio;
the clown with wit and humour rife.
So adorn your mug with that ghastly white,
and let them gaze.
Upon the clown of wit and humour rife;
not a man suffering under muted plight,
nor one vengeful;
of horrors, in spite.
For you, by fate have been chosen,
to carry,
this chip and blight.
Now, heavy heart, make light
and brave these jagged waters,
that ill-humour has tasked you smite
Go now!
Caper in. To the jester’s tent.
But beware;
be not seen under the searing light.
Sep 16, 2025
Sep 16, 2025 at 6:00 PM UTC
Do not love,
Half lover
Do not preach,
Orator
Preaching half truths
Do not dream,
Get by-er
Dreaming half dreams
Do not work,
Ease-seeker
Working half heartedly
And when around you;
Half dreamers, and half preachers, and half workers
Do not succumb
Do not conform
Do not become
Do not seek,
O contented one
Seeking to be different
Do not aspire,
O common one
Aspiring to be remembered
Do not pretend,
O masked one
Pretending to be what you’re not
And when around you;
Contented ones, and ordinary ones, and masked ones
Do not conflate
Do not adopt
Do not plate
Do not achieve,
Self-obsessor
Achieving,
Then justifying
Do not think,
Deluder
Thinking,
Then fooling
Do not write,
Flaunter
Writing,
Then showing
And when around you;
Self-obsessors and deluders and flaunters
Do not get wooed nor woo
Do not rationalize
Do not do
Do not confide,
Manipulator
Confiding half-thoughts
Do not judge,
O fragile one
Judging, to be righteous
Do not promise,
Oathbreaker
Promising,
Then go forgetting
Do not undermine
When within-
You praise
Do not boast honesty
When you hide so
Nor of the latter
For that is not any better
And when in you;
A confider and manipulator
A judging one,
and a fragile one
A promiser and oathbreaker
An undermining one,
and a praising one
A truthful one, and a hider
You find,
Then-
Do not confide,
Only to then manipulate
Do not judge,
Only to then be fragile
Do not promise,
Only to then,
Oath-break
Do not undermine,
Only to then,
Yourself praise
Do not hide,
Only to then, of it, be honest
Choose
Half-lover
Sep 16, 2025
Sep 16, 2025 at 5:51 PM UTC