Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber,
Past the wan-mooned abysses of night,
I have lived o'er my lives without number,
I have sounded all things with my sight;
And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright.

I have whirled with the earth at the dawning,
When the sky was a vaporous flame;
I have seen the dark universe yawning
Where the black planets roll without aim,
Where they roll in their horror unheeded, without knowledge or lustre or name.

I had drifted o'er seas without ending,
Under sinister grey-clouded skies,
That the many-forked lightning is rending,
That resound with hysterical cries;
With the moans of invisible daemons, that out of the green waters rise.

I have plunged like a deer through the arches
Of the hoary primoridal grove,
Where the oaks feel the presence that marches,
And stalks on where no spirit dares rove,
And I flee from a thing that surrounds me, and leers through dead branches above.

I have stumbled by cave-ridden mountains
That rise barren and bleak from the plain,
I have drunk of the fog-foetid fountains
That ooze down to the marsh and the main;
And in hot cursed tarns I have seen things, I care not to gaze on again.

I have scanned the vast ivy-clad palace,
I have trod its untenanted hall,
Where the moon rising up from the valleys
Shows the tapestried things on the wall;
Strange figures discordantly woven, that I cannot endure to recall.

I have peered from the casements in wonder
At the mouldering meadows around,
At the many-roofed village laid under
The curse of a grave-girdled ground;
And from rows of white urn-carven marble, I listen intently for sound.

I have haunted the tombs of the ages,
I have flown on the pinions of fear,
Where the smoke-belching Erebus rages;
Where the jokulls loom snow-clad and drear:
And in realms where the sun of the desert consumes what it never can cheer.

I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
I was old in those epochs uncounted
When I, and I only, was vile;
And Man, yet untainted and happy, dwelt in bliss on the far Arctic isle.

Oh, great was the sin of my spirit,
And great is the reach of its doom;
Not the pity of Heaven can cheer it,
Nor can respite be found in the tomb:
Down the infinite aeons come beating the wings of unmerciful gloom.

Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber,
Past the wan-mooned abysses of night,
I have lived o'er my lives without number,
I have sounded all things with my sight;
And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright.

you would want to peer myopically into the id-entity of any poet?.
to stroll down his or her mnemonics lane shaded by
white towers full of his or her worthless and shallow memories?.
How can you expect to see with truthfulness when even the poets
eyes are,like yours, are blinded by their version of "truth" and tapestried by the colours of wealth with its intellectual and aesthetic attendant triviality?.
How can you exect to hear with truthfulness when even the poets ears are stuffed up with their version of "truth"and the oligarchy owned recorded sounds of counting houses and insincere celebrities babbling ?.
How can you expect to speak truthfully when not even one poet alive cannot distinguish between the duality of yes and no and the non-duality of neither?.
Whattya want?.
Religious Enlightenment?.
A Cathedral of Corruption.
Gnosis?.
Union with dead failed prophets.
Buddhahood?.
I will be your Bhudda tonite.
Christhood?.
Great View of Yerushalayim shel Zahav.
Union with Allah?.
Teach children to blow themselves to smithereens.
All these have  been banned under Health and Safety rules.
All decisively proved by history to lead to War.
And ****** Chauvinism.
And Alcohol/Tobacco/****** Drug Addictions.
And Medicines whose side effects ****.
And Alcohol and Tobacco fuelled Violence and Psychosis.
And Racism.
And Poverty for the masses.
And Adulthood.
And TV Dinners.
And Strictly come  dancing.
among others.
so tell me once more why you cant be a normal human being.

As Dawn approaches
with certainty and confidence,
the worries that
inhabited my mind
through the night
disappear with the
lingering smoke
left circling above
an ashen wick.
A yellow beam
dares to peek
through the
Royal tapestried sky,
sending a joyous jolt
into the fibers of
my soul.
I am awake, I am alive.
The darkness is gone
and a glimpse of hope
seeps inside,
lathered in faith
and the promise
of renewal.
I am a
Survivor of the Night.

There’s a hermit in me
and a flying god too.
And a dancer, who dances on the bones
of his lovers…
gently dancing life into them.

There’s a liar in me
and a repentant thief too.
Who tried to stuff precious moments
into his pockets…

There’s a handsome man in me,
bold, strong, and true.
There’s a woman in me too…
delicately twisting in her sleep.
And somewhere, there’s still a small boy
who can’t find the right size shoes.

There are rules in me that have no purpose…
small print in search of a home.
And there’s a warrior in me
who plays the harp before battle,
then rushes late into the fray.

There are tapestried walls in me
and marble halls,
formal gardens,
and servant’s chambers.
And there’s a simple cottage
I can’t quite find.

There’s a psychic in me
who reads the future
but is sometimes unable
to turn the page.
And there’s a mysterious poet in me
who finds words only at night.

And there’s a seeker of truth
who gets
lost
in
the
snow.

Come one,

come all

and

join me

for a night of

unadulterated madness.
--------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------------
“I see a dreadful fright in your future.”

–Madame Tarot
-----------------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------
Poor, dizzy fools.

Watch how they

go round and round

until their eyes pop

from their sockets,

until they *****

pink streaks of cotton candy

onto the sweet

horses with golden hooves

and blazing eyes.

–Cursed Carousel
--------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------------
My lovely Lady Tightrope

I do believe that skirt is

far too short and

that leotard far too snug.



When you said you wished

to put on a show for us,

I did not realize this is

what you had implied.

–Getting Freaky
----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------
They say these grounds are haunted

by little girls in feathered bonnets

and little boys in blue trousers.


And, if you listen carefully,

mingled in with the pervasive

notes of carnival music

are the morbid wails of these children–

children whose balloons have burst,

and whose ice cream cones have been dropped.
--------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------------
“But Mr. Clown, mama says I’m not supposed to take candy from strangers.”
-----------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------------
How ironic that the ringmaster

is missing his own ring finger.

–She purred like a kitty but knew how to pounce
----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------
“Why, what terribly big teeth you have.”

“The better to eat you with, my dear.”
----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------
I present to you

The Great Dr. Whim.



Watch how he saws his

assistant in half.



Relish in the piercing

serenade of her screams,

and how they ricochet off the

tapestried walls.



Grin wildly as her blood–

thick with candy floss

and other disgustingly sweet

delicacies–

drips down into the

cracks of the floorboards,

slowly inching its way

towards the audience.

–Magician’s Corner
----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------
See there?


Hidden among the

silhouette of the trees

is a man with

blistered lips and

charred teeth.


If you look carefully,

from a distance,

you will notice

a gray fog curling above the

pines–

it is the smoke billowing from his

nostrils,

threatening to wrap

its angry hands

around any guest

who dare venture too far

from the carnival grounds.

–Fire Eater
-----------------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------
More often than not

his daggers do not hit the target,

but instead find themselves

embedded in

the backs of our

lovely attendees.

–Knife Thrower
---------------------------------------------------------­------------------------------------
And to end the evening,

we have something spectacular

in store for you–

our human cannonball.


He is to fly,

but to never come down,

cut from his tether

to this earth

like a balloon that has been cut

from its string.


And at the most climactic moment

of his soaring escapade,

his flesh is to ignite,

leaving for his viewers

something resembling a firework show,

as a mesh of burning cartilage and

scorched bone set the night

sky ablaze with horror.
---------------------------------------------------------­------------------------------------
Oh?


You say you are afraid?


But I am simply fulfilling

the promise I made to you

upon your initial arrival–

it was madness I promised,

and it is madness you have received.

Sometimes I want to ran away
to a place where the only name I know
is mine.

This two-syllable name
that rings nothing
but emptiness.

For I am like a glass--
I only let people see through me
because I am terrified
of them getting deeper to my soul.

A soul tapestried
with confusion and migraine--
for I am only an ache in the head
when you try to understand me.

Rain-slicked
Asphalt repulses
    Black tread rubber
        Pushing me off-course
             No longer heading home
                   Instead bearing to confront
                          Mother Nature’s fenced border
                                 Chain-linked crooked limbs weaving
                                        Disaster and death into my tapestried
                                             Life and her children taunting chanting
                                                 Red Rover Red Rover let the human come
                                                                ­                    Over yet I fail to break
                                                                                 their linked arms
                                                                ­           Instead my glass shield is
                                                                      sharply pierced  
                                                       ­         One arm through reaching for
                                                            my throat
                                                      Grasping Suffocating Closing Ending
                                                Before fright wide eyes
                           Witnessing
              Crash

We draw water from the same well
We celebrate and despair together
Our fates are tapestried
In our shared community