Machinations of a dream

The cogs grind
to a halt
As the dust of a million
battles flood the cracks
And teeth that
have consumed the souls
of a million revolutions

The sweat and tear drops that fall
have been weighed
and found wanting
yet they fall
yet they fall
as if their vain splattering on
the bone-dry machines may perchance
oil them into life

Lament of the Soulless

The greatest of friendships exists In the baring of selves The mutual exposing - voluntary! of each’s naked being

It is where friends have seen the worst of the other plumbed the depths of the soul known all the retardedness the other can stoop to the indulgences weaknesses dreams fears and despite the innumerable host of imperfections that mar that naked visage extend the fiery embrace of love to the other from one core to the other

When becoming sworn brethren was a thing what could be more real than the blood oath The mingling of the very liquid life that courses through the veins of the twain

Can deep friendship be, where two leave standing the walls, masks and fancy Venetian blinds that hold the world at bay where the projected image of the Perfect-er Self displayed to strangers is retained for a ‘close friend’ to see?

but the knitting together of souls is formed of heartstrings the strands, the fibres of the innermost selves where the fabric of outer veils are rent asunder

And between naked self and naked self the burning bonds formed surpass words spoken, interests shared, ugliness witnessed where dark secrets can no longer hold hostage the intertwining of beings Where covalency - the strongest of chemical bonds is but a facade, a mere interaction of outermost shells Where the deepest friendships are a fusion-but-not-fusion the enjoining of two cores one but not one two but not two A new ‘self’ born of two old.

Thus bemoans one who, desperate to prove himself worthy fearful of being judged keeps shields up, moat filled and walls manned letting none past his gates and wonders why none dare knock

self awareness

Self contemplation: gazing inward
into my shattered soul, my fractured heart
My self I see, but only
as through a broken glass, darkly
Betwixt rivulets of glittering cracks
and in scattered splinters on the cold ground

to hold love

somewhere in the dead of night
on a tired open palm
a tiny tongue aflame dances
in the flickering gaze of eyes
'til the fist clenches
and in a silent teardrop
it quenches

The Unchosen Ones

I keep a little graveyard of dreams
Snug under a hillock deep inside my heart
Every so often it grows
Howbeit I am glad because
For every cross I add to it
Three other dreams thrive above
Roots thrust deep
Drinking from the rich ground
Fertilised by the Unchosen Ones.

Nyctophilia

What is sleep?

Sleep is but rest

A time to regenerate

To heal

To shrug off all the troubles

The hustle and bustle

That vex and worry in the day

What is sleep?

The surrender of the consciousness

The release of the iron bands 

That enslave the mind and heart

To duty

And honour

And love

And image

What if I told you that

sleep could be done without sleep

that

restoration was possible

without the shallow

superficial meaningless and vain

form of sleep that most

people succumb to

what if

the mind was truly the master

and the body the slave

and regeneration was all about the mind

not about the body

and if being awake at night was all the healing

that I need

then my healing would be in the form of

the embrace of darkness

free of all the problems that the day brings

and I can be free to agonise over things

that I cannot during the day

because I must look confident

and brave

and manly

and cool

and all the things that society and family and friends demand and expect of a typical someone my age

things that would make me fail all of the above requirements

what if I told you the night sets me free

to lose myself in my personal pursuits

to lose myself in my insignificance

to lose myself in my non-existence

the me that cannot exist in front of everyone else

what if darkness allowed me to wander my own paths

beyond boundaries no one has known

beyond horizons others have denied to me

to learn

to work
to mourn

to build

to be

what if the even's darkness was nothing more 

than a blotting paper

for my own darkness inside

darkness that grows within during the day when the windows 

of my soul are shut

and the curtains drawn

so no one can see inside

what if that was my rest

what if that was my healing

what if I love the darkness

what if I am night incarnate

No road

Sitting in the darkness

Waiting for the moon

Because the sun refuses

to grant this boon

Mind like a dusty road

Questions racing full throttle

Dark skies groaning with watery load

Dripping from dashed bottle

The compass spins wildly

Wind roaring in the yards

The seaspray hisses sourly

and bursts in briny shards

Drifting without rudder

Sails tattered, ropes frayed

Prays the sailor

All hope allayed.

Friendship Fornever

You don't lose friends, they say

Only find who your real friends are

Perhaps it's when everyone goes away

Yourself you may discover

For friends too are human

and their needs must be met

from consolation to encouragement

"It's gonna be alright," "You're not fat."

Sometimes you're so caught up with others' burdens

You forget your inner twin

while you liberate them from torments

Your own house falls into ruin

masks we wear even with soulmates

walls of steel around our hearts

frustrations, duels of the fates

secrets and desires and whiplash smarts

the storms of the soul that havoc wreak

no one can comprehend, not the closest friend

not the briny blasts upon the cheek

nor the scythes that rip and rend

Collection of short poems #2

when daybreak shatters over skies of grey
and death lurks amidst troubled slumbers
the wild silence howls along the thorny way
casting crimson blood upon frozen embers

--------------------------

the ocean's on fire
melting the sky to stone
and we against the wire
fighting our war alone

--------------------------

Yes I'm running on empty
But when my tank goes dry
Who cares
I'll run on air instead

I am a leaf on the wind
Watch me soar

This exhaustion will pass
And only I shall remain

A greater me

--------------------------

loneliness is a journey in strength
failure a journey in perseverance
the dark night is a journey in faith
people are a journey in patience

if I go down, I'm going down fists swinging wildly, blood racing, and kicking arse

--------------------------

Troubles, troubles, come my way
You'll pass, but I'm here to stay

--------------------------

The sable sky hearkens
to the cock's crow and pales
the horizon's water glistens
and hushes the night gales

--------------------------

Dreams fading in the distance
Through clouded eyes of tears
Dusty mirages and windwashed visions
and whispers in my ears
The path falters
Staggers, falls
As death dashes its waters
Against the dead-end wall.

--------------------------

treasure heart

somewhere inside of me
there is a chest of fears
somewhere inside of me
there is a bottle of tears

here is a wellspring of hope
there a stream of joy
mountains of care
and depths of despair

I am a cluttered treasure map
X marks my heart
maybe someone someday
will find the way
without falling to each and every trap
scattered unmarked on this bloodstained chart

Collection of short poems

wake up to soft strains of dancing water
to the rain-glazed window my heart leaps
opening to a dying storm's last throes
on my face dawn's musky breeze

--------------------------

raindrops dancing in the cool night air
glittering in streetlights' gentle glare
eagerly they knock at my windowpane
"come out and play with us in the rain"

--------------------------

summer rain, so short, so fast
like a passing train in a windy breeze
furious and loud, too brief to last
no more strength than a maiden's sneeze 

--------------------------

phantom limbs refuse to go away
keenly felt, though unseen
like painful memories of yesterday
through heartstrings merrily ripping

--------------------------

Let the heavens' weight on my shoulders lie
Standing tall, my sapphire load a-bearing high
That man may yet give hope to those who would try
"Go for your dreams, reach for the sky!"

--------------------------

the rainbow's brilliant colours mourn
and sorrowful rain-tears stream
for why from each other
they ask, are we asunder torn
from the sunbeam
we once were?

--------------------------

Autumn leaf on the forest floor
Bent, broken, betrodden
The cold wind holds ajar the door
Through which dancing snowflakes beckon

Unyielding

Springing as a salmon up the narrows

of the unforgiving hourglass' neck

Straining against's time's cruel harrows

and surrender's tempting beck

How swiftly does the darkness fall

Shadows fill the night-lit hall

Spirits crushed, passions flee

The lonely candle's flame is choked

By garrottes bloodsoaked - 

hearest thou their scornful glee?

The battle is far from over

Hold fast! 'midst fears adamant 

Lift high the standard, soldier

Look to your arms, ye valiant!

Keep the blazing torches burning

The flame of will must not die

The wheels of time are turning

Our time of glory is but nigh

Troubles and trials, come at me!

Who shall triumph? we have yet to see

For an inch of ground I will not yield

Passion my sword and grit my shield

My heart is steeled and burning bright

Once-smouldering embers have been revived

I fear not the chilling night

For my doughty companions stand at my side

Let it not be said that in terror we fell

with our backs to a pursuing foe

Let it be proclaimed by our funeral knell

That we live on still, in heart, mind, and soul

We only live - and die - but once

Seize the present, give wiles no chance

Endure, my beloved, and gallantly your race run

For golden dreams and desires await to be won

~ Josiah ~

Inner demons

the unforgiving sands of time
pour en masse
a raging flood through the narrow neck
of the hourglass

the past stifles
constricting like a noose
the old skin of a moulting cicada
struggling its old self to lose

with eager notes of merriment
the reaper's scythe hums and sings
severing past from present
sundering heartstrings

and torn a gossamer veil falls
coloured dull with dark memories
but few bright spots of happier times
windborne it drifts into unending eddies

within the gaping maw
of my personal cupboard
to clothe a massive host
of skeletons unnumbered

one day no doubt the trumpet call
shall lash out terrible and fierce
and out shall march my darkest secrets
armed with my deepest fears

Death Race

Phantom lilies in a murky pond
Memories distant of bygone
Days of a darker year
Far from near

The worsted clouds burst
From behind the sun
Forbidding and defiant
Smotheringly silent

The wild wind shrieks
Raging seeks
Lifelines to foul
Souls to devour

Traveller on a lonely road
Weak and barely clothed
Lies gasping by the wayside
With nowhere to hide

If life is a race to be run
If there's a prize to be won
For the horrors we must face
I call it 'Death Race'.

Imprisoned

Secrets guarded

A battle of wills

Kept by thirty two white knights

On two red hills

Secrets hidden

Frozen on a summer’s day

Gone with the wind

Exiled far away

Secrets six feet under

Like a dog’s buried bone

Place forgotten

A dream unknown

Secrets like a treasure

Precious unsaid

Astonishing revealed

Then for the world displayed

Secrets painful

Blood-oath bound

Pangs only inward

With thorns crowned

Secrets surrendered

Like a glass of teardrops dashed on a noontime sidewalk

Vanished, trodden into dusty trails

Sorrow’s empty void

Secrets sealed

With a thousand kisses

Bubbling as a mountain spring

Sallyport of a thousand blisses

Secrets seared on the heart

With memory’s branding iron

Under agonising lock and key

Damned to oblivion

Wanderlust

The skies are my mantle
My bed the earth's embrace
Music I hear from the thunder
Dewdrops uplift my face

Not for me the life of kings
Their burdens, cares and pains
Let them who riches crave
Be bound by their golden chains

Content a wanderer to be
A carefree soul
Whithersoever I wish
Thither I go

A Mother's Day Tribute

Twenty-two years ago I woke up to life

Bawling, struggling and tiny

Twenty-two years ago I woke up to love

Helpless, frail and puny

Twenty-two years later I'm still alive

Knowing my mother loves me

Twenty-two years later I can still love

Because my mother loved me

Twenty-two years of her life

She's broken her back for our family

Twenty-two years of her love

She's given to us daily

She's still doing it now

Her determination awes me

Perhaps I can never grasp whence or how

Her strength replenishes daily

Her hands are a blur, always in motion

She fights a battle for her children

Supporting her husband in his every endeavour

Unrivalled in energy and fervour

My everything I owe to my mum

I cannot say what I'd have become

But twenty-two years now and growing

has taught me the sum

of everything

is that Man without his Mother is nothing.

(Note: This was written for Mother's Day 2011)

~ Josiah ~

For the Joy of the LORD is my Strength

Life is like water

Our mind is the vessel

That gives life its shape

Life is like scenery

Our mind is the lenses

That gives life its colour

If my heart is joyful

Life will be joyful

If I view life with energetic eyes

Every day is a blessing

Filled with opportunities

For me to do a thousand meaningful things

Every frustration is a chance to show patience and kindness

Every challenge is a means to grow

Heartbreaks strengthen us

Temptations humble us

The greatest sea is but a puddle to him with the eyes of the eagle

And the mightiest mountain a molehill to him whose Strength

Is founded upon his Joy in the Lord.

And whatsoever ye do, do heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men. Col 3:23

~ Josiah Lau ~ written around 30th Jan 2011

For Year 2010

The day was late, the sun'd moved on;
The seconds ticked by, the seconds gone.
His heart beat fast, his pulse was quick;
He was a firework ready on a stick;
The clock chimed twelve, he leapt up high;
He saw the city as he went by;
Then disappeared he into a burst of colour
To the oohs and aahs of every watcher
And this wrote he in the dark night sky:
"A BRAND NEW YEAR FOR YOU AND I!"

The last dewdrop

Morning breaks, the dewdrops glisten
The night has run its course
Birdsong abounds, just listen!
The sun's alarm clock crows itself hoarse

The little flowers that in the night
Have hung closed, silent and fearful
Raise their head in the dawn light
Their open petals bright and beautiful

The dregs of cold air scatter
Under the assault of the sunbeams
Animals scurry hither and thither
Freed from their dark dreams

The morning air grows warmer
The last dewdrop hangs on its leaftip
It tenses itself, it grows smaller
And then in one upwards leap
It