close of days

look upon the lonely dead
in their world of stone
each one of them is so well read
but all of them alone

our path with cuts and weary worn
meanders toward the sun
through battled lives gracefully torn
pity spilled becomes undone

as if we marched toward a prize
each step upon the late
still anticipating with surprise
our destination’s fate

and as we gape upon the void
having reached the close of days
we cannot grasp the now destroyed
through complacency malaise

© HeyHey 2020

Fornever

Ever, as you know, is
At all times
Forever, being the infinite
Temporal destination
Yet here we are in
Entropic
Demise
And through an opaque
Window of lies
And despite the doleful
Cries
We find ourselves in
Fornever

© HeyHey 2020

True Destiny

To look inside the lamp for destiny or truth

As might a mystic or sleuth

Can only bring mischance

Not a worthwhile song and dance

For, ever can be more or less

Perhaps even your redress

So enjoy your simulation, true

And be glad you never knew

HeyHey ©2014

The Word I Speak

Here is the briefest of an instance

With no gauge, appreciable distance

From lost of then to what seems now

Could not be true or real somehow

 

Here is a gift of soon vacuity

A kind of perpetual annuity

Maybe preparation for the abyss

One never ending tender kiss

 

Here is a method to prevail

To grasp the moment, not exhale

Then look upon the light of stars

Discovering there of all memoirs

 

Here is a simple, honest word

That’s kind of subtly absurd

As it fell so gently from above

The word I speak to you is love

 

©HeyHey 2020

To all my blood and beyond

Calling

Calling those who cannot be

To you who want but are like me

Who have a heart yet have this wall

Seeing worlds but evading all

 

Calling those who have a smile

Would like to meet but run a mile

In a room will find the crook

Avoiding the most kindly look

 

Calling those who want to find

A means, a cure, to stop this bind

Then stop at each and every stage

Are too afraid to turn the page

 

Calling those who’ve reached the end

Be aware I comprehend

You’re not alone and not so strange

In post-corporal we will change

 

Calling those who care no more

We are together on this shore

Where we can speak and touch and gaze

No longer with anaesthetic haze

 

©HeyHey 2020

The Beauty Of

Indeterminate as fate is,

through illogical consequences

of dire trickery,

still there is hope?

Yet, that too

subscribes to the illusion,

hopefully not delusion (yes, one can hope; or can one?), of

homunculian despondence,

in a shell of supernature,

outside

of the unfathomable tenet

that is this,

inside the impenetrable sphere

that measured the spheres.

Then, depriving certainty

of truth, can

opposition be dissolved,

as aloof as time was

afore seconds,

and exquisiteness be the soul in

perpetuity?

©HeyHey 2014

teeth

keep seeing shadows reaching for the sky

not knowing, but they’re still trying, why

when the sun has gone

surely there’s almost non

the blackest of birds, they hide

even witches won’t confide

all that can be true

is withdrew

but in silence, atmos is here

a perception of evacuating fear

a sense of the now

could this be how

in time afore time

when teeth were no crime

silhouettes were to bless

hid the blood … and the mess

might come they, again

but please don’t tell when

©HeyHey 2014

all

my bed set sail
at last
and the day diminished
into the firmament
with you
all

©HeyHey 2014

always

always, as a ‘passing’ troubles
(and with it trouble doubles)
mortality
absorbs this meagre vitality
thinks
“all the hardcopy stinks
not enough in light
the sound is always shite
and the grey
is prone to decay”
so, what to make of a span
a drop in the ocean, man
well, that bead was a jewel disguised
academe, but benevolence more so prized
inspiration like a sun at night
here was a fashioner of souls in plight
a gardener of minds
within sojourns of so many kinds
with compromise on the edge of your cliff
as enigmatic as a hieroglyph
this loss then, should be corporal mere
for legacies remain, and clear

©HeyHey 2014

for Charles, a friend, who died

less than

as forever looms in this realm of
midst the pleasure with each breath
or surf, or song
tis pity still cannot
and never had the

looking at a compass, time
so the words they
more than these cherished pictures
could ever stir the milieu
the yous of one

and beyond is
suspended where regrets are friends
smiles, effort
absorbing beyond belief
but giving less than

©HeyHey 2014