Stormy weather verses a wall and a lighthouse

A wave raced like a thousand damned horsemen,
Competing to be the first to be dashed against the cold warn sea wall,
As if summoned by a supernatural superior call.


The lighthouse which overhung this deathly scene,
Sat still and serene just as it had since nineteen fourteen,
It had lasted the bombings from Hitler and Hun,
But in the year of our lord nineteen ninety one,
This heroic saviour of ships was finally undone.


The waves came, the waves broke,
But the sea wall held strong like a fine noble Oak,
Took three score violent undulations and ten,
To undermine the stone at the base of the wall,
Then one by one they began to fall,
To become lost in the sea and manipulated by squall.


Soon the lighthouse had no defender,
And if it had the breath and voice of a sane man,
It would scream for mercy and for surrender.
But the sea had no sympathy and soon began,
The demise of this solitary spot,
By pounding its door with the strength of an artillery shot.


The noise alone could have broken the door,
The staircase the bed and torn up the floor.


The tower toppled with the subtle grace of a bomb,
Destroyed instantly on impact,
With the victor, the sea,
Splintering out of existence,
Time shows that without persistence
Remembrance of courage is lost and not retrieved
And in a generation forgotten
The site of our hero now overgrown and rotten



http://officeofstrategicinfluence.com/calm/wentloog2.jpg

hopefuly this dream will not turn sour

My eyes are as moist as dust
And this dead euphoric energy
Will make my temples burst
I got a feeling in my gut like getting older
Growing colder and becoming fatter
Going nowhere
Like a toy with only one functioning leg
I limp around the same track
Stalked by a hungry malevolent cleg

My ambitions float carelessly into dreams
Those are forgotten like a fascist regime
Only to be picked up by descendants of mine
Prepared for the virtue but not for the time

A dream turned sour
A boy turned old
A cult moral turned law
A baby turned w----

Quiet girl in lost in the middle of the class

She sat on an island in the middle of the class,

Shivering tanned skin delightfully exposed like brown polished brass.

She sat there mellow and unique in her anonymity.

Seemingly possessing limitless equanimity.

She was not known to me or me to her.

But our eyes connected for a second or two,

And I instantaneously was disorientated by a brown blur,

As her eyes saluted me in an almost adieu,

Then were snapped from my oversolicitous view.

my mind slips, and my body falls

My mind slips monotonously back,

To the hours that felt like minuets,

Spent off the beaten lonely track,

Where my single but whole heart beat till it burst.

The blood may have stained you.

But it stained me worst.

And the seconds that we thriftlessly threw away,

Admiring skin like porcelain clay.

I’d like to claw back to relive and recreate some day,

In a different place very far away.

This time,

With somebody who’s heart is less likely to decay,

I have too many regrets to have any at all,

But you’ll stay high on my list till judgement day.

For you made my heart into a medicine ball,

To heavy to carry on my sleeve or behind my ribs.

Though one day I hope to enthral,

Enchant and bewilder you all,

By wielding my love like a blade of a sword,

Hording a pile of victims which I shall adore.