The Hidden Light

Words be not enough,
Thoughts be broken.
Sighs are but bluffs,
And stares a mere token.
To speak to you is base,
For you I cannot face.
To think of you is false,
For I am but callous;
And you are far above
Whatever lies in me,
Hidden, mysterious love,
Endless as the sea.
And if I stare at you,
How can I remain?
For I haven't a clue
As to the refrain
That is sung to your name!
I cannot at all claim
To search your face with mine...
For you pierce me through thine.
O world reveal to me the King.
O words, be open to me and sing
Of the glorious reign of God,
For I, a poet, do merely bawd
At what I cannot know or understand...
And what is by me poorly planned.
O eyes do succumb to darkness now...
That in the dark I may in faith bow.
May increase of darkness increase my faith,
Lest in the dark I become a mere wraith.
May the darkness of life inspire hope
That I am not bound by the rope
Of my consolations and satisfactions;
Which when taken away are malefaction's
Waiting to be unleashed by tempers wrath,
Uncultivated virtue the aftermath.
So be to me my dear Jesus...
Everything, even my breath...
Not the breath that's smelly and strained,
But the breath of life, I do breathe pained
Now without you in my soul!
Enter in, and in you may I be whole.

                            The Hidden Light, (c) Luke Bennette, October 2012

In Jest I Say

A nave of spades, a jack of clubs,
A prince of hearts, a diamond ruff
That overcomes all other studs;
His hair is shimmering black, rough
Are his hands in an attack! Quick
As lightning, and flashy too; such
Is his nature. But like a wick
That's burned down to long, his cold touch
May come on stronger than you'd think
Possible, for such a fine and
Jovial spirit, doth oft wink
To see if you can see his hand!
Slight of hand, trickster by his trade...
And quite clever; his tongue his blade.

On stage we know him as the Puck...
Yet this page is more; he's in luck
To be our dear friend, a fine man.
He always has a perfect tan.
While his bombastic humor may
Affront some fool whom he puts down,
We see him as wise, and today
We come, near and far, to the town
In order to wish him well! Jokes
Are made, and many do tell him
How very much they miss him; blokes
Do shake his hand, and on a whim
He doth look through the crowd gathered;
His smile says it all; we mattered.

So sing your songs, and play your tricks,
Pray to God, withstand them fool hicks
That would treat you like piles of dung...
Give them a run, and their pockets
Do treat with, until they are wrung
From all value; and when all bets
Are won in your favor thank God!
His name ever praise, ever laud.
Don't be a stranger you knave, don't
Forget your friends old Jack, and won't
You be sorry you sad old heart
If you don't act your shining part.
You are a light for others to
See, a light for God; now be true
To your calling, your part. Happy
Birthday to you; now go and free
Those that do need a smile, do hope
To be released from the shackles
That bind them, those foul modern ropes
That are wrapped around, manacles,
Their sad sorry minds. Melancholy
Grips a nation; go forth, set free
All these fools from their misery.

In Jest I say, (c) Luke Bennette, September 2012

Through the Cloud of Glory

I walk down the road, and on either side
Their I find that the toad has so allied
Himself with the merchants that line the streets
That poor peasants flock to their vending seats...

And you too should come, he says with a smile...
I am struck dumb, and shutter quite a while
As I ignore his wide, toad-like, face of doom,
That gapes open wide only for more room
That he may swallow me whole, without a trace
Dispose of me, as a shoal of fish; in that place
I found fear following behind me like a train...
Echoing it's croaking, monotonous, endless, refrain...

My glance is caught further down the road again...
Not merchants this time, but sure footed men
That do holler with voices of varying pitch!
They hoist the sails for a circus tent, which
Fascinates me so that I stop to look...
I read the colors as though a book...

A voice tells me to hurry along,
Lest I become one with the noise-some throng...
I recover my senses with a titter,
A flair of anger, a heavy hitter
At the home-plate...
I am in such a state...

Hurrying along I regain my composure...
The sounds begin to align to the moisture
In the air; which begins to strike the ground
With a composition of music never found
In any other place all throughout the earth...
For I walk through the land of my home, my birth...

And for a moment I am struck so that I am still...
I have escaped the noise of color,
And of merchants have had my fill...
But here I stay for the sound of my brother...
Echoing through eternities open portals,
Through memories found in we mortals...
And I gaze upon the ground in this forest den,
I remember him there, stuck in that wide fen
Across the way where we did play
In the sun, in the rain; we did every day
Become better friends, he and I...
Until the day he drowned, did die.

Then I am a quiver with fear...
Suddenly I feel him draw near;
An icy cold hand, but warm to the touch.
Such illusions of mind are over much
For the senses to take, they cannot
Stomach the reality of what is bought
By believing in such fantasies...
So they take what they see,
And twist and turn it to what they like;
Lest realities hand lash out and strike
Their face with the palm of its hand!
So I found myself, in that dreaded land...

Turn away! Don't look back!
The voice inside said to me...
Come hither, my sister!
Set me free! Said he...
But I knew now, too late,
What I was seeing...
And before my fate
Overcame my being
I wrenched myself away,
From that hand of ice...
From my home, my play...
From memories of nice
Happy thoughts wishful thinking...
I ran from there! What was I thinking?

Barren now are the roads.
Not a person walks them.
Not even those foul toads
That once tricked me
Into fettered slavery...
No, not a single color,
Not a single image...
No memories of brother...
Only a mere savage
Minstrel before my eyes;
Minstrels...them I do despise...

And as I walk along he plays a ditty,
Calling the throng, with a song quite witty.
Yet I could not stand his music at all!
I hated it, and in the dark I did call
To him, to him I did beg be silent now!
But he merely winked, and did bow
As if to accept an applause, an encore!
If I could get my paws on him, how sore
He would be! How very much he'd regret
If ever I caught him; for a touch of set
Anger was writhing through my veins...
I considered going back, old refrains
Were pecking away at my desires...
Little lamps in my mind, rather than fires...
In a maze my mind now wandered
To every place I have since sauntered...
And I wondered where I was going...
Wondered at the point of it all...
Wondered at the wind blowing...
I wondered at the quiet call...

Then suddenly I recalled myself
To my senses and shut my ears...
I could no longer hear the wealth
Of this minstrels ditty, no fears
Were set upon my heart any more,
And the anger took flight, the well
Of frustration became dry, the door
Was shut to mine enemy; I sell
All my treasuries of past loves
To the voice I hear. Gentle doves
Do gracefully lift me off my feet...
I fly over the minstrel; his defeat.

Now these doves do take me high,
Into the darkness, the clouds, where nigh
Invisibility is at work, is at hand!
The ground sinks beneath me, the land
Indiscernible to mine eye;
Confusion now reins, try
As I might to turn my intellect around
To where I had been. I am found
In a swirling mass of terror and pain,
I cannot stop the shivering refrain
That besets my heart, my soul!
I bunker down inside, control
My raging fear; like a woodsman
Desperately fighting the fire
I strike back with my desire
To be safe and sound from this dreaded wind!
The sound of which howls louder than sin...

A song begins to dawn in my heart...
Not from my own memory, in part
Perhaps have I given myself
To this great song of wealth...
Yet it seems that it comes from without
To be within my heart and soul, felt
I that it became one with me tonight...
And the raging winds no longer fright
But begin to sound out the melody...
As if I had received from the voice a key
To ceifer the raging winds of pain
As having spoken out in a refrain
Of the glory of God...
A never-ending laud...

Now emboldened by this understanding,
And surrendering myself, now commanding
That all of my energies be engaged
Into this cloud of glory, this saged
Love that beckons to me,
This loving voice, this sea
That pours into my being...
Can it be true? What I am seeing?
I see light unknown...
I see, as though shown...
I see, yet do I see?
Can this truly be?

I stretch out my hand...
My fears one last stand
Take hold of me before I reach
What I was reaching for, teach
Me to fear what is before me...
Teach this sight is all illusory...
Turn my sight back to the cloud...
Falling down now...how very proud
I am that I realized my mistake...
My mistake...did I indeed make
With my foolish behaviors of mind
A mistake? I hope others may find
Me sound of reason when I return...
I hope I realize myself, lest I burn
With ensnarement from their reproach...
Already I can see on the ground a coach
That will take me back to my house and home...
The minstrel waves at me! He holds a comb
To for my frazzled hair, now such a maze
Of many tangles, a fiery blaze
Of lightening and maddened haze...
O, what strangeness! What a craze!
And to think I had almost fallen for it...
This light, this illusion, this religious fit!
Now the coach is off, and I am in...
I have regained myself, I do win
The game that has been set against me...
I have prevailed, can once again see.
We travel past my home and I sneer
At how once I did travel in fear
Across it's plains, this relic place...
I no longer see my brothers face...
We travel through the circus tent!
How beautiful it's colors! Unbent
Are it's poles reaching to the sky!
I feel strange again; I don't know why...

The minstrel plays a tune that I like...
A hand slaps me! My face does strike!
We enter the merchant lane once more...
The minstrel opens for me the door...
The smiling toad throws open wide
His arms, his smile; I am beside
Myself with fear to see his face!
My brother stands in disgrace
Next to his side, ashamed of me...
I do not think...I exit...then I flee!
I run from the road, I run from it all!
I run through the day, the night, I call
Out to the voice that once reigned in me...
I cry out at night in an endless sea...
I cower in fright at every noise that's made!
I cower in fright, for the game I have played
Has thrown me from heaven so dear...
Into a world of doubt, suspicion and fear.

The hunt is one, they come after me!
They say, come again! Pay the fee
For using the coach which returned you here!
You shall be enslaved, forever my dear!
Do not run into the night, this wilderness;
Come! With us you may find great bliss!
Your unfettered desires may become you yet...
I grantee you'll like it, I will even bet
That once you return with us you will say
I am better off in this place, better off this way!
Come, give yourself up to your lust...
We are your friends! We you can trust!
Accept your pride my dear little girl...
Accept us, we are your dear pearl...

Twisted, deformed, and mangled as I am...
I hear in their words a twist, a mere sham...
I hide in the first tree that I find...
I shall stay here till they go. I have a mind
To remain here forevermore...
I fear I have lost myself, a whore
In a wilderness of stupidity...
My price for doubt, no longer free.
My hair is all tangled, my dress ripped and torn...
I am besmirched, ugly, and forlorn...
My captives surround me on every side...
They smell me out, they sniff for my pride...
Wild wolves are they that now prowl the plain...
No longer glamorous; for to my shame
I had seen them in a different light...
Now I see them as they are at night.
Of monstrous shape, and color too...
I cringe at their eyes, my body drew
Back at the mere thought of their hands...
Groping in the darkness of these dreary lands...

In the shadow of this hollow, this gaping maw...
Where I hide for my sorrow, fearing what I saw...
I pour out my heart to the winds, I do cry...
I pour out my soul, my sins, lest I die...
I know not who will answer, only that I fear
To die without confessing, to be a mere
Of darkness in the presence of the light...
To succumb to this evil, this darkness, this night.
I beg forgiveness, from whom I know not!
I cannot recall who it was that had bought
My soul at a precious price...
I scratch at my hair now covered with lice...
I, mere wretch that I am...
Now contemplate, do dam
Myself in my thoughts, in this place...
I think of nothingness, to be without trace
Of form, without grace of life...
To be free from the pain, the strife
Of fear, the shallowness of air
That with the beasts I do share...

Thus to I raise up with croaking voice,
A voice devoid of water from my choice...
I ask one last time for help from above!
One last time do I profess in love
My hope to be delivered, to be rescued;
And I pick up the knife that is imbued
With bitterness and hateful crimes...
I hear somewhere, far off, the gentle chimes
Of a clock; in a city by the shore...
I had only thought it to be lore
That spoke of such a sound...
Suddenly I realize that I am found...
And the winds do answer me as I stare
Into vacancy, they do answer my prayer.
A spark within is set again to burn...
I suddenly remember, do yearn
To see again the sight of the cloud...
To open myself to his praises, and laud
Out in the dark of the night, without thinking,
The love in my heart! The darkness sinking
Into the dawning day begins to tremble...
The beasts on the field do now resemble
The figures they once were by day...
They retreat to the road! The dawning fray
Begins to gnaw away at their heels...
Bells do sound somewhere, their peels
Draw me from my hollow of grief.
I run over the meadows in relief...
I follow the sounds that I hear in the distance
I cast aside all fears, all resistance!

A tingle in my spine...
A voice calling mine
Own soul...
I am full,
Am radiant as the day!
I climb the hill before me...
And marvel at the quay
That hides near the sea...
Now beautiful is it...
I take a moment, I sit
And gaze at this city of God...
Where men and women do laud
In praise and thanksgiving the King
Of glory, their voices do ring
Out in psalms of joy!
In communion they employ
Each other; and the cloud draws nigh...
I recognize it, this cloud, and I sight
With deep relief...
Letting go of grief...
All my fears allayed...
My suffering stayed...
I recognize now how to love...
In communion does the gentle dove
Come more readily to dwell with man...
I was foolish alone, following mine own plan
With brazen arrogance!
A deadly song, a dance
That led me where none could confirm
The love in my heart; a miserable worm
Was I all alone, so abused;
So very much was I used
Up in my struggle that I doubted it all...
And from the cloud did I then fall...

As I walk down to they who do fill the square
I breathe in the freshness of ocean air...
I turn and speak a word to you...
Remain in love, be ever true
To the one who has set you free
From darkness; who doth eternally
Give you the grace to draw nearer still...
Who will in time give you your fill
Of life, shall fill you with bliss!
If you struggle so as not to miss
The boat that crosses the ocean blue...
You'll receive more than you ever knew.

                   Through the Cloud of Glory, (c) Luke Bennette, September 2012

Psalmedy

Concern abounds as I look across the this
Street of misery and pain; what a bliss
To hear the singing behind, the refrain,
The Chorus against this murderous reign,
So very unlike what falls from the sky...
Even my beliefs do utter a sigh.

Anger begins to gnaw at my side when
Seeing these phonies walk into their den;
Begins the heart to beat twice as fast, much
Too fast to consider the faintest touch
Of the mind with all seriousness. Oh
That I could only, with certainty, know...

It hurts to look at them standing there, sun
Streaking through the cold; the sound does now thrum
In the air like the many snow flakes that
Falter from the skies above. Like a bat
Comes swooping in from the side the mallet,
Destroying their home. It is pains valet...

From the sky I look down to see in flames
Those that run from the storm of bullets, names
I've never heard before in my life come
To mind when I look upon such strife. And
Is this all from a misunderstood word?
Words spread like fire when they have been misheard...

I take it all to the place where you dwell;
Rather than spewing forth such words of hell
That do inspire riots, revolts, and death.
I take it to you O Lord, in a breath
I speak of our need; and what this is I
Cannot say...not for certain. I do die
To consider the injustice abroad...
Do suffer to consider the pain. Bawd
As I do in times of distress I state
My self they servant as I contemplate
The meaning of these things, I ponder your
Word in my heart, lest I should so abhor
What I say to others. Yet you do sit
Upon your throne and listen to my rant...
Which I cannot understand! My dear aunt
Would chide me for behaving as such, my
Parents deride me for trying to vie
With the way things are, my brother would laugh
At my attempt to fix the world with math!
My sisters joke about how much in need
I am of down time, to relax and feed
On the niceties of the earth. But still,
Though they all consider me foolish, fill
Their heads with words as I have done before,
My mother sits in silent tears, and more;
For my father sits in silent wrath, his
Anger kindled against those who do wrong...
Whether intentionally, with song
Of malice and hate, or with ignorance...
Which is for some merely a second rate
Crime...Such are the things I consider in
Time...

I cannot add to the words expressed
By the silence of a mother, confessed
I there and then to my father near
That I loved them both, ever so dear...
That I desired to give them my all...
That I desired to answer their call...
But what to do? What to say? to mankind?
Where are those that love them to? can I find
Further witnesses with which to join
My frame of mind? is there some fair coin
By which we may purchase ease and comfort
For all of those that suffer injustice?
Or are we in our minds thinking of bliss
That comes in the next world beyond this one?
The one that comes when the day is done?

I hear in my heart, a whisper of God...
I smell in the air his presence; I laud
His name in silent admiration, give
Him praise with my thoughts. I know I can live
In this world of suffering pain...
And I'll say it again, the refrain!

I'll give myself to God,
I'll give myself to the poor.
I'll give myself, will nod
In obedience at the door...
I'll speak in silence to the press...
I'll give myself in words, confess
My deeds in silent refrains,
And the world may see the pains
Of the poor as my very own...
No matter what others say...
I'll work until the end of day.
I'll speak of Christ to those who seek
To find the everlasting peak.

What more can I say? What more can I do?
With many words I am still so very untrue.
I can speak and yell until I am blue...
For words are louder than actions...
Shouting out all manner of malefaction's.
Yet the simple act may in silence give
Another the chance that they may live...

             Psalmedy, (c) Luke Bennette, September 2012

Here's Hoping...

I wake each morning with a sigh,
A stretch that reaches a mile high.
I look out the window at the flames
Rolling past me, the countless names
That streak the papers come to mind,
I pray to God that he to them be kind.

I walk down the stairs, to eat of course.
I don't have a car, or even a horse;
Which means that i'm lugging it to work
Before I get fired by my boss, that irk
In my side, that pain in my wrist...
You all get the sense, the gist.

I hear the siren go off again, and again.
Fall down in my seat, underneath
The table; insufficient as this pen
Is I still feel safer, can still bequeath
To my heart some satisfaction
While outside rages the malefaction.

I walk out the door with a prayer or two.
I think of true love, and what man will do
To have just the sight of his lovers glance;
One more night, just one more dance...
My prayer collides with the sound of flames
That consumes the ever higher list of names...

I reach my destination before death can find
My name in the street; God today is kind...
Perhaps says a voice its simply my luck
That I should have been saved from the muck
And filth that swarm the street outside...
Perhaps, respond I, yet I hurry inside...

The shouts and the screams of hurry it up
Do cause me distress; like a mindless pup
That's woken up at the middle of night
I run hither and thither, all a fright.
A single mistake in here and your done...
Overhead we hear an airplane's run...

I nod to my friend standing in the back;
He works with the printer. I with the stack
Of paper feed the hungry machines,
That print with black ink madmen dreams.
For who could believe a word of ink
When one see's that the words do stink...

I offer thanks for getting through the morning;
But ask for protection, lest in scorning
The enemy come to take me away
Into the night, and the endless day.
I start to eat lunch, and again I hear
The sound of bullets, at which I do sneer.

Writhing anger rises and falls with a crash
Similar to the sound of a mortar's splash
Upon the ground, not thirty feet from our place!
The cry of another soul, another nameless face...
I keep working, though my friends do cower...
And my boss, frightened, is no longer a tower.

By the end of the day, all is done, I'm alive.
I continue to pray; on the way home I strive
To keep my eyes averted from the pain,
I hear in the street an endless refrain
For help, for money, for swatches of food!
But I would not help them, even if I could.

I turn a corner, and another one comes!
They rush to get near me, the drums
Of the innocent destroyed by other men;
They seek a place to stay, a home, a den.
For themselves, their children, their wives!
Yet I continue onward, clutching my knives.

Is it fear that prevents me from loving?
Is it pain that causes me to look away?
Why do I keep onward, ever striving
To make it to the end of another day?
Am I lucky where they are not?
Or do I have for a moment, what I have got...

I reach my home, I pray again, thankful
That I have managed to reach the end;
How very sad is my heart, how pitiful
Is the frame of this man. I do intend
To do better tomorrow, if I can.
That's always the hope, the plan.

I sit down to eat, the sound of knocking...
These beggars do come to me, stalking
Me in the streets and at home.
They have no where to stay, so they roam
Without rest, offend all that they see...
For they are the proof of lacking generosity...

The gnawing, the gnashing, these screeching souls
Begin to tear away at my patience, my control!
I stand in anger, I refrain from speech...
Lest I should destroy them like a leech!
Then walking to the door, my heart stops dead...
I hear what they hear, and it fills me with dread.

Laughter in the streets, men with guns...
No more words do come; sudden drums
Do pound upon my chest and I sweat...
How many of them will survive? Forget
Says the voice inside of me, forget them!
Tis but a dream, a cycle of REM!

The sound of gunfire pierces the night...
I see it all as in a vision pervades one's sight...
I sit back down, another falls to the ground...
No more to irritate me; no not a sound
Shall bother me again this night. Not one.
They had nowhere to hide...nowhere to run.

I walk up the stairs at night with a prayer...
Desperate excuses made up of despair
From own guilt wrung out of my heart...
Have I been wise in action? Or failed my part?
The sound of flames outside again...
I am safe inside of my home, this fen...

I go to sleep, I am not afraid of these sounds
That now terrorize the city, these evil lauds
That clout the sky and beat the ground...
I am scared of what inside of me is found.
I am frightened that what I've done
Is not enough to escape deaths conundrum.

I wake in the morning, I offer a prayer...
I open my eyes, and then I do stare
At the ceiling with regret and pain...
At the thought that I have become another name
That none will remember, no none at all...
The sound of the plane is my death call...

I do not run, I do not flee...
I am indifferent. I am free?
I am despairing...I give up!
I am a mongrel, a mere pup!
I am a man without a bone
To pick, a heart of stone...

Learn from me, lest you die of it...
Lest you die where you do now sit...
Learn from me, lest the pain inside
Should grow from wounded pride.
Learn from me, lost love's not enough
To cause you to shun others, to bluff
Your way through life as a loner...
To give up on men, to be a runner...

Now the flames envelope me with a bang!
I feel for a moment the whip of the tang
In the everlasting flames of doom...
I know no more...there is no room
For love, no room for hate...
I am indifferent...that is my fate...

Awake with the fear of God in your heart!
Awake! For today you must begin, start
To act without fear of what is outside!
Let go of vanities, of foolish pride!
Awake! Awake! Fire and sword do come!
Whether you like it or not, the beating drum
Will become your ears or your heart...
Awake...do now begin to do your part...

And love eternal shall be yours to keep.
What you sow will eventually be yours to reap...
Believe, with all sincerity
That you can love, that you can be free...

Here's Hoping...(c) Luke Bennette, September 2012

The Lovers Grace

He woke me with a smile,
Just a smile, so I say.
Come with me for a while,
Into the brightening day!
Too sleepy to comprehend
The meaning of His phrase
You in sleep did wend
About a hazy maze
That went to and fro
Between crocodiles with wings
And deserts on the go
With desert snakes, and things.

He reached out and touched
The tip of your shoulder;
With his hand on the clutch
Of a manual shift car
You saw him in your dreams.
So very very far was he
From you in sleepiness
That you said yes, I'll go;
But paid little attention
To what you said. It seems
That we wish for bed
To be a perpetual devotion;
Instead we have to wake...

He shakes you slightly,
Not too much, every lightly,
As a sunshine ray would
Sneak into the room;
And although you should
Recognize a ray of sun
Shine when it comes, swoon
With joy when it doth run
The length of the earth
To see you in the birth
Of a new dawning day,
Instead you do bay
Out in your sleep.
And he, suffering joy, doth weep.

O beauteous woman, my love,
He calls you by your form;
Such a tender call, as a dove
So early in the morning
Does call out, not in scorning!
Yet deeper into the dream
You fall, and in it you scream!
You call out for him who is near,
But is far away from you; for fear
Keeps hold of you in dreams
That never cease to hold on,
Do speak only of what seams
To say, that He sent you Anon!

Now concerned He speaks,
He calls out your name;
And suddenly you stop; weeks
May have gone by in a stream
Of steady thoughts that gleam
No real meaning, no refrain
That is discernible. Such pain
Is but the memory of a dream,
And opening your eyes at once
From having heard the ream
Of his voice in the echoing
Room you do now feel dense
To have forgotten to sing
Before going to sleep
Of love and beauty;
But rather did weep
To think he would not be
There to hold you in his arms.
Oft this is what causes alarms
To go off inside our heart,
Where they will never cease
Until we acknowledge on our part
That our fear is unfounded,
Our concerns are deceased,
So that from our nightmares
We may then be released...

His smile opens wide,
He has nothing to hide;
You are awake! Says he!
With apparent glee.

No more be the shadows in your heart,
Shaken, and battered, and bruised,
But not destroyed; for the better part
Has survived the fray of the night,
And now His eyes do pierce like a dart
Your soul. Like a falcon He swoops
In for a gentle kiss,
Of such sweet remiss,
Of heavenly bliss,
So that you can hardly miss,
The intentions, make no mind hoops
For you to jump through concerning
How very much for you his heart is burning.

So suddenly, just as the dawn becomes
A reality upon which we do fawn
When we take note of it having come
Without warning, without a drum,
We do take delight in each other's love;
So may we each take, in the heavenly dove,
Delight for each other,
May Juliet's Glove
Be removed from our eyes,
May the sun shine on we,
Illuminating what flies over bounding seas.

Our sight now roams from coast to coast,
Seeing, not seeking, for we ourselves toast
In each other's presence.
This sight, this touch; the fence
Does flee from in a moment's haste.
Nightmares are by daylights ray's replaced.

The Lover's Grace, (c) Luke Bennette, September 2012

From Within We Go Out

I wake in the morning, I smile every day!
I walk down the staircase into a small bay
Of water that streams down alongside
My person, into a den of lions, a pride,
Of Persons; all their pomp display
Like peacocks that light up the fray
That can be seen going on outside my doors...
And there we turn not...for they are all bores
That do not come from within my house,
Are tiresome, pities as small as any mouse
That comes scurrying in for bread and butter...
An image comes to mind...Forgive me mother.

I sigh in the afternoon from all this show,
I make or I break every man in his woe
Of passion for me, in his desire for my form;
Is that not the idea? Is that not the norm?
I walk through a sea of chandeliers;
And they reflect every one of my fears.
I put on a face as white as the grave...
To these images, self deception, I am a slave.

I frown in the evening, and they think me faint;
They cannot discern within me, nor can they paint
From the signs what I endure every single day...
Cannot understand the question of whether I may
Or may not exist without their company...
Of whether or not of them I may be free...
They laugh at my jokes, they applaud my speech;
Like an actor I turn, the pedestal doth screech
But they take no notice of my pronounced fall,
For it is within! And they are all at the ball!

They go out, one by one; their chains clink...
Inside my soul I scream out loud! I think
How unbearable is this misery, this sham,
This putrefied behavior, this blemished lamb
That baa's in my ear with disdainful glee...
I am blind, I cannot with my own soul see
What I am any more, nor what I should be...
I long to be gone from this place, to be free!

They have gone, I utter a cry that is shrill!
I have had my fun in the morning, my fill
Of elegance and desire;
I have made a great fire
Burn in the hearts of men,
Inflamed many women
Against my person!
Reel the hearse in!
For I shall no more exist in my shame!
I wish for peace, to know my name!

A knock at the door...as there is every night.
Dare I open it? Dare I see this Holy Sprite
That so often comes to cheer my soul?
Who so oft begs me to render up control
Of my fears? These up and coming men,
Like cats, do brush up against me, ren
Der me a broken glass upon the floor
So that my own person craws; I abhor
Them more than anything else in the world!
Yet can the fear of them overcome the sword
Of truth outside this door of mine?
Can I open my heart to Him? Pine
My grief with sincerity and hope?
Overcome this chain? This fashioned rope
That binds me to a life of glittering
Shams that do now in my soul sing
Foul dirges of hams that did defeat
One after the other for lands
That were in their brothers hands?

I faint at heart, my body spent...
My soul follows, and it is rent.
The knock again, once more, again...
I am trapped inside my palace fen.

A voice inside? Or vain delusion...
Perhaps my pride...or such illusion
That would make one hope for love
That comes from without, or up above...
Can it be that the one outside is within?
Already leading me to open the doors of sin?
Desiring to enter formally from without
Rather than force from within like a lout
The doors wide open so that He may free
What I am from what I desire to be?

I walk...towards the door...
Trembling...as never before.
I open it wide...and there I see...
O, I cannot tell you what I see...
Only that it has truly set me free!

From Within we Go Out, (c) Luke Bennette, September 2012