Orin MSH

The brimful Night - the jocund moon
The fecund ground thronged with poplars
Out of the nights that men have known—
Where have they seen skies full of stars?
...

The ceaseless Night - the restless sea
The hunting place of proud Poseidon,
The slight of Amaranthus was to be—
His death-knell from wild Hemlock poison
...

Yet forever is still too short,
A time for lamenting reckless dreams,
The noble ideals all poets do exhort,
The epitome and wisdom that one deems
...

In a tattered frame, her face does show
The lines of strife and secret sorrow
By the ancient, wormy sea,
Fair maiden's beauty spoken from long ago
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Can the grandeur of the world be traced and tracked
To He, the unsurpassed, The Creator, only
How gathered greatness in green gilded grove
What wildly ways the whole-whorled world worships
...

O! That this heart is soothed by the gleam of garlands bright
As hands toil in the glare of a stony sun;
And the mottled brush did reveal a most splendid sight-
The softly folded, luxuriant petals that have just begun
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The mountain boasts such giddy heights
The hill is scorned for lacking in might
The mountain man herds his wild goats
And breathing hard, we hear him spoke
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A villager lives his threadbare life
And thrusts his breast upon the wind
And crouch down close on the dirt path
The dusty sun looks matte and dim
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I often wonder what the trees
Who in their silence seemed
To always have the sound of these
Confounding clamor of troubled dreams?
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A whisper of words are frolicking in the wind
Neither here nor there, we feel it on our skin
The eyes dilate, palsied hands a-trembling
The frosted speech hid half of what we mean
...

Poetry, is foremost Duty before Art
Hard-nosed Pedantry before Artistry
The hidden glint of transient Beauty
The thankless task of turning to craft
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On the clouds are writ
Fair sonnet that soothes the souls
Embracing its wounds, humoring its wit
The ‘oft unvoiced poetry found in nature
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The sleepless sounds of winds, so sound asleep
In dreamless dark, the stupor, wounding our voice
The poet throws his lament upon the deep
Gushing through cracks and sounds the miscreants
...

When I was leech upon the dew, under the moon and mist
When time turns all to dust, red like the wounding sea
The stars were drifting through the clouds
Of hail and sleet and soot
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The Sermon of Water serves ablution
Around the leaping ocean of the face
Pushed around by sand and grit
Turned to Oblivion
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And wide I awake I feel the dismal Dark
What chimes, O what dim tolling have been spent
That witched the night! Unearthly realms transcend
Greater delusions, to walk Illusion's way
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As thunder peels the shattered sky
Shaking every leaves in this land of plenty
Petite figures, hug rows and rows of rubber trees
Intent on finishing their task, foregoing comfort and ease
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God hides His Mercy in the waves of water
Steered through the bleak;
That breaks the weather's Heart
Our ancient Navigator
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Who is she?
A dame, fraulein, matron,
Caretaker, chambermaid,
A sage, a scholar, a savant,
...

Can there be worse than endless-fountain'd grief,
More pain, still fraught with agues of suffering
O Savior mine, whose Divine ease, shall bring
O Blessing for the World, such sweet Relief
...