A Tome of Poems: Mammon


For those that don’t have it, it is a big deal

For those that do, it’s a piece of paper

Its viewed as the primary source for joy and thrills

And a significant lack of it brews disaster.

The current god of the modern age

Its roots anchored within the hearts of mortal men

Its minted leaves places man in a mental bondage

Yet we chase it to no end.

You cannot serve God and mammon

View it as a means and not a destination

Death is an inevitability we share in common

Pursue not after only ostentation.


A Tome of Poems: Morpheus


Night falls comes and umbra is king

The canines howl and cicadas sing

We journey into the land of the surreal

Leaving our corporeal forms, quite and still.

Alas we arrive at the realm of the endless

Its landscape ever shifting and restless

One is free to craft his wish and story

For here you are the architect of all and sundry.

But hail the sultan of the soporific and lord of lethargy

His somnolent sands filled with latent energy

Hail Morpheus the god of sleep and dreams

Hail the Sandman from whom all our slumber streams.

A Tome of Poems: Dogma


For some its a theological schism

For others, a coping mechanism

There are those that stand by its conviction

There are those who maintain there is a contradiction.

A belief propagated by a virgin birth

A doctrine professing about life after death

A tool utilized in ensuring morality

A weapon that can be a source of calamity.

A principle for instilling orderly manners

Or a propaganda for installing mental fetters

The apprehensive remain blanketed in doubt

The accepting retain their faith, evermore taut.

A Tome of Poems: Cronos


Its a perpetual river flowing without ebb

Round and round it goes like the cycle of Kreb

Its contents washed away never to be undone

Carrying with it ripples of things to come.

Its the endless rotations of a celestial wheel

Events come and go which no one can conceal

Secrets buried and destinies foretold

No one can escape the grasp of its hold.

Its a titan controlling the epoch of the cosmos

Convicted and committed, no one can stop Cronos

The past a memory, situations we can’t suture

The present a gift, utilize and plan for the future.

A Tome of Poems: Icarus


Man is borne, bipedal and grounded

The fowls of the air, winged and airborne

Man tills the ground to be fed

The birds soar, feasting under the sun.

Man evolved, civilizations formed

He learnt to build, he learnt to destroy

Man strives as much to be a god

He forgets his beginnings as a boy.

Remember Icarus, dauntless but unwise

Went too close, never to fly again

Man should fill shoes his own size

Over-ambition is a mile away from been insane

A Tome of Poems: Kismet


Freedom, a feeling a caged bird craves

To abscond its plight, and engage in flight

Liberation, a desire wanted by a felon that prays

To see the light, and live without fright. 
We all feel imprisoned on way or another 

It could be in our mind, or in the things we find

We all search for escape from matters that bother

To kick back and unwind, and leave worries behind. 
For are we free to our will or destined by kismet

To love or hate, to proceed or wait 

Whatever the truth we must be ready and set

Whether it be by fate, or we get to dictate.

A Tome of Poems: Once Upon A Thyme


Once upon a time as I pondered on life’s teaching

I stumbled upon the vast naivete I had

Once upon a thyme as I wandered around the kitchen

I happen upon a variety of spice that made me glad.

There is a time for every season under the sun

A time to be born, a time to learn and a time to die

There is a thyme for every seasoning inside the pan

Some thyme to boil, some thyme to cook and some thyme to fry.

A stitch in time saves nine

So make haste before the sun is gone

A swiff of thyme creates brine

Hope you’ve enjoyed the poetic jargon