Tell Me, O Innate Noesis

What dread will surprise me,
O you dark den?
To stroke lines and curves
with empty pen;
To bestow ranting words,
want to be free;
To take stiff like a grey wool
into the place of fury.

What pigment will stain me
O apple of one’s eye?
To paint picture of beauty,
to color with dye;
To draw a shape of madness
and texture of kind;
To indulge the will of hands
and pacify my mind.

What mist will annoy me,
O innate noesis?
How that hokey kind of life
spread its genesis;
To breathe a worker of steel
and a giver of bliss;
To exclaim eureka!!!
with thrills and worries.

What noise will deafen me,
Sound of silence?
To hum the tune of love
and the seethe of hate;
To soften the buzz of world,
playing their game;
As sweet wind blows by,
drifting away their name.

What mud will mess me up,
O you dirt of art?
To mold the shape of soul,
ready to stand;
To raise the image of brave,
man to admire;
And to bring the dead hero
back again to life…

© S. R. Camus, 2015. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided the full and clear credit is given to Samuel R. Camus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

The Papyrus

In what reason why I’ve been slaved;
By the sequential pages;
Of those who have lived in the ignorance’s cave;
Was unfounded.
That compiled papyrus living on my shelf;
Mysterious thing.
Something I inherited from the very beginning.
The content has no ending.

It reads how grass mushroomed from nothing-
And how it’ll end.
On its existence have been uncannily withered;
And so the rain sent.
Preaching how to avoid the predestined wildfire-
Spreading forever.
Is to absorb the blood flowing from that wounded flesh,
And the tears of thunder.

Imposing rules ludicrous for the flock of witty;
Knowledge for faithful.
Though its words bear lies and corruptions,
Guns and gravestones.
Rooted under the black world of holy greed;
Monk of gruesome.
That has become the breath of the maker of kingdoms;
Life of religion.

The pages transmuted into a vague shape of mist-
Gone upward.
Projecting different faces of horrible creatures-
In people’s mind.
Ghost image of reality transcribe by a nomad-
Onto the scroll of illusion.
The smoke of its incense appeals to wondering cretin;
Delusion in motion.

Since my consciousness under the shadow of clouds-
Has been illuminated.
A light shines from the sparks of two rivaling questions-
Opens my head.
And taking away from that of sons of conventional;
Outrageous and fatal.
Waging war to kill tribal and racial dissonance…
That belief is detrimental..

© S. R. Camus, 2015. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided the full and clear credit is given to Samuel R. Camus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

A Poem For Ellen

Moment turns forever.
My surrounding is nowhere.
If you’re not here to care for;
Why should I live and remember.

For your love is my home
Where I rest and not alone.
My burden left there;
Wherein our dreams have grown.

We bravely fight together
Against hindrances and battles.
Distances and loneliness,
Mistakes and imperfections.

Here we are holding on;
Keeping us tight and connection.
The chain that binding us;
Pulls me to come home…

© S. R. Camus, 2015. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided the full and clear credit is given to Samuel R. Camus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

What Night Sky Brought me?

When the moon glows above me
In the starry midnight sky
The light hits and reflects in my eyes
Then something projected so far

That darkness is just a hue
A shade beneath the pallet
Where different colors mingled
Offering a beautiful array

And I realized it’s not unusual
The things in this universe are natural
Can be understand by human’s mind
No magic, no supernatural.

For the knowledge is waiting
Can be traced among stars
Connecting all the twinkling dots
Or read on those genuine pads

In the ignorance of higher species
There, miracle bears exponentially
Human inventing mundane world
Distinguishing between earthly from heavenly

While not knowing the lurking crisis
That we have the concept of deity
We were threaten of something hellish
But still, we are the most dangerous species.

Though night’s covered by darkness
There are sparkling suns scattered
Grouping into many milky ways
That’s the best source for the great knowledge.

Then I found behind my telescope
That there is light, there is hope
Human will be out of darkness
If knowledge will be our stronghold

© S. R. Camus, 2014. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided the full and clear credit is given to Samuel R. Camus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.