Paper Aeroplane

I see a boy,
Out on the plane,
With a toy,
A paper aeroplane.
Who knows
Where it’ll fly to,
Its paper nose
And its paper crew.
They’ve closed the door,
Their backs to each other.
They’re at war,
No care for one another.
Jokers in the moonlight,
Batman meets his doom.
Why do they fight
Over the mushroom?
Is this the end to all we see?
Finishing all this endless misery?
Is this how God wanted it to be,
When he formed the earth
And surrounded it with sea?
Lions in the mirror of parliament,
People drinking whiskey
And bathing in milk.
Lions in the mirror of parliament.
This is how it will end.

~ Simon Jepps, 1994 (Aged 15)

Through The Looking Glass

I saw you today through the looking glass,
Your world seemed more beautiful than mine.
The flowers behind me were made of brass,
But the tulips you scented were divine.

I know I’m stupid but that’s because I’m sad,
And the world doesn’t listen to my screams.
I get frustrated because others are more glad,
In this disputed world of broken dreams.

My soul has been poisoned and played on by fools,
I don’t like this trauma, this insanity of mine;
A broken equilibrium because I want to break the rules,
And show the world it’s possible
To command the sands of time.

I saw you today through the looking glass,
Your beauty, God’s reflection in my eyes;
And how quietly a memory returned from the past,
Of the time we saw God make the skies.

~ Simon Jepps, 2002

The Work Of God

There was a silence. Nothing to be heard. There were only the hands of God which made the sound of life of which we know it. Why did God wish to take such a risk, of such danger and alarm, which may have caused him such harm? No one knows, no one cares. But the risk God took and had not shook his head at resisting the danger of the fate of his own and to leave the silence all alone. God tightened his fist and wished, for a sleeping thought of great bliss, to awake and then make a storm which would form a world of great love and happiness. Within that tightened grasp of nothing, that secured case of uncertainty, arose tremors. The fist began to tremble and inside began to assemble an almighty explosion of great tension and emotion. God wanted to set free the awakened dream but could not seem to unclench that tightened grasp, of which held the first world, or even the last. It was all building up inside and even as he tried, he could not hold it in, what was all part of him. Away came the once tightened fingers and as away came the thumb, with it had come, a light which was so bright that it filled God with fright. God could not see what he had created. And with this light came a sound of much might, which sang the song of creation. God closed his eyes as he could not stare at what in reality may be a nightmare. As the sound subsided and the light became dimmer, he heard sweet chirping, which made God smile. Then he felt slightly warmer and so began to wonder if it was safe to look or if the heat would burn his eyes. He slowly lifted the blankets which covered his sight to see alive what he once dreamt in the everlasting night. His dream had come true. Time passed and God observed the world of which grew fast. But God had no clue as to what would become of his dream come true. The creatures of which were very strange soon began to change into uncaring intellectuals who damaged their world by misusing their tools. They grew to hate each other. They took the life of one another so to settle a certain matter. God didn’t know what to do, the end to his world would be through war – and what more – he may never dream again. God watched the truth unfold as more bombs blew. The world was at war with itself. God’s world didn’t seem to be a world anymore. As they tore and tore and tore and tore – until there was no more. There was no smell, no sound, no scenery, no love. There was a silence.

~ Simon Jepps, 1990 (Aged 11)

Hara Kiri

The butcher’s blood is of a red sea’s winter, his heart replaced by a pepper. Oh, why should some sing the hymn of hate, while others are crossed in love?

The sword in hand art only of stale minds, its name forever bluntened by God’s tears. Oh, rootless, you may seem, but the stakes you gamble are the lives of the pure.

~ Simon Jepps

A long time ago, wars were cast only whence good people proclaim witness to evil deeds. Thence we would fight together and with righteous power.

Today, wars are cast whence dictators proclaim witness to futures yet unmade. Thence strike a land in secret and with unrighteous power.

Ahura Mazda, peace be with thee.