Eyes That Understand (S)painEyes That Understand (S)pain
Rubinstein plays the suicide note,
you take me by the noose.
Breaking down, dancing in favor of my ashen
vestigial,looks, in an
Segovia fumbles to get in tune.
You devastate my moribund, cloudy,
eyes, with yours so dark, lonesome,
You dance untamed, hair unbridled
Twirling, arms reaching out towards celestial shine.
Such an unbound ache flows, from mine eyes
so absent; dying tears yet
collect, profoundly by the full peak of your
mouth, causing the sting a trauma; you
Breath in, then resonate so completely
The cry of an Andalusia night.
We leave flamenco's origin for your heart
Between the subtitle hills,
white shuddering knolls;
"Vamos a explorar nuestro mundo..."
Seville, freed us both from eyes so absent,
They became ruined, like
The shell of that ancien
Cordis Somnium*Fall past the asphaltCordis Somnium*7 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Thro’ the honey bee scene
Dip thy feet within
Naides’ yielding stream.
Thine arms splayed toward Hyades
A grey morn consumes the sun
Rain brings silk to the heat fraught meadow;
For time to touch thy form, it must run.
And thine hair was a mess after the rain.
“Will you ask it of me soon?”
Before the world is found to be concrete and sprinkled streets
“Before my qualms on leaving find the noon?”
The sharp cry of the meandering city
Thrives on slapdash letters, in cheap, restless dives
Therein reside, the silent concerto of our drifting
Where individual voices drown, and no lover's awakening lies.
Oceanus“…great wink of eternity,Oceanus3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Of rimless floods, unfettered leewardings,
Samite sheeted and processioned where
Her undinal vast belly moonward bends,
Laughing the wrapt inflections of our love...”
---Hart Crane, Voyages---
I. AL MAR
Pale blue skiff opposite the gulf
A dotting of subsistence; the hollow
Peace speaks of modest calm and diffidence
A shack with its impoverished tapestries
Where time hangs death in salt warped pictures.
Solitude is neither society, nor friend nor lover;
To be blown out is to lose the name of action;
If company is welcome, one cannot say.
Forms awry with natural movement,
Make their tryst in frantic stride;
Great Mother Sea
A Vision of Aphrodite on the ShoreA Vision of Aphrodite on the ShoreA Vision of Aphrodite on the Shore11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Here, in this mind of petty indignation.
Here in this place of stale bread
and salty tears, is an image
of a maiden warm, and intense, blood stains
her lips; an opiate calm enters her air,
When Ceres' heat comes, it screams
out from her passing by, the beauty within
Exile, sounds within the pattering
of sandals atop dipping sand.
The green dress fell like a burden
she was happy to give over to Artemis.
When she removes the band from
her hair, the wind smells of juniper,
the water swirls with brunette.
I would go to her in amour, with blood
stained lips, and mingle flesh.
Later,the wicker basket would overflow with
wine from Florence, a silk blanket brought in kind,
touching worry, would caress her form, (that the
Sun did not dare abuse), bringing gentleness to a
bare lithe wild flower.
Instead, I enter the waves of indignation, a mind
beaten with shards of glass, a throat scarred from
sorrowful sour mash. The night swal
4:00 Insomnia4:00 Insomnia4:00 Insomnia1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Bedded by insomnia
Sight, barbed by black
It is the same dream,
The fantasia breaks in
My head, splinter
Of light bulb ashes
Only the cerebral
It is not a form.
A half pence
Tin, and broken
Oily and screeching
Yet no sound is made.
A waking vision
I cannot wield
That narcoleptic need
s o u
Old, About New:Before the tears upon the bed,Old, About New:4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Panting and the dust; was a radiance of your grace.
Then we saw something ruining from a part of you.
A brave word, a memory that criticizes
The wandering thoughts of the street
Chanting its sad curse, and the fire.
Fear resides in the wanting heat: from that broken sheet
You implicate the lunatic king
Eager, he basks in his most concealed esteem
your privation; how will they all cope?
Will it be as you?
With mastery of the tumult’s sprig?
With the performance of a smile
Where early flowers are reaching
In their sane, and silly song?
“Twisted in the mirror; ruin’d, but re-begot
Tracing my new survival, and from lucid bewilderment
Convey your horrid joke, beneath the irony of a beautiful purple sky
Where sumptuous youth find everything silent, I touch the hour,
From whence companions fled inward foundations.”
And what grand foundations are left
For the new Lost Generation?
What prose, but change must be
Nymph (AIGLE)Νύμφη (Αἴγλη)Nymph (AIGLE)8 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
“I hear you are sick
I miss your ravenous eyes
Why neglect your need?”
I wrote some poetry for you muse;
Famished, beautiful girl.
I repressed your private plight
For I had something in my eye.
“Aigle, your sweet dance
On the tarmac in Delphi
Was the heart of time.”
The leviathan of panem & circenses,
Licked your ears clean; Cassandra
Fibbing in her looking glass, wanted you looking lean;
And the craked ampulla jar, received you on your knees.
“Was I deluded?
Now my sight aches at your waist
Your thighs haunt my love.”
When we were younger, and mislaid
I never could take the words out of my chest
I never asked of you, the most important questio
Odyssea Nunquam Abstitit:Odyssea Nunquam Abstitit:Odyssea Nunquam Abstitit:1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
When the blue jacaranda mocked the sky
Sleep bound is she, the drowsy brilliance
below the whispering branch.
Her Cańo Cristales hair,
strewn amongst wild blue and green;
Though her eyes
tell of time waiting,
when the wind was lonesome and
slaughtering butterflies in its chill.
They turned, almost at once
Eyes gray, yet dancing with the frenzied
glory of cosmos.
Striking out at her wanderer, like a warm
crash of wave.
She understood, "Your laurel leaves speak of death
but I still need you."
And he wept, "Your garland
speaks of the flowers, streams
and the meadows which is our home."
"Here, is where I still love you
this place, where arms renounce arms
with care, warmth and adoration."
"My arms tangle in shadows, and
my mind only imagines; night falls
on my face within the whirlpool;
Your spark is the farthest from me; distraught
and left desolate, in Ithaca."
(She holds all his hopes)<
EROS Giver of PainEros δωρητή του πόνουEROS Giver of Pain5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
(Dán eile le haghaidh Aedh)
Like Rome, the grand piers fall away
And the screeching dawn gasps with rain
Beleaguered our eyes turn astray, and pry
Hopeful at the grove of our final play
Where Eros beckons and pain descends.
Like darkness, cold finds a bed
Gray clutches at your hems
And time demands that you sleep alone
No mercy fell from the maidens tongue
Where Eros beckons and pain descends.
Like posies, which hide our modest passing-by
And beauty made ephemeral by the grave
Tilling the connubial, that ordinary swoon
Every human love you seek, Pothos has her way
Where Eros beckons and pain descends.
Like on the river Styx, we swear on stale treaties
and break bread by the Carrion birds,
Who suffer the less while a morning lover signals
A youthful duress, beneath the chestnut tree
Where Eros beckons and pain descends.
For the poor man, who would lay his dreams
Beneath the feet of a
Eliot and the TitanSwallowed worldEliot and the Titan1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
By way of drumming streetlamps;
I Titan, who once traveled between the concretes and life
Now suffer this synthetic sun,
for such is mine empire:
Frayed ends of imagined cruelties
Where a hecatomb is my body
My body is now a place where commuters eat.
I am undying, forced to cling these images,
Of urbanite resentments.
Winter an emotionless change,
Brings to me obligatory languages
Sailing through alleys of simpering questions,
A coiling of conventions.
Elemental women talk their quartet
Breaking salutations daily over my pain
Plucking gently my chains they speak:
“Misery! to thy name, misery!
Tis’ epochal to suffer such sting
Aye are the hours and tidium it springs!
May garbage blow tempests
With papers baring tongues!
May it beckon and glide
Until thy mind dries like tubers.
O titan chained, titan of woe,
May Iove forever spurn you slow…”
Here are scenes at four-o’clock, dusty trams, vacant lots,
This is what happens when the street lamp
Tacking on WingsTacking on wingsTacking on Wings10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tacking on wings,
slowly into shoulder
blades made gaunt, it’s
your suffering jaunt beneath
flesh; your eyes dart away.
Along the lines of
whittled down youths,
along the lines of broken
tracks you down. You save
face like all the others.
Cicero said,“Cibi condimentum
esse famem, potionis sitim.”
Yet, you do not care,
for any philosophy
that has not come
from gaunt “goddesses”
butchering from atop treadmills.
Dublin once rang with
"yes", out from Molly
Bloom. That Moorish wall sinks;
within your smile where
rose peddle maidens forget
sentences. When I first spoke
with you the maidens
wept from those lips,
soft fears for big words.
Any example of free
thought, you held as horrid.
‘Trends’, you said 'are so
much easier'. I wish that you
might understand me, but
it is clear that sympathy
tightens you like modern
prose, peering over the jaded
Ribs are the forever
novel fashion t
Vindictive Thoughts.Vindictive Thoughts.Vindictive Thoughts.1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Evil, is knowing better
But purposely doing worse.
Toying with love by the tether
And laughing when it hurts.
Prevailing by any measure
With no intention to reimburse.
Flaunting stolen fabricated treasures
Gaining what you never truly deserved.
To live a life of complete leisure
And never keeping to your words.
Manipulating and applying pressure
Because the rich and poor can never be merged.
The idea of a just world is just a rehearsed lecture.
Those who seek to create this will be publically purged.
We all fall victim to man kind's thin, green texture.
This is the life we are unwitti
Bellum est BellumBellum est Bellum*Bellum est Bellum1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You who wish to conquer pain,
must learn to serve me well.** The amber
burns the path, brother springs
tears of gin. There is a yearning to
be singed (adored) by beloved's ember skin.
We became a stipulation, and then ancient Rome fell.
You my beloved; you who made love with hell.
The Bodies writhed, from the strike of mouth.
Then carrion birds ensued. Flesh raped the nerve,
of the mornings syrupy dew. We flew from
that hollow perch, the orgy was left shriveled
amongst the sweet earth. We became trembling
monsters, and smoldered back to bed. One with each
other; bereft of Joves head.
You who wish to conquer pain,
must learn to serve me well. I hold the
youth bereaved, and the graves begin to swell.
Never want to leave me, though you will never tell.
Of how you need their sinews to keep you feeling well.
Just admit that you need me more than the heaven
that you made. I am your desired object and
Sonnet:τα Mεσάνυχτα μαςSonnet:2 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Beauty, smiling weapon of her body;
Shadows fall from the language in pain
The firmament of the room feels wanting
Sweet earth trembles, no words can remain sane.
Quiet within night is the effulgence
Between the many folds of silent bed,
Passion and breath bring not but abeyance,
Flame leaving, gone through Janus she is led.
In palpable obscure one can never taste
Summer, when love’s grasping hand may tend;
He fixes a laurel about his waist
And from the bitterest ash he doth rend.
Of fault's innermost woe, so grieved his look
That her subtle radiance overtook.
serpentPretending to be a lover,serpent3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you come to me as a man
to the pomegranate tree,
blind sighted by your hunger
to taste of its
Now, a serpent transformed
with darting tongue
sniffing out the promise
of fallen fruit
split by crows taking flight
as you approach
low to the ground, unblinking
stare like tiger's eye
when I succumb the weight
of cool scales wrapping round
the membrane, smothering
rubies of luscious red with the
undulations of your legless crawl,
to the heady quench and thirst
between the spongy chambers
of bloodied pith.
O FevraleWitching hour, welcomed with a sigh,O Fevrale10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
bare-breasted and ink-stained in the night.
Half in love in this half-life half-light;
pisat O Fevrale navsnryd, dreaming
of the gods. Wanderer, today I died and
died again, and whispered prayers
to clasped hands… until the nestled
droplets fell away like sunrays at dusk;
and when moonrise came, I sang again.
Belief.Belief.Belief.6 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I’d rather believe in something,
Rather than to believe in nothing.
Because to believe in nothing implies there is no purpose.
It implies that there is nothing below or above the earth’s surface.
It suggests that there is no advanced assistance and that our existence
Can be revoked in an instant, despite our apparent spiritual commitments.
It would mean that mankind will not be punished for all their wrong doings.
And that living a good honest life will not grant you a shoe in
To something that is not indefinitely there
And that it was us who made this world unfair.
But if you believe there is something greater in place
And that this something does not have a form, figure or face.
From this something we gain a feeling that cannot be described
And although countless cynics have allied, defied and tried.
They have dedicated their entire lives to proving there is no evidence.
Because disproving that something is the only thing of any relevance.
What if confirming its p
The Gathering!Under cypress tree, when moon is highThe Gathering!1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Spirits gather, hear collective sigh
Cemetery arisen, short hours of bliss
Dearly departed create ghostly mist.
Nebulous night walkers mean no harm
Our presence detected, they'll raise alarm
Collective reminder of what use to be
Distant past calls, no future they see.
World changed face, so many times
Mounting fear from grave they climb
What is this world? impossibly new
Lost their place how strange the view.
Underworld is now their domain
Time has come and gone, no pain
Dreams don't invade, no tears to weep
Spirits consoled, eternal sleep.
Blue LotusBlue Lotus1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Coming up from Aswan with his catch,
he tacks the course of his dhow
along the Nile of her dark eyes,
her long hair,
the narcotic of blue water lilies,
her lotus pose facing both
the rising, and the setting sun,
the young fisherman begs to know
as he sings upward with his might
and his desire, into the sail
that catches the crosswind--
What is your name, scented one,
in the smoke that rises
from the shores of the cataracts,
where I bring to you my bounty!
He peers into the azure above,
waiting for her answer to fill his sail,
calling out once more as his teeth gleam--
Ma huwa 'ismuki?
Libra VenerisVenus– Goddess of air and lightLibra Veneris5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Adorning colors of sunset hues
Of ivory, pink, and glowing blues
While she awaits the waxing night
To measure stars upon her scale
That judges beauty from each gem,
Each light to sit around the hem
Like cultured pearls upon her veil.
But Libra's house will never tilt
To sacrifice her pleasure dome
The palace that she calls her home
By chance to cause a rose to wilt–
Hoc quidem nunquam facies.
A Night of CrowsSoul dark her eyes bleed obsidian, like a fever of liquid-shadows,A Night of Crows1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
seeking her lover damned…
And a myriad of talons will seed the sky — a primeval calling
of necromancy and lust untamed
Upon her breath, I whispered softly in winged-caress:
"cast thy nightscapes unto the ache of gossamer streams"
So she closed her eyes and her demon lover hungered long..
— Forever the Crow — shimmering in her darkest dreams
— Arthur Crow © 2012
The Problem With FaithThe Problem With FaithThe Problem With Faith1 year ago in Academic Essays More Like This
THE PROBLEM WITH FAITH
Religious faith, one can think of it as believing without objective evidence. However, as Michael Shermer(2010) points out in his book The Believing Brain, for most theists they are not believing on blind faith they 'know' that there God is real(pp.178). Therefore, going from what many theists and 'believers' say when it comes to their belief, they say that their belief (faith) resides as a tacit (know how) form of knowing. When confronted by such a theistic claim, Hume would perhaps say, yes we can accept that such theists at least think that they know, but are they possibly under a misapprehension.
Faith at its core is a puerile system of belief, and it infantile precisely because it developed during a dark age when our species had no idea what a germ theory of disease was, we had no notion of climatology, or for that matter the validity of cosmology over astronomy and or biology over alchemy. Faith persists, unfortunatel
Life's BonfireWhen the time comesLife's Bonfire1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
And God calls my name
I will make a stake
Of all my mistakes
All dreams and hopes
Desires and friend
Of all I loved
And the ones who left
On the bottom I will put
Tree climbing, first bike
Always alone at home
That didn't feel right
I don't blame you Mummy
You were so young
I don't blame you Daddy
That you worked all the time
Then will go the pain
That ruined my life
And my childhood was gone
And I wanted to die
Next it's time for the people
Who hurt me or left
So called boyfriends
And forgetful friends
And these few moments
I wouldn't dare to tell now
What I did with them
On the top of that pile
I will throw my love
And the God will judge me
On all that I did
All I've left after
The proof that I lived
Under a Witches SkyAnd lo there he said: "I am darkness rising"Under a Witches Sky7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
— ‘an apparition bleeding into a dreaming sky
Distilled in the timbre of windswept voices,
black feathers enchant earth in fevered-song
Magick ebbs & shimmers thru earthen veins,
seething like a migration of hungry wolves
Silvery eyes peer, drinking the ether of souls;
watching the spirit world fold into the mists
And where Shadows and Witches conjure,
— myriad talons beshrew Winter’s prayer
For eons I hath wandered in forgotten lore
— a sleep walker thru ash & fire, hunting ..
Beneath Moon solemn and drifting,
I covet thy ghostly figure velvet, undressing
Pools of amaranthine spill from mine eyes
Her ebon hair dripping in the evening tide
I rest my lips upon visage of thy fabled kiss
Thou art my darkest Witch — the wilderness
of a thousand spectre’s lusting ...
And unto this primeval calling, we shall seed
Poised in hallowed nightscapes caressing,
I brood and ponder ....