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Best Poems Written by Blameless Vestal

Below are the all-time best Blameless Vestal poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Blameless Vestal Poem

Forget-Me-Not

Between Fear and Mirth sat Falsehood and Truth,
Who made away in a kissing-booth.
They snagged each-other in prickl'd vine,
Lit the scene in wax and wine.

As evening faded clear to dawn,
In her heart kind Truth true mourn'd.
For Falsehood thieved this memory-hers,
He stuff'd her head with larkspurs.

'This kind of thing I'm doing, I'm sure,
I'm sure it has been done before...

In this heart, this kind of heart, I'm sure
Lies a memory of this thing in mind,
Though I forget, in mind, I'm sure,
That the thing I forget is good and kind.

This I know, Yea, I spoke and heard,
That you who is kind remember these words.
This I know, I know Falsehood reclined,
In comfort and lux, with Truth beside.

This kind of thing I do, I know,
Was done again an era ago.'

Details | Blameless Vestal Poem

A January Summer In July

Night I am cold, though viscera burning,
I have pierced on a spit my torso turning.
Supposedly decomposing, et cetera;
words as per usual, concerning;

Do suggest a plethora, array, of conjured synonyms. 
Inspire in me apathy, disinterest; 
say, so that I can find Sleep. But once darkness fell,
I peeked under my pillow for it, and it was not there.
I even scrabbled around the flesh folds of dirtied blankets;
though I was compelled to make the gallant effort of 
shifting the heft of my ungainly abdomen to one side;

My hand, adjoined in precarity, reached for my slowly pickling liver 
in its jar on the shelf. Now you and I
acquainted in the present tense;
I extend my limbs, slender, so that you can't touch 
the lazy pockets of fat inhabiting what I still seem to think is my Body, 
stripping me of what could have been 
a January summer in July;

Please help me fall asleep tonight in my own skin.
I clutch shards of ragged glass in my fists and take
a decadent sip from my bleeding palms;
these are metaphors flattened in tar and exhaustion,
and this is grief for images that will never be seen;

And my mind is stood hiding behind the curtain.
Drunkenly I tumble
into the arms of a Thesaurus with a mocking face,
and a man who loves for sport

26.01.2021, for Brian Strand's All Yours (Jan 26)

Details | Blameless Vestal Poem

Babyliss In Acid

You are a hole in my head;
when I look inside, I see a dentist's drill 
grinding sweetly against my hippocampus
and it must have hit a tear duct by accident 
because when I wake, it has been raining.

I douse myself in Argan oil and
set myself on fire with my hair straightener
(ordinal, interval). Never again will I sleep;

That night I dream of
at last! A letter from you
though when I wake, I do not check the post.
I switch on the oven, and logic 
swallows the half-consciousness of your handwriting.

Now I rise from my reverie; it is babyhood
and it is morning and I
sweat under the covers,
learning everything in five minutes,
Orlando, Leon, Halleluiah, and 
people looking like other people,
a man that used to be handsome,

In the veins of a red-eyed pensioner he 
drags me from my bed in upside-down buses 
and the screaming blue walls of the DVLA office;
I fall cyclical into double brackets as I am
reaching out for a glass of water
and I am forever

Brushing my hair in the face of death;
I sit down in the shower and
wonder if it will get infected

Details | Blameless Vestal Poem

One Day I Want To Look At the Sky And

One day I want to look at the sky and think back to days of past,
(when I would lie dreaming) (of this very same sky),
which will sleep brightly beyond my outstretched hand.

One day this moment, (that I know not to be of time, nor of place) 
will exist as a never forgotten dream, 
from which when I wake, I will look at the sky and think back to days of past
(when I would lie dreaming) (of this very same sky, that I know not to be of time, nor of place),

Which when I do wake, from a never forgotten dream,
will be as pure as truth in dissipating vapour.

Details | Blameless Vestal Poem

Emily Dickinson's Tiktok Addiction

I sidle a hand through the ink-bleeding screen,
My automaton heart now a fistful of glee.
For a flickering vigil in Purity's name,
Lie comatose dour mockery of roses and flame!

Only such beauty in idyll remains
Soaring from laughter 'fore its wilted decay,
‘What gorgeous weather we're having these days’ —

I'll be wringing out my bones and hanging them up to dry
once the sun grows far too bashful a rival 
for the concrete shadows of a Haptic sky —

Details | Blameless Vestal Poem

Away With the Wind In Time

Join me, in my hand, ??
Join me in the Institute for a Common Humanity.

Here I perch, naked and beaten, on a tiny glass slide within a microscope.
It is wondrous to find that this skin is formed of a million shattered triangles,
our brains fractal-ised caverns of tentative foliage.

Join me, in my hands, ?? ????!
Join me in the Institute for a Common Humanity.

Where, and too far away! 
Our hearts sink in sealed jars of Dread;  
an unwilling relief is sent of the wind.

In time, an ultradian contortion;
we'll peer into the minds of a derelict people, and clear as ever day
shall arrive the curious light.

????? ?? ???? ?? ??? ?????.
?? ??? ???? ?? ??? ????? ??????,
?? ????? ???? ?????.

Details | Blameless Vestal Poem

Grobag Mcginty's Rise To Power

I took a sip of water that looked like you,
I have made this so of sorceries new.

I christened words betwixt words behind,
Beyond et cetera, though within mind;

I shut my eyes and robbed today from tomorrow,
I plucked my heart from its timeless sorrow.

Then held the sky atop a fingertip bleeding,
And planted in the wound a heavenly seedling.

Details | Blameless Vestal Poem

A Study By Excerpts

She(she in her looking) looks in romantic light at jewels under gemstones in silver bone-plates and such and such and now she turns to midnight city in roaring by cars outside windows and the claims and conjectures of these one-day nuclear think tank professors prof yes and prof no, and so and so. The state might be, they say, it may, but the individual, the belief in Christ, the salvation of the one, they say, it may be nihilo ex nihilo ex. 

Poised in the most feline and learned manner does her silken engine turn to looking, looking and looking and something within this nothing-all, is being as looking at her in. To midnight is owed a sincere apology. I have blasphemed against my ignorance, says such and such, as swords are incised into the most loving of flesh by profs yes and no, who scream out in perfect unison, 'I have turned in on my looking, and here we are looking-forever towards the love of love!'. So be so, aliquid ex nihilo, et non placet.

Details | Blameless Vestal Poem

A-Long I Walked To Sun-Sets Vast

A-long I walked to sun-sets vast,
Gazed I to skies torn by bleeding clouds.
Cities loomed, and still I pass't,
I knew the gruesome beauty of the land.

Blooming dew-bells trod to dust,
Leaves fell from heights so grand,
Though gruesome beauty knew I must 
Retreat to wond'rous worship of the mind.

So long I though't, 'til I were blind,
Gazed mere to Self; to fret, to rue,
In Self-Thinking was I so entwin'd
Thought not could I of thoughts a-new.