Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Poet Free verse

Notes About The Poem

At the Seat of the Catacombs of Amygdala

 
"At the Seat of the Catacombs of Amygdala"



 
"...the curse ruled from the underground down by the shore
And their hope grew with a hunger to live unlike before..." The Curse



Violet Black the night is still 
diving through oceans 
of stars now waking
violins soaring in my
heart’s crater speed to 
the seat of Amygdala
Descartes moving closer
anticipation,the Sphinx 
is smiling and Horus waiting 
in his castle calls me home
abandoned in my green field mind
of Lavendar spirits 
swinging hidden essence of
secret monk’s theribles 
shrouded hoods in their 
grim reaper guarded 
churchyards writing words
upon the air their Purgatory Alter
daughtermotherdaughter
Goddess prayers of devotion
stealing love from sharks
feeding them pearls
and sirens singing in their love
Indigo rapture velvet 
bee keeper gloved hand 
smoking catacombs
Supersedure Queens and 
absent drones, bottles corking
time hideous time sand dripping
wet tears through the Hour Glass, 
never stops diamonds drop by drop
acceleration dress-ups buckled 
straight jacket uniform 
no arms  marching
with the Soldiers of Conform
setting tables,last feast rosaries
now I lay me down to sleep
up the stairs bowed and weeping
swept out of sight in starched collars
and cobwebs glistening Huntsman, 
no Audrey Hepburn,no Caron Daddy Long legs
Aether sees her in a mirror
falling down to Hades Lewis' traps
on a hero’s mission
saving 3 Graces and returning
returning HOME.
Violet Black the night is still 
diving through oceans 
of stars now waking 
waking she returns
spinning her Golden Chord
to pull you away closer 
into her sweet dreams held to her
peaceful Polar Bear Hug sleeves
it was never cold in their Igloo
truth serum syllabub no silver spoon
happy dreams,rough seas,then peaceful
and still
Black Swan singing in 
Joan of Arc chain mail
Heavenly wings slip
softly into starlight 
away from stalking cats 
blood sucking bats
barking Hounds of Baskerville
through galaxies of milky 
honeycomb, to where God
hides in a protected glass snow globe
somewhere beyond 
the pulsating No Go Zone
Charon’s been handed his token
None of this should be spoken.
Nyx has Aether in her arms
they are flying home
Violet Black the night is still 
diving through oceans 
of stars now waking.
Honeycomb cement feet
sacrificial drowning
A little death.
Supersedure.
Back in "their" kitchen 
the smell of stewed pears and
chocolate cake baking.


(Lovejoy-Burton/Jan 2018)


 

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Leanne Lovejoy-Burton February 18, 2018 at 12:03 AM https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4hTUPFBaaQ

John Hamilton February 3, 2018 at 12:02 PM I forgot what my comment said but I think I said mind blowing and wonderful, not something I want to read only once, not sure I understand it but I do like chocolate cake! lol! Leanne Lovejoy-Burton February 3, 2018 at 1:22 PM That is perfectly all right not to understand it, John. It is an abstract dreamscape. There are people, who are close to me, outside of Poetry Soup, who will understand it. Thank you for taking the time to comment again.

Freddie Robinson Jr. January 31, 2018 at 7:34 PM Just got beamed up by this molecular transporter poem, Leanne! You word weave w/the best of 'em, my talented poetess friend. So well-versed in the pantheon of antiquity mythology. I learn from your breadth of knowledge constantly. You are a rare gift to this poetry site! The opening line is a stunner, it hypnotically pulls you in. Magnificent poem. Love and peace always. Leanne Lovejoy-Burton February 1, 2018 at 3:14 AM Thank you Freddie, I'm stoked you liked it.

Frederic Parker January 28, 2018 at 11:24 AM sorry dear poet somehow while reading my outbox I accidentally deleted your poem and my replies, just put it back in my fave page...touchy computer

Silent One January 27, 2018 at 10:39 AM Interesting title, I was blocked from watching that video.. This is a poem that moves at a fast pace, kinda like how some peeps minds work, I suppose that is your reason for mentioning amygdala as they play a key role in processing emotions.. Would be an interesting seat ot view some people's minds.. Leanne Lovejoy-Burton January 27, 2018 at 2:25 PM I've responded below to Frederic what the poem revolves around. I had considered including the Pineal as the two are related. Everything within the brain is related, but the pineal (circadian rythms and dream states) is more aligned with the Amygdala (emotions, flight/fight response, survival). The Brain, to me, is a mysterious realm. Descartes was an interesting chap, his work in life and theories.