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Silent City - Part 1

Ill-fated crowd neath unchained cloud: the Silent City braves against a sudden sullen flood, unleashing lashing waves which wash the stony structures clean with radiance that laves. Deserted streets, once dense retreats, spin yarns of yesterday, with faded words no longer heard (though having much to say) since teeming life (abundant, rife) surceased and slipped away. Within its walls? Whist buildings, tall! Outside the City? Dunes! They frame a frail forgotten tale, in carved primeval runes, the symbols strung like halos hung in lifeless, limp festoons. The City’s blur? A sepulcher for Christians, Muslims, Jews - Cathedrals, Temples, vacant now, enshrine their residues, though churches, mosques and synagogues abide without a bruise. A church’s Gothic ceilings guard the empty pews below and, windswept blown above the bones, a maiden’s blue jabot. The Saints, in crypts, though nondescript, grace auras now aglow. Stilled chapel chimes! Their clapper rope (that tongue-tied confidante) won’t writhe to ring the carillons (alone, aligned) to haunt; its flocks of jute, like fallen fruit, adorn the holy font. Stray footsteps swarm through church no more (apostates that profane) - their echoes in the nave ring thin, while chalice cups arcane serve bitter brine as altar wine polluted by the rain. No face will come with jagged tongue to sing a silent psalm nor paint pale lips with languid quips to pierce the deathly calm, nor pray for mercy, grace deferred, nor beg lethean balm.
Continued in Part 2 YARNS: threads/tales SURCEASE: to come to an end LAVE: to bathe WHIST: hushed, silent, still RUNES: (mysterious, magical) characters/symbols of ancient alphabets JUTE: fiber used to make rope LETHEAN (pronounced “li-THEE-uhn”): inducing forgetfulness, oblivion

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 9/2/2013 12:21:00 AM
Geez! Bless your talent oh God!
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Date: 7/12/2013 2:32:00 PM
Master of esoteric rhyme; this seems to have wings that takes me to places I've sometime had to be. It washes over me like the waves that won't leave you alone. Beautiful and moving. Love, Lizzie
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Date: 12/8/2012 6:51:00 AM
Dear Terry, a sepulcher for Christians, Muslims, Jews - What beauty wasted on eternal zealots. Your abandoned church bells ring loud with the warlords' yells and pitiful piety. On to 2. love, Kathy
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Date: 11/27/2012 6:30:00 PM
Interesting write, Terry. Sounds like a sad and forelorn place that still has the faint essence grandeur. Kind of melancholy, sort of makes me sad. Yet still an amazing write! For me an emotional probe.:) Best wishes, Mikki
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Date: 11/27/2012 3:17:00 PM
Exceptional piece, you have woven many intricate images together here.
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Date: 11/27/2012 12:37:00 PM
Ha ha..love it! And the little discription at the bottom.Very nice.. :o)
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Date: 11/27/2012 11:31:00 AM
Elizabeth has said so well in such few words what I feel for this poem of yours. Where I have only comment on the final part of the previous poem I must start commenting on each. Great work!
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Date: 11/27/2012 8:57:00 AM
my goodness, this is very well crafted!! and to think you have two more parts!! I will come back to them when I have a lot of time to really study them out. VERY good work here.
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Date: 11/26/2012 10:45:00 AM
here we go again, on a enchanted journey that you create Terry, see you again in part 2...
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Date: 11/26/2012 4:45:00 AM
See part 3 comments. Just wanted to tell you that you might want to consider posting a multiple part poem in reverse order. That way, the parts will appear in the proper order when viewed. Cheers, Roy
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Date: 11/26/2012 4:21:00 AM
My addiction gets stronger as I eat up these creations. It takes an amazing vocab to weave this kind of magic and I sure enjoy the trip! Love, Elizabeth
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