How peculiar… one lonely stumble upon another lonely.
That, in itself, is really unimaginable, yet, seems possible.
A wonderful idea!! Two meet to extend the loneliness idea…
I like that!! Where are you, lonely girl??
Come to me, be lonely with me!!
Let’s both share the same loneliness, the same desires…
Be brave, don’t hold back! Find me so we can both be lonely
Together, yet still one; I will wait for you…..
Just.. come on, I’m waiting for you!!
Search more than you had done before;
Look left and right, I’m here… look furthermore!!
Let yours guide to mine;
Let your loneliness, find mine!!!
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vol 7, Ondy Ready to Fly!
On the back of a chair, a plastic bag
Hangs by one of its carry loops
The other free to move in the breeze
Which enters from the window nearby
Back and forth, fitfully waves the free loop
Calling me, or something near me
Passing on a beckon from the atmosphere
To whom addressed?
What elements are signalling each other
Beyond my understanding, if not notice;
What their arcane subject?
Within my being, something shivers
As the unsecured loop
Waves me on.
From dust to dust
Earthly body must return
For eternal life
The soul must learn
Do no harm
Much love to emphasise
No fear just calm
The soul will rise
Discover all that is arcane
When we pass from here to there
The pinnacle eternal flame
Before we leave wisdom to share
Archegonium, arcanum.
Shaped like a flask or tom-tom drum.
Sagebrush and pitcher plant, sweet wine.
Red rhinoceros, yohimbine.
Ricochet, round rebound ride roil.
Oracle, bad dreams within boil.
Karyon, at the center found?
Nucleus, cell. Synapse, surround.
Terminal, termite, thermite, torch.
Chew through the floorboards. Borax, scorch.
Yataghan, yashmak, christen clepe.
Hound, underground linger and leap.
Ktenology by kumiss?
Knissomancy, thy kurtosis?
Yperite, yon ypsiliform.
Poisonous gas, the foe keep warm.
Yonderley yucca, yex yusho.
Stain their skin as you kill them slow.
Xiphoid, thy sword-shaped clenching force.
O katabothron, at thy source.
Xography, cast a xoanon.
Tridimensional, O black swan?
Ballerina, thy blessed balm.
Dancing like dew down frond of palm.
Keckle the kedge, keelhaul the keeve.
Languidly, liquor, lest love leave.
Kier filled with kilderkins of kif.
Cannabis grown by coral reef.
Oceanic rift, occipital.
Taligrade, talionic, trull.
Knarred knobber, knubble. Knor, sore knout.
Krasis, kraurosis. Crisis, clout...
2026-06-14 Forever more poetry contest sponsored by Constance La France
So many questions about life's core
So many perspectives to reveal this ideal forevermore
What may come and what once went before
Much intrigue surrounds this concept forevermore
My soul will it be forevermore?
Full of earthly lessons learnt and kept in store
I walk alone along a seaside sandy shore
The sun the moon the stars will they also be here forevermore?
I postulate reincarnation many times an encore
Will this cycle be continued ongoing forevermore?
Past lives? No memories can I yet restore
In my next lives will I be a man forevermore?
All that's arcane I am kept in so much awe
when will it be revealed what might be forevermore?
I'll leave the answers to God, He will know the score
So much wisdom it seems like He's been here forevermore
Vintage vinyl our rare groover
Let’s toast this goalpost mover
No boast our third man hoover
Arcane host Kane a soul soother
Again our stain and pain remover
Pledges to make edges smoother
He’s our medieval cathedral louver
Trained so hard.. a self improver
Was a "when in Rome" approver
An ascetic tome like Martin Luther
Now depart for T20 in Vancouver?
Huge heart is part of his oeuvre
Another behind cover manoeuvre
Find his art at home in the Louvre
Stellars so bright and so many
Generations of eyes fascinated with augury
Pillars behind the moonlight so plenty
Constellation of dyes adulated with sobriety
When you were young and gazing at countless stars
Year after year never slept at night without litted scars
Scars of night's canvass of twinkling lights
Pulsars beeping in the midst of darkest sights
Now that everybody has grown old
Asking why many stars have gone so cold
Where did most stellars hide and go?
Wondering why they disappeared and said "No"
Above the places where you grew up stargazing
Below are spotlights of people's wishful thinking
Now that you've aged and started recollecting
Bow and applaud yourself...
You survived even without dreaming!
Seeping through every pore of our bodies
Through every aspect of nature's bearings
Runs a certain energy that we have come to know
Some call it conspiracy, some call it witchcraft
That only those with lunacy can truly feel it
What we have come to term with the word "magic"
Whether in a crystal that took millions of years to form and shape
A flower that just blossomed in the spring
Or water falling from up above in the chaos of the sky
The question is, are you one of the ones who can feel it?
Radiating so intensely you can almost see it
Creating feelings of tranquility, protection, and more
Through study and observation, one can master this magic
And turn the simplistic, into the complex
Make one emotion, a full on experience instead
In the world I wish to create, this force rules all
We tame the calamity, and forge it into paradise
Waves crashing upon shores, becoming rain, becoming more
And one day I will have it fully mastered
Bent to the will of the alchemist
So that even the idea of negativity itself may have a cure
We, the Arcane, plod along,
Our faith keeps us strong,
If folk listen to us,
There'd be Peace, no fuss,
Far better than a bomb,
Prayers unite with aplomb,
Peace now! Damn right!
No need to get uptight,
Cost annihilation,
Faith leads liberation,
our faith keeps us strong,
Humans, plodding along...
A violet blaze, a whispered plea,
From ancient depths, a fire set free.
Purple flames dance, a spectral sight,
Where shadows writhe in ethereal light.
No heat it holds, no scorching sting,
But secrets deep, its embers sing.
A language lost, a forgotten rhyme,
Of magic born in the mists of time.
Whispers of power, ancient and bold,
In swirling smoke, stories unfold.
Of forgotten gods and realms unseen,
Where secrets dwell, forever keen.
The purple fire, a beacon bright,
Guiding lost souls through the darkest night.
A siren’s call, a beckoning hand,
To realms unknown, a mystical land.
But touch it not, for its power lies,
In the whispers of magic, in the secrets it hides.
A fire arcane, a mystical flame,
Purple and potent, forever the same.
The resolute mind indomitable,
the feisty surfer on the waves of life
of curled crests with strewn fractured moon
and dark troughs of sunken stars,
recedes with the ebb of time,
looks out for the shore of the past.
The rolling sands etch seaward footprints,
contoured as the crumbling pattern of decay.
Time arrow finds the destined course
to the topography beyond the shore,
away from the eroded wilderness abandoned
where emptiness absorbs the hues of hope.
In the weed-webbed terrain deep within
piles up the wreckage of life unlived,
turning the flushing garden to wasteland.
The corridor paved outside its delicate fence,
waits to be walked spellbound
to the sanguine meadow of tomorrow.
The innovative memory invents
the arcane skill of alchemy,
glistens gold in the rusted crust of ruins.
Marigold blooms in the junkyard
on the scrap stack of desolate being,
with the touch of the Midas mind.
arcane orange light
shining through winter woods....
just beyond
daybreak
Written: December 01, 2022
There is a wall,
an imaginary one,
that skirts a boundary
where beyond,
a kind of madness waits,
an hallucinatory place
at the end of the mind.
Inside the wall is where
sense makes monuments
of order, where precision
prevails over chaos and life
is lived in rows gated
from the uncertanties
that swirl just outside.
What lies beyond
is raw and fluoresces
with a freedom
torn from the absolute,
calls into existence a poem,
the visions of a prophet,
nonsense, and the arcane
chatter left over after
the dissolution of whoever
it was that lived there
inside your head.
The icon fly's high watches all
in absolute absence disdain.
In the shadow of the Acadian machinery
Man's industry belches black smoke.
into a polluted bruised sky.
Gears turn in arcane factories
faces of white skeletal things wither
watch absent heavens, staggering
Along the windswept sea stretching to infinity
broken bones of unimaginable Tyranny
I see all as it once was in the mind's eye
bleak landscapes of industry burn
spires reaching to torch heaven,
to touch the face of a forgotten god
Oblong boxes burn like tombstones in a cemetery
The orb of moons silver light trace
Black sandy beaches
Oily bruised waves crest
I stand and scan the horizon
a dark sea deep a lighthouse flares
I note how the waste blinds me
I feel the bitter ice of industry
cut in my broken soul
I can only fight to weaken from this nightmare...
Lone machines hum and sway,
back and forth to the rhythm and rage.
Optics lens reflect refract and collect
the thunderheads of blood-soaked clouds,
build violent, violet lighting shimmers,
capers, flickers, and fades.
Lancing, dancing striking into a sick parade
Of the damned the beaten and lost march
in time to the metronome
as the eye of creation watches
from afar its sliver light
graces all in its cold embrace...
these white things, gaunt emaciated
Wispy figures in the gloom
damaged and damned doomed to
toil in the Arcane Factories
of nightmare and holocaust.
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