Best Alchemical Poems
An alchemical raven's gray rhapsody awakens those cynical roses who
Breathe-in the ebony beams of blood-bathed sun, exhaling
Cacophonies that ricochet across these truthful horizons where,
Depressive roars embalm Lilith's lawns. Awash with smoked prairies and
Equinoctial secrecy, my neon lips swathe in life's witchy lies, for -
Flames of fury, lace every lead feather of the pewter crow, that feasts on beliefs.
Grieving charcoal stars swing like souvenirs of deceit when,
Heartbeats of hibiscus moon, shiver and shatter upon my schizophrenic
Ink, carving betrayals in asphalt ashes. "Am I a
Jewel of jinx, floating like a jet-black jasmine across
Kohl orchards?" - whispers time's wistful rebirth in the
Lachrymose lake of death, as conspiracies entwine in cyan cobwebs within
Medusa's redstone heart, tumbling at my tulip-tombstone.
Now, nebulous blackbirds, rise from corbeau cinders, as
Onyx wings of resilience have torn apart and
Pierced every sheath of shimmering faith - surrendering to the
'Queen of darkling serendipity', as her clemency clenches me onto the cusp of
Rhetoric valleys and winds pirouette with a pirate's porcelain wave,
Silencing the saffron of my soulful sculpture, in eternal streams of fall.
Thornless fate has forevermore, been an insomniac illusion and maybe,
Ultraviolet elegies of saturn's rings will become a noose for my dreams and
Viola orbs will encase every dove-dawn in a woeful chrysalis,
When anxiety's darkling dungeon, spreads across rustic realms and
Xanthic Satan dethrones my poinsettia-crown, as survival holds onto the
Yarns of last crystal light within Cleopatra's claustrophobic hope. But in the
Zillionth moment - my heart shall wail in rhymeless refrain - am I the one, lost?
"...The Secret of the Golden Flower is not only a Taoist text of Chinese yoga but also an alchemical tract. (...) it was the text of The Golden Flower that first put me in the direction of the right track." C. G. Jung
"The Golden Flower alone, which grows out of inner detachment from all entanglement with things, is eternal." Richard Wilhelm
does it bloom in the subatomic quark neuron
a flower petals deranged
burning with green rage
dark firmament pullulating infinitesimal quasars
unpeeling layers of nuclear fusions fissions
the blue-blackish greenish-blue haze
is this the eye looking at the eye
which I
between the crushed ajña-eyebrows
under eyes straining to envelope reality from afar
spotty bright grains pulsating in a velvety ink-blue-black throbbing screen
thoughts racing forwards and backwards in time
childhood slights deprivations unrevenged hurts
throbbing thriving on treacherous jabs by of-all beings friends
those who profit from taken-for-granted confidences
the women who dun-you-in
thoughts of a nature to make you hate fate
then the pulsating roving churning dismembering coalescing screen
dissolves
and in the pale fringey opening white furry stripes on the blue-black greenish bulgey bed of velvet
whose I
lights the frigid fire burning dynamo
whose eye
shrivels
reopens brightens
what is it an eye
which stares
shrinks sharper by the fractioned second
closes and opens again
and again
till the pinpoint galactic blackholing centre
bigbangs
the myriad diamondlights buoyed on a myriad-petalled dryburning flowering sun
shedding golden glory
expelling all thought or is it mere doubt
the intense unrelenting feeling of
is it joy
or a fumbling stolen fear
the mental orgasmic relief
the sense of deep other knowing power come face to face
refreshing retreading the worn-out neuron paths
then the return
after the wearinesses
or is it nonplussednesses
to this world
to words
to wars
to waste
to wickedness
a world without wonder
without womb
a world dying
dead
a tomb
see only what you should see
words see only what eyes make belief
even when words don’t mean what they see
© T. Wignesan - Paris, July 3, 1997[Revised May 2003] -from longhand notes: a binding of poems. 1997
Obsidian oscillated into lava
slid across syntactic streams
tumbled thick greenwood thickets
impenetrability an illusion wicked
shatter splinter sassy sinkers
Lord Ashtar himself lifted gnarled garbage
two big broken black bags to Source
split seconds of screaming searing sores
baby posture soak singular satin
Prophet Daniel’s prison-free prediction
Coloured lava languid loosen
yin-yang of yesteryear’s yarrows
as Watchfulness wed yearnings
no black bumblebees boomerang bombs
rainbow hands bell belly beckoning
Solar flares ignite twin hearts atoning
corona emissions spill splashing space
sodalite sprinkle sundrenched shores
kaleidoscope pupils please pulsing fate
Hearts purely placed on golden plate
Four eyes fathomed Guy Fawkes fickle
feuding onto a fervid foolproof floor
Stonehenge now sturdily steadily stood
sedating simple silent sleep suavely
accede alchemical ascensions
Missions matched mottoed moulded mountains
timelines merge in moss musical movement
Justice jump Jungian jurisdiction
Presence posy a present perfection
Dreams deliver dictums to Duet
Delicious domed desserts diffusing !
Hook: Here's the truth. We gon shine. Yung MCs and that's no lie. Coming up. To our door. Yea we got them flows galore. (Repeat x4) Verse: Guess who just jumped on the phone. Riding to a new metronome. With his sickish flows. He's hysterical. So scientific, alchemical. And everyone knows I'm genuine. I'm stacking do like innuen. Time for you to tell all your friends that this yung mc is stepping in. The rap game poor. Needs a switch in economics. Cuz a lot of these suckas still talking bout the chronic. Youthful intelligence, call it Malcolm in the middle. You old brothers sit down. Try to learn to widdle. Cuz these yung MCs gonna leave you frikazied. We a whole new breed. Give the people what they need. We a brand new sound. From a dusty ghost town. Reborn from the ashes. It had burned to the ground. This yung brother yurns. For the world to hears his words. Because the rap nowadays is so absurd. But I assure you this. When I walk into the room. Put my mouth to the mic. And straight up kill it on a tune. I'll come with a style that'll match any vet. Rhymes way swift 5 blade like Gillette. The level I stand will never be met. Cuz you fly bird. Yet I fly jet. And honestly when we on the scene you hear the sickest similes. Slicing beats with symmetry that cause the haters ears to bleed. I take the light you try to keep. Cuz all your words are obsolete. It's night-night. Time to sleep. Close the crypt. Rest in peace.
A soil well rested after winter`s sleep of death
Waiting anxiously to receive life`s new breath
Seeds of potentiality sown, laboriously planted
Not knowing whether fruits to them will be granted
Blind, creative forces of nature flood the earth
Soon, many a wondrous creature will be given birth
Plants and animals themselves faithfully reproduce
But a greater miracle the heavens will also induce
Phoenixes use the souls of men as a nesting ground
Their fiery selves resurrect from their burial mound
A new beginning, birth of warmth and hope in the heart
They slowly boil the blood with their alchemical art
From some other time, from some other race
I’ve stopped for a visit, from some other place
A sovereign soul, I retain still a trace
Of all other places I’ve been to in space
I’ll stay ‘til I’m tired and learn what I must
Then move on with joy to my home in grace
My clothes are my body, it will fall of in dust
It’s only borrowed, yet a great sacred trust
Genetics of my parents, my soul, my own
And I owe them greatly for their selfless loan
It serves for the moment, and offers a ride
To view my creation, I produced from inside
I’ve passed through the curtain to appear once again
On the stage of the theatre with all of my friends
I’ll learn from them and they’ll learn from me
Interchanging our roles, growing eternally
I retain all the best features that I ever had
With the help of my friends, to these I will add
I’ll wash out my vices, my lusts and my sin
And learn from the voice of my master within
He hears all my wishes, provides all my needs
He gives me the answers and governs my deeds
He is my silent teacher, the voice of the soul
Pushing me relentlessly toward my goal
I’ve been here many times, each time playing the role
That I most needed then, for the growth of my soul
In the fourth generation I’ll appear once again
With a plan for perfection and a lifetime to spend
Seeking final completion of an eons long quest
To reach the last level in the alchemical test
Until finally perfect, no need to return
No problems to solve, no lessons to learn
Then I can rest, my journey complete
Perfected and purified in my creators seat
Then through other dimensions in steps not yet trod
I will finally arrive to reunion with God
I chose this experience and I wrote the play
I chose the actors I perform with today
It has been what I’ve made it, none other to blame
I’m a noble and a traveler, in life’s wonderful game.
I once heard frogs singing
a bridge between Earth's solar spiraled song
and my neuro-systemic brainstem
flowing down and out across octaved rib cage
and diapraxis hips
with skeletal smooth-structured hinges
folding in to bow toward Earth,
unfolding open to breathe in ProGenitor's
bullfrogged Yangish lusty air
Croaking through my sustained memory
of Golden Rules and Ratios
and Alchemical Elixirs,
Prime Zero-Culturing Relationships
coincidentally greeting co-gravity waves,
mutually resonant and effective economic
Ecologic Therapeutic harmonies
singing their bridge,
co-spiralling super-nuclear ellipses
living our Green Climax Commons
within this Earth,
our anthro-reforming Universe.
We are what we are becoming together.
To and for
and with
each healthy resilient creation,
each ego's habitat
of co-passionate mindbody properties,
effective communication tools,
functional frequencies wealthiest long-term use,
therefore economically and politically highest
and best.
Ego Lead-identity,
co-emerges Eco's GoldLogical Rule
for win/win integrity
To transform our Lead out
into Golden alchemical Rules of EcoLogic
is to replace EgoMind fearful angry identity dominance
with EarthPolitical EcoBody solidarity.
EcoLogic
intelligent growth and decay nutritional information
heat as light
cold as night
neural growth prime mindbody informational function,
Golden Rule of Time's Great Transitional UnFolding.
Golden Proportion life prevails
or Time's leaded enculturation fails.
We are a LeftBrain dominant verbose people,
learning to measure our co-empathic potentiated biological side,
our bicameral mindbody thought/felt ego/ecosystems,
with both endo- and ecto-symbiotic re-ligioning equivalency
of design and revolutionary regenerative
co-passionate/pleasure purpose.
We are bicameral ego/ecoconscious
Golden Ruling revolutions
growing in evolutionary continuity
thru resonant confluence
within as without Left-as-Right MindBody
balancing cooperative incorporated incarnated
polypathic harmonies,
arias,
each Ego singing our unique dialect
of one Permaculture Opera,
a Golden ReLigion Story
of PostClimatic Win/Win Transitional Events.
JOHANNES BRAHMS.
Soulful tumulted movements grounded in stoically melodic
Vast pools of sounds gliding in dire drumbeats of the heroic
A gift for the bleakness of being sealed in alchemical cistern
Heart stringed intense expressions within a dedicated discipline.
A chromatic boldness in harmony of some faltered age
Into the arms of tragedy defined by the controlled rage
An autumnal sojourn after the summerful of serene depart
An alpine calmness ushered in like high mountain romance
Moods of subdued confessions in an air of drowned sultry
Some virtuositic presence under long shadows of destiny.
When accidental
auroras stroll along
the pale highlights of
camouflaging corpses
and death blossoms
in vulturous hearts of
dreadful puppets,
she always holds
pixie dusts of
strawberry seeds within
october's obsidian quartz.
Gaze beyond those
glass-stitched horizons,
as she cracks the
carmine cocoon of
judgemental juxtapositions
and transforms
carbon-coated
milliseconds to
magenta-gold
pronunciation of
peaceful phrases.
She is a silken
cream-dove,
floating above
murky musings of
redolent rhinestone-
reveries.
As prismatic primroses
shall cleanse every
sin from the witching
spellbook, she will waltz
in whispering lulls of liberty,
emancipating from
chloroform-stained
chains of blood-
scented blames.
Her sunflower-shield
and aurous
summer-sword of
amber poesy
can slice spicy
silhouettes of
graphite goblins,
she will never
surrender to those
misinterpreting
megalomaniac minds,
who twirl along
masquerading rivulets
of manipulative
assumptions.
She is the shiniest roar
above grimoires of grief,
like an 'unassailable purity',
washing away
emerald exhales of pain,
who mutes each cosmic
raven's lament and
distils russet-white-lilies with
her alchemical aroma.
We shall have to eat potatoes with our meagre humble pie
Sit chilly in our garrets writing verse until we die
Sacrifice our sanity, relationships, and health
Forego all thoughts of kudos, recognition, comfort, wealth
To draw the light from darkness, and to write upon the page
Words of painful beauty, words of love, and myth, and rage
To be alchemical, polemical; be vulnerable, be bold
Make magic from mundanity, and turn the dross to gold
To be poor, but to be Poets, who shall ever blessed be
For we possess potatoes and the power of poetry
© Gail Foster 2016
An alchemist in history’s tome
My past a tale of creating my own
My energy spent on the pain
I conjured forth from living in shame
A creature came, riddled with hate
The sun would burn his delicate face
I summoned him from darkest depths
A symbol of the loss that I kept
He stared at me, all smiles and rage
Creeping through the shadows at day
At night we spoke in whispered tones
The death I sought had invaded my home
The world I feared no longer held weight
When compared to this monster’s hate
He speaks his mind and I come undone
His twisted plans could bury the sun
He knew so well, the pain that I’d seen
He multiplied each loss ‘til I screamed
But still I learned, and I was in charge
Despite his tricks and these alchemical scars
Now here I am, standing in love
For all his hate, he still holds me up
In quiet pause I learned his name
In knowing truth, our demons are tamed
Pathology of sadness
Anatomy of mourning.
To wake and see the dawn as a warning.
End of the day is the end of the dream
Confronting reality
Through the curtain of sleep.
Pathology of sadness
Alchemical solutions
Turn gold to lead
and green to red.
Autopsy of a bad day
Find the tumor that takes the colour away.
Love Inclinations
endearment
deep affection
strong feelings reactions
human emotions alchemical reactions
Adoration
6/11/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
CINQUAIN
Under the sky that dissolves dogmas like the wind does sand,
A canopy of empathy unfolds like an ancient tapestry,
Embroidered with clarity and illuminated by pure integrity,
Entangled in the fine threads of unknown transcendence.
I listen as celestial conversations sing in honey and cinnamon,
Flowing through the veins of silence like a river of perfect rhymes,
While butterflies, with shimmering silver wings,
Kiss the hibiscus dawn, a prophecy born from glass dreams.
My heart, aflame with diamond fires, reflects pages of rest,
Mirroring the soul's gratitude, painted in shades of patience,
Rising from willows of wisdom, like fortified fields,
That crown the peaks of mountains gazing at the constellations of destiny.
The golden gate, adorned with serene sepals, opens silent sonatas,
Erasing refrains written in loops, imitating recited ancient scriptures,
For once I was a marionette bound by time and fears,
The fear of liberation kept me captive in cracked calligraphies.
Now I journey through rose dunes, breathing divine light,
Eager to strip the verses of love from hypnotic illusion,
Untangling the luminous webs of the inner eye,
Realigning metaphors and eliminating the shadows of ego.
O, sapphire rings of seraphic stars, I surrender to the neon mist,
As my spirit rises toward clouds that whisper magic,
The alchemical rain of dreams falls upon me like a blessing,
Purifying the essence and synchronizing with the echoes of stillness.
Touch me with delicate truth and feel the pulse of pink lilies,
The warmth of cosmic healing, tied to conscious manifestations,
Where vibrant valleys bloom in kindness and forgiveness,
Dwelling in the timeless fragrance of the soul's rebirth.
Musk of metamorphosis and oud of revival, steeped in clarity,
My heart weaves the transcendent twilight yearning for all that breathes,
Through illuminated chakras, uniting merciful rivers with zephyrs,
Until the sky sees the Universe living in the tips of my fingers.