Best Auguries Poems
'Twas the time of Summer solstice, they wed
Verdant leaves clung to trees; the month was June
Whispered troths of love, sacred vows were said
'fore fauna, rising sun and waning moon
Prince Largent was soon to be crowned as king
but Mekram, the wise, held grief in his eyes
He smiled with joy when Asha wore the ring
Though death neared, he feigned a joyous disguise
Bodies joined, celestial and human
Festive auguries 'pon the forest floor
Skies aflame, trees canopied with lumen
Their world glows today, and forevermore
'Twas said to be just an immortal tale
but in June, astral light gleams in the vale
Are they mere grains of sand spewed by
the waves of the seas or are they
stars of the heavens washed ashore?
(Written in reference to William Blake's "Auguries of Innocence" -
"To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour")
~3x8 contest by nette onclaud
~Image#2
~Abdul Malik / 1/1/15
WINTER JOURNEY’S END
Their calculations must have been at fault
Their instruments in need to calibrate
That wandering star’s location in the vault
Had seemed a compass true, inviolate
The auguries had all concurred to say
Event of moment in the cosmic scheme
To change the world forever come what may
Would come to pass; they’d seen it all in dream
Yet here they found themselves upon that night
Within a byre with beasts and men unblest
To witness scene both rude and recondite
The focus and the end point of their quest:
Young mother - fate to suffer, heart to bleed
Child God incarnate, laid in cattle feed
sight...
a prophet's mark unsheathed
radiant, quell the shadow's scream
her lips were never meant for me
in auguries
... blood uncharted
The Unsupervised Stop Sign 10-26-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Unsupervised Stop Sign
STOP!
Red lights flash crimson warnings
As arias of bloodred omens swirl about
My heedless headstrong rush past clanging signs
Into a deserted briar filled footpath in desertion.
SLOW DOWN!
Before unattended bowers of simpering weeds
Teach my mindless feet of snares and waiting snakes
While grieving angelic hosts
Sing pathetiques of harbingers.
DANGER!
Scoffing ignorance of neon auguries,
Captured in the throes of blindness,
My scorn winks in guarantees like surety bonds
That no other pathway breaths with rightness.
LOOK! CAUTION!
Heralds of merciful premonitions skirr,
Lay in tatters of disdain - pride traded for prudence
I swat at qualms and question like skeletons of leaves
Only to be swallowed into an abyss of remorse and contrition.
When spring dies shall the valley shines,
And by the light of night quivering heart away,
Yet through beauty morning confines,
Till that ripe in please, so a master archway
Where the dreamers like twin births’ filling with kisses, and lies;
Thou as Earth art fair and young and open to please,
To sing within another hour and close from the auguries
And teach everyone else just as a command of love, cease
No more from the last tear from November. I met afternoon
Where all creatures are in such display and all these plays
Too late then with thou shower thy from I am the lonely gossoon
Behind the rocks dreaming or laughing, so cold from their foreplays;
Shall I late to see through for what I become and I wish?
To hide from the moral shine what I could not abolish?
Oh! Patience, My Love.
Have hit both my eyes an unknown storm --
the undoer of my marry Spring,
is beneath my brow a gushing form,
does a drench'd cheek to a yearner bring.
My auguries, that once blessed with love,
have gales become, for a trial of
the touchstone of my faithful shape,
loyal shadows that the future rake;
does my pain emit a cunning drape,
that when praise of love, the evils shake;
still, endure this, to a phase submit,
but, wit, my wit --is my patience fit,
are my gardens, for these storms to reave,
the fruits to come of better degree;
Or will steadfast be love, if believe,
in shade of the fruitless, standing tree.
Maybe, the grandeur of love is not grand
unless we bear our share of pains at hand.
R.N.Khan, © 2012
A distant dampness wrings the air.
A weight most profound presses chest
as indrawn breath holds silent;
in the stonehedge of overwhelming gloom.
So, the mighty have fallen
auguries of a mortal doom.
Without missive,
bluestone bones, stanchions silhouette
onto a plane of pastel sky.
Gargantuan, they rise, a tomb.
So, the mighty have fallen
auguries of a mortal doom.
Brittle brown blood expunged
by millennium three,
the still, symbolic, oak forest rises.
Frozen sarsens, five, forming an open grove.
Megaliths beaconing a golden eastern dawn
So, the multitude will rise within the circle
without earthly substance, soul;
through green grasslands loam
ashen augury of a different tome.
When at a festive dance we met
In gold were those dear moments set.
We synchronised so sweetly
Without any gaucherie.
The hours like fleeting seconds sped
Our present to our future wed
But that reverie did sadly melt
The way that Eden itself did wilt..
Trepidation on Boots' corner grew
To meet you on our first rendezvous.
Glistening was the pavement wet
As the seconds just like hours crept
Were butterflies afflicting you
As your bus near the city drew?
Our first meeting had been heart-true
Could our first date idly fall through?
No,it blossomed,bloomed and it grew.
Auguries fair were in the air
Glittering prizes ours to share.
Your aunt the perfect match us deemed
And so to all around it seemed
But beware the tree of knowledge.
We eventually split
Although still one in spirit.
Yet one glimmer of hope remained
A letter from Calella came
But answer there was not
The die was cast
The spell it broke.
From that blank day until now
That omission our sorrow
Our beds were with other loves made
And" Of it make the best,"we prayed.
Would our union have been heaven sent?
But those golden moments refulgent
Forever enshrined in memory
At least.
An epitaph must now be written
For harsh Death has my sweet Rose smitten
My golden girl was taken today
Eternity but a breath away.
Embark on a journey to the world within,
Where you are the garden, the desert, and the ocean's kin.
Light the torch, brave the Stygian Himalayas' daunting span,
To find the lucent home where the day's light began.
Drink deeply from the wine pot, let the feisty spirit rise,
From the stalwart city's fermented berries, under open skies.
The clouds of fallacy, they're set to burn and turn to dust,
As lies melt away, in evanescence we trust.
Stand firm with your spear, unwavering, staunch, and true,
As cyclones of lust and deceit bring auguries anew.
Monetary monsters howl, encircling with greed's loud call,
A fierce fight looms, a cataclysm, potent and tall.
The array we face may seem a chasm, deep and wide,
Yet in this battle, we triumph only if our old selves have died.
In the land of the sun, where corpses lay, victory is found,
Resurrected by mercy's rain, in new life we are unbound.
emm*
Deep poetry has its own reality
Instrumental in setting the mind free
From the confinement of this mundane world
Transporting us to wondrous realms untold
It is manifested in Blake's poetry
Which uplifts the mind and sets it free
A heaven is seen in a wildflower
Eternity is viewed in an hour
Khayyam's moving finger writes on time's wall
Once written, there's no erasing at all
Rumi's beloved is a different kind
A manifestation of the divine
With Shelley's skylark and Keats nightingale
The music of their birdsong tells the tale
A world beyond what we normally see
The world of deep poetry's reality
REFERENCES:
1) Auguries of Innocence
- William Blake
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
2) The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
- Omar Khayyam
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
3) Oh Beloved
- Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Oh Beloved,
take me.
Liberate my soul.
Fill me with your love and
release me from the two worlds.
If I set my heart on anything but you
let fire burn me from inside.
Oh Beloved,
take away what I want.
Take away what I do.
Take away what I need.
Take away everything
that takes me from you.
4) To a Skylark
- Percy Byshe Shelley
5) Ode to a Nightingale
- John Keats
The above-stated poems reflect the world of deep poetry reality that I have mentioned.
In that endless night
we heed; cold and bitterness
unto the morning light
Sightless vision binds our eyes
madness disembarks into our lives
A cold dark prison earned
is the bittersweet sentence served
A life stolen and a life lived in hush
tis golden silence upon that burning bush
Trembling utterances on the grave
it's the human heart that we poets save
In this final night and in that coming day
let all that you dream become what may
for once the fires lit, the dream is here to stay.
--------
In response to:
"Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to Endless Night"
From Auguries of Innocence, by William Blake
“Robin Redbreast in a cage,”
So sweet this line from a bygone age!
But now ‘tis not the heavens that rage;
‘tis Raging Ram who now holds stage.
Raging Ram, who’s that? you ask.
The truth to tell should be my task.
The truth, the truth? Where art thou, Blake?
Where once was truth, all else is fake.
Before I tell of “Raging Ram,”
here’s a word on Uncle Sam
It’s safe to praise him, now he’s dead,
And Raging Ram stands in his stead.
As ”Raging Ram is doing just fine,
to make laudations I’ll decline.
Of naming names I am most leery,
I, of politics grown weary!
Diplomats may bray and bleat.
What do I hear, if not a tweet?
But Robin Redbreast long past hath flown.
Birds know things to us unknown.
‘Twere best I also take to flight?
No stomach have I for a l fight.
With wingèd messengers all fled,
‘Twere best we poets go to bed?
The Auguries of Mary Magdalene
David J Walker
I saw Mary Magdalene
Sitting on the stone bench
Near your grave
Was she here for you
Was she there to proclaim
Your absence
never looking my way or
saying a single word in
A dream about a victory
that could save my soul and
Release yours from sad visions
I remember the last time I saw you
Dressed for a journey already departed
Dressed as if form a black & white
Photograph of you taking a train
Or climbing the steps to passenger prop plane in the 50s’
Or was it a Greyhound bus in the 40s’ with a
three-day pass from camp to see your mother
And now after three days
Mary Magdalene, if you please
Recite the auguries of
Sunday morning at dawn
When arrogance pursues a despot spire
through dominance consumed with vain conceit,
‘tis but a trait that sets the world afire
as ignorance lets history repeat.
They see the presage warning of reprise
and vestal omens common sense should heed.
They know this path shall lead to mere demise
and understand the consequence of deed.
For through the ages, autocrats ignore
the auguries of how their days will end.
They rob the graves of demagogues before,
exhuming madness o’er and o’er again.
Though knowing not they sit atop their pyre,
they lie in wait to set the world afire.
They lie in wait to set the world afire
then build their strength consuming what remains.
From flames to ash, they elevate their spire
to be the latest gods of their domains.
In terror’s name they rise above the clouds
then spill their vile like deities will do
and all that bade beneath their darkened shrouds
shall suffer from the actions of the few.
But dominance is but a fleeting quest
when power is achieved through fear and dread,
for such ascension beckons to divest
a god of greed by severing its head.
The East and West surmised the giant’s girth
when all the stars from heaven fell to earth.
Book: This War of Sons; Sonnets of WWII
Chapter 9: Midway