Best Culpa Poems
L o v e, a withering star ~
awakened amidst silence
that swirls through the night sky
like fairy lights,
i l l u m i n a t i n g
the maze of midnight
with kaleidoscopic traces
of what once soared…
But in the chasm of loss and agony,
I found the gossamer essence of hope
from the
glass-winged arms of metamorphosis…
Now I breathe you, organza moonlight,
e c l i p s e d by crimson claws
of condescending constellations,
while faith sleeps within the pale husk
of mythical mists,
drinking pomegranate ambrosia,
from the rose-gold horn
of Persephone’s throne,
as black-magic thickets thrive from
the cursed lips of tendrils ~
harvesting pain,
rustling through the vineyard
of violet orchids
amidst this heart that sings of
evergreen springs,
etched with sins and tears
onto catacomb cellars of wickedness…
Listen to your heartbeat,
there, in the mirroring cadence
of soft-spoken rhymes,
I live and reside ~
wandering through the hallways;
an asylum of metaphors
turning wraiths of words
into wisterias,
whirling in the whimsical wind,
a castle of alliterative archives
emanating empathic embers
that burned capricious chords
to carve calligraphic clemency
with Cleopatra’s gold
seized from the Egyptian deserts…
But it is through the
satanic soul of kohl seas
I found the bluest streak of bliss ~
my Felix Culpa,
sprinkling firefly dust from afar ~
I see you, awaiting the return
of butterflies…
For you and I,
we found L o v e,
inhaling poetic promises,
exhaling toxic tercets ~
with syllables of stressed desire,
you showed me rainbows of sage,
taught me the rhythm of truth,
to silence the thunder
that roars in rage
within the fragile psyche of life,
and in your presence,
I loved and learned ~
to curate colors
from
the ethereal
dreamscape of d u s k…
Mantle of sufferings
Thrust upon us all
We share in His Agony
And lift His Cross
With our tribulations
No hope, no light
Without darkness
His Resurrection is
Our hope, our light
The way of death is
The way of life
Eternity, our salvation
Began...
On
A Friday
Afternoon
Good Friday Afternoon
2022
Written for Ink Empress' 'Unwritten Absence' Poetry Contest.
C(ulpa)ble
Your unwritten absence unravelled much
Disrobing piteously your impure intent
Starkly exposing a ravaged soul as such
Cocooned in dark yarns of deceit, I lay spent
In golden gilded cage tarnishing from neglect
Plated with cosmetic veneer for society's consent
Yet, you were oblivious to the storm brewing, most perfect
Bidding the right time to sound its thunderous dissent
NEGLECT, tacitly accepted afore, HENCEFORTH NEVER GOES UNCHECKED!
The Jackal's line of demarcation ye souls' furlough for interim...
Today, cockcrows perturb in a gala thrice for thee quiescent stay,
God's Park of Ephemera, sashays the daggled the minder harks,
a chest not in to rest, of dais edicts, cudgels so contagious;
haughty wheels peddle rashly between two havocked hearts,
foisting wintry fobs of progeny pleating to let pigeons exeunt,
if bedlam trotting by pothers ye, the cob, yet calmly sings,
"Fare-thee-well, Oh snowflake in dwindle, hallow me next spring,
via crepuscules, cleaved like vacant aulas crescendo conveyance,
wholly abutting city lights, this chimney calling cannot sight!"
Jolly pedestrians twinge at our capitol! Touring a mindful chance,
Ample of verve, knowing mortuary amblers must get their fight!
"Fountains, thawing ye? Janitor, what does the blind really see?"
tryst squelch time, squirm squander squalors n' ante antiquated feet,
Jocund or beh£s belief! Ye! Behind bellicose belletrists by beggars!
When baubles full-fledged, hast consummated thee to hobnob no more,
jongleur sloshed anchors on mimes bare laid laic stoolie, loupe aims,
Headmost, request lasting breaths above broadcasting fortune n' fame,
Then fated fires the Sniper jostles from home to goad n' prod,
Ye kindred stanchion and I, skimmed, the sunset even with me...
life’s precious fabric
unravelling strand by strand
Earth weeps
Last night I heard you
through the walls
crying
and muttering some
It broke my heart
I had forgotten for a moment
Your world is not ours
your understanding
different
confusion is the normal state
it breaks your heart
I had forgotten for a moment
You have been doing so well
making new friends
independent
like everyone else
It healed my heart
I had forgotten for a moment
Life is still overwhelming
and the little things
trigger
major reactions
that break our hearts
I had forgotten for a moment
You still need me to show you
how to express emotion
guiding
through turmoil
of a broken heart
I had forgotten for a moment
Mea culpa
je mi lito
lo siento
I’m sorry
Jscervenka 5/12/15
je mi lito= I'm sorry (Czech)
lo siento= I'm sorry (Spanish)
Written a week or so ago for my son with high functioning autism.
Many times when we’ve fallen
We feel walking out of our room, sullen
Sometimes, it’s another way around
We walk out with a small trophy or crown.
The moment when our flaw rolls as Felix Culpa
We seemingly feel the spark of a good karma
And bringing along its prize in sweet vanilla
We'll say,” A blessing in disguise, Alleluia!”
Felix Culpa comes on our way with a quick rescue
Like a wheelchair picking us up without a clue
Despite our flaw, comes a miraculous grace
For we’re always drawn in God’s loving embrace.
It’s a clear reminder of Jesus Christ's salvation
Our ultimate end is so wonderful, offered by His redemption
Amidst our life’s tragedies, God has greater plans
Just trust Him completely and if we fall, we’ll stand.
traducere de: Angela Mamier Nache.
aujourd’hui dieu m’a rappelé à lui
m’a grondé comme un père en me disant
qu’un ange s’est foulé les ailes en volant
parmi mes mots et je jure que je ne l’ai pas voulu
et dieu m’a cru sur parole
après il m’a rendu tous les mots en retour
et il m’a dit gentiment de les préserver
qu’aucun ange ne se brise plus les ailes
dans leur incompris
What I have criticized in others
returns in me.
That which I despise
I am and have been.
When I stand for judgment
I ask absolution
for my humanity and mercy
for my love.
Felix culpa is a Latin phrase that comes from the words felix,
meaning "happy,"lucky," or "blessed" and culpa, meaning "fault"
or "fall". In the Catholic tradition, the phrase is most often translated
"happy fault". Other translations are"fortunate fall" or "blessed fall".
God created humans flawed and weak
with the capacity of sin who often fall from perfection
so, in his forgiveness God can create
goodness out of evil
oh, happy fault
often our life is a series of unfortunate events
we seem to always be failing
no matter how much we battle to succeed it goes wrong
but, as we work with God's helping faith
we realize we can find happiness
oh, fortunate fall
in our relationships we experience deaths that
leave us broken with grief
weeping in pits of sorrow that we need to crawl out of
bruised by friends who betray us
disappointed with people we trusted
how did we arrive here, we ponder
but, God whispers put your faith in me
oh, blessed fall
When rebellious thoughts screamed
Before the noise of life filled the quiet,
I now recall half-filled moments
Upon edge of spite
and an angry wind:
Unmoved by parental debates
This heart denied
pleas of atonement;
At eighteen, pride ruled
to cross over the night...
and walking out with a backpack,
Feisty senses burst
for sweet freedom's trail.
Feeling how ego scraped my life
As dove cooed of home's lullabye
My heels rushed back
with fresh reflection ,
Gentle air of surrender lingering within
A mistake transformed
into youth's blessing--
That through some willing desire
I began to wrap my hands...forgive;
Releasing the power of humility.
and I smile tonight, this arrogance a gift
Which tides me through...
most challenges of adulting.
Glistering liquid midnight, whispered her pain to me
Oceans hissing as thoughts scream cruelty,
Bleeding evening; a Citadel by the sea
Strawberry scent by the pyre as fine could be.
For here I fell in love with her
Fleeting, my mistress and her purest lure,
Laden fantasies as she lulled me away
Erotic, poisoned nectar where her legs fully splayed.
A flaccid branch to set me free
She sways beneath a dying tree
- a moonlit halo to attract me thither
My wishes granted to always wither
For She...
Ebon dressed this pearled enchantress
Too broken for love, devout to loneliness,
Her claws of dirt now usher my eyes
My final breath under this menstrual lit sky.
That rigid limb; now tightly strung
Closing bells of the Cathedral rung.
- Death is not too steep a price,
When blood is spent to pay for life.
The last petal fell...
When I descend in my Hell
A bullet for my thoughts as well
We quarreled to bitter, burning degrees
(you)loving me
as a tender trespasser
a chew toy
boy
demanding compliance
forced feedings
down
to sock selection
(your)conspicuous usage of chlorine
blistering eyes
a woman my mother may have idolized
(your)disciplined hemlines
entirely circumspect
subtracting the abusements
how (your)words struck, in the rage of an enemy fire
and less, the undisturbed lust after hog's feet
I was heading for America
a better sow to plow
with spangly blue eyes
and ruddy virtue brimming inside her countenance
out of the despicable cold,
The harpy's fury
(you)poked at my shortness
magnified my retardations
I was a crouching slug in (your)supercilious shadows
Understanding I couldn't swim
as all the world knows
any banal fact
for example, water is wet
and a million times (your)augur's ball
pronounced death by sea
little legs shall not be inclined to desert the scalding Egyptian sands
was it (your)psychosis or mine ... doubts dressed as destiny?
I missed the exodus of the unsinkable ship.
The Titanic horn tolled whilst she distanced,
the mocking tintinnabulation
of elegiac bells.
Sins of others may give pain with which I'm fraught
But don't cause me unceasing distress that lingers within
It's those things that I did but should not have, or didn't but ought
That nag me in the wee small hours and stay under my skin
Some time ago, when we were free to do;
ten I was, or twelve?
I walked along a misty lane to school
the etched patterns of ferns and trees
on my window when I awoke
now echoed in the frozen grass
and early ferns
being gently crushed
by each step I took.
The sun had begun its morning due
to warm the earth,
and generate the day's miasma mist;
as did the breathing of the gathering crowd,
which hung upon the hedge
of privet, hawthorn, yew,
to rest upon a thousand spider webs
a myriad of droplets dew.
And there it was
the spider
fat and yellow;
waiting.
Not in the shadows,
as the others I had seen
but, eight legs akimbo
in the centre of it's now opaque web
taunting.
I had a cricket in a matchbox
in my pocket
A prize from yesterday's
sweet forage.
I placed the wriggling insect
upon the web and watched
the attack
the bite
the wrap.
And so I write