You have the Florentine beauty of the soul,
with pale fingers as if made of snow,
you play nocturne farewell melody
on my ribs as if they were a harp.
and your renaissance soul
will conquer this simple one of mine,
and it will not remain of me
nothing but an outline in your past
that will complete your Shakespearean tragedy.
A picturesque depiction
of self-destruction,
after capitulating to beauty.
Capitulating to the wild, random and fickle.
Sigils weaved from nothing, we digest,
divide amongst our kin,
our hands stiffened and hastily fragmented,
our eyes on the sun,
we are all wrapped in cellophane,
falling in place, as the holy crown for man, our Lord and Savior.
Man forbid thou escape his grip today!
Even so, he will surely find thee later.
Leaving nothing to his children but cowardly shame,
his back turned toward the light
His memory the captor of a traitorous scheme,
capitulating through the fight
His legacy broken, his endowment recalled,
his reputation scorched and burned
Offering to the Devil his original sin
—with redemption twice suborned
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
towering weeds
the unkempt garden
~ admitting defeat
posted on July 31, 2018
seen from the highway traversing
backroads in central south dakota
the framework of an old homestead
a carapace more than a structure
in the distance gnarled limbs held
rusted barbed wire in place as fence
scant distance from the homestead's
weathered shell still standing proud
a decades old Aermotor windmill.
it filled a galvanized tank guarding
life giving water for far grazing cattle
golden crisp prairie grasses spread
far as an eye could survey
weathered bond of the homestead's
walls stood--relics of another age
hardened and annealed from
daily immersion in plains weather
noble despite capitulating to time.
in the minds eye he sees the windmill
at Little Reata from the movie "Giant"
as light faded welcoming the dusk he could see
the youthful Jett Rink climbing its ladder
rising to gain the platform-then squatting
to survey his empty land
the silhouette of Jett's sharp-cut features
visualized more than open grassland
Jett envisioned an empire. the visitor kept
mementos of a unique bygone era.
old homestead
9-29-16
DEAR GOD,
why must I see the road blocked--
and make the about-turn?
I want to know something--
why must all my dream become oblique
and blatantly bare?
your generosity stills stands--
waiting to inject my pessimisms.
in absolute rejoinder, God I agree
the solemnity, the gravity, all that matters.
I stand to be corrected now.
I stand to be given another luck, God.
by placing me anthropocentrically--
I got myself condoned on that glorious tree,
God why did you do that?
why did they bow to me for instance--
capitulating their will under my foot?
or does it mean they pray me?
I am just a piece of the clay--
and you know that God
my righteousness is underdone
it has empty existence at all, God!
Kissed by the rose of death.
It's sweet black petals
taste of wine.
I suckle on her
luscious petals,
consuming her
delightful, fragrant aroma
Descending,
Capitulating
to the dark beauty of
her malevolent spell.
Distracted.
Engrossed by
her ebony lips.
Disregarding
the noxious prick
of her prodding thorns
Gently piercing,
consuming,
assimilating
my existence.
Hush
a murmur -
a burst of mirth - you laugh.
A giggly boy or two; the
drone of you
mixed with monkey's bonding squeals
slide up the stairs; on polished
paternal air.
Then a deep man's voice where
once a boy's ascended - mellow with
early manhood. Resonating;
capitulating - exclaims agreement.
And I see through gauze
made murky by time
us five - woven
warmly -
We struggle to understand our meager existence in this brief, finite life. We hide under our fragile beliefs from the onslaught of the fiery consequences of our actions; which rain down like well-targeted bombs. Our paramount undertakings are of little significance in the grand scheme of things. And for a split second, we feel as small as we actually are. Epiphanies are few and far between, as we arrogantly watch the universe revolve around us. And we are broken down; capitulating and succumbing to our rushed and structured lives; always looking back to when the clock was a little slower... When we were a little less important... When making sense didn't really matter...
I’m back from the aborted time
Where mother earth’s womb foiled me an innocent prime
A crime precipitated with tears of revenge on my carefree mondaine,
Again I’ve come, ushered by thunderstorms and hurricanes
Descending with spleen of capitulating rage from above
Where I had seek castrated-justice from people who know not love,
My angered tears are tattooed. Henceforth, ye’d find my sweets bitter.
Imperiled and mutilated on surgeon’s blade, my spirit groans and quiver, while hers glitters
Her joy of motherhood quakes with the sound of my blub at the doomy sands
When sweats of sorrows and heavy downpour ferries me to the midlands;
Oh my arrival, she’d be filled with a painful smile, a tragedy of happiness!
She’d wish she never pulled that plug out of coyness.
Again, heaven dims its light as one of its kind depart
Downwards. I’m the earth child, the wailing nipper with no heart!
My own version of 'Abiku' written by J. P. Clark
""REVEALING FREEDOM, PEACE, LIFE, PERFECT TRUTH BELITTLES NO ONE ULTIMATELY!" LIES OFFER
THE SAME TO THE LATTER THROUGH THEIR MISCONCEPTION OF THIS KNOWING IN TURN ONLY AN
ASSUMING DEATH.
OH BUT IF IT NOT FOR GOD'S GRACE... WHERE THEN NOW TODAY WOULD I BE... ?""
Rocks treadled whereupon varying each one knowing the likeness in kind gravel;
cachinnating lieu erroneous doggerel evermore evolving winding roads machinate
capitulating professing their eminent universal proposals.
Priceless, prudent, discernment-certain mid them remaining conjoined, verity's whisperings
divine; felicitous basking harmonious thereupon crying out forevermore; lamentably...
though-eager; viable their treasures... neglected-they're often-cast beyond... .
Proven always overtly granted-abiding amid gathered-up by the-acceptance the fact of this
broken-through their error, made-amenable bartering in view of this themselves time and
again; offering themselves another-another gander within, the truth; of God our Creator... .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NIs6VgZN4hk&feature=related