¦¦¦¦¦ you ¦¦¦ depart
Out of my reach, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
Into the hidden,
I see ¦¦¦¦ shadow start
With recognition, and ¦¦¦
¦¦¦ wonder-ridden.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ dazed ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ I scarcely feel your loss.
You left me a gift
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ so the shadows tell
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ and silences toss
Me their drift.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ a cloven fire
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ burns in the draught
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
Kindles the darkening pyre
For the sorrowful, ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ in the streets
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
The star above the house-top greets
Me every eve with a long
Song fierily.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ the town
Glimmers ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
In a common, prison-like dress;
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
So I am not lonely nor sad
Although bereaved of you,
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
I move ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
With words, ¦¦¦ the dream shows through
As they move.
(Blackout of The Inheritance by D. H. Lawrence)
Sheep graze, silent bleat
Shepard's walk on tepid feet
Pale site soon to greet
Malevolence roar
Cloven hooves may click no more
Red eyes wreck the door
Rotted fur, sense life
Pole that swings the mighty strife
Blood of two, one knife
Wind blown fur. ripped skin
Lambs cry, herdsman hard win
Ewes pain, wolfs dead grin
Grey a sheep, keeper weeps
His flock, the wolf never sleeps
His herd, beware... wolf leaps
We've woven Samson's hair, into Emperor's clothes
From the tangled web, that enough of us chose
We try to find our way back, while the drawbridge is closed
As the portcullis crashes on the cry in our throat
If we could but match it, with sincerity's tear
We might fashion a shield, and a mantle to wear
But if we cling to the cloak of the silk that's been woven
By the dance of the golden hooves of the cloven
We'll be trampled under, that stampede of lies
In the gathering storm, as it darkens the skies
It won't echo and thunder, as our epitaph
But a death knell our legend, as history laughs
At the folly of thinking, "We're better than that."
Swept into the dustpan, or under the mat
Placed at the bottom, of a yellowing page
In some forgotten tome... of enlightenment's age
(Immediately after being found "guilty"
of denying that the earth was stationary
and the sun orbited around it, Galileo
said, "Eppur si muove!" [But it moves!])
It's hard to live in Lilliput, I find.
I have to cross my fingers, play their game.
Their billing, filling, drilling daily grind
sits ill with me. They all trot out the same
tired cliches. Passing a painting, never fail
to comment on the squareness of the frame.
Unprofitable, weary, flat and stale.
You can't earn prizes here. These fools prize earning.
No sweets to eat. It's one long dreary tale
of condemnation, disapproval, spurning.
The Sunday supplements determine taste,
all tearing down, forbidding, banning, burning.
They're sealed in heavy metal, concrete-cased
austerity. They put the "die" in "diet".
What will survive of them is nuclear waste.
Denounce, detract, dismiss it and deny it.
Don't look for clover - look for cloven hooves.
Excoriate it, flay it, vilify it.
They'd love to let life lurch along in grooves,
the gauche, perverse, unruly human mind
trapped tidily in aspic. But it moves.
A bold faced cad of human form
Flesh and blood but not the norm
Retraced his steps through the wood
Careless fashion unparalleled as good
Yet the cliff came ending his trail
Of scattered footprints to no avail
Some were cloven others not
Armed with a net as I was taught
Climbed a tree of scruffy pine
Darkness ensued where sun did shine
A scream came from out of the blue
Chills ran up my spine as if held by glue
Creepy crawler my escaped human quest
Smelled so foul I do not jest
Of sweat and blood and maybe pee
Sweltering in the moonlight he saw me
Escape uncertain no wings had I
A sacrificial lamb in his ungodly eye
Of flesh and blood and simply bones
He devoured me except my clothes
strongest cloven fiend
a face adored by Venus
beautiful bestial body
so loved by God in Genesis
take the crimson string
tied upon his velvety hide
red thread cuts the skin
ankles bound for the ride
hoisted on the mantle
an all engulfing spiral
upon pearlescent horns
blackish fur of desire
dark red heart
beating at his side
a full blooded kiss
could never be denied
awkward always alone Allie
bragged boastfully to baby Bertie Bill
clearly clarifying club-footed cloven Callie
deliberately deciphering dairy dung in Dickie Dill
easing eager Edgar’s electrifying entry
forever forsaking flim-flam’s frequent flam
greasing gray grannie’s gentle gentry
hardily helping herself to Harry’s hottish ham
In shadows deep, where darkness weaves its thread,
Sin's whispered lure, a path where mortals tread.
Temptation's fruit, a taste of what's denied,
It's here that Satan's cunning plans reside.
With cloven hooves and fiery eyes ablaze,
The fallen one, in wicked ways, conveys,
Deception's art, the master of the lie,
As Sin and Satan dance beneath the sky.
But Death, a specter cold, an endless night,
It waits for souls, extinguishing the light.
A consequence of choices, paths we choose,
In the cycle, Sin and Death, they're bound to fuse.
For Sin, the spark that sets temptation's fire,
Leads mortals down a treacherous desire.
In Satan's web, they find themselves entwined,
As Death awaits, its victory defined.
Yet in this tale of darkness, do not despair,
For hope can rise, dispelling all despair.
Redemption's light can break Sin's binding chain,
And from this trio's grasp, one can attain.
In life's grand tapestry of joy and strife,
We find the strength to face this endless strife.
For Sin, Satan, Death, they may persist,
But love and faith, in our hearts, exist.
To be able to admit when your wrong
Can only make a love grow strong
To be able to give your heart unlatched
With no strings attached
Will make a love complete
Caring, sharing with a laugh
(It was good to hear you laugh)
Love doesn't blame
It doesn't play those foolish games
It's the nectar, the ambrosia
It burns the cloven flames
It bares what God gives of Himself
He has a Name above all names
Is it a crime to want to seek Paradise
The pursuit of happiness in this life?
Grab hold of some fantasy and run
To a place where two hearts become one
Make some time and find that special place
Living Coram Deo, before God's face
It's not hate here, that leaves scars
It's meadows, clouds, rainbows and guitars
It's angels, stars and choirs but not a devil's grin
It's you and I, it's velvet
Just feel the softness against your skin
Vs1
If all the stars
from the firmament fell
If the moon were to float away
on the sea
And if the sun
was taken away as well
Don't be afraid …
… the light of God
still shines on Thee!
Chorus
The light of God
still shines bright today
Bright as before
time had begun
Creation done
in just seven days
And He was the Light
In every one
Yes, God's light shone before the sun
Vs2
So take all the stars,
the sun and the moon
Although I'd miss
the beauty they bring
The darkness will
never ever win through
The Light drives it out,
in Jesus's name!
Chorus *repeat*
Vs3
God was there
on holy ground
He spoke to Moses
through the bush aflame
The cloven tongue of fire,
and Spirit came down
Giving us His light to cast out
darkness, fear, and shame!
Chorus*repeat
Broken
Cloven
Hidden
Within
Covert
Revert
Surveyed
Journeyed
Sojourned
Missioned
Wrestle
Vessel
Tempest
Life’s test
Good night
Last fight
March 13, 2023.
Your bare bottom pounds as you glide
across the cloven countryside,
tresses lifting, buoyant breasts,
your stallion savages his breaths.
Pressing knees, you turn him wide,
Pull up below the rivers bridge.
You let him drink low and long
You sing to him a wild song
You lie on moss to bid him see
your treasure space once meant for me.
Withers shining, smoothed by sweat
perfumed where your bodies met,
he throws his head then steps away.
You think of something cruel to say
though not of him, your muscled pet
but of me, below the rivers bridge.
You step to him as if on air
You touch him with a lover’s care
You climb again, pull tight the reins
Then release your grip to run again.
As I write my brain whispers
wicked words of doubt
soft as a newborn’s sleepy sigh
the babbling of a bubbling brook
before it suddenly begins to shout
screeching like the ear piercing
feedback from stereo speakers
shrieking shrilly as a hot teapot
booming low as a bass drum
beating in a repetitive rhythm
while horned demons with their
cloven hooves dance madly
amid the cacophony of chaos
chanting a malevolent mantra
of loathing and discontent
wielding daggers of diffidence
they drive deep into my confidence
blood dripping from the blades
the silence of those outside myself
nodding apathetic assent
From toothed alps to McKenzie High Country
to hardwood alpine forest and fernland,
there rises the jewel Aoraki
out of the jagged ice age peaks so grand.
And polar winds at its rock face below
chill Lake Te Anau’s willow and bluegum,
where the frozen wild lowland tussocks grow
and rainbow river trout and salmon run.
Behold plains and valleys when spring has shone,
hear the cloven hooves scatter asunder,
climb Arthur’s Pass to Milford Track and yon
to glacier and fiord and rolling tundra.
Stretched from Cloudy Bay to Bluff on the sea
thunders the sky father, Ranginui.
Written: April 1996
Red-skinned with horns, a tail, and cloven feet -
Hellboy, oh Hellboy, you’re really not bad.
Evil in the world you help to defeat.
Hellboy, oh Hellboy, you’re really not bad.
Your humor’s great and I think you are neat.
Tragic that you lost your adopted dad.
Red-skinned with horns, a tail and cloven feet -
Hellboy, oh Hellboy, you’re really not bad.
Jan. 30, 2022
For the Mignolaverse Poetry Contest of Robert James Liguori
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