Cruor Poems | Examples


List of Member Poems

The Hostile Whorls

I 

king of the hostile quasar ! 
stelliferous beast without origin 

anechoic void-crown usurper of the throne without end 
upon a tundra in the cosmic septentrional : 
fantastically obscure to the naked human eye 
and shrouded in the asterism of shadows ! 

gatekeepers of the GN-z11 realm, 
amethyst-fanged beasts of the farthest space 
pursuing from beyond the ultimate meridian 
to battle the flame-born basilisks of Alpha Scorpii

the star-beasts battle in constellatory theatre,
a timeless outing of the yet another 
anniversary cosmic implosion

        II 

hostile whorls in the night-sky
spin into mass hypnotic effect

cruor of celestial bodies splatter
alizarin spasms across the death-black vista 
which emanates across the heliosphere
as hallucination becomes reality becomes hallucination

   lines between 
   cosmophobia  and cosmonoia 
   are blurred

mystical systems of glyphic code
etched into bedrocks as star-maps 
guide the madman into liminal states 
between this and the great obscure other

Quest

Quest

For years long I espoused the bedlam in my beneath 
I quest the solitary 
The more close I endured; the arouse of ignition was more
This is an unacquainted fervour
I never encountered; neither I will surrender 
I owe it to my breathe, my flesh and my wisdom 
And I had no grip to iniquities and itches 
Like how sand slips from hand

The bedlam denned in myself 
If the warmth of love quest the path
Render my longevous throes and miseries 
If the incessant gaze of lover quest the pearl 
Pierce my heart and reign 
If the bravery of combatant quest the combat
History chisel my fearlessness cruor

Is it the hurricane or the tremor; it is uncharted to me
And the tempest in my core,
It does keep bellowing 
I don't the know the word 
I am not adept in scripting it either 
I must apologize for disturbing and disbalancing my vehemence 
And awakening the equilibrium 
Endowing justice to my robust turmoil 
Whether it is a bedlam or a quest...

A Note

And if I come
I'll bring the dew
Blended with  cruor
Of our veins

And if I reach your hand
I’ll become the tugboat
Of dignity and pride
Preserved with countless lives

Then... If I fall
I'll be the victor (anyway)
By sacrifice of blood
I'll bring the Happy Easter

To those 
Beneath the coat
Of diminishing faith  
a note 

against the rhapsody of hate


PORTLAOISE,
17/02/2016


Pain

Exquisite pain
Outlive those tears
Pictures in rain
Black cruor smears

Dovey Annie

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