The Domed Teapot Movie Team stores
good running electrical engineering supplies for
the apprentice vape tester stationed
for training with other code guy
system connectors near the
erectifying rainbow falls of
Mr. Mojo's Old City
WHEREAS(S)
the Eccentric Frontier Goldmine Foundation State has
discovered a recent reference model indicating that
the Eclectic Ghoul Aid Company has failed the
combined skating/scooter/car/bike and
forest river vehicle acid test (though they
did oddly OVER_perform with
dirty toothbrushes while on
motorcycles)
ALL OF WITCH LEAVES US WITH
an Elected Peach Boutique Box Collection of
shadow games and chic cottage band
energies perfectly suited to the
Enneagram Test Cook's home decor
NUT TO MENTION (MUNCH ON?)
the elliptically concentric doctor of the
Goon Power Kingdom where
mad duke predicament bosses are
obsessed with my contraption wheel
drop way of UNDER_thinking the
biased fallacy of self-data camera
set collectors viewing the erect or
oral bored college process that
involves repairing old farts for
recyling at flea markets.
When luck and fortune flee from my own soul,
and then disaster overwhelms my hope,
and hunger consumes the meal in my bowl,
and poverty and debt hinder my scope,
then I wish myself more rich in spirit,
in wisdom and character more complete,
with God's forgiveness now to inherit,
and grace in place of ruin and defeat.
But I reflect on our time spent together,
that spring we made love under a domed sky
(those happy days seemed to live on forever).
Despair now gone, I sing and let joy fly.
As you now live on in my sonnet's measure,
may all men find in you time's endless treasure.
Lady in repose
drifting to horizons
pink and psychedelic
where dream dimensions
uncoil like ribbons
vibrant rainbow iridescence
circling moon spotlight
hidden fairy places
angel spun filigree
festooning domed citadels
of fantasy tales.
Anything, flower or face
Glass-domed, or that behind
If as icon, mired;
Or what of it, Beauty, book-kept
If as tale inspired
Once focused on, is brought to light
This core, divine, in us;
Longingly pulsates.
Thenceforth nothing but Heaven's
Aspiring to sates.
Sometimes it happens
when you least expect it,
like the moment when the burden
of yourself finds rest beneath
the vast canopy of a River Red Gum
stretched across your path
and there is a sudden clarity
lensed through the cathedral like
quiet housed inside
its domed height.
Its enormous trunk
and gnarled limbs carry centuries
of history written in scars.
You carry your own concealed
under the weathered exterior
of human years. Something
finds communion here,
life linking in an almost shared
awareness, discovering ground
on which all things have purpose
and move through time
being bruised by suffering,
slowly perfecting the power
to see beyond the reaches
of the self, into that place
where all perspectives meet
and join, in the vanishing point
of the mind.
crystal cave in Springfield Missouri
full of underground rooms and a jail
ghost room where spirits whisper and scurry
enormous concert hall, hearty and hale
Rainbow Falls and witches bathtub too
domed ceiling chimes room which can sing
helicite room with walls shadowing blue
excited tourists many busses bring
What secrets of the Muse's rhyme,
skirt on the edge of our perception?
What fate can be known by metric time,
or prophecy by taut inspection?
The path she offers invites echoes,
of lives half-lived and dreams half-dreamt,
of pasts that form our tomorrows,
that few aspire beyond attempt.
Parnassus chooses whom so it will.
To the fated, it shares its mysteries,
but one must choose its bitter pill,
to resolve the trajectories.
The obscure rhythms of the poet's soul,
splashed against a domed, cryptic sky,
fulfill a cosmic, unique role,
that only seers behold with an inward eye.
The distant cold hum
of a refrigerated embryology.
Morning eggs arrayed
in their cartons,
domed power-plants
in laboratory-white.
I crack a shell open,
by cautious habit
check for any telltale spindrift of red,
a sign of incipient life
or the Sunnyside-up face of death.
Blue
Cotton
Wings dusting
The domed ceilings
Forgotten records in halls of the dead
Step into splintered sunlight
broken beams flash
across bare, silhouetted flesh.
Above
Father-Sun forever scintillates,
a deep and ancient ember,
giving ceaselessly to all
wanting nothing in return.
The trees, they dance
in verdant splendor,
leaning lazily, they sigh
with utter contentment.
Their leaves, a chorus
of flapping green,
each one moving to its own rhythm,
closely listening to the wind sing.
White stars illuminate my eyes
and echo through my soul.
Vibrations shudder down my spine,
utterly with rapture so
cosmic and cyclopean,
spinning through the wheel-vortex
of my open amethyst crown.
And with sweet natural bliss, at last,
under holy bodhi tree of life --
copper-domed and ancient,
grown hoary and sere
through countless millennia --
my buddha-mind will yet arise,
through the heavens,
past the skies,
and slowly gaze
with wisdom eyes
upon the all-expansive Whole.
This worldly plane is just a school,
a dream where all is mind.
Be present, aware, and most of all,
compassionate and kind.
For everything in this world is one,
the Universe is inside us.
If pure of heart, we seek our truth,
the Universe shall guide us
Entering a rustic, glass-domed greenhouse,
I stepped into a timeless seclusion.
Silence muted the scuttle of a mouse,
living in this synthetic illusion.
Within a succulent juggle of green,
sweet scents emanate from every blossom.
One of the prettiest places I've been:
sensual, and visually awesome.
I explored that tropical paradise;
enthralled by the plants and exotic theme.
I knew a one-time visit wouldn't suffice:
my senses were swirling, like in a dream.
This green getaway from strife and trouble:
was a pleasant respite from life's regrets.
My fantasy garden in a bubble:
as far from reality as it gets.
Until Winter leaves, Spring can't show Her face:
of the permanence of Spring; there's no trace.
We will be in June before you know it:
Spring is teasing, not willing to commit.
Another miserable afternoon:
before you know it, we will be in June.
The majestic weeping willow that grew in grandmother's backyard, was our secret place to drink tea, read books, and play cards.The bowing branches, so like a gentleman offering his hand, opened magically into this domed fairyland. Graciously accepting the invitation, we would climb... to hear the lazy buzzing bees and lose all sense of time. Hidden away, a sacred court between friends,I know I'll never feel as safe again.
a tomb
you say
domed
and grand
and cherubin
temerity
a mass grave
of all of us
but
who still
creeps around
upstairs
That was the time of my life when my search turned stern,
Like a thirsty beast, for streams of truth, I did yearn;
In search of saints and sages, I wandered and roamed,
Queries, like dark clouds of monsoon days, on me domed...!
Here it is, they said, Oh, no, it is over there,
Like an insane, I searched for treasures everywhere;
False philosophies and theologies called me,
Though ran after each I could not find myself free...!
Indian philosophy and western credo,
Divine doctrinaire or Freudian libido;
Science or medicine or poetry or art,
What had I not tried with sincerity of heart...?
It's then when, ultimately, when I went within,
With my goodness and meanness and virtue and sin;
Celestial scenes of existence I did behold,
As a grand finale, corpus-soul-core consoled...!!!
24 February 2023
Closer to fine Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Bejeweled, in and out of the Gothic architecture,
Conceived by Abbot Suger, through a constant conjecture;
With perfect glasswork etched out of the then-time silica,
Found its place In Saint-Denis Cathedral Basilica...!
Modestly outsized splash-smeared gorgeous goblet casements,
Renaissance classic styled stone accent wall sacred basements;
Prettily pointed piercing cumulative curly curves,
Rib vaults great and small intertwining like the war of nerves...!
Soaring airborne ramparts; metaphysical adornments;
Perpendicular proportions; lopsided floral fronts;
Steady solemn designs that flounce upward in height and grace;
Domed arched ceilings that charms of times, ages, and eras embrace...!
With no shrinks and wrinkles like the perfection of pure youth,
Enticing grand elegance like the fullness of the truth;
Tracery is a treasury of architectural forms,
Within which dwell, fine ethereal elemental norms...!!!
26 January 2023
TRACERY Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
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