Long Chaste Poems
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Before my fallen wings I plead
Let me carry out this deed
Find a love in desperate need
Of a white knight on a steed
I already have a girl in mind
Are souls have met forever bind
Lost in chaos, torn in time
She is my melody for this rhyme
If you let me lover her now
I'll go into the lights shroud
Commiting no unspoken vows
Salvaging a princess leaving proud
In her unrest she might die
I feel compelled to save a life
There is no reason or a why
She can't be happy as a wife
A guarding angel I am to her
Send me to your beautiful earth
To enter a chance for rebirth
I am the remedy for this curse
I am speaking to the grim reaper
I need a miracle before I sleep sir
Letting you chase me creeper
Into the darkness ever deeper
Permit me to adjust my sails
Select a crew that never fails
Live through all the grails
Have a romance found in fairy tales
(her)He must be big and strong
Massive shoulders to carry on
The work that's hard and long
To keep me safe and right the wrong
I am sad to be like this
Crying moping and drawing a fist
To the sky, screaming a list
Of my problems little priss
Out of the shadows he came
Bearing white, massive the same
Hushing me to comfort and explain
His business here, also his name
(Angel)My name is Micheal a worrior man
Here to change your coarse of plan
Bestow upon you an awakening fan
That keeps alive with a tan
Escape with me out of this place
Hurry, run, lets make haste
You'll remain dignified and chaste
Where no one can hurt your darling face
We could live somewhere exotic
Live the dream with love erotic
Just be us, excluding the chaotic
To decline is said to be idiotic
Grab an extra shirt and pants
We'll leave right now, expose this chance
To take hold of something with a glance
Of humanity with a slight reminisce
(girl)Alright, we can go
Somewhere warm minus the snow
Sleeping by the fires glow
Seeing more than we know
Somewhere I can where a dress
Running wild without the stress
Enjoy having emotional sex
With a man big in the chest!
(Micheal)You have made the right choice
I admire your sweet tone of voice
The way you walk and your poise
This is our moment relax, rejoice!
To this day I do enclose
A vacation that I propose
You could wear little clothes
Pushing away all your foes.
Crushing and deystroying all your demons!
June 3 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Psalms 68-70
Key Verse – Psalm 68:5 A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY FATHER ALMIGHTY
Lord God, You are my Father Almighty,
surely arising to carry me to Your presence
Thank You for Your salvation that makes me rejoice with gladness’ essence…
Seeking Your will, I dwell in Your holy habitation’s iridescence
Set me always in Your goodness to overcome solitary gloom-license.
Lord God, You are my Father Almighty,
securely establishing me by Your perfection
Thank You for Your stability that guards me from foolish instruction…
Standing upon Your grace, I praise You for Your benefits’ provision
Seal me always with Your mercies, beyond depths of my transgression.
Lord God, You are my Father Almighty,
steadfastly leading me to Your sanctuary
Thank You for Your sacrifice that causes me to follow You toward victory…
Submitting to Your wisdom, I come to Your enclosing hands of glory
Strengthen me always by Your power midst my worry because of sin-misery.
Lord God, You are my Father Almighty,
sweetly comforting me in my weariness
Thank You for Your satisfaction that confounds me of my haughtiness…
Stepping in Your light, I abide in Your righteous zealousness
Sanctify me always along Your cleansing pardon toward my holiness.
Lord God, You are my Father Almighty,
sincerely hearing me and my prayer’s plight
Thank You for Your shield that encloses me within Your deliverance-delight…
Singing for Your honour, I exalt You for Your help in my distress-blight
Stir me always midst Your gentleness as from sorrow, I take my flight.
Lord God, You are my Father Almighty,
straightly humbling me of my arrogance
Thank You for Your specialty in miracles gripping me with divine elegance…
Shining with Your radiance, I claim Your granted eternal inheritance
Sustain me always with Your supplies along stewardship-assurance.
Lord God, You are my Father Almighty,
speedily rescuing me in Your timely haste
Thank You for Your servanthood example that prods me for works so chaste…
Staying in Your plan, I overcome worldliness’ tempting vanity waste
Support me always in my quest to savor Your of heavenly taste.
It is very impressive to go westward
in an early morning of midwinter,
because you will see a full moon
that you have forgotten for a while
in the middle of the western sky.
[The westward moon is, perhaps,
the one that Li T’ai-Po
who was bewitched by
and delighted by a moon so much
chanted poems in praise of the moon
throughout his life,
after breaking a thick frozen ice on the lake,
scooped an August full moon
that is not sunken but still floating
on the surface of water,
and pasted it to the wintry sky.]
Although the air in my car is still cold as ice,
and roadside snow is being melted from salt spray
and messy, covered with splashes of dirty water,
the moon, like a virgin still chaste,
[By manmade machine and men,
the moon, though, lost her virginity long ago,]
looks immaculate and gorgeous as ever.
For the moon
riding high in the western sky
enjoying the honor and admiration that is entitled
only to virgin girls
though she lost it long ago,
the north wind,
because of her envy toward the moon,
was wandering in the frozen waste
pleasure driving a sheer-white chariot
brings a violent snowstorm,
and heartlessly shakes the moon
that barely hangs on the midwinter’s western sky
to fall.
After so much abuse,
kicks, stamps, smacks, and blows of violent wind
that of more than she can bear
the frightened moon flees to south, then to east
with her paled and waning face,
and finally disappears somewhere
where no one will able to find her.
Total darkness covers the earth,
overwhelms to deny everything.
At the edge of this darkness
a somewhat eerie looking hunchbacked creature
[Although he was much intelligent,
yet tenderhearted, a man more sensitive
than the worldly-minded ordinary persons,]
comes and searches for the disappeared moon,
and when he finds
a segment of a shattered piece of moon on the earth,
he embraces it in his bosom with tears of joy,
and falls to the ground with his last breath.
And as a hunchback perishes
a young man with more holes
than the shattered pieces of fallen moon in his rungs,
who always whispered sadly to the waning moon
while leaning against a southward window frame,
comes and carries the hunchback’s remains hurriedly
in the cart to an eastern gateway, with gasping,
to the place where the full moon dwells, with panting.
I might seem cold and beyond your
reach
Far from your love
Distant and aloof
Guarded by walls
To strong to shatter
Stubborn and contained
No deeper you may go, no further
can you prevail
A sinister shadow
My mind paints
Of love, and sweet nothings
All irrational, all fake
The wall remains
Permitting no breach
Not even a crack, no rift will it
create
But beyond the darkness
Beyond the unwilling guide
You seem to have lit a spark
Immaculate a warmth, subtle,a fire
Gently you urge, lovingly, towards
the light
That’s breaking these walls
Making me fear, less, love’s sight
With time, I can see
A change in the winds
Stony winters depart
Loving spring, you bring, to help me
live
A warmness, to cherish, as it thaws
all my fears
Frees my inhibitions
Drowns out my every tear
Every other, a trial, so bitter and
unclean
Building hatred and resentment
Bringing heart wrenching sobs and
gut wrenching screams
Your love, however, like silk,
delicately she plays
Adoring, never ceasing, not passive,
nor grave
No fretting, agonizing, deeply
rooted, so chaste
No fear of disappearance,
Like the glamorous crystals of rain.
Each morning, I wake
To feel your love so great,
To mingle and meddle
And hold your embrace
To tease, and love, to forgive and
forget
Of jealously and protectiveness
Of comfort, day and night and all
that’s within.
Tête-à-têtes, aplenty.Sweet
nothings, galore
Imploring and yearning, the
distance to explode
Bashfully timid, those kisses that
burn
Soft whispers, fond gazing, with
butterflies and curling toes
Of sweethearts, darling dearests,
Of endearments, and flowers
A love so ardent, so sanely insane.
Meaningful, not empty, your words
will remain
For love, that you give
Romantic, yes, but not plain
Each moment with you, my love it
shall grow
For seconds and minutes, I calculate
no more
Complete and new, not hollow and
cold
My dearest I shall love you, not
leave you forever more
Steady, firm, not cowardly, this love
was born
Intense, she blossoms, intent, never
flawed
For life, it seems, to have found my
paramour
To live and be with
To marry and grow old
So know this my dearest
My love shall remain
With endless mingling, our souls,
forever infinitely. Beyond all. Shall
prevail
Form:
In an old vineyard
When Jesus was just a lamb
His coat eight years old
Working with the chaste Joseph
His father and guide
As the beloved Mary
Kneeled and prayed to God
In their small and humble home
A visitor came
Golden and shining brightly
Like beams of sunlight
Shooting through the home’s window
Shooting from heaven
Shooting down from the clear heights
Mary beheld him
Thinking he was her young son
Putting off his coat
With gentleness the child said
“Where is dear Jesus
My dear brother and brave twin
I want to meet him”
Mary never responded
In fearful blindness
Thinking he was a phantom
From the lightless depths
Rather than light from the heights
She seized his right arm
And tied his arm to the foot
Of the worn, torn bed
Not wishing to scare her more
He remained at peace
Not saying a single word
During this event
Jesus held an empty branch
Observing the wood
As if it were a mirror
Soon he heard Mary
Jabbering in confusion
With tears raining down
In this dim storm of wailing
Jesus heard the words
Breaking through the whirling clouds
“A phantom has come
Dressed in golden apparel
Dressed in bright lightning
Saying “Where is dear Jesus
My twin and brother
I desire to see him”
Joseph please help me”
Only Jesus saw the light
And heard the thunder
For he had wise eyes to see
And had ears to hear
He proclaimed with holy strength
“Mother, where is he
So that I may see the light
Or should I wait here
Waiting for the bright sunlight
To break through this storm”
Jesus said these words in joy
Joseph was startled
Mary wiped away her tears
They entered the house
And found the spirit at peace
Still bound to the bed
Both the parents looked at him
Then looked at Jesus
And found them to be the same
Mary walked further
And unloosed the child angel
He bowed to Mary
He and Jesus said no words
For they were brothers
They hugged with their gentle arms
Gave a holy kiss
The angel child disappeared
For he and Jesus
Became one white pearl of light
Thus the empty branch
Bloomed with delicious almonds
Bloomed with holy life
Thus this town was sanctified
Crowned with golden, shining grace
Poem based on the account from the ancient apocryphal book The Pistis Sophia, Chapter 61.
From birth to death, each of us walks alone,
in as a narrative we wish to feel,
thus as we embrace, release and atone,
we rely on God’s love and light to heal.
In a subject-object relationship,
we believe ourself to be feeble form
and engaged in games of one-upmanship,
earth life for most part, is a turbid storm.
We know not who we are and yet live on,
in pursuit of ephemeral desires
and so it continues, both praise and scorn,
until the day our exhausted heart tires.
Shifting horizons now hold no appeal,
somewhat diminished is our zest and zeal.
Somewhat diminished is our zest and zeal,
discovering our efforts were in vain,
upon which in altar of God we kneel,
praying love and light glows in heart again.
Recognising that we script not our fate,
shifting into silence, we become still,
making our heart once more, childlike and chaste,
that by grace divine, voids within may fill.
Having thus relinquished our thought flow crutch,
we surrender, melding head with our heart,
ingraining direct wisdom by soul’s touch,
mindfully choosing to add love to cart.
Emptiness then, is the way to begin;
cave of heart’s open, so we go therein.
Cave of heart’s open, so we go therein,
remaining aware with nary a care,
whereupon we feel magnetism plug-in,
cajoling our polarities to pair.
As a receptor, there’s nothing we do,
for to be truthful, there is no road map
and each nuance felt is pristine and new,
drawing us to God by closing the gap.
We shout from the rooftops but no one hears,
unable to comprehend the bliss flame,
held in benign currents, God Himself steers,
revealing deep wisdom that has no name.
In a realm dual, in bondage to mind,
we know not the truth, because we are blind.
We know not the truth, because we are blind
but now having seen, with our inner eye,
we cognise God is wise, loving and kind,
known if we agree to let ego die.
We cling to identity, which is not,
in as it is merely a thought construct
but on shifting to heart, as we all ought,
our false self dies, we see it self-destruct.
It is clear that although monks wish to share,
the wisdom sublime, they have so imbibed,
those who refuse to see, just cannot pair,
enslave by ego, which has always lied.
Harvest of grace is reaped, as of seeds sown;
from birth to death, each of us walks alone.
You have raided my night again,
as the burst of a sudden storm,
sneaking into my loneliness,
at the most unexpected hour,
plunging me into swirls of pain
too deep for expression,
leaving me in utter disorientation.
I now drift aimless with muddled thoughts,
through the dingy avenues of the past,
never once able to sever the chord,
that binds me so tight to those memoirs,
exposing me to torrid heat
with my soul, burning down….
like a piece of smouldering coal.
Sleepless are my nights.
Dreamless are my days.
Like the sundown shadows growing bigger,
with every stride I take,
the farther I move, the closer you follow.
Can I convince you ever again,
I never meant any harm to you.
How wearily have I watched the flies,
lured by the dazzling light,
char into diminutive specks of black,
by the scorching tongues of flame.
Still, why did I let you burn,
in the flame of my accursed passion?
You were like a flower admired from afar,
afraid of even the gentle breeze coming near,
lest it might jolt the delicate frame,
and shake the petals down, sooner than due.
Yet vulnerable turned the moment,
when all of a sudden, it started to rain.
Like a child, eager to play in the puddles,
you ran out into the pouring rain.
All soaked through and through,
You came in…. awhile my gaze,
rested on the filmy fabric,
seductively clinging to your curves.
Then, that wild surge…. beat me down.
And Alas! Under a magnetic pull,
surrendered your fragile self with ease.
At that moment of self-abandonment
looted off all that you held chaste.
Never surmised, you were crying,
when I felt your cheeks, so wet.
Now I know, it was agony,
not ecstasy that I, then, beheld on your sentient face!
You refused to respond to my calls.
Unanswered went all my anxious queries.
Like a hibernating toad,
to some dark underground cave, you slid.
Abruptly, alerted on call,
by an alien sound, far from familiar
I hastened to the casualty ward,
and saw you lying limp,
with drops of blood, still dripping down
from your slashed wrist,
staring at me with an open mouth!
As I watched you lying still
with your eyes refusing to flutter,
I knew my world tottering below,
and my heart, set ablaze,
into a funeral pyre.
I still have that dream of us
on what would be my last day in Uruguay
sitting on a low stone wall
overlooking the vast sea
while the sun is chased away behind us
and the wind gently brushes the hair from your shoulder
to tease at my arm.
Between us is a slice of cake; Chajá, like promised
picked up while strolling Montevideo
the real tour being your form in three dimensions
a whisper of peach still on both of our tongues
still secretly wondering if it would taste any differently
if stolen off of lips instead.
Conversation scarce and unneeded
lulled in favor of kicking legs and staring out at birds
as they glide from blue and into orange and magenta blooms
all the while hyper aware
of how charged your long, lithe fingers seem
and how mine, coarse and calloused, are busy supporting my weight
as I lean back with my shoulders
and itch to crawl them closer.
Just the wind carrying unspoken wishes
in a moment so serene and encapsulated
in the lives of youths coming together in ebbs and flows
light crashes of waves
against a smooth stone wall.
"Can I kiss you?"
not knowing how but moving forward
brushing brows and cheeks with the pads of a thumb
and landing on a chin to hold
so that a featherlight brush might be delivered
with the proper mix of shy yet the most bold they've ever been.
And peach does taste especially sweet
when bitten off juicy lips.
As how salty air becomes a balm
when breathed fresh between two pairs of lungs
Though time is short and shy and chaste
this moment lingers like a false memory in a bottle
thrown from the wall to be lost at sea
a message to the future when this may be realized
and held precious like a gem and not fragile glass.
I don't want to taint this beautiful delusion
with the reality that is far too unkind
But now if I visit I fear we would both be ghosts
me, an intrusion
a foreigner retracing the steps of a familiar stranger
mourning the echoes of memories
resenting the setting sun behind the low stone wall
and the parting gift of an overdue first kiss
stolen not by the warm summer wind
nor even the strains of money nor pains of distance
nor "best laid plans"
but by something as simple and foolish
as wanting too much
the wrong kind of slip of the tongue.
First draft
I
By his deeds he was duly judged
And by his greed he was condemned
To the bowels far beneath the Earth-
Cursed tenfold to rot and feed the maggots unfed.
Stark Kilns was his doomed name
A man who burnt with hideous flame-
A name to forever tumble to oblivion
With its proprietor’s ruins and vision.
Not a soul wept
Not a tear on cheeks crept.
Not a soul attended the funeral
Save Kilns’ only overdue Aunt Feen-
A shrunken lady of a hundred and fifteen.
There petched on the solitary scaffold
Was the casket, a sad but terrible thing to behold-
For every inch of it gleamed of black-
A thing that still makes me tremble as a feeble stag.
The old priest by dogma read the eulogy
And alas! The casket was lowered
To the bowels of the cemetery
As the Sun hid its pale face
Beneath the horizon.
Thinking that this had brought the end
I turned away from my hiding behind the fern
But my attention became arrested
By a hollow sound, as if a drum had dropped.
There, the very black casket had reached
The base of the grave harder than intended.
Or perhaps the undertakers were in haste
For I had noticed them on edge and none chaste.
Then the undertakers fell to filling
And cursing that grave which today
Is marked by nothing but a pale olive tree
On which every evening perches a mute owl.
For ten years, that olive tree has never a fruit borne:
For ten solid years the owl has had itself sworn
To keep guard on that tree, that hideous tree
And Wait for its doomed master, I presume.
It had braved through like the very true son
Who had lost to the claws of cold death
The best dad in the world. So it had braved
Through the rain and cold that had plagued most days
How the town stirred upon becoming sentient
Of the cold guest at Kilns’ resting place.
Nothing but the owl was on the people’s menu
Many a townsfolk went to see for themselves
How the owl stared back with so much nonchalance
How the creature just glared back, its huge eyes inert.
The townsfolk upon leaving would but mutter:
“A ***** creature! I never trusted Kiln’s death.”
It came that these very townsfolk then sat
And secretly planned to bring to its death
This inert guest upon Kilns’ grave.
II
My heart races touching your deep Spirit's kiss,
The softness of your voice soothes my abyss.
My tear's curb crumbles greening my shrink cry.
My soul torn apart wondering to know why.
Wrong thoughts, so cruel wait the fear to tape
The terrors of love to give them a new shape.
And my loneliness is a shadowy yard
When to sink my reality it's so hard.
In murky ponds of suffocating tadpole
I jag my edges tearing my sad soul,
Which once is tied with bleeding strips to yours
Will twist my fate with the flick of my gray hours.
I wait my hope which will never come to be.
This hope hunger squeezes tighter my soul's knee.
I'm clinging to the past where I want to hide
That part of me that is still alive inside.
While I wait the ocean waves to wash my soul
Big storms can rise up from the horns of your hole.
Much more confused on how to think or feel,
I talk, I dream and I am your balance wheel.
I can live with death while love is a wasteland
When the end comes around against my soul's gland
As showy as the white chalk on a blackboard
And I could lose my way but I pray to Lord.
I wonder if I will feel your love again
Even I accept my resignation's chain
Like an inner sorrow coming on my lip,
Like a song of my flute for my ocean's sleep,
Like a fire fathom scratching my blue rain,
Like a wish to taste you when I strive in vain,
Like a deep taste you place on my rudest wish,
Or like the wish you place on my thinking swish.
Floating are your words rain for my misty cloud,
You can still hang out with my feelings crowd.
When I'm dressed in white masking a selfless gray,
I have my honest smile and nothing to say.
Crops from your soul break the reason of my thought
And break my soul because I love you a lot.
Your body's heat cannot hit my soul's weeps
'Cause my pure thoughts are crowned with white wisps.
You defy my body's weep because it's chaste
And I don't understand what you need to taste.
I'm tired of you, I live with divine things.
I may see your sorrow is rose with black wings.
With your betrayal my love is wont to flow
And I know that your feelings will never glow.
MCN: C3RC5-ESU38-Y6SY8
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