Long Crowning Poems
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I watched as the dark grew around his eyes.
He came through the window,
Stepping like a shadow.
He was the night, he was the ghost, he was the
Unaided fighter as he reached for my side.
And I so desperately wanted to caress his masked face.
His pace was noiseless and so attractive,
Yet death was nearer with every step,
I thought.
Still, I didn’t care if my life would have ended
That night, stolen by the elusive ninja…
I wanted him even closer.
He quickly searched the inside of his shozoku,
Only to reveal a deadly suriken.
Breathless, as he approached, I stood there,
Not wanting to disenchant from his spell.
With one blow, the suriken ripped
The shoulder of my nightgown.
Flowing red stained my pillow
And it felt so real.
Oh, how I wanted his knife at my throat,
Me, his target of the night,
And how I sighed when he drew
His katana.
With one lethal strike I would have
Plunged on the floor, choking for my last breath,
Yet he gently traced the contour of my
Trembling chin… trembling, but only for his touch.
My tears sparkled in the cold, hard steel
As I sensed his breath arising.
I only heard his samurai chuckle and with no warning
He hurled his sword back into the dark.
We both moaned in anxious passion
When he bore my hand into a painful
Wrist lock.
I did not care, I did not see, I did not feel anything aside
The dark-haired ninja over my hips.
Our mangled bodies mirrored in the shiny steel of his forgotten blade,
His chest crowning over mine,
His hands fondling in my hair, down to my aroused breasts.
Two naked bodies trapped in my jujitsu legs.
A ninja so dark, so passionate, so fast,
He gently pulled aside my hidden Sai from under the cushion.
He kissed my breasts, my wrists, my hair,
My lips…
My shoulder, he patched with his soothing mouth.
We locked in kiss so quickly, his tongue
Bitter from my blood, snapping at my neck
And torso while he pushed inside me, deeper.
Invisible in the dark, he loved me
In endless ways, my fragile ninja rested
On the top of my chest.
I stroked his hair in content and silence,
Not even knowing his name.
A dark-haired ninja lay over my hips
When dawn came chewing at our lashes.
I then turned, not to see his figure,
Relying on my silent samurai
Of the dusk that I’ll go back to sleep
And he’ll go back to black.
© 2009 Stefania Carmen Misaila
I believe
our current overly competitive economy of competition,
our AnthroPrivileged environmental era
of critical climate disarray,
is a blip on the screen of Earth peace history
and autonomic neurosystemic polycultural health
A Win/Lose Zero-Sum Deviant aberration
now drawing to a rabid LoseAnthro/Lose Earth
polarizing close
because both WinEarth history
and WinEarthTribe culture
have been kinder to assertive Win-Win confluence
and unkind to dissonant Win-Lose diffidence
AnthroSupremacist
financial and
monopolistic partisan policy planning
to deplete the opposition,
competing within a short-changed
universe.
I believe
we are in our deepest loving
and beautiful bicameral beating hearts,
full-blooded DNA/RNA logosed/mythosed
bilaterally intelligent syntax
Bad Rad Bodhisattvas dancing
in root systemic circles
of Glad Mutual Messiahs singing
with and for and of and through
deep crowning co-infested
RNA-natural networked life/DNA-spirited systemic love
prime regeneratively in/exforming Earth
messianic tribes
and bodhisattva cells.
I believe we needed to invest
in this competition and deductive-scientific transitional
over-swing of Left-brained linguistic/deductive dominance,
reductive individuating consciousness,
to learn together
how to cooperate our ecological
root systemic
politically empowering dance
And why it is important
to communicate
and invest
and produce enlightened songs
and consume engaging voices
as a globally cooperative network
designed to protect
cherish sacred bodies
and re-polyculture segregated minds
win/win aspiring
to reconnect
Beloved Earth EcoSystemic ProGenitors.
I Believe
we have an internal good health/glad wealth
body/mind
nature/spirit
ego/eco cooperatively owned
and EarthTribe managed landscape
of unfolding Tao SpaceTime
composed of binomial prime function
with Zero-Centric meta-polymorphic
regenerative
crown/root bicameral
messiah/bodhisattva
enlightening/empowering
co-intelligence.
I believe
singing is what Anthros can say
with resonant performance wealth
AND
dancing is what EarthTribes can do
with resilient engaging health.
I believe
we are a Society of Unitarian Universalist Bodhisattva CoOperators
within EarthTribe's self-synergizing evolutionary agenda.
cold rain
to slow-streak the
glass I watch you through -
you and your
christ ...
the ginger bread man,
sugar daddy savior, all that
I was not, (and less) ...
choices of
compromise, to provide
the lifeblood of your
"needs" ...
you, admiring
your bullion reflection in a
shimmering bottle of Armand de Brignac,
smiling for your
'badder' half -
a manufactured laugh for
the fools about who
find your pout a
bit too pretentious,
conscientious that the
pear-shaped
D/flawless Winston that
tickles thy freckled
cleavage, speaks as loud as
the painted bows
above, my dear love,
(once) ...
now I'm
just a jester, the
crowning kid of skid row, and
you'll never know I
eyed your trim - spied you
with him, picking a
bone in the
bistro I used to own,
with Sir Steadfast, but
alone - so aptly
and achingly alone ...
extrovert of extroverts,
yet you're EVER
unattended ...
even 'friended' to the max,
'midst stacks of your
fairest fans,
(and man), your loneliness
strangles - dangled on a fraying
rope of hope ...
a wish that life holds
more than your
this ...
my station
now mended, I've
ended my peerless peering, time
for steering my Wal-Mart
cart to that
toxic box under the bridge,
the fridge that I
call home ...
I turn and push, warmed by the
squeak-squeak music
of the wheels,
makes me feel all warm
inside ... I chuckle
out loud when I think
of you and your scarecrow-on-
a-cross, all warm ...
inside ...
I spin my
buggy 'round, just
digging the sound, and the thought now
searing my marrow -
oh, such delight, the slings and arrows!
now I'm back outside your
restaurant, you and "he" are on
task - Baked Alaska
flaming sweetly,
so I neatly ball my fist
and ... SLAM!
BAM! CRASH!!
with a flash, (and the
wryest smile - not used in a while),
the glass is shattered,
as I'm Mad Hattered in my
lovely Goodwill coat and weeping
wrists - stormy
mists and sad patter of the
reddened rain ...
now, just a bloody stain upon
your pretty pair, (a bonus - my onus)
I don't look up to
meet your startled stares ...
but stoop to
pick a shard, and
pocket it with utmost care ...
at least
my chest thrums,
I muse - you ...
have not heart enough to
share this broken
window's
pain.
THEY SAID HE HAD A POOR ATTITUDE
HE WAS A SORE LOSER
A PERSON WHO TRAINED HARD
AND FOLLOWED COACHES INSTRUCTION
BUT WOULD SELDON TAKE DEFEAT IN STRIDE
HE WAS SEEN BY HIS FOOLOW COMRADS AS
A PERSON YOU WANT ON YOUR SIDE
BUT YOU DIDN'T WANT TO COMPETE DIRECTLY WITH HIM
BECAUSE HE LACKED A MORAL SENCE OF OBLIGATION
HE WHIND LIKE A BRAT.
HE'D CAUSE HIS PARTNERSHIPS TO LACK FOCUS
HE'D OFTEN BE SEEN WITH
FOES OF HIS FREINDS
CAUSING THEM TO NEVER REALLY TRUST HIM
HE LACKED A SENSE OF DIRECTION
AND WHEN THOSE WHO SAW COLLABORATIVE EFFORTS
WOULD BENEFIT BOTH
HE'D DO SOMETHING TO CAUSE VICTORY: BUT HE LACKED
THE STAY-IT-IST THAT TEAM WORK NEEDS
TO HAVE A COHESIVE GELLING.
WE CELEBRATED HIM AS BEST IN THE WORLD
THIS WAS DONE WHEN HE BECAME THE
FIVE TROPHY CHAMPION DEFEATING
A MAN WHO WAS SMARTER, TALLER, FASTER, MORE AGILE
AND SOME SAID MORE CUNNING.
HE SAW PAST HIS FAULTS AND DECIDED HE WAS THE BEST IN THE WORLD
AND ALL HE NEEDED TO DO WAS DEFEAT THE CHAMPION TO DO SO.
HE DID: SEVERAL PEOPLE WISHED HIM DEFEATED
THEY CONSORTED, PLOTTED, SCHEMED, AND EVEN CHALLENGED HIM
BUT ONE MAN SAID HE WAS EQUAL IN STANDINGS TO
THE MAN THE WORLD CALLED CHAMPION. a FELLA THAT REPRESENTED THREE COMPANIES AS CHAMPION, WON HIS SIXTH CHAMPIONSHIP FUSSING THE TITLES CREATING
A NEW NAME FOR HIS REPRESENTATION. SIX COMPANIES CALLED HIM CHAMPION,
HE REFUSE TO DEFEND THE BELTS SEPARATELY, AND HE
PUT IN HIS CONTRACT UNLESS HIS COMPANIES WOULD FULLY TRY ON NATIONAL TELEVISION TO SUPPORT HIS EFFORTS AS THE ONLY
AND TRUE COMBINED CHAMPION, HE WOULD FORFEIT THE TITLES CAUSING ALL SIX COMPANIES TO HAVE TO DEVELOP TOURNAMENTS.
WELL IT WORKED
SOMEONE SAW A PROFIT IN WHAT WAS HAPPENING
AND 11 COMPANIES CAN TOGETHER FOR ONE NIGHT IN COSTA RICO.
THEY CALLED THE EVENT
"NTAEUS'S CROWNING" THE MAIN EVENT WAS CALLED CROWNING ARTAEUS" THEY WRESTLED FOR 56:59 MINUTES WHEN THE TIME KEEPER RANG THE BELL.
HIS CLOCK HAD BEEN OFF SET. SOME CITED INTERFERENCE. bUT THE TIMEKEEPER HAD BEEN SWORN TO A CERTAIN LEVEL OF MORAL CODING.
BOTH CHAMPIONS THINK THE BOUT WAS AT A DRAW WERE SUPRISED TO HEAR, THE THE ATHLETIC COMMISSION SPEAK THE WORDS aNTAEUS vECTOR" WHICH MEANT A RESOLUTION HAD TO BE MADE. THEY DECIDED ON A TEN MINUTE CONTEST.
BOTH COMATANTS WRESTLED TO A DRAW.
Beauteous lass Thy wounds are bleeding!
Crowning crowning where thou go on?
Mothers weep and babies feeding
Crowds on crowds and trumpet blow on!
Wearest thou thy wedding garments
Then which grief thy heart thus torments?
Darkling darkling lonesome pathways
And between them Thou were standing!
Train of stars with Moon and all fays
Goddess Dream on earth is landing
Wondering heart His beating ceases
Blood from veins this scene squeezes
Smoke in vale from hearths is rising
Winds in dales and woods are whistling
Kids in yard folk tales are listening
Bird in feathers wrapped her nestling
Smoke is rising from the clay hearth
Clouds are pouring tears on wet Earth
Candle flames in gloom are flickering
Sailors all boats row and row on
Niles Queen thy story listening
Souls from heaven come and go on
Play in childhood thou in thy meads
Waves of Nile by Hamlet flow on
Gathered thou sea shells and sea weeds
Wild wild airs meanwhilist blow on
Sea mermaid on water floating
Boatmen sing songs as they row on
Lord is focusing cameras at thee
Writing fate on heavens while He
Pipes and timbral thou are hearing
Whilst tears from thine eyes flow on
Saddest pain which thy heart bearing?
Filled with tears wherest thou go on?
All maids of king on thee wait on
Beauteous soul on Nile shores come on
Crowds and crowds of people on shores
Head to toe thee eyes are watching
Bowing heads all queens and all moors
Chairs on chairs on shores they launching
With thy feet they stones are tieing
Whilst clouds and breezes sighing
They are leading thee to high waves
And all roses on thee throw on
Watching thou thy wistful heart caves
And thy love with thee now go on
Fling they thou in holy Nile waves
Thy pure love on banks for thee wails
I can't see thou come out goddess?
Beauty Queen tell are thou Hearing?
I'll help thee in thy distress
Silent stars and meads are listening
Hamlet folk's all hearts are bleeding
On the banks thou see them kneeling
I know all that wherest thou go
Stars on ways for thee are standing
Goddess moon and death in boats row
Bands of angels on waves landing
Watery Queen , come on don't be late
Eden Lord for thee on Skies wait!
“feeling not thinking, soul with love linking ~
we attained God consciousness unblinking" ~ Unseeking Seeker
L e t t e r s
I weave with
tears of twilight,
wishing written words would
reach selenite stars of lyrical longing,
singing sparks long veiled~
linking verses from the
cosmic consciousness
to your soul in sublime silence,
near the mind of your heart,
scribbling poetic quotes~
while the demise of ego
illuminates internal thoughts
like the hyacinth halo of moon-glows
crowning the third eye~
waltzing through astral realms,
amplifying awareness,
from the heat of the throat chakra,
transcending beyond
the bluest of horizons
to etch the emerald empyrean
with strokes of galactic gold,
forsaking forests flourishing
with fickleness and greens of greed.
When warm is the dawn
and bright is the dusk,
when sleep is no longer
a perplexing paradox
with no ultimate antidote~
but a remedy of divine trust,
when love is more
than a perfumed prose,
painted with illusive imagery.
When distance is a mere myth,
as flames of forgiveness twirl
beneath the same sky,
reminiscing acrylic sunsets
bathed in aesthetic wisdom~
a mystical essence
enhanced with inner zen…
To feel the pulse of peace beyond
what the eyes could see,
for it is through the psyche
we learn to draw
constellation of solace…
Remember, love is an eagle
with white rose feathers,
fragranced in everlasting devotion,
d e s i g n e d and dressed
in diamond-glazed contour…
Tonight, I refuse to breathe
lies that linger,
I’ve long been a faithful slave
to the sacred lanterns,
flickering blissful blurs
upon landscapes of loneliness~
to be the rainbow radiance,
steering suspended odysseys
onto a pristine shore of
porcelain peacefulness.
There you’ll find
footprints of believers,
secured and sketched
with herbs of h a p p i n e s s
on the face of handcrafted mirrors~
and scattered sea-shells
like rainless reflections
of glimmering gloaming,
an unblinking flame of clarity and truth
in timeless credence,
connected to the soothing rhythm
of the celestial rivers
rippling with runes embraced by
the Almighty’s heartbeat.
With the onset of advancing age, so I find,
A man grows weary of all mundane talk;
Occupies his every spare, idle thought
With that of the slow, reflective kind.
Regretful of many a squandered hour,
Turning his back on the squabbling nations,
Their woeful, self-serving deliberations,
Dreams wistfully of his own starlit tower.
Should he hopefully find that blessed stair,
Wound insides of the ancient, dim lit wall,
Where tread from unseen feet sometimes fall,
He could but elevate himself above his cares;
There, throwing his soul upon the night,
Lift his gaze upon a tumultuous crowding!
His thinning pate adorned with a crowning
From a far-flung, pale, distant light.
And if he was to fix his mind upon that point;
To that moment forcefully bring to bear,
With every ounce of fibre when stood there,
An unremitting will to somehow exploit,
That, which, the mystics so jealously guarded...
Then, perhaps, he might too ascend?
For, in all reality, at the very end,
All is thrown off...the very body discarded.
Therefore I will choose my own finality.
I give my remaining days to old worn steps
Enclosed in rock, a turret that silhouettes
Against an endless sky; and if it should be
That I find such hallowed battlements
Give aging legs the strength to slowly climb,
To praise the celestial and sublime,
When reaching up where my God frequents.
For though those stars seem out of reach,
Unattainable by grand, omnipotent design,
Nevertheless I am thusly to be inclined
To offer up a prayer and unto him beseech:-
"Immortal father who created mortal man,
Ye who sits above all earthly thrones,
Give unto me old tools and rubbled stones,
And I shall endeavour to do what I can...
To rebuild that abandoned, crumbled tower...
For, Lord, be it only by dreams men are
Truly empowered"!
Every flower has its own color
With annual observation,
this we springtime discover
Give a womb kernel cede
of acknowledgment
To the spectrum birthright
of each other
We are all one,
tho’ from a different umbilical mother
Notice the bloom of time,
come rain ... come sunshine
First eclipse dawn —
tyranny tares grew with the
the golden amber grain —
The face of nightshade oppression
had a dark tone
Steel magnolias was the fetter fragrance
of the pyramid rule chain
Pharaohs, (of no melanin discretion)
who wore the ornamental godhead,
sat atop the pinnacle
While the slaves were downtrodden fed
at the bottom below
Their crowning achievement
was to erect great tombs
But papyrus thieves in the temple
stole the toil of the ruins
Skin for skin,
this is a-fertile sowing season true
Each summer solstice empire
passes into autumnal decline view
Every bird has its own color
And the length of each wingspan
differs from one another
Take an umbilical hover,
acceptance flight
To the spectrum birthright
of each diverse other
We are all one,
tho’ tear delivered
joyously from a different womb mother
Notice the migration of time
come swaddle skybound ... come burial ground
Last obscure sunset
was the Legion silo bane talon —
The thorny wrinkles of oppression
had a pale monotone
Caesars, (of no pigment distinction)
who wore the prickly spiked laurel bled,
sat atop the carrier chariot
While the plebs were commercial shackle led
to the amphitheater above
Their crowning achievement
was to deify great destructive bombs
As scrip crooks in the palace
pilfered the taxable gift of the palms
Skin for skin ~ Epidermal blend,
this is birds of prey a-nesting season true
Autumn equinox tech empires
passed into cold war, nuclear winter view
The nature of wisdom
teaches cross-pollination pure acceptance love:
Tho’ each fruit has its own color
Why then, doth this root of affinity divides us?
This is crystal clear!
Yet, what is the color of water,
of which thee Mist of Life doth bring?
It is snowflake known —
Tears of repentance
is from whence salvation doth spring
Mindfulness
look deep in my eyes you shall see the karma of my lasting legacy willing to achieve
took a zip line down to my baby's grind sought out peace for a sure fire sweet relief
rolling them bones in the back of the joint have a 5th in my hand you all understand
made my first grand at the tender age of thirteen washing dishes busy as a bee
come and sit neck to me a story of a homeboy being capped in the knee
there's a whole host of rubbers when your in trouble make my Martini strong on the double
just like Fred & Barney Rubble need to keep your head up no its not some set up
wear your Sundays best yes life is a big test but now we rest
flirting with fire blowing it up in the most fullest desire coming down to the wire
music is in my blood just like a cow chews on its cud kinda sweep some things under the rug
there's magic in the music scene rolling out the red carpet like a village queen
living in a land so very mean got one foot in heaven the others in hell
but I got a good story to tell two rappers in the night looking so bad for a fight
one hand on the mic the other on the floor sweep blood off the floor sweeping for more
plenty plenty stop shopping at J.C Penney spinning records the best way they can
soaring to new heights that is their right a good cause to focus filled with cement shoes singing the blues
Freddie Mercury died of aids but he isn't a distant memory folks come sit next to me
there's a promise that's made in the dark coming to its fullest light
bitter sweet liqour the ***** was holding my finger don't call me late for dinner
it's a crowning achievement to stay in the zone you maybe home all alone
try to be mindul stay in the moment when you take a shower feel the warmth on your back
here the birds chirping outside the smell of the perfume scent love the decor of the room
treasure a red rose that was plucked a time before you gave your old lady making gravy
not to shady we meet in the middle playing second fiddle as you may dribble
things come and go but this much I know we bust up the beat to promote the tempo
As emotion's embolism petitions
a mirror sea for endless blue transparency-
through oculat lens flare, an albionic estuary
garden variety of pleasures appears, obligatiry-
in full disclosure, for poetic reason- to be vetted
by replay of open book read cover to cover.
A commercial grade bewitching -
in season- laid bare, to pardon a dare
Vespers of ancient psalm, timeless tale
of the re-awakened takes abionce as a Seer to come.
Where Eden-welcomes, home
to it's Shrangri la- Sangria- wetnursed bosom,
full- of the Mother's milk of Elysium.
In center-folded trappings beside firelight screenings,
beneath the fluttered kiss of frolicked summer heat,
heart mappings deriving
wind aided fireflies serenading,
in the silence of a seraphic breeze.
The heart suggests an accounting
of lost dreams as they vie for clemency
and doth softly cry verdant reprieve.
In the Goliath peer of mountain cleft,
overseeing the caress of foliage
begueathed to the canopy of emerald green,
sun dresses honey bee chaperones,
drunk in lily while
bestowing a still of radiant beam.
Crowning chance adds a touch of dandelion garland,
tendrils of sentiments worn on the sleeve,
becomes the first snows virgin fleece,
onlooking tears of starry night, light bending the knee,
peers through immodest canopy,
altar ego ghosting as
mist soaked silver valley's pheromone stair,
married with the encore of fading light laying polaroid down aware.
Amidst the ruins of a broken dream mending a solar flare of Valkycries,
the fragments speak of romantic math,
mosaic of future memories bellowed love leaves
lanterns of light ascending over calm seize.
Her Emissaries of the wind caressing her foliage with
the palms and
apothecaries drawn from a crystal song.
A symphony of nature's tender wails,
creates the plumlines of this Great Hall.
But in the quietude of night's soft glow,
Hope blooms like a rose in spring,
A promise of renewal, a whispered vow, places it all.
In a world where shadows dance in preservation ritual
of first snow's pose of
virgin purity. kept chaste as pasts echo of prose.