Long Impious Poems
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"Darkness will be preferred to light, and death will be thought more profitable than life; no one will raise his eyes to heaven; the pious will be deemed insane, and the impious wise; the madman will be thought a brave man, and the wicked will be esteemed as good." -The Prophecy of Thoth
Unwavering promise veiled lengthy devotion,
Unveiling the eyes amid his universe’s notion.
Unlacing the heavenly brightness of the sky,
Up is taken inside a magnificent nirvana fly.
Undeniably, we are only a mass of molecules.
All are formed of atoms that follow the rules.
Each atom in these mites emitted an energy wave.
These sway waves are like those in the coral cave.
Unarguably, it covers the crux of reality,
Only energy creates a split personality.
The higher self is the same for everyone.
You and me are the same under the sun.
It drifted away from our world: the universe,
defining the darkness of our primal curse.
The countless orbs will doubtless collide.
These natural laws cannot be denied.
How vast and deep is this boundless sea?
How dreadful is the length that would be?
It’s a site where nice trends may be in motion.
Massive explosions and planetary interaction
Our ubiquitous spirit opens and ends in us alone,
Our grace makes waves of the right tone.
Always stay in touch, since God is a paradise.
He is Alpha and Omega, and must apply his device.
Under the dark, there is a flow of darkness,
What we do, leaves a mark, even in blackness.
This is like a shadow that vanishes without bliss,
Overcoming bias and approaching the abyss.
The truth may put one’s mind at ease,
hearing the dramatic cosmic history of seas.
Only a tad of the cosmos, we are worthless.
We must relate this to the mood of purpose.
Written: November 1St, 2022
Writing Challenge - Unburden a ''U'' Word- Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
--Who Has no Tomb to Rest His Soul--
After the long, long wandering in the wasteland,
sometimes by the sea where the roaring wind surges
the waters, or times in the highland where the dews chill the bone,
and other times by the marsh where pouring rain lashes the reeds,
Oedipus the blind and ruined old man, led by his dearest daughter,
came to the land of running horseman Colonus,
the land where Theseus reigns.
Woe is the blindness,
strange ground where Oedipus stepped on,
however, was the holy ground of immortal beings,
the ground forbidden to all who are the mortals.
Oedipus, therefore, an impious old man,
the blasphemous king once reigned Thebes,
the shameless one without the eyes to see.
Since the day driven out from Thebes
Oedipus needed a refuge where to lay his worn out body,
where to rest his wandering soul, and therefore, though
unknowingly, he hastily stepped on Holy Land.
Since he was expelled by his own sons and mother’s brother,
Oedipus needed the comforting word that soothes his aching body,
that relieves his troubled heart, and therefore, to hear
sweet music descending from above and echoes
in the grove as the gay spirited birds twitters,
he hurriedly sat on an altar forbidden to the mortals.
The oracle upon Oedipus since his conception
in mother’s womb was a cursed one, a foe to his own father,
the curse Oedipus, therefore, carried from the day of his birth was,
rather than a blessed one the proud heir to the ruler the king of Thebes,
but to become an abandoned child one forced to be a stranger everywhere.
And after the long wandering in an endless desolated land,
though death gave benediction in the night dark as his sight at last,
it did not allow him to have a tomb where his beloved daughters
would be able to dedicate a piece of stone with an epitaph,
the inscribed words of praise to honor him, or to recollect
his sorrowful image before his grave with tears in time to time,
though it may be a painful reminiscence to his daughters.
Alas! the king Oedipus, who has no tomb to rest his wandering soul
even after his death under an evil star.
Holy Love At Stake
Quiescent prayer reached the flames in half hearted conviction when
flamboyant immolation reached ‘Gundred’ at the stake of retribution
Should she have been quartered tarred and feathered first to keep the
luscious cleansing fire engulfing her up from ankles to impious mind
was the arcane message to ambivalent for the crowd to understand
Or had she been the one who lead a righteous life ahead of her times
precocious in enlightenment a revolutionary Queen of selfless justice
‘Aelfraed’ thought in bittersweet confusion that the wicked witch had
little chance to float on water or on the ashes to prove guilt or innocence
when tactile palpitations joined him and her across their heart’s desire
They had been lovers for five years of quintessence in pride and greedy
lust shared bed and table where she had mixed her potions for seduction
How he now wished in gluttony and envy that it was him to be eaten
by the conflagration with the raging congregation hurling abuse and
bits of misdirected conscience at the puppet of humbug and hypocrisy
Was it human fallow weakness that made his prayers succumb to doubts
or was it God incinerating his blasphemous Goddess for there was nothing
No relief for ‘Gundred’ with ‘Aelfread’ the forlorn intercessor beseeching
in too moderate modest helplessness standing by his passion numbed he
wondered if he adjured too feebly or why else the Messiah did not heed his call
12th November 2016
Even unto the ages,
I am with thee.
As the world, entered into
a deteriorating cycle,
evil shall arise and the
dark ages shall return.
Rages, torture, self destruction,
lies and deceitfulness,
assassinations, abductions, will
be rationalisatised by
the impious leaders of the world.
These leaders will be engendering war,
which will send the people into
a state of frenzy,
causing innocent blood
to be shed,
all by the hands
of the enemies.
The spread of genocide
shall continue as the wiping out
of tribes, continue to
depart, due to extinction,
by the evildoers.
The comings of nuclear war
shall generate a catalym,
that shall put the world back
into a desolate place.
Nevertheless, as these events
draw near, consecrate my commandments,
heart them, and I shall be with
thee, teaching and guiding the way.
In the days to come,
guard thy consciousness
as the war, has always
been against thy consciousness
from the beginning of the ages.
Cognizes thyself and apprehend
the power thee hold,
for thy life, depends on it.
As the ages creepth up,
man must save himself,
or perish for lacking
our knowledge.
Awake old man, and drink
of my wisdom. Attain
the knowledge that hounds
thy flame in bondage.
For only this will manumit
thee from the hands
of death and unchaining
thee from the circle of life.
Remain steadfast and
apprehend, that even unto the
ages, I am with thee.
Opening the door to Pandora’s box where chaos descends
As the wickedness of the locusts descends upon this world
giving birth unto passions that have no heavenly equity
Craftily-constructed plausibility draws away the inexperienced mind
held captive within the wounds of prejudice that are licked by a splintered tongue
while our Lord patiently awaits with outstretched loving arms pierced deeply
Vain genealogies born of arrogance in an allure to the simple minded
unable to distinguish evil falsehoods from truth they stumble on nevertheless
brass mixed with sliver shines falsely bright to the deceiver and deceived
Error in judgement their blasphemous and impious opinions spread venomously
In an allure of reality where more true than then truth itself beckons mendaciously
souls of Our Savior colourless in creation for the divinity of heaven is not of this earth
Almighty transparency transcends in all earthly traits eclipsing a complete deceit
His Excellency most sublime radiant Gem gleams of eternity for all mankind
Whom when asked gives the Precious gift of His Blood through Grace unconditionally
a co written piece by Donna Loughman and liam mc daid
As the Great Work is complete and Victory is Won
and the Soul reaches its Sum, On Earth As The Sun
and the Great Duality Commences, by Union Triumphed
and the Lesser makes haste, Vanquished and Crushed
from Below to Above where the Sacred Light is claimed
from the Impious to the Saint,
from the Flesh to the Soul, from the Soul to the Crown
from the Crown to the Sword, from the Sword Unbound
from the Roots of the Earth to the Unmeasurable Skies
from Degradation to Imperishable Heights,
from the Lesser to the Greatest to the Blazing of Great Fires
from Robes to Garments to Celestial Cyphers,
As Below So Above, where Veils are Unshackled, Undone
Ever Forth like Wind Psalms, On Earth As The Sun
One mystic blue night dead still,
I’ll steal the silver full moon,
break it into sharp shards,
and stow them in the backyard
under the shadow of the creepy cloud.
The dark devils will enter with fiend
my anguished heart beating vengeance,
hit hard by the moonless dreary darkness,
and make my boiling enraged blood
turn into lacerating incisive lancet.
The sinister scarlet elixir in my veins
the night will drink like wine,
the shining sequined full moon lost,
it’ll make a black one hollow,
darker than the dread of doomsday.
When the impious wolves will slash
the neck of the frozen stillness,
their ominous bark in the chilled air
will shred the nocturnal chastity, it's time
for moon plucking from sordid shadow.
They cunningly ensnare in an instant
the naive malleable minds unaware,
skillfully wrap with mute trance
the innocent hearts trapped
in the travesty tangle of love.
I’ll slit open their deceitful throats,
slice the reveling saccharine lips
with the harvested sickle moon.
I will never be known as a great mind,
and they may never recognize me or honor me
for the thoughts and perceptions
I delivery with austerity and firmness
to everyone who has lived little,
and thinks that experience
teaches nothing and it is
so worthless and shallow:
to make them gods and boost their ego!
Am I like them,enshrouding myself...
fearing to be overcome by the light of truth:
witnessing the horror of tragedies...
unempathizing,encroaching upon their despair:
as to deny their unimaginable pain?
I've heard folks blaming and cursing God
for all the catastrophies and evils...
is there anybody who can be compared to Him,
having compassion for a lost world?
My cross of sacrifice clearly despicts
something of the unexplainable devine;
some men were chosen to bear truth,
never being deceived by the converts,
who roam like wild beasts to distorts minds,
and change all the thoughts of devoted hearts...
ready to impugn imprudently
and incarnate a false appearance:
to resemble the lumineries of the Heavens;
will they ever be so blinded by their pretenses?
My cross of sacrifice is not impious
or demands deprivation of any kind;
a joyous and clean life brings many blessings...
those blessings bestowed upon me
to enthrall me and entrust that task to widsdom!
And growing in grace and purity
I will see Him and exalt His holiness
more than the faithful angels could ever imagine,
because He will open the entrance to knowledge
and unlock all the mysteries entombed in time!
Imagine the clouds gathering above start to swirl
with hypnotic movement heavy rains begin to fall
the scent of the sea permeates, you inhale brisk salty air
and the angry waves divulge their impious white tip curls.
Imagine floating in the darkness of time
and your imagination speaks enchanting words
came back; come back to the lure of the ancient seas
into a prism of darkness, whispering its tapestry of rhyme.
Imagine drifting back in time, to the time before
when spirits walked, when the earth was new
back in time to the time when the red moon rose
and the Gods walked along its dim and distant shores.
Imagine far across the sea, the black walls of Hell
stretching forth to the sky where both sky and sea
darken into blackness, and the black clouds pause
then stir again as the angry sea heaves and swells.
Imagine the blood moon peering in the horizon
beckoning the mystics of the sea, chanting
come to me; come to me, come to me,
then the serpents of the sea, they begin risin’.
Imagine a mist emerging from the distant shore
spreading death along its lethal silent path
pausing briefly then heaves aside the shadows
with more of sovereignty than ancient lore
Imagine somewhere in that scene faces without names
filled with wisdom and skilled in prophecy,
beneath a vast space, of which is a tempest
with rolling billows, and tongues of electric flames.
Imagine floating above the angry waves
Whispering the words of the oracle
come to me, come to me, ever and anon
to the depth beneath, to the sailor’s watery graves.
Imagine now the calming seas;
Blue skies, white clouds, and
The solemn twilight of a new day;
Imagine the timber of this gentle breeze.
Truth be told said topic minimally embellished
rather, prattling youthful looking
baby booming geezer
precious time (yours), he doth bilk
(cue sinister mock-up halloween voice)
moost valuable intangible
outstripping fine spun golden silk,
yet coronavirus (COVID-19) quarantine
drives dingbat to whole new level
wits end where sonar helps sound out his ilk.
Think me swallowing, gulping, and asphyxiating
essential experiencing ill humor versus zest
suddenly impossible mission life and death quest
in short oxygen with air supply
depleted blame climate change
analogous to getting trachea
severely pelted, pinched, pressed
nevertheless, I limber twigs to build a nest
simultaneously (choking, gagging, and laughing)
appeasing the impractical joker within/without
lame impersonation suave debonair beau geste
and pardon following hyperbole expressed.
More onerous (ha) to parish priests
tendering, regarding and administering last rites
aforementioned "fake" dead serious claim,
one little known prevaricator doth attest
(nip pulling excess milk of human kindness)
faux (pas and mine late ma)
gaming altruism confessed
dirty deeds done dirt cheap
hypothetically earning devout resuscitator
invoking divine intervention
upon impious hackneyed poetaster brownie points.
Now fur heal, aye really gotta
get get something off me chest
flagrant exaggerated golden opportunity analogous,
videre licet his achievements or service to country