Long Orison Poems

Tower
             An abandoned old ten storied tower I reach
              ...

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she was only too aware that her own conception had been maculate

it had been not been a virginal birth and yet a blessed gift from God

	
	her mother a whore in the town’s creep joint

	father a...

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In Full Flight Her Soul Departed


To free my heart of all that haunted me
Told I, these my tidings.
... On a summer's dawn,
Fresh from our orisons, we wandered forth
To greet the waking of the meadow flowers
And...

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CHANGE by Ian Munywe
upon his visage boasts sweat,industry an upheld virtue.
firm stature is exhibited,hard labour an accepted custom.
a time for toil yearns,wheat and other victuals for the future.
every stride to strive in burning heat,a quest...

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SONG OF HOPE

             
                   ...

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Mysterious Tower

                         From top of a tower I am watching Sun...

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OLD GREAT GRAND OLYMPIAD                      Acrostic

        Ocean creatures...

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This poem is inspired by Jeff Ripple's painting titled 'Stormy Weather'. You can find the link to the painting at the bottom of the page, and there is also an image of the painting uploaded...

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'Sleep my dear, else Hastar will come for you',
Cried the teary eyed lad, of barely ten and two,
His visage flushed in blood, as he sought refuge,
To save his flesh from his ancestors turned ghoul.

Slinging his...

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In thirty five seconds
You may see eternity clear as day
Quick as a flash and passing away
Too fast for opinions
To contend for understanding. too
Fast to contend for judgment. Rue
It in flash, for we see
Eight thousand alive...

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MORNING RITUAL
                                 ...

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ENDLESS STAIRCASE

         To watch spectacular sunset
        I reached on top of an abandoned tower in solitary sea beach.
  ...

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The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake – Part Ten

Of late dying yellowing orange rays glint through the turret
Where neither muezzin nor mullah bids the sun to set
Lyceen lassies in threes swear by a ghostly figure
A gaunt...

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Autumn  Constanza

             Autumn on azure ambient.
             Flowers in saffron and...

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It has been a while since a flower has blossomed from my paper 
and embellished it with its benevolent sign of happiness
My happiness lies in you and it has been absent for as long as...

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AUTUMN ROYAL

                    Autumn fire on azure ambient
         ...

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"Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future."  - David Mitchell's character Sonmi 451 

A slave was...

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Gloomy clouds floated smearing the soul
My stare caught a wisp fluttering wild
Lost as I was,  yet was then lost again
Anxious look made me gasp in vain
Calm and shaking my senses stood
Graceful smile which was...

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Walk en route to Greenhouse,
Stuck prepossessed all pretty rose;

Mind bear pent up blues,
Find near pool of bliss;
Apart thee,no par clues!

Fragrance mixed up blowing Breeze;
whence dressed up in glowing hues?
Droplets acne turn ye Freeze?

Disastrous touch wanna...

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The sun and I we rose from the bed of night
And walked abroad the damp grass and trees
Stretching with each step the line of delight
To edge the liquid tongue of murmuring seas.

A nightingale nuanced the...

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Dear God,

  You know my thoughts before I think them, you know my needs before I need them, and you know if my heart prays from a state of purity.  I have approached...

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I read and pray you comprehend.

Watching him read those words was hard
Seeming so cold and white in heart

Void of the sun the clouds turn pale
Who gains breath after all carries the tale.
Wraiths roamed the streets
A...

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In a lonely garden there' s a shrine
where upon a rough hewn stone is writ:
“GOD IS LOVE.”

The devoted supplicants make wail,
water the flowers, feed with crumbs
the sacramental dove.

A priest, decrepit, feeds the holy fire,
rakes the...

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In a lonely garden is a shrine
where upon a rough hewn stone is writ:
“GOD IS LOVE.”

The devoted supplicants make wail,
water the flowers, feed with crumbs
the sacramental dove.

A priest, decrepit, feeds the holy fire,
rakes the embers...

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It’s cold
And I long,
Really not feeling well.
It’s winter while I
Touch you within the snow.
My thoughts race me
Horrifyingly toward you,
The pain, 
I can barely overcome.

It’s the bluest winter,
Like your eyes, my dearest.
And it feels so warm,
Just...

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