To all those fence riders
To all the Gospel chiders
Aspire to the Spire
To all those who besmirch
To all within Satan’s lurch
Aspire to the Spire
To all those fake fossil fans
To all those who don’t give a damn
Aspire to the Spire
To all those in quagmire
To all with a spurious ire
Aspire to the Spire
To those who have not been hopin’
To those headed for the gate wide open
Aspire to the Spire
To those first reading The Word
Don’t let your mind call it absurd
Aspire to the Spire
To all interests that (by The Holy Ghost) have been piqued
To all: take heed don’t let your seed become weed
Aspire to the Spire
To all who fall on the rocky, thorny or along the well beaten path
To all who act a fool for the king of Gath
Aspire to the Spire
To the prisoners and their lives
To those not putting up a fight
Aspire to the Spire
Resolution:
Why the spire (if it is true)?
Because it is pointing us to
(Here’s a clue for all in the convocations)
To be in[spired] by The Desire of the nations
Upon the ridge, where summer winds blow free,
A spired procession wakes in shades of blue,
To paint the landscape in a pastel sea,
And bathe the hillside in an azure hue.
They stand as sentinels of amethyst,
With velvet leaves that reach toward the sun,
Adorned in dewdrops, by the morning kissed,
Before the heat of midday has begun.
Though named for wolves, they bring the soil no harm,
But yield their nitrogen to barren ground,
A wild, untamed, and vibrant floral charm,
Where beauty in the desolate is found.
So stands the lupine, resolute and fair,
A breathless wonder in the summer air.
Tailors’ quaint imagination
For customers adoration:
Only-God-knows inspiration
He knows time of expiration:
The crisscrossed and zigzagged entire,
As they are what eyes require,
Bejeweled Hat like spire
Who in Man ideas inspire?
One long look at Men’s Attire
You know it would them not tire;
Man would not from farce retire
On writers urging satire…
Tailors, gross imagination
From machines a machination.
My words My Life.
.
My words are are not superficial
Or mere contrite
But my deepest thoughts and heart felt feelings
My mistress my love my life
.
Compelled to release both my joy and fustations
My conviction and therapy disclosing
Who I am my earnest desires and the man I be
From the overflowing colourful fountain of my heart
That liberates my soul with enthusiasm and avid passion
Otherwise my world surely fall apart
.
Fired and I spired by experience and wisdom
Through my humble words I hope to impart
Something to inspire others they can relate to
Be of value and ultimately with love and good will
Touch others receptive heart
When the world gets too much
And their worlds fall apart
.
My words are always truthful
For I can never fabricate a lie
They remain my legacy to whoever
Long after I have expired and died
.
Through writing be it good or bad
I hope to find and understand myself
And grow in wisdom and spirituality
Whatever the reader thinks of my words
I bared my soul and this
Is me.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
Palantine you wrecked my mind
You fool for passions, makes no one better
Spired in wrath, you missed the mark
I AM alone still walking
Find your zombie working happy
Still admired by his mother
Failed your try to warp another
the lyrics of the legend unfurled a spired wave and sonorous impulse
9/1/2018
Z-oom
Y-our
A-pparent
S-hine
I-f
A-spired
T-riumph
I-s
C-ompletely
O-btained
P-reventing
E-very
J-inxed
E-vent
Topic: Birthday of Zy Asiatico Peje (July 19)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
S-oul
O-pens
F-rom
I-nside
A-s
K-indness
I-n
M-ind
M-akes
E-ach
D-ay
A-glow
L-etting
L-ife's
A-spired
D-elight
A-bound
Topic: Birthday of Sofia Kim Medallada (July 17)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
H-ope
E-rases
D-oubt
E-levating
L-ife
I-nto
Z-enith
A-nd
C-ompletion
I-n
A-spired
N-ice
O-pportunity
Topic: Birthday of Hedeliza A. Ciano (June 18)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
my head's
in a whirl,
lost..
where am I?
who will
find
us..
is
there enough
time...
run
run
that way
In spired by Theme to 40's radio thriller Dick Barton
O STATELY BEAUTY ERE YOUR GRANDEUR FLORA FLOW,
SO BLEST OUR EYE.
BE SOWN THE ESSENCE SEEDS OF THIS OUR LIFES REBIRTH,
SOFTLY HOLD OUR HEARTS.
BENDED TENDERED ARMS, WHISPERED TONES REVEALED,
SPOKEN TO OUR EAR.
WITH MIGHT IN STORM INDUCE YOUR RAGE TRANSCENDS,
THE FLIGHT OUR HUMAN FRAILITY.
TREMBLED COVERED BOUGHS HELD IN SPIRED GREENERY,
POWERLESS BE OUR FEARS.
NUTURING LEAVES ABOUND AMIDST A TROUBLED WORLD,
EMBODIED IN OUR ARMS.
HOMES KIND FOR CREATURES SERENE, TRANQUIL REALMS,
A WARM PLACE FOR OUR DREAMS.
O LEST WE TAKE FOR GRANTED SO NOBLE, MIGHTY FRIEND,
INSTILL IN US OUR PRIDE.
MAINTAIN A PLACE, LAY DOWN YOUR SEESDS APLENTY,
GIVE YET TO US OUR BREATH.
HELP THUS A WORLD OF WOE IN WHICH WE’VE FALTERED,
AND CLEAN OUR SOUL.
STAND ERECT TO FIGHT THE DEEDS OF HUMBLE SERVANTS,
SEEP O ESSENCE FINE AND HOLD FOR US,
OLD FRIEND WITH BARK AND RINGS OF LIFE SURROUND,
GIVE US OUR JOY.
YOUR MAJESTIC LOFT SPREAD YOUR ETERNAL ARMS,
WE SPEAK WITH OUR LOVE.
BE PATIENCE WITH US, TEND FOR US OUR ATMOSPHERE,
O THUS OUR BLESSED FRIEND.
An old church stands with a spired steeple
Amidst the townspeople at Fox and Main
Where the hypocrites pray for sinful souls
And clergy holds sermons that entertain.
Within this sanctuary lined with pews
And opalescent glass and glittering gold
Odoriferous breaths of morning booze
Betray inebriants among the fold.
The Sunday sermon lectures temperance
Its message they heard many times before
The spoken words make no difference
Because people don’t heed them anymore.
The pimps and sots, sinners all congregate
Buying forgiveness while passing the plate.
I have not always history enjoyed
It started small
a little corner of my minds eye
But my vision widened
Into history,
and her story.
I became intrigued.
What fine clothes they wore,
what handsome steeds,
Purer flower and fauna.
Architecture so inspired
Multi spired
Vastly simple
Opulent, yet necessary
Where was I in that design?
Which ancestor sent me here?
from what linage?
The cares of today
evolved from the past
then rush into the future.
I can embrace
from whence I came
chose paths that will take me
where I wish to go.
So if
while reading stories
and accounts
of things that were before
I settle back against a rock or pillar
dreaming of what was
I am merely seduced
by gentle tendrils
teasing my imagination
for a second glance
into the cloak of the past.
Silence breaks from atop the ancient Oak
I discern his small waiting shadow
Where others glimpse only spired branches
Tossing against the cerulean skyline
Sharp eyes of obsidian depths
Follow my intent of movement
Talon perched within the canopy
Simply waiting for me to move
The raven beseeches my name
His call weighing ever heavier
A solitary patron of the impending
I am he and he exists within me
Lending flight upon black razored wings
I exist in the purest of freedoms
For that which only he confers
Never passing judgment on my passions
Or reproachful of my actions
Silence breaks from atop the ancient Oak
A silhouette that is the absence within…
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