Ripsnorting depravity cavity of sporting gravity
Severity of the brevity cheekily courting levity
Hilarity distorting polarity Tests aren’t a charity
Unpopularity resorting to double downed vulgarity
Clarity for sorting parity then humility not a rarity
Some austerity can feed & lead to prosperity
Precarity due to the complete lack of dexterity
Asperity at temerity & totality of Bazball brutality
Banality of celebrity vanity caused the disparity
Mendacity that red ball is just all about audacity
In reality plans need adaptability or fans profanity
Rapacity of elan talismans fatality simply insanity
Varnished Tech Titans
Tattered totems tarnished
Viral tribal bible spiral
Tainted talismans taunted
Cash cows flaunted
Gerontocracy trumps democracy
Theocracy stumps hypocrisy
Autocracy dumps diplomacy
Haunted schism prism
Vaunted Fat Cats
Enigma?…just
Dogma & Stigma
Tit for Tats
Martian Martial law
Doff your hats
To techno-*wats
And petro-*rats
Deplore or Encore?
Poor Planet in flux
All about the bucks
Ersatz Fat Cats
Well More is More!
Her smile, the softly ringing bells of her laughter, the newly discovered talismans against encroaching death.
The delicate light, faint but growing, that first lit and warmed her own glowing freckled skin, danced in her eyes like the sea in the summer, bounced off the glints of auburn in her hair until she seemed lighted from the inside like a lantern...and as a lantern would, drove the darkest, heaviest shadows from the corners around her.
Oh...this...SHE...is what is meant by the divinity...in feminity. I see. Her face, these eyes, the heavy slope of these breasts. They are the design that completed creation and made it right. They are beauty and joy and life. The curve of this belly, the unafraid openness of this soul that invites and offers rest. It is comfort and it is peace and it is sacred. At once she is the warm home fire that draws me in and the precious marble statue, cool and pristine, blocked off, in my mind, behind proverbial velvet ropes, art, not for hands like mine to touch...
Oh, but I would die of exhaustion, making her smile, keeping her laughing...and humbly watching her gentle, holy light.
The day the hour,
The meat the shower,
Show no oscillating octopus to an octagonal obelisk and eat a Greek tortilla upside down in a second. It is wiser to tread lightly in a miller’s abode. Round and round the turrets go those turtles so mind your footing for shells can be slippery really.
When shopping for an Aberdeen Angus bull it is wise to carry an umbrella as showers can occur from any lengths of tail thus rendering talismans useless and a fruit fly would remark that a plate of steamed rice is simply not that exciting really so now after all that information you can leapfrog over the dandelions wearing a cotton pair of anglers waders and a fish hat with or without fins.
X anthropomorphic creatures X
This poem is dedicated to my best friend kat.
For we are all demons!
Demons
In ages of old, when myths held sway,
Demons walked Earth, at the close of the day.
When shadows lengthened, and fear held its reign,
Their whispers arose, like a chilling refrain.
In Babylon's towers, and Egypt's vast lands,
Demons lurked hidden, with clawed, grasping hands.
They preyed on the weak, the weary, the lost,
Their influence growing, at a terrible cost.
But the ancients fought back, with rituals and might,
Invoking the gods, in the pale moon's light.
Priests chanted incantations, warding off the dread,
With amulets and talismans, the demons were fled.
From Babylon to Greece, the battle endured,
Against the unseen, their existence assured.
A timeless struggle, against the unknown,
The fight against demons, forever to be shown.
In legends and myths, their echoes remain,
A reminder of darkness, and enduring pain.
But the human spirit, forever will rise,
To conquer the demons, beneath the dark skies
A time to rake; to search embers,
to pore over resurrected,
fire-damaged relics.
On an ancient shore
driftwood, fagots, and reeds
are heaped up onto a pyre of time.
After the fire there is a sorting.
a probing for talismans and trinkets.
Before the flames, flesh had hidden them,
in its open wounds.
An iron crucifix; smutter tarnished,
lays blackened by the quick flames.
It is held up to the sun,
by a tattered man of woe.
Death’s archeologist
wipes this soot-seared icon,
with a sweat-stained rag.
Other artifacts are long drowned,
they wait for the hands
of fishermen to haul them in,
to return them
to a modern-day Nazareth,
there, Islamic street traders
still sell religious curios
for Israeli shekels.
Ballads and candles of lyrical light
in stemmed yearning
breezes of ethereal pearl
shimmering translucence
in a velvety damask
A celestial serenade ~
glittering gold, a halo of airy haze
An ostentatious cynosure, a wispy elixir
Calcite talismans and ethereal melody.
The cosmos is in harmony
zingy zest blasts in sapphirelike gaze
A flow dashed over the scary abyss.
an emollient erstwhile fugacious lyric
The
imagined force is recast and concentrated into an inorganic
material.
Intentional,
possessing the owner's future with satisfying
charisma.
The
talisman, as some are known to be, is the resulting
changeover.
Better
days lay ahead of the object holders, who will be the subject of good
fortune.
Prehension
of one's life worth and outlook will be exceedingly
awesome.
Blithesome
accesses the favorable
heart.
Impart
the wealth produced, amongst
others.
Effectuators
are doubly loved for that
realization.
Fruition,
when done unnoticeably, is agape
love.
Hereinabove,
the exceptional natures are
emphasized.
Harmonized
beginnings are the effects of the talisman's
aura.
Note: Laura Leiser has been a good friend for several years and was the one who invited me to try Poetry Soup in 2016. She leads a writer's workshop that I am blessed to be a member of, and is a talented poet in many styles, writing of nature, family, faith, whimsical topics and vignettes from life. I hope you can take some time this week to check out some of her poems. Happy Birthday Laura! (June 10th)
Creation is your most beloved theme:
"Icelandic talismans of tales sublime".
So many forms you've written, it would seem
you never lack for metaphor or rhyme.
Your faith in God so strong, with nuance blest
in poems 'giving godly grace' to all.
Heroic crown of sonnets - I'm impressed!
a masterpiece that holds my soul in thrall.
You write of moments from the life you live,
of lovely grandchildren - one girl, one boy.
As you have given freely, so I give
my birthday greeting - may it bring you joy!
So grateful for the heartfelt, warm invite
six years ago that led me to this site.
flag
a train runs over me and mine
indifferent to our
cries its moguls feed without blinking are incredulous
masses going to swell to occasion grace is it
to be sheep suckled on milks of
savage pride while honey-blessed malnourished
legions no longer bleat they howl with mutant
alchemy grey towers conjure only
more foul-magic talismans to throw dogs empty
bones will not satisfy even sparrows consume themselves in famine
they'll have to kill me i'll not taint myself in
their unholy rag i've seen them eat their children and pimp
their own to strangers
he began to weep rivers of flame and bleed armies of rage
too late to quench tiger-fire soon will femur
trumpets wail chod-rite cymbals crash all urns of sin spill forth
lava-like consuming marionette and masters in
ancient ways known to all
rb '90
Gleaming wager’s chart spells filmy odds
And tip triers to toss wee mites for more;
To forfeit modicums of ground for vaster
Acres wider than the fabled Midas shore.
No curse greater than lost chances fair
Baked and gilded to enchant and deke,
Verily sure-win swoops altered mid air;
Glittering talismans foiled in their peak!
Each day under Fortune’s ogling suns,
Gambles’ lusting eyes dreamingly leer
At the cyclically winding mill of chance,
Heavy with sudden wealth's fetish fear.
Even now swift-tossed coins fruitless go,
Innumerable ages after the maiden shot;
And any flopping dice still wouldn’t count,
Till Bill’s vulpine wads trickle in in a draw.
Millions of eons past nature's trite element,
Odds will be spelled and big wins still bent.
A sweep of milky waves flood onyx sands
converging under endless summer skies
of northern lights in iridescent bands
Icelandic talismans of tales sublime.
A glassy sea of crystalline degrees
sustain a mass of icebergs in its pews
that lift their icy eyes in melting pleas
to wrest the dying of their waning hues.
Aurora beams reflect unearthly lights
against tall umber cliffs that stand below
the vivid landscape raises to grand heights
a trippy, tie dyed phosphorescent show.
In seldom witnessed, lonely obscure lands
a sweep of milky waves flood onyx sands.
Written on 5/21/2019
Acts of contrition, on knees if I recount
Beatitudes, eight, sermon on the mount
Charity given, is blessings received
Dalai Lama, a Buddhist deity
Ecumenism, it understands and unites
Fascism erodes individual rights
Gaia, Greek goddess of our mother earth
Heresy, one's belief, another's mirth
Idolatry, the worship of false gods
Jehovahs Witnesses, the sidewalks they trod
Kama, Hindu god of the erotic
Lex talionis, is somewhat exotic
Mary, Christmas holds that she was a virgin
Naturalism, this belief seems to burgeon
Orthodoxy, keeping with old traditions
Penance, requires sin and admissions
Quaker, informal for Society of Friends
Ramadan, are you relieved when it ends?
Sabbath, is it Saturday or the day after?
Talismans, sometimes, subject of laughter
Universalism, bring us together?
Values the thought of happy ever afters
Whatever your dogma, does it really matter?
X amine your heart, reject idle chatter
You should maybe contact your Spirit Guides
Zenith of acceptance with us resides
beautiful photo of the church taken by Jackie on Instagram @jacci_eo
1/19/16
That is it
After this
No matter if
The road ahead is hazardous
Beside many establishments
Waters with or without halibuts
And areas where the ground and air has traces of contaminants
Bought her a lot of amethyst
And garnets that were called mandarins
So that whenever she wanted too, she could dress up and feel glamorous
In the liquor cabinet
Was bottles, some of which were extravagant
And they typically had either a cork or twist cap on it
Others showing their true colors
Fussing over nothing
Then being animus
Because they are desperate and ravenous
I told you you're soft and gelatinous
Stop trying to talk blasphemous
Or you'll get burned like a lot of cannabis
Bought some amulets
And found a box of talismans
What it said and meant, caused me to conduct my own analysis
Imbolc's Light that shines so bright.
Bring prosperity into our sight.
Laughter, good health and creativity too.
All this we humbly ask of you.
Keep us mindful our path not to stray.
As we continue walking the Wiccan Way.
Relieve us from anger and weariness of heart.
As we have committed ourselves to this new start.
Powers low and powers high.
With Mother Earth and Father Sky.
As we light Imbolc's sacred flame.
These magick rites we hereby claim.
Pulling together to deflect harm.
Using our talismans and special charm.
As season's come and season's go.
Our love for each other we will bestow!
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