Have you read the note?
It speaks of the doom of the liquid element.
An inclement weather, grey, and with the fuss of a bleached lightning,
Besieges the tick of the clock.
Must have been a bland Sunday, which retreated
From the temerity of old wine,
Haunted by the lonesome refrains of exhausted hymns.
The belfry yawned loosely....
But quiet crept in like leprosy,
Hanging loops on loam-matted hair, black and fringy,
And nursing frets we held
When the wetted guitar strings would not strum....
Have you read her note?
Not the one of Mrs. Dalloway
Nor the one of Between the Acts,
But the one she cringed for —
That banal, invidious act, non-virginal,
Which haunts the church to this day.
When missiles fly
The Mullahs lie
They bide their time
To turn the tide
Their constant bluster
Now short of luster
For why we ask
No God sent task
To build a bomb
With feigned aplomb
Their word to spread
Among the dead
They have their place
To find God's grace
Not trample lives
Like stinging hives
Fear and temerity
No road to prosperity
But that's what they seek
Control of the meek
A proud nation with tales of old
A proud people who once were bold
A history where feats abound
A long lost empire to astound
Time for Iranians to now earn
That for which they clearly yearn
Freedoms tenuous flickering light
Now in their grasp in line of sight
We close our eyes when we sleep, imagine, kiss, and pray
because the most beautiful things can not be seen,
they are felt with the heart.
~ Sweet Dream Love Quotes
In dreams I call your name, and slowly you come to me
For the first time I see your smile; the light in your eyes
It's a mischievous little boy grin, but not quite innocent
I think of it as the crescent moon on a warm summer night
I've not heard your voice, but I sense its timbre is deep
except when you ever so softly whisper my name as I sleep
It's always the fullness of your lips that draw my stare
and I feel the need to move closer until I can inhale you
There's an ache throbbing inside me, threatening my sanity
until the beggar in me transforms reticence into temerity
If you sleepwalk, whisper my name and I will find you
When is enough enough,
When is the going just too tough.
Why do people have to die
Forever in the ground to lie.
Are the spoils worth all the pain
When the path is kill and maim.
Is barren land worth just so much
Now deprived of human touch.
Do fatherless children justify the cost
Memories of a generation lost.
Weeping mothers by the score
Adding every day far more.
Politicians acting blind
To the misery resigned,
Just numbers on a sheet
Conscious only of defeat.
Pride and hubris win the day
Reason not allowed to sway.
Yet solutions need be found
Striving to be clear and sound.
Calmer voices must assist
For further slaughter to desist.
The way forward won't be fast
Searching for a peace to last.
Neither side will win outright
Time for discourse not brute might.
Russia needs restore prosperity
Ukrainians live without temerity.
Who could find the sheer temerity?
To wallow in such ( sin-serity )
a tomb
you say
domed
and grand
and cherubin
temerity
a mass grave
of all of us
but
who still
creeps around
upstairs
The assumption with gumption
is that its meant for
general consumption.
But like a spice
it should be used sparingly,
for that which spurs us on to dare and dream,
It takes chutzpah, bravery and temerity
to be willing to take on
the necessary risks entailed
with audacity, guts and tenacity.
Its gumption consumption,
without interruption,
that gets the job done.
Steve likes to control people's lives.
He could hate men for their bad wives;
Who tries Steve's eyeballs to death drives,
His razor worse than twenty knives!
Thus, Steve's trusted friend Jeremy
Had to become his enemy
Jeremy to face his army
For being recently The Barmy...
I love Steve's dead sincerity,
Not his love for temerity:
His mad thirst for severity
And voice for dropped Austerity...
Men should know trends that are recent
And afford they can The Decent,
Wasting not strength for an ascent,
Where lies but yesterday's assent.
Both the beginning and ending at once
A fractured peace of tears and smiles
The love for and loathing of self
A shattered mirror no more than glass
Life swore a vow and broke it
A curse of despair and hope
Nothing will change if not changed
The paradox of existence
The temerity of the desperate and hopeful
Tasting the inevitable and looking to the sunrise
Breath’s inspiration and expiration
Suspirations of joy and sorrow
The hopeless are the helpless
Nothing remains for them but ashes and dust
A figment in the endless revolution of day and night
That we are more than fleeting
I always wanted friendship
i didn't want the domain
wanted respect
no temerity
I want satisfaction
not the glamour
or fame...
Canopy’s aperture, spilled light’s nuance, tinted,
as my eyes arrested, to attest fall’s saga…
A tree proclivity, had me stalled in Ashland,
watching the leaves succumb, leaving stark limbs barren…
Those with temerity, plunged at high speed, head first
Others spun dizzily, tornado-bewildered…
Few flew in gradients, of sideways-sloped descent:
wishes on air sustained, just a little longer…
Some seemed to ride gentle, invisible, sleep-chutes,
touching down easily, with wizened acceptance…
My marrow slowly chilled, as damping moisture crept
But cheer was soon bubbling, as merry maples fell:
swaying in zigs and zags, frolics of to and fro,
to come to a smooth rest, on the glassy brook’s face
Alighting sans ripples, their fate in water’s hold:
floating on a mirror, reflecting their past life,
ere being swept by currents, to their next journey’s start…
(11/4/18 - Repost of Ashland Autumn for P contest hosted by Constance la France)
Mystical ghost of night
Of pale death’s milky glow
On sun’s life, contingent
Neon-gray you sketch black
Soothe the belligerent
Mystical ghost of night
How you shine subterfuge!
As the captious eye sees,
dead dreams behoove none
Opal wanes on jet seas...
Mystical ghost of night
Wax with light-avarice!
Mock shadowed reflections,
oft morphing as your form,
on nightshade convictions...
Mystical ghost of night
New moon’s temerity
Sacrosanct nothingness
How you foreshadow Earth
as fried out emptiness
(9/17/2021: '85 Bluewater 51 Willow Berm. Was titled Mystical for M contest by Constance la France)
Despair aught I care, in distraught
adhere I thought.
I fear unsure in revere, insecure of
love immature.
Unfair sincere demure, disdain severe
I incur pain.
Allure in dire devour, deplore I cower
pure desire.
Bizarre amour to perish amiss, ignore I
defer jealous affixed.
Temerity in moral of boredom, surety a quarrel of
Vulnerable Decorum.
You stand here and have the temerity to ask? Demanding words of me.
You must dig those holes pretty deep to bury all your whys and reasons for damaging the mind of me.
You must live your life on the surface of love, too scared to dive right in. You must live a life where half the time you’re scared of what you be.
You think that wounds don’t hurt as scars?
You thought you’d make me cry?
Perhaps one day the sun will shine and cast a different light on you?
Perhaps that light will burn away the rotting hate and fear that lives in you?
The cold you find within this stare in part belongs to you.
The reason I’m silent in its glare is because no more am I your fool.
“The Memoirs of a Cat Lady”
you slinked onto my sunny windowsill
winked with your one good eye
a no-brainer, all in your face, head
saucy marmalade pants
bittersweet No. 1 wins the day,
in my bed
oh to be dominant
in my realm of warmth
once again
Moonlight
calculates the temerity
of a head-over-heels
One-eyed Pirate upstart
heart-claiming
Love Cat
she remembers
shameless,
she silently grins
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
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