—A Cosmography of Wound—
How deep the scar, where starry measures cease,
And sable gulfs unhouse their hoarded fire;
Where suns attenuate, bereft of peace,
And bleed through night the embers of desire;
Each constellation sheds its given name,
And argent heavens fracture into me;
The Milky Way unthreads its vestal flame,
Till blood becomes its dark infinity.
Then bends the Sun, drawn inward through my scar,
Its aureate empire yielding to the night;
Whilst Time lets fall its centuries afar,
And deathless darkness drinks the last of light.
Yet one red pulse persists beneath the scar:
I am the wound by which they learn how far.
.
annnnd
dust'did sand
thuh
fromg hern purty
white
annnnd
untie'did bikini
thuh
fromg hern purty
pink
annnnd
love'did vestal
thuh
fromg hern purty
red
tap
')>
Tell me, Bzou dearest Bzou
Have you found a treat for us today?
I am hungry for a heart,
for mine is dry and shrivelled.
Grandmother dear grandmother
Have I ever let you down?
I have one on a tether
and it is dressed in crimson red.
Is she innocent and pure,
this girl in crimson red?
For only vestal blood
will smooth my aged skin.
She is as white as virgin snow
and walks the woods
With picnic in her arms;
to give to you, I so believe.
Will you be you or you be he
to capture her for me, Bzou?
The woodsman with your charm
or creature that you are?
You know the truth of what you ask
Do not deceive yourself or me.
Your snout is long
your teeth as sharp as mine.
Bring her to me, use your lure
We both desire her in our bed
Our hunger is but one.
Stray her from her path.
Then what remains of her and us
will you be youthful, I replete?
Will we just burn what’s left of her,
then wait awhile, repeat?
You tasted spring’s young almonds green;
sweeter than vestal nectarine
then all your innocence is lost;
forever to the wind is tossed.
The seed you planted long ago;
time will see it ripen and grow;
as the summer sun slow unfolds,
the carapace no longer holds
Fall harvest fruit is eager reaped;
upon a bride and groom are heaped;
Young virgins take them to their bed
to dream, foretell, of whom they wed.
When the end is near, as foretold
and the winter’s dark, bitter cold
makes the future labored to see
each year blossoms the almond tree.
Living Forests and vestal woods are the memory of the planet...
My people walk upon the Earth gently,
respectful of those who walked before
whose atoms mingle in the stardust
sprinkled from shore to shining shore.
My people hold Her sacred,
and cling to a long-chanted prayer
that all who walk upon Her face
will find sacred teachings there.
My people feel Her spiraling rhythms
And Ghost Dance to Her holy hum.
We touch Her face ever gently with
Unsquelched tears of countless sum.
She bows her noble, gray head to acknowledge
The many who have been lost,
and none can count the blessings wasted
of their lives forever and savagely tossed.
She no longer sings of murder.
She longs for quiet and peaceful fires.
Her green and blossoming outstretched arms
Strong now, promise hopeful and lovely spirals.
It is upward from her dust that we must look for peace
And open our heart past hate and vengeance.
Now is our time to dance and welcome back
The sacred Mother of splendid vestal visage.
V I C T O R
Victor, a visionary, who won't vanquish,
Voyaging through virtual veils of a wish,
Very valiant in his virtual venture or quest,
Venerable in his reality & veritable deals.4
His virtual vesture, a verdant shroud,
Vouch safes the virtues of his vestal proud,6
Victorious, he voyages through the void,
Veiling his virtual & very presence, unemployed.
His vivacious voice, a symphony of sense,
Vibrates with visionary intelligence,¹°
Victor's virtual vocabulary, a treasure trove,
Vast & varied, a venting virtues to prove.¹²
In victors realm, despite vices, he reigns supreme,
Vivacious, vibrant, a validated visible gem,
Though Victor's virtuality, a verdant dream,
But in actuality, a veritable victorious realism.¹6
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
FORM: Alliteration/Rhymes
Copyright ©?6th January, 2024.
My dearest, possessing a divine pedigree,
You strive for impeccable integrity.
You shun evil to achieve absolute incorruptibility,
Wherein you will find total tranquility.
I watch as you aim for flawless righteousness,
Admiration grows as you disregard all timelessness.
When you reach for irreproachable honesty,
There is an air about you of complete modesty.
The ease of which it became convincible,
Was that true virtue can be invincible.
It will be invulnerable, what is attained,
And absolutely recoverable what is gained.
You acquire an aura of vestal security,
As your spirit takes on unassailable purity.
James 3 : Verses 17-18 Holy Bible.
17 But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere.
18 Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.
The sentinel sound of a hummingbird brings me back to summer
a time when the grass barely touched the shoots of heaven
and the sky so new was alien to the sun
Pathways were open to souls as they shimmered in the light,
at the threshold of new discoveries.
There I stood within the awesome breath of youth
barefoot, walking on hot stones without a flinch or worry
the entire world was a buzz with vibrancy and sweet delight;
Glass panel memories rev my aging thoughts
I remember yesterday, living outside myself
a spitfire gamine setting fires running wild
Like the wings of that hummingbird I flew into
a primal day as stark as the beautiful petunia's
that bloomed by the bay;
Oh how I recall the momentous beauty of it all
the hummingbird sounds that thrilled,
on that first hot vestal summer day.
Poseidon was a god who loved to Dream;
he, unlike his older brother Hades, and younger Brother Hesus,
began to dream of the World of Oblivion
With his head held high and his bra strap held over his chest,
he would imagine and dream of mermen living under the Sea.
His pores would flatten and his pro maculate discord would ripen
He was, as I would believe, a Vestal Virgin whore, as he masturbates
with those who presume to know him from every angle like his brother, Hesus (Zeus') possession of the mythological, Gandymede and Osiris.
Oh, how many bottomless pits of the ocean did he fathom, did he fathom
Did he uproot, did he uproot?
Fan is
essential ,
the windy foot
that refreshes us...
Alarm clock
natural is
the sunbeam...
that wakes us up...
silently!
Circus
universal, it is
the city street
who makes the party...
permanently
Love consultant
unique, it's
the bridal moon in
vestal truth...
Water park
colossal, it's
the sea in summer...
and your smile attests to it...
Paradise
divine is
the sensory sky
that uplifts, manifests...
Mother of love
unconditional, it's
nature in bloom
that feeds us...
From the beginning
Genesis...!
Lights all
men is
without even taking it out,
Jesus the savior
that redeems us, and
accept us...!
I Admire the poetess
living in openness,
embraced with life
in the middle of the violets
playing with butterflies...
what an enchantment,
what a vestal wonder!
Natural fan
it's the wind,
in a breeze of healthy freshness...
active sunbeam
the soul of the cockerel
bucolic alarm clock
that captive humanity...
counselor of love,
is the vestal moon that
decked in glow,
it's a nuptial foreshadowing...
colossal water park,
is the sea in midsummer,
causing joy
and a lot of emotion... pure
abysmal ecstasy...
sensory paradise
is to contemplate the royal blue day
or the night sky harvested with stars...
Total vibration, it's nature
that when it colors and we
enchants with its beauty... !
Ignition
An abandoned ember will cease to glow.
Its amber rays will fade to gray, while its
Warmth is stolen by the passage of time.
I was an ember extinguished, reduced
To ash which had forgotten the light,
Unconscious to the world which had birthed me.
You were born from an everlasting flame,
Your soul kept alight by the Vestal maids.
The threat of darkness was your urban myth.
What is burned once cannot catch fire again.
I had been reduced to my final form,
Fated to forever forget myself.
Your touch was dawn breaking infinite night.
Your gasoline love saturated my soul,
Filling me to the brim with flammable
Affection, so that I, too, could burn eternal.
Vivianne, Dame du Lac,
Valley Girl? Hardly not. ~
Voiced to some as Nimue,
Valiant knights in her queue,
Vespers on which she’d come,
Viewed as Lancelot’s mum;
Vestal was she. Maiden of yore.
~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Submitted 5/6/21 1
contest: "Pleiades 'V' Contest"
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Result: DSQ because a personal name was used in the title.
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