sean-fitzpatrick - Hello Poetry

The arms of eternity open, like a sentimental bolero played at some in-between place, they open lazily and incandescently, encircling the comically and silently raging, Poetically, and gently, the phantom draws her wings towards forgetfulness - at the eye of the temple - distant, full of guidance and potential. The profound silence of bitter lives.

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Nov 21, 2024

Nov 21, 2024 at 12:54 PM UTC

11.21.24

The arms of eternity open, like a sentimental bolero played at some in-between place, they open lazily and incandescently, encircling the comically and silently raging, Poetically, and gently, the phantom draws her wings towards forgetfulness - at the eye of the temple - distant, full of guidance and potential. The profound silence of bitter lives.

13

Visages perch like leaves offered to the sun, as we lie below, sleeping in a stream, toe-to-toe, our gills inundated with burning. A half-light permits itself to be shown. Its voice is used. Sea monkeys may sing their fragments. Their dreams are sharp coral that drag power from the broken body of a shore. They are in sin - a thing owned so unseriously. With the setting sun, the great aftermath looks on in leisure, and as a slave to the mystique: time’s wide course does not return nor continue accordingly.

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Nov 9, 2024

Nov 9, 2024 at 8:37 PM UTC

11.8.24

Visages perch like leaves offered to the sun, as we lie below, sleeping in a stream, toe-to-toe, our gills inundated with burning. A half-light permits itself to be shown. Its voice is used. Sea monkeys may sing their fragments. Their dreams are sharp coral that drag power from the broken body of a shore. They are in sin - a thing owned so unseriously. With the setting sun, the great aftermath looks on in leisure, and as a slave to the mystique: time’s wide course does not return nor continue accordingly.

15

Standing conifers girdle them down to recumbent silence, their eyes-formed-plates laterally diminishing in eighths, They wait cross legged, sheltered by palms of rock and shattered limbs of lost parts, their minds slowly wandering, wrapping up the sky and up to rest in sky They are dreaming of singing, dancing so loudly in the cold and new night, If you are worn, take musk upon your hands and onto moss-ridden stones throw upon yourself the swell and look, it is large and empty, a disruption of rock breaking in the air It is: root splits stone twining dirt into valley covering, splitting pine into pine and path into path, cutting and wandering by the foot, A microcosm but repeating itself repeating itself, Disrupted, and if upside down, falling into sky.

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Oct 22, 2024

Oct 22, 2024 at 11:49 PM UTC

10.22.24

Standing conifers girdle them down to recumbent silence, their eyes-formed-plates laterally diminishing in eighths, They wait cross legged, sheltered by palms of rock and shattered limbs of lost parts, their minds slowly wandering, wrapping up the sky and up to rest in sky They are dreaming of singing, dancing so loudly in the cold and new night, If you are worn, take musk upon your hands and onto moss-ridden stones throw upon yourself the swell and look, it is large and empty, a disruption of rock breaking in the air It is: root splits stone twining dirt into valley covering, splitting pine into pine and path into path, cutting and wandering by the foot, A microcosm but repeating itself repeating itself, Disrupted, and if upside down, falling into sky.

34

Leave the clean up to the professionals, the conspiracies to the airs. The dance macabre, music all-strutting a life-expression, worn in the ingratiating shimmer off Time’s surface, bright as a smile and decent as a memory. Like a worn blade incapable of cutting so much of what is needed of cloth, and leaving only ruin in its wake. Just so, matter turns to finer matter, and of the, well, supposed immaterial, the to be not-to-be-so abstract that-is-a-life, a worn-to-pieces quilt of finer thread than dust, ambivalently contrasting in the light of: what is useful, what is not, loves me, loves me not,

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Jan 16, 2024

Jan 16, 2024 at 11:06 AM UTC

1.16.24

Leave the clean up to the professionals, the conspiracies to the airs. The dance macabre, music all-strutting a life-expression, worn in the ingratiating shimmer off Time’s surface, bright as a smile and decent as a memory. Like a worn blade incapable of cutting so much of what is needed of cloth, and leaving only ruin in its wake. Just so, matter turns to finer matter, and of the, well, supposed immaterial, the to be not-to-be-so abstract that-is-a-life, a worn-to-pieces quilt of finer thread than dust, ambivalently contrasting in the light of: what is useful, what is not, loves me, loves me not,

27

Alchemical winds guide matter, groaning against the firmament in its transmigration: foundations of the world. Such madness; as a heavenly body turns its face, revealing and concealing at once; as a fruit fly clones its black cloak under the plain daylight; as a hat lies upon a coat rack, and haunts us at all ungodly hours of the night. A ghost! - one that we mistake for whole. Such empty evil as a vessel that consumes others like itself cannot be a sin greater than creation. And as all things cast shadows in the light, so walks a shadow that some call a friend - a visitor born of the same fate as your own!

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Dec 19, 2023

Dec 19, 2023 at 7:56 PM UTC

12.19.23

Alchemical winds guide matter, groaning against the firmament in its transmigration: foundations of the world. Such madness; as a heavenly body turns its face, revealing and concealing at once; as a fruit fly clones its black cloak under the plain daylight; as a hat lies upon a coat rack, and haunts us at all ungodly hours of the night. A ghost! - one that we mistake for whole. Such empty evil as a vessel that consumes others like itself cannot be a sin greater than creation. And as all things cast shadows in the light, so walks a shadow that some call a friend - a visitor born of the same fate as your own!

29

Illustrious visage offering everything of your spectral body up to the eyes of mortals. A revenant memory, poetry incarnate, a heart of bliss testifying through simple presence the adversity of life in its monstrous majesty. It is you who guides us from one hollow to the next, you who tells a secret, when cradled by the void.

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Nov 26, 2023

Nov 26, 2023 at 9:26 PM UTC

11.26.23 - Poem for the Moon

Illustrious visage offering everything of your spectral body up to the eyes of mortals. A revenant memory, poetry incarnate, a heart of bliss testifying through simple presence the adversity of life in its monstrous majesty. It is you who guides us from one hollow to the next, you who tells a secret, when cradled by the void.

15

Streetlights glide past on a Tuesday night, so alone, and the air, cold wet. Your faces form a phase like a string of pearls, occurrences distributed in space, Watching mournful over the deserted pedestrian causeways eliciting sonderous ghosts, Leaving voicemails for romances that never happened. And selfishly, I presume a perspective, Or really, I dream up of a place to meet you, like an alleyway (I am a **** in this instance), Or the leftovers of a wedding eagerly awaiting the clean-up crew.

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Nov 26, 2023

Nov 26, 2023 at 9:02 PM UTC

11.26.23

Streetlights glide past on a Tuesday night, so alone, and the air, cold wet. Your faces form a phase like a string of pearls, occurrences distributed in space, Watching mournful over the deserted pedestrian causeways eliciting sonderous ghosts, Leaving voicemails for romances that never happened. And selfishly, I presume a perspective, Or really, I dream up of a place to meet you, like an alleyway (I am a **** in this instance), Or the leftovers of a wedding eagerly awaiting the clean-up crew.

18

There is another gravity which falls into the stars, whose weightlessness enables the tendrils of space to abound, whose blackness befits the shadows cast by needling trees, a circumnavigation brought about by ease

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Nov 22, 2023

Nov 22, 2023 at 3:29 PM UTC

11.22.23

There is another gravity which falls into the stars, whose weightlessness enables the tendrils of space to abound, whose blackness befits the shadows cast by needling trees, a circumnavigation brought about by ease

8

Mother Mary with her tilted head suggests, with her Posture, the light that illuminates her shawl. Like a leaf tilted by the weight of water, the sky demands Enough and speaks, easy words. For a time, when the world is silent, not even a mystic experience could perfume the inventory of delight. Even the light is hollow bubbles.

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Oct 12, 2023

Oct 12, 2023 at 1:11 PM UTC

10.12.28

Mother Mary with her tilted head suggests, with her Posture, the light that illuminates her shawl. Like a leaf tilted by the weight of water, the sky demands Enough and speaks, easy words. For a time, when the world is silent, not even a mystic experience could perfume the inventory of delight. Even the light is hollow bubbles.

13

Blood in the blue, a direct proclamation of fate, guided like an arrow, an actor, or oneself- a mere impulse-desire in the velvet ruins of eternity. Temporally displaced, The hidden moment of a lifetime’s innocent desire to become nothing more than this, that is here, a dream working on the edge of town, an elephants delight, a signal flare on a dark sea nesting quietly underneath an endless, black sky.

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Aug 28, 2023

Aug 28, 2023 at 8:47 PM UTC

8.28.23

Blood in the blue, a direct proclamation of fate, guided like an arrow, an actor, or oneself- a mere impulse-desire in the velvet ruins of eternity. Temporally displaced, The hidden moment of a lifetime’s innocent desire to become nothing more than this, that is here, a dream working on the edge of town, an elephants delight, a signal flare on a dark sea nesting quietly underneath an endless, black sky.

13