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I can acomplish anything
in my dreams I forgive you
have slept with one woman
and two older ladies later
surprisingly sweet

charming

you had me for the dessert
after the same aged chest
dune planet was innocent
awry, happy,
subliminal

not occuring

our sensory receptors
need
to be more open

accepting
Nomens as lucid Omens
stars in your eyes and a bright
mass within waves of the mind

germinatrix

sensual aroused awareness
honey. . . your tower seems
like a marvel of a slick bridge
growing inside me

well gourded fortress

silent for many ages,
here, archaic oak doors stand,
imposant, aged by
translucent rains
horsmen, ladies, light
steps, the perfume of ever
crying branches thrown
to the winds of time

even heaven's allured

by this wildest dreams,
oak entering yearns for
a sweet melody,
sound sang by the
horseshoe shaped
~
aum
~~
knock
tock         tock
tomp               tomp
thump               thump
thump               thump


we are rare devotional flowers

growing toward the Sun's love
our curved green bodies are coloured
little skirts, our petal veils listen to every
raindrop's fall. Feel every one
of them heavy light
unbearable
beauty

within awe stricken garden's architecture
~
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic Love
~
i
youth is your neighbour's Bee
hive wax, candle lights, flickering Flame
lovely sorrounding delicate contours
on a pale gently shaped face

ii
thou eyes still shine with
chesnuts burning flambouyant
charcoals, who can lit Free choice
of will and thoughts of Heart

iii
eclipses of centuries covereth
you, waiting for a Cosmic chariot
to take this moonsoon romance forth
holding the Sky's beau crinoline

iv
I feel wurthering imagination
floating and tearing my passion for You
when Thee become Thou in my deepest
love passion taking chapeau off
~
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
~
Poet of love and beauty
 Feb 2015 CMD
Wilfred Owen
We'd found an old Boche dug-out, and he knew,
And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell
Hammered on top, but never quite burst through.
Rain, guttering down in waterfalls of slime,
Kept slush waist-high and rising hour by hour,
And choked the steps too thick with clay to climb.
What murk of air remained stank old, and sour
With fumes of whizz-bangs, and the smell of men
Who'd lived there years, and left their curse in the den,
If not their corpses...


                                    There we herded from the blast
Of whizz-bangs, but one found our door at last,
Buffeting eyes and breath, snuffing the candles,
And thud! flump! thud! down the steep steps came thumping
And sploshing in the flood, deluging muck -
The sentry's body; then his rifle, handles
Of old Boche bombs, and mud in ruck on ruck.
We dredged him up, for killed, until he whined
'O sir, my eyes - I'm blind, - I'm blind, I'm blind!'
Coaxing, I held a flame against his lids
And said if he could see the least blurred light
He was not blind; in time he'd get all right.
'I can't' he sobbed. Eyeballs, huge-bulged like squids',
Watch my dreams still; but I forgot him there
In posting Next for duty, and sending a scout
To beg a stretcher somewhere, and flound'ring about
To other posts under the shrieking air.


                                               *
Those other wretches, how they bled and spewed,
And one who would have drowned himself for good, -
I try not to remember these things now.
Let dread hark back for one word only: how
Half-listening to that sentry's moans and jumps,
And the wild chattering of his broken teeth,
Renewed most horribly whenever crumps
Pummelled the roof and slogged the air beneath, -
Through the dense din, I say, we heard him shout
'I see your lights!' But ours had long died out.
(C) Wilfred Owen
 Feb 2015 CMD
ΟΥΤΙΣ
iii
 Feb 2015 CMD
ΟΥΤΙΣ
iii
so long we spoke
seething with breath
a troubled flutter
of a waxed
hour
pattered my nerves
your pins strike true
precisely placed
in my most
blank regions
why my envy
broke my callous
i cant say

— The End —