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 Dec 2016
beth fwoah dream
life and its glitters, the boredoms that seek to write
the inspirations of death with its healing joys
and life with its uttermost sorrows

i, a fractured sky, disinclined to move,
divorced from shadow and voice
unwoken by the mild pull of the earth

an old romance of ears and eyes, yellow and round,
heavens-hopes the goals of a lifetime
waiting innocently for the rain.

i waited and the shadows of the earth
grew long until they were armies
sleeping near the bleached rocks

believing they were the blanketing dark,
breathing beside autumn’s haikus of
slumber the sharp fall of love, the

intense tide of low grass and high wall.

dreams rushing like princely streams
a beginning of clouds, clouds of black air
sweeping clear, like valleys of the wild

a wilderness so tender it could speak,
where the mighty waves froze the shore-line
with the hints of winter's first kiss

and the magics of the stars cried into fire,
not knowing the flower-beds or the laughter
or the crazy tears of a humble man.

love poured sapphires from its streams
glass-houses of light, where the oceany
air believed in vertical caves, monstrous

caverns of hopes and dreams, marble
statues with broken jaws, unearthly
branches that rose like strange trees

combing the wind into tangles of tide,
hollow night, with its breathing and
mights, its desires, its poetry of mind.
56.
all the novels, and romance,

volume two to forty,

all others being

fakes

that need dusting.



the clocks are silent.

pink sands of time

stand still.



the glass is clouded here.





sbm.
 Dec 2016
ajit peter
A tribute to a master

Auguries of Innocence
By William Blake

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour
A Robin Red breast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage
A Dove house filld with Doves & Pigeons
Shudders Hell thr' all its regions
A dog starvd at his Masters Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State
A Horse misusd upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fibre from the Brain does tear
A Skylark wounded in the wing
A Cherubim does cease to sing
The Game **** clipd & armd for fight
Does the Rising Sun affright
Every Wolfs & Lions howl
Raises from Hell a Human Soul
The wild deer, wandring here & there
Keeps the Human Soul from Care
The Lamb misusd breeds Public Strife
And yet forgives the Butchers knife
The Bat that flits at close of Eve
Has left the Brain that wont Believe
The Owl that calls upon the Night
Speaks the Unbelievers fright
He who shall hurt the little Wren
Shall never be belovd by Men
He who the Ox to wrath has movd
Shall never be by Woman lovd
The wanton Boy that kills the Fly
Shall feel the Spiders enmity
He who torments the Chafers Sprite
Weaves a Bower in endless Night
The Catterpiller on the Leaf
Repeats to thee thy Mothers grief
**** not the Moth nor Butterfly
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh
He who shall train the Horse to War
Shall never pass the Polar Bar
The Beggars Dog & Widows Cat
Feed them & thou wilt grow fat
The Gnat that sings his Summers Song
Poison gets from Slanders tongue
The poison of the Snake & Newt
Is the sweat of Envys Foot
The poison of the Honey Bee
Is the Artists Jealousy
The Princes Robes & Beggars Rags
Are Toadstools on the Misers Bags
A Truth thats told with bad intent
Beats all the Lies you can invent
It is right it should be so
Man was made for Joy & Woe
And when this we rightly know
Thro the World we safely go
Joy & Woe are woven fine
A Clothing for the soul divine
Under every grief & pine
Runs a joy with silken twine
The Babe is more than swadling Bands
Throughout all these Human Lands
Tools were made & Born were hands
Every Farmer Understands
Every Tear from Every Eye
Becomes a Babe in Eternity
This is caught by Females bright
And returnd to its own delight
The Bleat the Bark Bellow & Roar
Are Waves that Beat on Heavens Shore
The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath
Writes Revenge in realms of Death
The Beggars Rags fluttering in Air
Does to Rags the Heavens tear
The Soldier armd with Sword & Gun
Palsied strikes the Summers Sun
The poor Mans Farthing is worth more
Than all the Gold on Africs Shore
One Mite wrung from the Labrers hands
Shall buy & sell the Misers Lands
Or if protected from on high
Does that whole Nation sell & buy
He who mocks the Infants Faith
Shall be mockd in Age & Death
He who shall teach the Child to Doubt
The rotting Grave shall neer get out
He who respects the Infants faith
Triumphs over Hell & Death
The Childs Toys & the Old Mans Reasons
Are the Fruits of the Two seasons
The Questioner who sits so sly
Shall never know how to Reply
He who replies to words of Doubt
Doth put the Light of Knowledge out
The Strongest Poison ever known
Came from Caesars Laurel Crown
Nought can Deform the Human Race
Like to the Armours iron brace
When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow
To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow
A Riddle or the Crickets Cry
Is to Doubt a fit Reply
The Emmets Inch & Eagles Mile
Make Lame Philosophy to smile
He who Doubts from what he sees
Will neer Believe do what you Please
If the Sun & Moon should Doubt
Theyd immediately Go out
To be in a Passion you Good may Do
But no Good if a Passion is in you
The ***** & Gambler by the State
Licencd build that Nations Fate
The Harlots cry from Street to Street
Shall weave Old Englands winding Sheet
The Winners Shout the Losers Curse
Dance before dead Englands Hearse
Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born
Every Morn and every Night
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to Endless Night
We are led to Believe a Lie
When we see not Thro the Eye
Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night
When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light
God Appears & God is Light
To those poor Souls who dwell in Night
But does a Human Form Display
To those who Dwell in Realms of day
 Dec 2016
Kurt Philip Behm
I want to die
  in the winter,
  —when it’s cold

With the reality
  of being alive, stronger,
  —than all fantasy of being

Where branches
  break crisply,
  —like a soul in decision

And the wind carrying away
  on its distance,
  —all strength and pain

I want to die
  in the winter,
—when its cold

(Chicago Illinois: July, 1977)
 Dec 2016
Seher Seven
sometimes its hard
to remember the truth
since the truth is only
the present.
I can see how we
easily
lose grip of the memories.

regardless,
we are made of
star dust.
rock dust.
gold flecks.
titanium specks.

Dust to Dust
learn to trust in
the magic of things.

I've spent years in the desert
in dust storms
and in the heat.
the plants of the
desert
amaze me.
their leaves, so tiny.
resource management
is the skill of the desert.

when those haboobs
roll in, the world
goes dark.
(at least over the desert)
if we weren't in our little boxes,
our eyes would
burn from our own particles.
burn to see
the phenomenon the brain
coaxes us to believe.

Dust to Dust
learn to trust in
the magic of things.

we are star dust
learn to trust
in the magic of things.
106.

we talked of hedges, again,
for these are not
vertical.

we walked the dazzled mirror,

crept.

small and slightly curious ,
is an artist in residence, here?

glass housed and labelled
ten years ago.

this house is closed, yet
will open at 10 am.

sbm
 Dec 2016
beth fwoah dream
whispers of sea
where the cold storm
gathers in the grey
sky, and the waves
pound the shore
running back
pushing down
arching like
fiery cats,
the ache of the storm
a tearful cloud
the song of
a poem.
thank you to all my friends at this website for their continued support of one of the things i love in this world which is poetry. i've only just realised this is the daily today and i just wish i had more spare time at the moment to write and review. thank you again to everyone.
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