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Dec 2014 · 502
Woebegone
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
Vines of persistence
wrap around
to squeeze
me tightly,
choking and cloaking
my existence from the divine
shining light streams.

From the depths
of what I have left,
I leave thee
this sublime kindly
writing, to let
it be told
over to you that I fear
this nadir confining
so inviting. For that which
was a welcome
embrace has become
a peril that I find
frightening.

An irascible
beast tears me away
from my rapture, it's claws
ripping in their tightening.

Good Knight!        I scream.

Virago, you must let me go!

Don't you know
these roots hold
me here and try to imprison
my very soul?
Are you aware that
I've always been
restless in this deed ,
at least until my
movement ceased, grown
weary by the cold?

Oh, to be as a tree petrified a thousand
years ago. Yes, tenfold of a deep century ago.

What woe!      What woe!

Well then, just consume me, it's thy selfish
need to grow, despite what it means to me,
a descent into a place so low; and you know,
even tho it's cold, viscous words can burn
like an internal sea of hellish fire: pain
overwhelms me, but a morbid curiosity
still fans this desire.

God, save me from the mire!
                      God, let her have remorse!

Soon tentacles will protrude
into my wan corpse
-pulling me into a crevasse-
which is a pit in the fabric that my
body no sooner than distorts; and as
swift as this with a vacuous kiss
you'll steal my mass,
as brains for one will
become
the main course.
Written in 2012
Dec 2014 · 422
Marked By Fire
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
Ah, she is false!
Her moniker in all after years
does sadly me repulse,
for she hath gone crook
beneath a screen of smoke,
shrewd, contemptuously bold
and tempestuous
in oath, unquiet,
disengaged in underlying
faculty for faith,
in influence unhappy,
intolerant to disgrace,
a soul marked by fire,
which moving
into a new condition
could ultimately
result in
a
giving in
to attrition,
perhaps then
she will be delighted
in again.
Written last year about my ****** and negative ex.
Dec 2014 · 451
Springtime Burning
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
Just 'neath the frosty garb          of a shimmering hoary dew, a

picturesque meadow lies     swaying in the waning starlight

before the eyes of a sweet       and fair maiden, a dervish

whirling and singing her diaphanous      solo to the budding

flowers that sprout upon the verdant     landscape, unripened

and impatient to soft petals thrusting     outward and becoming

saturated in deep purple, blue, and yellow-gold       at the suns

ascent. Up above, a tempera image      now slowly appears from

behind        the curtain of twilights intermission-it is the

reddening energized sky      of a new day dawning -and the

morning rays       of light glare, bathing her, the admirer

enclosed by the horizon,     in the warmth and fineness of the

season.
Dec 2014 · 403
Eighty-Sixed
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
Do mind the obsidian stone

crooning a smooth paean

as it rushes thru the surging wind,

still radiating the warmness

it absorbed upon the supine terrain,

but has now been heaved

indomitably by the Dragon-Witch

into the reddish mist

and forthwith

to descend

to the oceanic depths

in vain

-proving her disdain

as it splashes into the ravine.
Dec 2014 · 518
SENTINEL MOON
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
The night has nothing to reveal to me
that is more ornate than
the fullness of her moon.

I know the chill that vitiates the warmth
of day, which ne'er
comes too soon.

Freely I feel the glow of that vigilant
orb upon my cheek,
as electric as a storm,
as strong as gravity.

And desolately I lie awake to think of
her watchful ray, lolling then reflecting
upon the face of a pure and docile lake.

That gaper gal dances immutably
as an aftereffect of the glaring
on gentle rhythmic waves,
where winds also turn about and stir
the night clouds that seem to
attract my gaze.

The sparkling stars are opulent
and full of verve and grace.
The croaking frogs are confident
as they move about this place.

And if you listen to the night
-as gently it doth fall-
it will speak to you
in the subtle tones
of crickets chirping loudly,
and owls hooting proudly
while children scuttle home.

Perhaps I dream too much after all...
but I hold high that sentinel moon!
Dec 2014 · 997
A Poem Within A Poem
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
softly I SPEAK in sweetest
whispers TO THEE, fondly,
truly. AND devoted am I to prove
that I love THEE by Jove!

the universe IS HER, center stage
above AND below.
for SHE IS THEE, my little dove
snowy white AND pure,
her beauty to be admired.
she is the one TO WHOM I REFER. with glee.

I ask God, COULD SHE BE with me
for AS MUCH as an eternity?
She has wrecked INTO ME so I am a wreck.
It seems AS I AM INTO HER? We shall see.
If yes AND IF SO, I want her
to respect THEN THIS PLEA FROM ME which comes sadly
now WITH WOEFUL  but happy
falling TEAR, hopefully my
affections WILL NOT GO TOO LONG being that
call that goes UNANSWERED HERE, that would be
regrettable.
I pray FOR HER SILENCE to go away
perhaps because it HURTS to be forgettable.
Yet it BUT IS what it is.
Such beauty is RARE. I must admit.

SO FAR AWAY!       YET SO NEAR!

We are where we are
BUT I WISH YOU WERE NEARER, DEAR!

BECAUSE it is in
EACH DOMINION
that ON SUCH OCCASION
you MUST UNWIND, your soul
SO AS TO
soley BE  a sole
fragrance that is REBORN IN THE MORNING SHINE, this
day and the next, RETURNING AS GLORIOUS
AND AS FRESH AS THE NEW DAY SKY, that is my wish.
AND you
THEREUPON SHOULDST CARRY ON upon
a dream WITHOUT IMPERFECT MOAN
OR a mightier
SIGH. of loveliness.

I PLEAD WITH THEE TO MANUMIT
YOUR TIGHTENED CLASP
THAT BINDS, you sadly in slavery.
Now REST YOUR WEARY
HEAD A BIT ON MINE,
AND EASE INTO PLEASANT REVERIES. with only me.

AFTER ALL, THE DUSK you trust
HAS COME rightly
TO GIVE REST TO THEE,
AND I AM but what I am,
YOURS AND YOURS AM I nightly
**-I AM RESTFUL SLEEP.
Read the all caps in bold first, then read the poem as a whole.
Dec 2014 · 180
Wow!!
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
((((((                           ))))))                    
        -   -                         -       -                            
       (•)  (•)                    ­(• )     ( •)        
                                                                ­                      
              >                               >
            O                                   O
Nov 2014 · 513
An Inspiration
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Hail the hale day,



enjoy each,



and in Joy stay.
Nov 2014 · 802
Asomatous Embrace
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Yea, ye shalt ne'er be discarded

such as is aged linen lace,

rather ye shalt e'er be safeguarded

insofar as is my place.

Thou shalt see auroral fire

and eavesdrop on the surf,

and embody thy soul

with another soul

so as to blaze

with

e'en brighter

worth.
Nov 2014 · 946
Addressed To Your Attention
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
O' bride-to-be,
delicately pleasing to the ear
and eye,
in good humor
and kindliness steep,
and a particular illumination
will flow
from your bright eyes
-even when the sun
is stationed opposite me
and the moon is still
in a
stage of infancy...
where
my affections sweet,
which are in defiance
of the night that has fallen,
will e'er be:
and I will remain your
romantic suitor
calling up to your window ledge,
all-in for all eternity
if we do so pledge.
Fantasy.
Nov 2014 · 469
Innocence
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Moving slowly in artistic Excellence,
Like clouds in the distance,
With embellishments
Such as sequins,
Eloquence comes in my Presence
With surprising elements
Of elegance.


Thus soft sweetness
-Full-flavored ripeness-
Received fondest sentiments
Because I focused
With
My senses undiminished
And experienced.

I haven't an impaired sense
Of these moments,
Not one single hence
Or thence,
And I never condensed
A solitary instance
Of a meaningful circumstance.

However Indulgence
-Brethren to Tolerance-
Had no patience
For her innocence
By consequence
Of her silence.
Nov 2014 · 536
Bittersweet
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
I   do  not ofttimes descry such rhymes as thine,

lest I should divest all remembrance

of the inequity of tragedy and aching anxiety,

and thence my wretchedness wouldn't digress in tearshed.


And if my misfortunes can't cleanse my substance

in my weeping, mourning this bittersweet feeling,

then when at my last gasp of breath I'd be distressed

if devoid of the joy that you employ in your poem.
Nov 2014 · 556
Predator Or Prey?
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Incalcuable wolves in viscious hunger long in darkness
and savagely rove the land for prey, their perverse
fangs gripping and ripping in circumstances of Love!

And to ye blood red and bell-shaped victims, the quarry
of Temptation, indentured to realize days of sacrilege,
all in a detestable binge of Lust; ye must be dismally fond of tyrannical pain, by virtue of not merely playing, but also being
the game.
Nov 2014 · 460
Connected Thoughts
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
The winter of 1885 was inhospitable and   u
                                                              ­                     n
                                                               ­                  r
                                                               ­                     e
                                          ­                                             f
                                                               ­                             i
                                  ­                                                        n
                                                               ­                           e
                                                               ­                      d
                                                           ­                    e    
                                                           ­                 i      
..and in the blah unihabitated lands I  d

                                                           ­             
  ....with only God The Father by my s
                                                               ­       i
                                                        ­                 d
                                                               ­              e
                                                           ­             m
                                                  ­                    i
......And now I reside in the midst of T
              
                                                                ­            
  ...my poetical device in a brilliant r
                                                               ­     h
                                                          ­             y
                                                               ­            m
                                                               ­                e              
                                             ­                            n
                                                               ­      i    
      ....is soon to be realized line by l
Nov 2014 · 1.3k
Reassurance
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
The harsh wee calls
Of whip-poor-wills
On the night wind travels
Telling me how it feels**
        *-to be
Nov 2014 · 712
Impatiently Waiting
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
A sad sad notion is held captive in my encephalon,
My island prison known as the brain,
Which is in the upper echelon
Of every vital *****.

Despite my determined mental exertion
Towards this difficult action,
Still on the impenetrable question
I stall;

And my poor dumb cranium
Does richly smart in frustration,
And my apertures of vision
Are filled with tears yet to halt.

And even if I one day straighten
The crooked mark out,
I am left then at a loss for the answer
That I want to gain right now.
Nov 2014 · 670
Quote of the Day
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
"Fearless flights of the imagination
do exalt my spiritual vitality
and this reduces the coarseness
           of my character."*      
                                              ­          -J.L. Cantore
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
ohlil'elf I SPEAK magictricity
            boastsevenafter manyayear                    
                myluv TO THEE, 2b a dynamo
myheritage isasoft taleincandy apple gold
AND  THEE IS HER,  AND SHE   IS THEE, dirtdiggerdigup edgars poems; AND TO W H O  M   I  REFER.

andso COULD SHE BE oncemine
                                   protectherfromAS MUCH damage
as oncewas INTO ME itseems
AS I AM INTO HER?
we'll see
AND IF SO,  THEN THIS PLEA  FROM ME WITH   W  O  E  F  U  L  
    rocket TEAR,
                   stars WILL NOT GO TOO LONG moon
ringing UNANSWERED HERE, opalstone
iou FOR HER SILENCE HURTS,  BUT IS  inpearly gems
 R     A     R     E.

benfranklin deadseafrom SO FAR AWAY!  acrimsonsky and YET SO NEAR! even tiny bugs heedseen

we arewherewe are
  BUT I WISH YOU WERE NEARER, DEAR! indialogue
love-in-a-mist
lone BECAUSE stars
by  EACH DOMINION dawns
early ON SUCH OCCASION light
silver MUST UNWIND, streak
bombs SO AS TO burst
solely BE a sole
redredrosy  
heaven REBORN IN THE MORNING SHINE, sent
                                   RETURNING AS GLORIOUS and
mighty AND AS FRESH AS THE NEW DAY SKY, might he
repent
once AND THEREUPON SHOULDST CARRY ON upon
adream WITHOUT IMPERFECT MOAN OR a my tier
luving SIGH. ofluv

fortunate I  PLEAD WITH THEE TO MANUMIT cookie
wrench YOUR TIGHTENED CLASP chromium
calcium THAT BINDS, petalstems

ouija  heArts knoweth
asdf REST fdsa
zxcv YOUR WEARY vcxz
lkjh HEAD A BIT ON MINE, hjkl
mnbv AND EASE INTO PLEASANT REVERIES.  vbnm
yeseth                                         ­                            noeth
isitasif or asis youwillhaveme
oh AFTER ALL, THE DUSK HAS COME TO GIVE REST TO THEE, to all
pay AND I AM YOURS AND YOURS AM I  notmuchattention
to me yet
openmetoyour -I AM RESTFUL SLEEP. interpretation
Read the bold print first
read the lower case print next
finally, read it as a whole
a whole lot of mumbo jumbles!
Nov 2014 · 375
Sure Uncertainties
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
This
affair of my heart
and soul

has been extraordinary,
            yet subtle.

             Though anything is possible,

this aspiration lingers              and teeters

upon                   the                 impossible.


This little trial                                  may manifest
into trouble...

but, Oh! splendid is her divine     pageantry

-and she is            truly an intellectual!


Could thee
                               intimidate me,

Surely it is probable,

in consequence of the fact that
                                                     despite all

of their                        tinsel,
                                          to her,          I find some angels

to       be     in         their   
    beauty                 and          aim      unequal.
Nov 2014 · 400
A Lesson In Fluid Dynamics
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Ah, ye much loved cherished treasures,
                   prized but not  possessions,
know full well that in the heat of passion,
                  the claret of man's vital chambers
steals away to our sensate
pleasure centers;
and are sent away from the hub of common senses
-so endeth here the lesson.
Nov 2014 · 488
By Process of Elimination
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Float thy thoughts of me upon an electric sea streaming,                
thy warm memories splashing into existence by rippling waves,    
and brought by thought into untouchable being,                                
or else to head for yawning graves.                                                      
Bear in mind the day mayst be coming when all life                          
is but a forgetful dreaming;                                                        ­              
and I wonder if I wilt be alive
in yours upcoming                                
or just a *casualty in the piling wreckage.
Nov 2014 · 283
Long Shot
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
She sat across from me
many years away she did seem
Time and Space still commingling
and once thought by me to be conspiring
to keep us a world apart.


Helpless was I in speech,
or naught had I the words to speak,
to this angel amongst the millions, one individually unique.
A falling star from the heavens, shrinking as she streaked
across the sky in many diadems, singing like an Old World lark.


Might I drink of your glass where it is sparkling,
I brought myself to ask finally.
The kinetic bubbles are tickling
the senses with emotions so sweet
as they pop under my nose sprightly
in the candlelight that is shining
thru the unfurled dark.

Instead she offered me her eyes innocently,
two clear craters full of life indeed,
they danced in the dim moonlight that evening
and revealed a guiltless smile within me
upon the release from Grief that she was offering
as an escape from my conservative soul now set free.
Thru Space and Time is now flying
Cupid's hurled dart.
Nov 2014 · 258
Simply Everything
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
More than charitable in my piercing passion, yet she sighs.

As for me, for now it is as in brighter years, and wilt be forevermore,

That I do so fall hard for her words each and ev'ry night

And let in the charming winds thru windows on the shore.


What have I but her if so? What has she that torments me?



The night whispered softly as it was in the know....

"Simply everything."
Nov 2014 · 480
Steep Steps
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
I
  can
        barely
                  hear
                         the
                               soft
                                     muted
                                                 patter
                                                          ­  of
                                                                her
                                                                 delicate
                                                        ­                  footfall
                                      ­                                              upon
                                                                ­                          these
                                 ­                                                                s­teep
                                                            ­                                          steps
Nov 2014 · 1.0k
Making The Bold
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
In unconventional form my thoughts are not restrained,
nor is my curious charm, for neither shalt be tamed,
and those unchained thoughts fairer are
when incongruently arranged; and wilt be perceived by
sights power and the apprehension gained.

Therefore, against all burden I resist, and readily carry the
suppleness of my worthy bearing
-here where I literally speak no words in a
wordplay tryst unerring.
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
This is the springtime of my loving,
the second season I am to know.
You are the sunlight in my growing,
so little warmth I knew before.
It isn't hard to feel me glowing,
I watched the fire that grew so low.

It is the summer of my smiles
-flee from me Keepers of the Gloom.
Speak to me only with your eyes,
it is to you I give this tune.
It isn't hard to recognize,
these things are clear to all from
time to time.


Talk     Talk


I felt the coldness of my winter,
I never thought it would ever go.
I cursed the gloom that set upon us,
but I know that I love you so.


These are the seasons of my emotions
and like the winds they rise and fall.
This is the wonder of devotion,
I see the torch we all must hold.
This is the mystery of the quotient,
upon us all a little rain must fall.
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
The supposed inner aspect of me
was at once revealed by a rapid tongue.
Though she did prevaricate
in far off wildernesses by the sea, she
went yet further,
failing to sink it to a murmur
before witnesses witless, senseless, and dumb.

Reprehending and upending,
then withdrawing into
an extraordinary depth behind the sun,
burning the candle now at both ends,
but with less intensity I suspect, going on and on;
and by slinky tactics wept
as she elaborately embellished
upon the dark matter of treacherous
in-depth memories grown out of each one,
but inept was the effect upon
thee, the clueless dunce

-but I too was once upon a time twice a pawn in her stunts!
Nov 2014 · 397
Opening Up Is Hard
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
A lake of tears lies beneath many with perfect
transparence,
so they face a shorter sentence-for visible symptoms
makes
for simpler repairs-leaving one wondering
at
the lack of animation in my condition,
no
vestiges are there in it's undetectable track,
a
pool deeper and unyielding that
is
gaining height
but
no undulating ripples that betray
the
true aspect.


There is too much misery in this place,
and
so the layman could not survey this without
the
piercing gaze of a most penetrating eye;
remembrances
concealed and unfit to agitate or
attempt
to heal by and by.

Well inward lies the infection,
so
overwhelming crowds do not belong in
on
my confession.
Nov 2014 · 374
Legacy of Humanity
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
All coveted gladsomeness is near it's end,
and from all it's foolish manifestations
I must refrain.
Despite this I do offer something of my intimacy,
without frustrations or complaint;

my legacy to come before my decadence,
not after,
(tho I am without fortune in even this regard.)

I give of myself freely
for I know generous equivalence
to such an award is given thereafter, and without
restraint.

It will not be just a reward,
but a just reward.

Blessed am I in my unfaded attitude,
for I have discovered how to
gaze on attributes,
not thru my old insensate reveries,
but after personal growth
-despite hearing the defeatists scholarly jokes-
those remorseless platitudes,
unjust whisperings on
the philosophies
of human constructs and concerns
throughout history;

these meandering mortals
and their mutterings then to scatter thru the great hall!

So be it so, I will be understanding, cordial.
After all, I still have to undergo the passive experience,
to go on examining the concrete nature
of this thingness in awe
of a heightened certainty
where esteem and pride must be earned by all,

a sense inspiring of something far better,
a spirit untied, unfettered,
is that impulse of the will that urges humanity on
by strong moral pressure.
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Ruptured heart does not want to in this heed.
You've already gone so far away
and even echoes have ceased to return
my deserted screams .

I'm reduced to a trip to Tabula Rasa
and back with nothing, nothing in between.

And if my slate could be wiped pure and clean
you still to me would more mean.

Oh, what agony!          Oh, what pain!

Do you think you could forgive me
for letting you break my heart
again?
Nov 2014 · 341
Tribute
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
The eternal source of brilliancy is provided the province of

thought  as it cycles thru the organized conscience which you

might ought come to know by it's role of a being that's being

rolled into one, a sole entity with a constant vibrancy that

Genius lent, wherefrom laborers working with hidden aims

and methods can cause dissent amid the source if not well

done: but the tribute paid by a splendid poem repays the
loan without penalties,
( or punishment.)
Nov 2014 · 543
To My Eldest Son
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
We all slowly vanish from that hour of life when we are young,
a time thereupon
when we might feel immune to what has not yet become.
Those days when we never see Death as our lives among,
thinking our own mortality to be quite under our thumb
-just because we would bemoan
our contrite song if left unsung;
and when it's no longer thinkable that our maturity has downright come
-with the sum of our years being shy of fourteen and one-
then you would have a right man become,
my firstborn and least eremite-like son.
Nov 2014 · 244
The Chase
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
The instinct to nurture a desire with anticipation,
cultivating it with a natural tendency towards care and affection,
proves that a distinct need for happiness exists, but might also provide injury.

Be that as it may, I bid you to stay true to your expectations if you fail,
and not be a prisoner to a dead-end destiny.

Summon the strength of inimitable motivation, and Success may itself avail, at least that is the indication of history.
Nov 2014 · 283
Halloween Night
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Where the hushed
august moment
marries night to
day, a frightening
thing did take place;
thru this house's empty
space, skimmed a most
morose ghost,
and gazed in
upon your face!
Nov 2014 · 1.0k
Silently Still
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Silently still was the dawdling in dawn,
it dallied slowly as the tremulous air was stunned,
but that air still pervaded with an influence of an expressive moan
in quality and tone;
rare, soft, delicate, and of a certain air all her own.

Her hand, the wind in a mermaid's golden hair,
the subtle sunrays began to glisten with an olden care:


and all assurance is on that the dayshore's thus begun,
unfolding like a whisper in the va~por~ous sun.
Nov 2014 · 215
Dead To Her
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
My heart has been made harder,
that ***** of mine which I had to barter,
that part of me that at a time had been an
inviolable origin of gentle utterance,
reflecting bright moving points of light divine,
and made of true substance.

But in ev'ry sense I am one who has become most poor.
Without a home, without a cent, alive in Him, yet dead to her.
Nov 2014 · 684
Far From Me, Far From Her
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
I am given to an unfamiliar direction,
disturbed into one in need, by confession,
of sympathetic sorrow, and her fond affection.


Yet I was left to fall to ruin in a mode, a condition
of the great and hapless misery of this wan dejection,
by the one whose sweet tenderness once was unquestioned.


Her lovingness by no thoughts is considered to be any more.
She became a shadowy wretch that was long ago and once before
a primary source to my poor crying heart's deep and ever endless store.


To my heart's succor she could not allot a smidgen more,
because I lost my way by way of a muse whose virtue was pure,
and I was lying within my secret hideaway far from me, far from her.
She and her refer to my ex .
Also, this was a longer poem, but it began to have an irregular meter,
So I will write a new poem with the left-overs.
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Naturally it is the sum of our inner forces
which forces us to look back again and again,
perhaps with too much of Anguish in the way,
reminding us of what we have or have not been
-for Anguish bears a semblance to Memory.

And this form of regret tries thru discourses to
look for resources for you to overwhelm. So we
must work hard towards this our goals,
regardless of the hardships
-that puts
us at the helm,
like
a Captain of survival.

One should only look back to correct
the course of their life in effect,
not to
kick themselves in
the hind
for every
slack, but to try to err
on the side of right.

Just remember, if our means have no end,
then our end has no means
, to keep
obstinate blockades in the way of our
impassioned & hopeful dreams.
The secret protects itself.
Nov 2014 · 391
Forgiven
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Our emergence
from a world of sin
was an awakening
from an induced oblivion.


The animating principle
springs forth like the
shaping force we've
been subject
to first hand,
not in
utter
naivety,
but
on the
shoulders of
a
newfound Glory!


Something profoundly imbued,
before which our imaginable Nature
did quiver as tho surprised or confused:


But those first affectations,
those deep meditations,
in all actuality, are the landmarks and
monuments
we love so adoringly.
Nov 2014 · 360
Many Regrets
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Betwixt and between love longing
and that which I esteem above
most worldly things
-for she is in beauty fair and in
my affections dear-
but does not let for freedom,
first born therein and then spared to ring.


She admits she's not there for me
to redeem my calling or my
dreams. I must myself my own vim repair
and revive my
original vigor to it's spring; for she does not
see them for their worth ,warrant, or as
a guarantee -nor seem to care if I wither
in my quest to set my spirit free.
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Ev'ry morning the sun shines thru
there's at least one thing I could look forward to
but if I had you to be
My Love

--then surely this would be
more than enough.
Nov 2014 · 317
Childhood Sensibilities
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Ev'ry night when the moon smiles wide

I imagine the rise of the oceans tides

--and sounds of waves crashing in my mind.
Written when I was a little lost boy
finding the ocean for the very first time.
Nov 2014 · 362
The Illumined Stream
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
In the deepest recesses of surreal imaginings,
Issireen awaits to appear in lucid dream
--with a headdress made of a jade of
ivory green upon her spirituous head
of purposeful crystalline.

The only gateway to attain the pure excesses
of her beam, and all that she possesses
is the gleaming illumined stream.

To float on by the mysterious ringing spheres
one by one, finding balance in your curious thinking years,
will gently make ripples where there once were none,
and in the hereafter they make still or remove your weighty tears.

The sole visionary can stir a pool of serenity into chaotic
energies --asymmetries of colors, forms and densities;
which reveal aerie little faces which are reflections of dull
or intense entities. But if you try to seize the intangible wakes
caused by the faerie fins that race --like wings in the wind
of other realities
-they will glide thru your fingers like solacing
rain, casually and without pain.

Motion begets motion here, with a sweet gentle touch, as the
oceans of thought first do retreat before the inevitable rush.
Upon your arrival, Issireen can then emerge materialized full
into ethereal space with her hind wings draped over her uniquely
featured legs --outspread across the landscape.

She will be drawn beyond compare. When her immortal image
begins to take shape, a dreamer could naught but feel, but stare. Her eyes will seem to reveal raging complex colors, within
the borders of the iris is the reel of the engaging onyx shutters --into which you will then be the one drawn, drawn into those inescapable eyes. Drawn into the back of beyond -where tranquility lies unsurpassed in it's attribute.

Hear all the sounds that were never mute, see the banners outstretched
but never torn -instruments playing, stars that shoot, and lights that are forever on.
Nov 2014 · 797
This Fate
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
I have been eager in my pursuit of devotion,
perhaps too eager, and the notion is beginning
to tell on me. This cause, this wanton desire,
needs, motion, dedication, and loyalty.

No meager affections are of high station,
but mine are more than that -more than
an unbridled urge: but I must hearken
her attention first.

For though my life's tide is not yet to
it's end, it is of finite duration. Is Fate
discouraged?
No!
The swells have surged independently
of the wind; and this fate is neigh longer
destined.
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
No mask could disguise your wise nature;
ye high scholar, who yet does retain a
moving soul within his line, with an ear
tuned to silence as you expound upon bold
situations, hidden in age old remote spaces
without nomenclature: for though you remain
plagued in an endless Drama, and are of the cost
aware, you write with wit the writ, and thru this
protect it's characters from the public with honor,
by filling the page with secret clues to these truths
which you must declare or suffer.

You are a man on fire, on whom despair does cause
pause, because for all of us does dismal loss bring the
gloom of the sepulcher. So ever remain a man over whom
thy decease cannot loom like stormy weather; a king over
his subject matter, who wilt remain a preceptor who is not
to be beset by savage settlers.

The ring of fellowship did entertain you in youth, and
glorious is the power of heavenly sovereignty on thy
conscious existence's tall stature! And forthright you stir
a generation into childlike veneration at an earnest
endeavor, bethinking before long thy charity of knowledge
shall carry thee into the halls of academic history,
( like all great philosophers.)

And thru systematic theory you taught us to ask ourselves
this problematic query, " If a man's slowly dying emotions
cannot continue alive internally, were they not dyed with
fugitive colors?"
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
How many can bring into being at will
the fire that in the most essential part dwells?
Though the vital principle yearns forever,
it is on occasion mute and still.


In profound wonder,
on days like these,
the total
Self suffers.


So, ye must labor
towards discernment
most deliberate,
and then by breaking thru
the despondent
atmosphere,
can the task of
improvement
be therefore executed,
(if the person is not thereby deterred but determined.)


Thereafter the lowering, threatening aspect of
terrible Doubt is cast off from within,
so as to no longer be suffered.


And when ye do lie
warmed by
a spontaneously
emerged and helpful
attitude,
thence be thy own
witness
to that restraint exercised
over Temper's violence,
and over
hasty Impulse,
troubled Emotion,
and
lustful Desire,
if ye do so choose.


That being stated,
the struggle is then
within
to
contend
with
Virtue.


However,
if at a loss for
answers,
it's less daunting and less haunting
to just ask askance;
for the one who knows
to
question is to seek
and he seeks to ask
by it's translation,
can therefore make
a request hence,
of elderly Experience.


And then ye
must simply
put forth the query
to the
Elder,
who is in the
highest degree
experienced.


So a child of tomorrow
did long ago
pose it in this way,
"How does one find, when
weak, the will to win over Virtue?"


Then the Elder, he sought to tell thee
by matter-of-fact
in this way,

"It is a false belief
that ne'er will the
weak something inspire ,
but 'tis true that the weak will
is something that ne'er inspires."


And with that
he left the poser still
with question,
and in dismay,
for he
never really answered the poser,
which is his way,
in stealth,
to posit with his own question,
which speaks for itself,


"Do not ye think ye must find that out for thy Self?"
Nov 2014 · 484
The Starlit Evening
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
The starlit evening nods very sleepily above thee,
So trace the daring, farther,
Tho smoother path across the dale.

Now that you are here, My Lovely,
Just let the indistinct hilltop winds
Speak softly in thy ear,
Like a caring father who dares
To laugh when you are near.

And ye be carefree, hale, and in motion here,
In place beneath a bright cloud veil.
However if your travels become a travail,
Or desperate frustration does upon you sneak,
Let it be, (but never let it prevail.)

And when this frustration ebbs to a temperate sensation,
See that your thoughts-not your woes-
Have a sanctuary for all ideally worthy modes of restoration.

After all, surely you will receive an image or expression
To be stored as a reward for your unfurled and true Merit.

But since it does seem to me that need must be,
I ask this important question,
And hope that you will finally grin and bear it,

"If next to all of God's gifts inherent misery should
Still be considered your inheritance,
How will you bequeath to all, not the burden,
But rather the unfettered joy, pure in the fairest sense
And sometimes in abundant supply,
And therefore be the world's to inherit
-Thus how can you this deny?"
Nov 2014 · 793
Hangover Blues
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Gin in the mo'nin
I just woke up
First thang I did
was puke my guts

This headache o' mines
feels mighty bad
bes' hangover
I ever had had

sun's hurtin' my eyes
neighbors are yellin'
last weeks trash
sho' is smellin'

To  sober up
drinkin' heps my
thinkin'

Jimmy Beam on the side
Man, I gots to stop drinkin'

Good ole Jack Daniels
& his buddies too

Seem to have it out fo' you
sho' nuff they do

When you got those Hangover Blues
Wrote this humorous bit with my old friend Brad. Hope you are doing well.
Nov 2014 · 196
Here And Yet Nowhere
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Rain falls heavily upon my face and drenches my body so boldly.
Lightning is the only light in the night that allows me to see.
How can I remain where I have ceased to be?

Thunder is all that I hear in this place where I don't really exist.
Pictures of the past are so hard to resist.
Why does this relentless pain persist?

There are tears in my eye alongside the thoughts of the ****** past:
But I have fallen away from reality's grasp...
-Let me go Life, or let me go Death!
Written in my early teens.
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Broken dreams and a broken heart

Describe so much yet mean so little to you...

I should have seen it coming

But what can I do?

Darkness comes in and chases away

The way that I felt on that seemingly fateful

Bright day.

I can't change what has already has taken place

But I wish I could escape.


So, just let the grass grow around me
Let the grass grow tall
Let the grass grow around me

Until I am gone.
Written in youth.
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