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Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Hast thou come here kindly and in beauty
with the early and faintest dawn, whilst
the undaunted night sky is newly bearing
the dayspring once more;
and dare I ask
if perhaps I dream, or if you truly do drape
thy left hand gently over my right side,
calling me-the struggling bud-to sprightly
issue forth; heretofore
to morph into a mighty flourisher,
then left to beg most intently to be swathed in a
manner of sole Love...
and all in the misty morning light?

-I shall ever await your answer, for now in effect one,
'till the day that I am grown:
perhaps ne'er to escape for the vine, but evermore in the blest sun.
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
Hast thou cometh here cyndelich
ande in beaute with the erli
ande feintest daunen,
whilst the undaunted
niht sky wilt newely
beren the daies spring
once more;
ande dare
I asken if perhaps
I dreem, or if
you trewly do
drape thy leoft hand
gentilly o'er
my right syde,
whilst callening me,
the struggling budde,
to sprightlich
issue forth;
ande morph into a myghty
florishener, then
leoft to beggen most intently
to be swathen in a manere
of soole luve,
all in the mysty morwening liht?

I shall e'er awaiten your andsware,
for now in effect oan,
'till the dai that I
am growen

-perhaps n'er to escapen
for the vine, but
aye in the blest sunne.
Modern English version is posted as well.
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
We strings of
parallel animations
stand      apart
even if only by the
merest measure;
howbeit always of the
same instrument,
and we are eminent in the
Grand Design.

                          So as the human race                                                      
                    -frequently to the same tune-
we try to stay in time.

A silvery music
plays unerringly
when the
softly strummed
strings ring

but if
as a
note sustains
and bends
we hear the cry
waning demons
and agents of evil
that shriek
in discord
and in strife
and in
dark echoes
of din,

we leave
to haunt
the arteries
of Hell
as a
furious ember,

while we
saved souls
in the
rapturous currents
very elegantly,
like a swan

-a swan upon a perpetual
lake of timbre.
Written September 15, 2012
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...
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.
Jamie L Cantore Feb 2017
A woman leaves her hormone
Pills uncapped on the
Kitchen counter
And her female
Gets a hold
Of them.

When she's
Walking back
To her
Apartment she
Sees all the
The neighborhood
Walking in circles
And meowing.

Her pussycat was in
The window
The houndogging
Hind legs
Her knobs
Jamie L Cantore Feb 2017
Imagine a man dies from an overdose of ******. His ****** expression is too horrid too have an open casket funeral... But they have no choice, the lid won't shut. Food for thought.
The coroner's report read as follows:
The man with the *****
is now a goner.
Jamie L Cantore Jun 2016
At summertide, when heaven's airy sunn
Rules o'er the sky  -the glorious kingdom.
Why to yonder ridge biases a pensive eye?
It's unlit summit doesn't meld with the sky.
Why do those bluffs of dark cast so appear
Sweeter than this ol' countryside lying near?
Loftiness, it is,  lends magic to all the view,
And cloaks the cliff in its merry golden hue.
Thus, with relish, we do dally on these per se:
Certain joys of Life, guarantees we do survey,
Thus, from far away,  can each uncharted scene
More brightly be seen than all Fear, lest its seen?
And to every image, that Fear daubs in scary dun,
Express it into that Oblivion -shine on Airy Sunn.
Jamie L Cantore Mar 2015
Isolation often engenders depression

Depression is e'er marked by sadness

Sadness makes us expressive of grief

Grief is a distress that wears you out

O**ut is where we all should try to be!
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.
Jamie L Cantore Mar 2016
All mine musings are but shepherds
Of my romantic Love, for this esprit
Given me with glee thereof, yet words
I speak thus to thee, My Love, blesséd be.

Blesséd be, My Love, to thee I speak thus!
Yet words, with glee thereof, given me for this esprit
Of my romantic Love are but shepherds of all mine
Turning lines yet again!
Jamie L Cantore Jul 2015
Now I behold that murky echo,
                     Just 'neath the closed window,

               And here I am a living innuendo,  

Tossing pebbles 'gainst panes
                            of stained glass. Your pains hurt me more than the panes

I broke trying to wake you.
Jamie L Cantore Jul 2016
Twilight, the early black some may call,
Is upon the horizon, on the hem to fall;
And I see a swarthy bat round the belfry,
As I shudder cold, wrapped in a peltry:
What madness this is, I think I know;
I've been here before, not so long ago.
Could I be on the fritz, at the edge
Of Sanity -once more at the selvage?
Come with you where? The Asylum?
Yes! Yes! I do want a slice of delirium!
But please do loosen these **** buckles.
I can't breathe-- -& neither can Chuckles.
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
A strange cruel eidolon often glides thru my silent room, then slinks away dry and smooth as that daystar punches through my window pane -like daggers of wakefulness to pierce my dreams once more; and layers of consciousness likened to pale dead skin,  to lay bare unwanted awareness of a world too embarrassed to open up that stained and hollow door.

Streaming images on my mind's eye are outstretched,  like the gossamer threads of a silver web, woven taut, near a hypnotic light, to draw the uncanny moth, feeding the ravening host tonight.

Nightly visions driven by restless fantasies most phantasmagorical, scream and shout in palm-muted half-tones  fluttering as the matrix of horrors, divined thru an oracle, haunt that same silver death-bed...  one that reaches out and frightens me like   a shape-shifting ghost, (alight and deplorable.)

Though it's all in my head, it's still     all    too     horrible!
Another collaboration with Dr. RANDOLPH SMITH
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
I  am  lying  here  awake  yet  again
And   the   rainy   night   is   in  vain
Calling...    calling...     calling     me
Behind  blurry eyes into my

Jamie L Cantore May 2016
O there was good fortune in the winds that wafted thru her hair that day, a cortege that graced her lovely cheeks and seemed to know the charm it did to we two lend. From the whispering meadows and the lofty heights, its gentle caresses were to no others more welcome; escaping from the torrents of the crowded streets wherefrom we yearned to be free, free as the breeze which comforted us at will. What den, we wondered, shall we take for our homesite? Which valley shall be our very own? Within which clear river stream shall we bathe each fine early morn? O the world was  not the world in those moments, but rather the earth, a garden paradise which did before us lie.With trembling hearts we ventured on without a clue as to our destination, with nothing more than cloudscapes as our lodestar. The heavy burdens of our former lives were no longer ours to carry, but rather ease and joyous delights were promised in prospect, each to each. Thus far, O Lord! did we make flowing forth that experience our souls in measured hymns: to the open vales we sang out our hearts clothed in not a thing, two separate shades, renovated umbrae we were in that time, such Utopia was ours! We came upon a shady place with ardent steps and sat beneath a laughing sycamore, settling into gentler merriment. 'Twas perpetually autumn, never an unclear day did we come to know during our stay; and yet many were our thoughts, until we gazed into each other's eyes for the first time since our arrival, and thus long did we desire one another with growing love until the sun nearly touched the horizon -and we awakened to the busy hum of the city.
Jamie L Cantore Feb 2017
Each night I die a little more,
Each day I wake alone as b4.
So bothered, it hurts.
Jamie L Cantore Mar 2017
Catkins of a Willow & Birch, whipped
By winds that whistle while in search
Of clouds and thistle to be outstripped
By shouts & bellows to a billow of Earth

Drooping stems, to spread their pollens Amongst their kin by winds that whistle, Whipping them & thistle in the dozens-
Catkins of a Willow & Birch, search Earth

*For their distant cousins.
Jamie L Cantore Jul 2016
The sky muted silver in color,
And I am still running,
Looking up from the earth's dolor.
The luminaries of the heavens
Glowing bright in appearance.
Breathless, devoted,
Twinkling at me as I think of her,
As time-worn relics shine;
Burst thru patina tints.
Smooth, burnished,
Brought to a luster again
After many years neglected in Time.
The corridors where my ancestors
Ran and run. This affected peace to me,
And I am one with them,
From this day on,  I am one.
Take me thru the years,
The key to open doors,
To another day, another way,
With hopes in tow; and  I realize this day, as I think of them…  

I know I am never
As alone as I think I am.
Jamie L Cantore May 2018
Check out my book Poems Of Expression: Revision Of A Bit Of My Poetry. It's available on Amazon for free until May 15th. Go to Amazon and type in Jamie Cantore then select the title I mentioned (Kindle edition.) Word Wise enabled, so if you don't know a word or phrase just highlight it and it will define or explain it. *Update: available in paperback also.
Jamie L Cantore Jan 2018
Lying on the kip in the night I saw my dear hover over my bed, bloodless as the most pale lily head, soft-skinned with naked neck to bite, too waxen for a blush and too flush for white, but perfectly toned without white or red.

And her entire face kissed by my mouth, and all her body watched by mine eyes; the tender hands and eyes of fire, the shaking  limbs hotter than the south, the flowing wings, the lithe thighs, and burning soul of my heart's desire.
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Hail the hale day,

enjoy each,

and in Joy stay.
Jamie L Cantore Feb 2017
I awakened early, dark of morn.
I aten my Kellogg flakes of corn.

I was thinking of how it rained
Literally last night on my parade.

But hey, upon us all
A lil rain
                  Must fall.

                          Today is another day.
Smile, please. May it be a better one.
Jamie L Cantore Mar 2017
At night in the hamlet, a noise broke the silence. A quite small pixie named Stick
Was napping in the forest just round midnight or so, she fancied she heard
Her name being called thru the wood by some lover. She sat there by her snail shell hut like an intoxicated hobbit, then she crept on down to the dale, and spied
Wee little fireflies dancing in the air like nightlights flown by daring pilots with no particular place to go.
Jamie L Cantore May 2015
Aye, couldst those sighs and tears return again into my breast and eyes, which I have spent, that I might in this holy discontent mourn with some pluck'd fruit, for I more than mourn'd in vain;
in mine idolatry, what showers of rain mine eyes did waste! Thus  true? What griefs my heart did rent! That sufferance was my sin; now I repent; 'cause I did suffer ev'ry pain -and much melancholy. That vaporous drunkard, and night wandering thief, the scaly ***** and the self-aggrandizing beasts have the remembrance of past glee's, for relief of coming ills. Tho poor me is allow'd no ease; for, long, yet vehement grief e'er o'erfills, and awes -this hath been as it hath been the effect and cause, the punishment and sin.

But oh! my black soul! now art thou summoned by sickness, (deaths herald,) and champion; thou art like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done treason, and durst not to turn to whence he is fled; or himself a thief, which 'til  Death's doom be read, the guilty wisheth himself delivered from prison, but ****** and haled execution, (with Hell to wed,) wisheth that still he might be imprisoned. Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lack: but who shall give thee that grace to begin?
Ah, make thy self with holy mourning black, and red with blushing, as thou art with sin; or wash thee with Christ's  blood,  which hath this might being red, it dyes red souls to white.

Tho if poisonous minerals, and if that tree whose fruit threw mortality on else immortal us, if lecherous apple worms —serpents envious—cannot be ******, alas, why should I be? why should intent or reason, born in me, make sins, (else equal,)  in me more heinous?  and Mercy being easy, and glorious to God; in His stern wrath, why threatens He?
But who am I, that dare dispute with thee O God? Oh! of thine only worthy blood, and my tears make a heavenly Lethean flood, and drown in it
my sin's black memory; that thou remember them, some claim as debt, I think it Mercy, if thou wilt forget.
I only pray that I have done justice in my revisions to these works by John Donne.
Jamie L Cantore Feb 2017
softy 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 crashed INTO ME so i am a
it seems AS I AM INTO HER? we shall
.                                 see.

if yes AND IF SO, i want her
which comes sadly
now WITH WOEFUL but happy
falling TEAR, hopefully my
being that
call that goes UNANSWERED HERE, that
would be

i pray FOR HER SILENCE to go away
perhaps because it HURTS to be
yet it BUT IS what it is.
such beauty is RARE i must admit.


we are where we are

BECAUSE it is in
you MUST UNWIND, your soul
solely BE a sole
fragrance that is REBORN IN THE
this day and the
that is my wish.

a mightier SIGH of loveliness.

sadly in slavery. now REST YOUR
with only me.

After ALL, THE DUSK you trust
HAS COME rightly
but what i am. i am
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
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.


We are where we are

BECAUSE it is in
you MUST UNWIND, your soul
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
OR a mightier
SIGH. of loveliness.

THAT BINDS, you sadly in slavery.

HAS COME rightly
AND I AM but what I am,
Read the all caps in bold first, then read the poem as a whole.
Jamie L Cantore Jan 2015
Hovering wind, here and there! Visit me in the dale of my thoughts!
Descendants of cherubs fair, do visit me in the dale of my thoughts!

Thru the vast expanse, you may esteem the knowledge I do know.
But I deny not decadence, in the manner of knowledge I do know.

Do search out an answer, from the darkest eclipse of my past deeds!
Here they are but as it were, in the darkest eclipse of my past deeds!

-Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgement ye judge,
ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again I pledge; for that is what the Bible says.
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


e'en brighter

Jamie L Cantore Feb 2017
My dear darlings! My dreamers!
O flawless ones, a Poetess each
Are you all methinks straightway!
And much do your hearts reach
Mine own, a heart growing wider
And wider with each Poem ye bless
Me with in the night before I find
Rest in words so lovely, that my own
Fail to do justice to what it is I feel
I wish to express in this humble
Thank you! to you all, my darlings...
My dreamers... Each a lovely Poetess.

Mein Liebe zu dir -JLC
Jamie L Cantore Feb 2017
Fools rush in where the wise fear to go.
But the wise have never loved n e 1 so
-Due that fear-  how are they to know?
Jamie L Cantore Apr 2016
The inherent twist of Depression that I lament, yea, it devours but portrays to me my weaknesses and duty to dementia.

Tho naught with radiance, with gloom, for our riven hearts the black beast, the damnable atrocity, did consume.

But tomorrow I will be all smiles, and I'm not sure which is worse. The ichor of the sadness or the mania, both I do curse.
Jamie L Cantore Jan 2016
In the beginning God created the heaven and earth.When I consider the heavens,the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him? What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and thou shouldest set thine heart upon him? But one in a certain place testified, saying, What is man, that thou art mindful of him? or the son of man, that thou visiteth him? Thou madest him a little lower than the angels; thou crownedest him with glory and honor, and didst set him over the works of thy hands: Or a little while inferior to Thou hast put all things in subjection under his feet. For in that he put all in subjection under him, he left nothing that is not put under him. But now we see not yet all things put under him.And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, all power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: The Lord hath made bare his holy arm in the eyes of all the nations; and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God. And that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee: and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed. And He said, It is a light thing that thou shouldst be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to restore the preserved of Israel: I will also give thee a light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be my salvation unto the end of the earth.
Jamie L Cantore Apr 2016
Beauty is not in profile and cast,
Such sweets to save only in youth,
For if ye drowse the while then ask,
"Where have my years gone in truth?"
Well, if he abides her wish to speak of
Wherefore her fonder form hath run
He will break her heart in two, the love
That was had ended -sixty years bygone.
Jamie L Cantore Mar 2017
Word that means important AND can
Be broken down into 4 words which
Are important instructions to one's
Ask and I’ll answer
Jamie L Cantore Jan 2016
But it doesn't make you right any more than belonging to a nation makes you a Veteran!
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
Oft in the secluded quarters of the
intellect, lie a poets
unpaid debts
of deeper thoughts
hardly written,
therefore surely unread.

His notes are past due,
but they may subdue
the sublime in kind,
(upon the turning of every runic stone in thy head.)

But in those moments of
creative famine
do direful phantoms
make a struggling poets thoughts
their ruinous home,
a response
-thru which we bards are touched to the heart,
the nucleus,
the core.

'Tis the acumen of the unchained
where lies
the tranquil pleasure
of discovery,
which can be found alone,
here beneath the tree
which we
call the laughing sycamore.

Suffice it to say,
we must have that need to write
or feel blank
and hollow, lying quiet,
there where
our inspiration also lay,
dearly killed,
by another sullen day,
whilst surrounded by the
many offensive forms;

and every essential structure
of our being, being forced
to shut out
the ghastly tidal wave
that has ever poured o'er our
personified dream.

It is a dreariness
which foreshadows
the greatest theme,
that mustn't be

Therefore e'er will I seek
the nascent flame of ideas,
searching solely to feel
inspired, bright, and clear;
and here display
my regards
with barely
a downcast

-'til the portrayal of metaphysical line
reveals itself in it's own time...
   one and all.
Jamie L Cantore Mar 2015
United in sadness
                      o'er a wars
        unavailing remorse,
             these sorrowful eyes
                      of ours weep the
                                regrettable cries
                  of woe which pours
           fastest o'er the fruitless
                 longing that forced
             the hand that feeds
                 to clench into a fist;
a violence that too
                 many know,
and I
am no passerby in
-my house was supposed
                              to be a home.
Jamie L Cantore Apr 2016
My Dying Love ne'er betrayed my faith,
but speak to me in whispers .......quaint
did she; hung her head as if to saith,
I love you so, but by dear love, I faint;
faint for thee, Love, forever, and a day...
could ne'er be complete, but for pains;
A pain we two feel when we together lay.
In the hearts of glee; in the eyes of saints;
giving all that was taken back in spades!
Black as pitch was my heart upon that day,
but ivory white was she -without a ******
in mine eye: but Death took her anyway;
to my surprise, she smiled -I was dismayed
as she rode into the shadows with Hades.
I saw my Persephone, she was saved; saved
for thee -the god of Death -and by six seeds!
six months she spent with me, butthey've
withered mine heart as have my griefs.
Jamie L Cantore Jul 2016
I took to rage in a fading moment,
Tho such a bore is not my burden-
No, I will not daresay that the omen
Of the Earth may purge me of any sin
That devilish pride had indulged in.
I have no opportunity to daydream.
Some call it passion-that sea of flames!
It is but the throes of such mad desire.
If I can dream-Oh Lord! I need strength!
Its origin is more sacred-more sacrosanct.

I shall not deem thee fair game, & so retire
From this attack, little birdie on the wire.
Jamie L Cantore Feb 2017
Drinking a cup of coffee
This fine early morning,
A wee little bird saw me,
And flew away scorning.

My sight ruffled feathers,
She didn't want me here,
She flew to the lil tethers
That held a flock so dear.

I laughed & even thought,
The nonsense such worry
In her brain had brought
To my mind, each birdie.

I never would hurt a bird,
But I can see the thoughts
Of Fear being hard wir'd
In their reason, tho I scoff.

I wanted to quietly admire,
Then they sang, all in choir;
Thanks for the seed I left her
In the ol pretty little chamber.
Jamie L Cantore Apr 2016
A lyrist was upon the night brought forth,
Like a brilliant star up above;
And Poetry did thru his brain course
Racing its way to the central hub.

He did see thru good, and too thru ill,
He did perceive thru his lone soul
The curiosity of the eternal will
Which is still an open scroll,

And with tired feet he threaded
The arcane walks of acclaim:
The arrows of his ideas were headed
And with due haste they did flame,

Smoothest lyrics came from his tongue,
And of so passionate a flight,
From one end to the other they'd sung,
Filling all with glorious light.

But the wellspring did dry like bone
Leaving the world with sweepings
For to digest as literature and tome,
Until from the learnéd came weepings;

And floating melodies, the winds bore
Them skyward till they'd ignite;
Then, like Beauty so pure came forth yet another celestial light.
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.
Jamie L Cantore Jun 2015
Be it so, that the sole, most enchanting of all springs, desires to mingle with my
eldest memories, and all 'neath the shades without shadows all the while; and be it so,
that a dear thing to me was then revived by Mnemosyne, fairest water nymph set here in the Helicon spring, carrying me past my former destiny, to witness the union of my ancestors in that bygone style, unbeknownst to so many, unbeknownst to my other self. Would that I might have seen with your eyes In my earlier years... O let me not so dream!
But ponder the while in this, the election of
your beauties -so much surpassing. I hear such sweet new melodies, ****** songs of the waters tempted naught by the world I
did hereby leave, playing on thru the glorious hours unheeded by the dials, carrying the rhythm which tames my soul's wandering,
gathering my thoughts upon thoughts to beyond others thoughts, granting me, among
careless divisions, a greater knowledge or a faint calm feeling which I do so owe this place.
O, whence I have in mid-air flown above grotto's, as do the fortunate birds of paradise, now level
with mine eye, larger do they seem to mine eye, and more majestic to mine mind they could not be.
O grant me more than a moment to be here half-suspended by the windy current, as a warm bath in
the naked sun of Helicon, and safe as any creature I remember. With such curious whispers does such
curiosity speak to me, where all seems like Heaven, or what of Heaven I imagine. I deem these spirits I see to be as real to my mind as any, and do oft
ponder as an child, meek and mild as was I; and so,
floating upon this stream, go I on further now
into this dream, like the wanderer I have long been.
And the rocky overhead on the hill rises to greater
heights than my flight dares take me momentarily,
though my wings do not tire whilst I soar about the
magnificent scenery in such splendor like an unfurled
tapestry flapping freely. With a steady faith I press
on, yet again, and steal away, to return, return  to
land, landing upon the streamside that speaks to me
with a patient air. Ah! not so was it that I once didst
here lose my way, not even on walks across the plain,
the valleys, or any such sweet, sweet meanderings.
Yet, what unexpected comes? The shade of shadows?
Tempt me not! I exclaim to Sorrow, for long have I
since escaped that chapter in my life, or, do my eyes
merely jest, to see if still I'd want to remember all,
when that which I repressed then so the most in
those dark hours comes forth just as well? I draw
a blank, and so I rest in that shadow dark, arrested,
which renders me unwell, but somehow feels
familiar, or even most comfortable. I wake now,
feeling cold in the darkness, wondering, worrying
with a sinking feeling, as if some mire I had entered
in my sleeping. Wherefore did I take this road, which
made of my progress a mockery? Was it for pity, this
push on to self-destruction? I mustn't deem such an
accident, or argue on that my senseless judgement
played a part. O, where hath passed I! how far must
I travel to return? Just then, a voiceless whisper came
to mine mind, calm as any, to me familiar, though faint did
I upon the ground where I stood, whence I did learn
to what I owed this noble good. My spirit guide arrives
to take me beyond the flood, the flood of ruin that drains
now from the tomb that was for so long my only

— home.
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
While the hosts of Heaven,
above the arching skies,
thus did celebrate in verse,
to me in solitude had been
                              born            the      infan­t           Sorrow
that I allowed in by reason of

It was a time-adapted
expression that gave to me also despair
and frustration as I stood in the doorway
of my                              troubles                      wit­h         my       arms         akimbo.

But the attendant spirits saw              the cataract burst forth from my eyes....
                        They smiled gracefully     

                            -and I gave myself up to laughter!
Jamie L Cantore Apr 2016
Hark! the tempest doth devour,
(Hurry, the lair of Hell prepare,)
Raining needles, a sharp shower,
Arrows arc thru the dark air.

Glaring weapons are the loom,
Where the soldiers strain,
Weaving many a fighters doom,
This man's woe, that man's bane.

See the fortress walls to right grow,
"'Tis a corpse tower." maiden said.
And cannon ***** do fire from below,
Each an enemy soldiers'  lobbed head.

Bones for arrows, dipped in gore,
Shot by the spinal cords so long.
Dagger, that once an emblem bore,
Keep that blade so sharp; so strong.

Before the ****** sun is ****** set,
Lances must shiver;
                        And javelins do sing.
Blades with clanging  
                            sound to whet.
Lightning crashes; helmets ring.

Blades of swords to suddenly glare
Send more to the front, let 'em fight,
Where our companions
                        The conflict share.
 Many triumph, yeah: but, O!
                          Yet, they die.
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
sine qua non

the hourglass,
the illimitable
where the
a paradigm
Morgan Le Fay's

Yes, Death
     the dawn,
soul collecting
in a
it is
forever on,
a vista
  of bliss
Jamie L Cantore Jul 2016
More than fair and filled with extant fire

aflame above unto God so near;

joyous in which all virtues conspire,

that to the earth no other be so dear;

argent rays which ne'er blind the guest

blast out such darts & low hearts wounded;

as angels alight to put burdens to rest

in virtuous desires, in heavens tunic.

You forge my logic & design me within;

you check words and teach hearts to speak;

you quiet the storm
which love did begin,

strength your creed, but thy temper weak.

Dim is the world where light ne'er shone,

bright is the world thru you I have known.
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.
Jamie L Cantore Jul 2016
By virtue of what do the many lions roar
When silence speaks to thee near or far?
To what end could you shut the open door
That let in the light from the nearest star?
I am that creaking hinge which bothers so,
I squeak in the small hours of the night
And wake I the merry wives that know
Something is in the air, all is not right.
You smell of perfume, ***, and death
Wherefore wert thou, O Romeo?
She asks, “Hast thou not answered yet?”
What hides beneath that veil of virtue,
And was it all that you had hoped it'd be?
The candle burns at both ends for thee.
Jamie L Cantore Feb 2017
What holds a star together? *Hint: They could be considered vainglorious due this.
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