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Chris Saitta Apr 17
Morning was sudden-made as an onwardness of hills,
Meant for donning crusade in chainmail glistenings,
The sun visored in misty slats of cold steel,
To glimmer fusty through the godded grove,
A holy sepulchre, earthly-dim to its rafters of oak,
Where the forest-fall of sunlight shed its rosework,
And a red-breasted bird, its song-flight of dappled gleam,
And in the meadow, where colorful whorled the tale of Saladin,
Wayside flowers shook beneath the destriers' cloth caparisons,
A sunny fullness of vales for the crusaders' forest-heartened lungs,
And when this furthering of sights was sunken from,
Still an onwardness of hills to Jaffa like steppingstones.
The Battle of Jaffa in 1192 effectively ended the Third Crusade when Richard the Lionheart’s forces defeated Saladin’s army after routing them at Arsuf, though they failed to recapture Jerusalem.
Chris Saitta Dec 2019
Love is a left-mouse click, a flashing prompt,
For the cursor cross of a Crusade that never was,
And the knight who is broken on the scroll wheel,
And the lady in waiting who backspaces from the real.
Asim Javid Jul 2015
Have anthologized every
cerebration of mine,
finding myself snared in
dogmatic mysteries of cosmos.
My cognitive contents are
razing & vitiating,
leaving a brobdingnagian lacuna.
Striving to surmount it but,  
incapable of sating  the one that
domiciliates within
my èlan vital.
Pirates crashed whimiscal skulls in a jiffy, venturing
quenched excruciating desires at zestful bounties.
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic Notority
Akemi Dec 2014
Two thousand years
Regressing past the cross
Lead bites bitter as bronze
Gaza rages

The brimstone and fire you promised
You delivered
Apostle bound crusader
Jewish Lucifer
7:08am, December 16th 2014

You ******* hypocrites.

— The End —