#absolution
all evolutions,
revolutions
to absolution
by liquid?
can we drive always away away away
our sins that are burnt into our
skin?
Without the spillage of a
witness of wetness?
is my own sweat insufficient?
product of sunrise and rays
testing the body’s hydration,
my words beckon to reckon
to emerge,
purge my seditious sins,
my owned dissolution,
with false, half hearted acts
of contrivance contrition?
Why are
my daily confessions,
halved by inability
to give myself up a
full~on
fullsomeness,
but words available,
censored by a stub of
unwillingness
to embarrass
what little honor
left in my shrinking
possession
I am guilty of ******
this act of admission
is legally insufficient
to sustain even
sky painted clouds
to cease moving,
there, it’s sad said,
and i breathe no easier
only comfortable that my
shame is openly accounted
for by you, my jurors…
Aug 21, 2024
Aug 21, 2024 at 1:51 PM UTC
The sins of nightingales are always forgiven
as pardon for their music,
that sweet song which brightens the world
Peacocks should never be absolved
their cry is harsh and their beauty skin deep
they believe they do no sin at all
Jul 2, 2024
Jul 2, 2024 at 4:32 AM UTC
“Whatever happened to Tuesday and so slow?” ^ or
Absolute Absolution
<>
the slow Tuesday fragrance fills the nostrils,
Van Morrison in my earbuds, reminding that
“This Must Be What Paradise Is Like!
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here…”
Sea salt spray spicy sauces the atmosphere,
Many boats, some silent, noisy too, transverse the eyelids,
entertainment of the vista, decorating time’s motionless motion
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here…
the voluble hush, delightfully confuses mes sensories,
noisy cacophony orchestral avians, waves, and a human voice,
punctuate the music, absolute absolution of mes sensoriels
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here…
Indeed, it is a Tuesday, and the slow of the surround sound,
vanilla spotted with rainbow sprinkling of the noise of life,
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here…,
so full, so rich,
so vast the strands of colored variegated, perpetual motionlless
moves me to tears, steals my emotional refuse,
I too,
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here…inside of me…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~—————-~~~~
(1) Lyric from Brown Eyed Girl, Van Morrison
Nov 6, 2023
Nov 6, 2023 at 3:47 PM UTC
today is the day i decide to love me,
instead of you.
how, i’m not quite sure. although
i’m sure that i want to.
Oct 1, 2022
Oct 1, 2022 at 8:31 AM UTC
I'm in a room without recovery area:
a room of intermission, a room
of collapse. Where are
the convenient little windows
to release a wicked bird of thought?
The quiet there is monk-like,
rogue, and slightly unpleasant, guilty
of moments spent with shadow.
I want to build a clock
that ticks once a year
—more dark than shark,
my confessional capacity
—time-stretched,
like the heavy intoxicated *******
of the witching hour. And I'll
make soup from the leftover prayers
of the day before, all in hopes
the rooms of me, then so clear,
will one day be faraway suns
in the temple of heaven.
Feb 1, 2022
Feb 1, 2022 at 11:23 AM UTC
Be assured, the sun always rises
through out morality.
Re, nach einmal, crows caw,
and race down the valley
laughing, beating the call from the roosters.
Re joyed be,
re joyed being, noise of life in morning,
caws of crows,
calling crows.
and tweets and peeps of tiny things,
wake us all to be once more
users of light made in life,
doing duties,
crowing and cawing and
stretching and yawning and such.
oh, what a day!
Mitwoche, aber mas, mucho mas,
este dia, este dia
Vvoden's tag aqui, we rejoice
and be glad as on any given Wednesday,
as though it were like any other fine day
to begin in,
in relation to light letting
letters let the sense
of life seem true, sure things, can't loose,
choose, this day,
miércoles,
realizes its possibility… being the basis,
the one event that must occur
as in the night,
the earth must turn,
doing the actual cycle of living
in quanta mediated reality, ones in order,
this day
digital squawking alarms, flashing
red-lights and green, signifying
oomph enough, trickle
charged to aid my being connected…
to the task at hand,
this is the given
Wednesday,
I choose to pay a whole day worth
of rapt attention… drawing on
power stored in darkness,
dripping into day, clepsydra wise.
Wiping sleepy from woken eyes, to see the old new.
Jul 22, 2021
Jul 22, 2021 at 9:28 AM UTC
works burned to cinders
poplar trees leaking resin
bulging eyes lashed
punishment as a lesson
but his chain links snapped
fresh from slavery
hefty debts to the procession
the gally of people alike
that lent him a hand to his ascension
a journey his own
luck and his mind
fortified his constitution
they carried him to his fate
that was to be
absolution
May 21, 2021
May 21, 2021 at 12:15 PM UTC
I left home young, I scarcely remember
being a lad and learning the way
of the old wisdom hidden in swordplay
When the war came I enrolled, a beggar
Then, I unleashed my consuming anger
And waded through blood, through every melée
I rose to command, and all would obey
and through my skill they came to call me ”sir.”
Then, when I returned, I had no more fears
Back as a lion though I left a lamb
I strode with vigor, to scale the last hill
Alas! On the crest I burst into tears
The same war that made me the man I am
had vanquished my home, such a bitter pill !
Mar 19, 2021
Mar 19, 2021 at 5:17 PM UTC
we search for saving in every little crevice
of our lonesome existence
we yearn for release
and for whoever may be generous enough to grant it
it is comforting to believe in a savior
because we crave the idea of rescue
a moment of peace in this endless cycle of suffering
as if redemption could befall us from the sky
as if there was a miracle crafted from the heavens above
just for our sake
selflessly gifted and waiting to be found
to live one's life in the hope of saving
is the most poetic tragedy ever written by man
I have come to understand the charm of religion
and those who seek to pursue its principles
for if I were certain that someone out there cared enough to save me
I'd get on my knees too
Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 6:45 AM UTC
Your love is of a sacred kind, that leaves me basking in the afterglow of your longing embrace.
There I find myself alight with emotions so radiant that their golden rays burst forth from my ribcage as if holy arrows have pierced my very soul.
And it is in your divine light that I wish to remain ever more.
Aug 17, 2020
Aug 17, 2020 at 8:44 AM UTC
they hit you everywhere,
bruises, slow faders,
pretty much all over,
spaced out, body and time
some, they come back,
months, years later,
enticing, devising,
with revelations perfect,
you melt with helpfulness
some claim they are born
with only questions and an
insatiable quest for knowing,
but line in the soil tween rows
is there for you not to cross
some proffer their pain,
asking for ablution and absolution,
from demons they wish to share,
but refusing the smoke of my offering,
that could cleanse both our inhalations
like highway men of yore,
they hit everyone, below the belt,
stave breaking into the heart,
slow bleeding, with answers
received in absentia and silence
until the till needs refilling, and they
renewed, reappear, reformed, with
perfect words, even better questions:
my portfolio of replies mostly go/grow
old, noting the obvious, we are socially
distance by age and geography and
degree, I free and clear to provide while
they just free to hit and run, one more time
Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 9:11 PM UTC
I see them flowers withering, Llorona,
The cold wind sweeps them away,
The leaves and stems are so empty, Llorona,
Come at ones to collect them, Llorona, Llorona,
There's darkness surrounds me, Llorona,
Like a burned coal mixes with the air,
It has consumed me to the core, Llorona,
You are my absolution, Llorona, Llorona,
They say I bring the calamity, Llorona,
Distructruction above all laid,
Even the full moon will hide from the sight, Llorona,
Take me to the river and show me Llorona, Llorona,
My eyes are filled with sorrow, Llorona,
No more butterflies of colors flip the wings,
A dune of a pale sand desert grows in me, Llorona,
Come with the rain and drizzle me Llorona, Llorona,
I wander in the woods and the lakes, Llorona,
Looking for a white gown of a woman weeping,
To give my will freely to your salvation, Llorona,
Hold me in your arms as I pass into thee, Llorona, Llorona,
If your wailing needs life to be taken, Llorona,
Let another child live with joy and meaning,
Take my wasted soul without falter, Llorona,
Let us go into the void of salvation, Llorona, Llorona.
Apr 27, 2020
Apr 27, 2020 at 10:04 AM UTC
Open the windows caked in dusty melancholy
Allow the sun's strange rays through
To call the skeletons from their closet homes
Forcing them gone in hurried queue
Wake your mind from heavy slumber
Raise your weary chin
Your search for absolution
Is found once you let light in
Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 1:33 PM UTC
Exotic trollwood harlotry and mule kit blues
Tyrannical tyrannosaur traction padness
Cohort cavorts clastic and witch’s *** hues
Ontological ontogeny somatalogy fadness
Inductive endemic veracities and talus weather clues
Epistemological equilibrium’s homogeny badness
Timeless rhetorical ruminations and ephemeral exigency dues
Transcendent ascensional equivocal madness
Tactile acuity prescience capacity intrepid intrigues
Mystical symbiosis dharma sensorium sentiment proselyte
Torturous tractive prosthesis umbrage ultraism colleagues
Newfangled nocturnal nonchalant nether nestle neophyte
Top notch topography tortoise trauma fatigues
Faustian faux pas foist felicitous fealties socialite
Agnate nous ontological ontogeny euphenics in league
Mentalities evocative introjecting sycophant eulogizing apposite
Mystical terrestrial equestrian tellurian tableau
Panoramic imagery empiricist
Evocative exserted apomixies’ ethereal should show
Ontological somatology lyricist
Reflective refraction remissions opulence could know
Theosophy theophany epiphany equilibrist
Magniloquent inductive extrapolation quantum back ***
Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 1:05 AM UTC
i sold my soul for redemption
to sign this pain away
the devil however forgot to mention
that all the guilt would stay.
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 1:56 PM UTC
Blue and somber white, I ask that
you ponder in your waking dreams and solid songs to bare the fruits with these eyes
like children and horses and such.
Naked and trembling. You frighten me.
Words of a thousand suns are witness.
They cross out the years of servitude and grace.
Absolutions. They yearn
to survive until they crave mortality.
I am about to give way. To see you with fresh sight,
hear the voice of another betrayal. Thus far,
there is only One
I have never seen
I have never heard
I have never known.
Cruelty abates
itself, shuns itself.
We wait in silence and petulance,
longing for a day to last
a thousand days
and more.
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 7:25 AM UTC
there's a rift in your heart (as there
are in the hardest of hearts)
and it festers like an unsolicited wound,
inflamed by the ire from which your deeply-seeded roots grew, from which you longed to escape but could never run from ,
but leave it, now.
lay it low,
in a river of forgiveness dispel your grievances
and come up, come again, unbowed of burden,
lest it finds its way downstream to you once more.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 9:04 PM UTC
swallow the stars
whole.
glow from the inside out
as the pain of what you've done
spreads seeping through your body
filling your veins
with excruciating light.
close your eyes against it and
find it's to no avail
the bright follows, the light suspends
behind your eyes, pinpricks
finding their way out
working their way in.
sell yourself for borrowed silver
scatter it on the ground as later
you cry out for a redemption
that never came.
finally
submit to the silence
you've swallowed the stars now
and there is no one else
there is just becoming
numb.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 2:32 AM UTC
We know the road but still we're lost,
Amidst the fruit, the flames, the dust,
With just the names they gave to us,
Time cannot forsake you.
Born in summer, raised in rain,
What once was black be black again,
And words shall not return to them,
Time cannot forsake you.
Forever trapped in silent truth,
The pleading man weeps without use,
The final door, let slip the noose,
Time has not forsook you.
Think no more of fear, of fate,
No mind at war to love our hate,
All will rest with us this day,
For this is paradise.
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 9:14 PM UTC
I kiss you with more guilt
than I thought
I was capable of.
You kiss me with more forgiveness
than I thought
I was capable of.
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 10:25 AM UTC
Today I broke bread in the garden of the ******
I sat and met the devil.
I drank his wine and ate his fruit.
It would do me no favour, to deny generosity of any host.
Today I broke bread in the garden of the blessed.
I sat and met almighty.
I drank no wine. I ate no fruit.
It would do me no favour, to expect the kindness of a stranger.
Today I broke bread in a garden of my own.
I sat alone and silent.
I drank my wine and ate my fruit.
It would do me no favour to dine with those who seek my soul.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC