#imperial
"if it is not on the calendar,
it cannot be, it exists not!"
nml
yes, my words, oft recited,
in my defense,
when issues and extants of importance,
evade, go unremarked, alas, uncelebrated
this man~made device,
now an essence of essentials,
an app,
before apps were ubiquitous,
mundane, quotidian, prosaic, and banal,
no longer a diary, a journal more a scarf
capable of being wrapped about multiple necks,
a device of connectivity and
the unwelcome public isolation,
(why was I not invited to that event?)
it can be a savory,
used sparingly for the dates that must never be forgot,
anniversaries of birth & deaths,
of events assumed to be unforgettable
(where & when was I, upon giving birth
to this poem particular),
the why of the words well recalled,
the triggering, less so,
perhaps, deliberately so...
or it can be a chronology of the mundane,
The hour I awoke,
the timeline of my perfunctoriness,
those things that extend life!
but are somehow so oft overlooked,
(did I take my meds?)
the stuff of life,
or the stuffing of living,
and the desired time to enter into the critical
state of restful sleep,
which is provided and reminded solely
for your own
amusement
due. dates,
to do assignations & assassinations, in date order,
even motivational ticklers
to breathe,
to be mindful of thyself
it will not record the precise time a fly,
buzzed me as I scripted this,
what emotes I spoke when he predeceased me,
if any,
so I give my calendar a salutation most impressive,
My Imperial Calendar,
the only, most royale,
"personage"
we know who never forgets!
who cannot be denied,
and when it tickles me gently at 6:08aM,
with a daily perennial.
'Got any new poem abrewing?"
it cannot be ignored, for imperial
is rooted in the non~impishness of the
!i m p e r a t i v e!
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 7:00 AM UTC
I can by my treason,
Masquerade as as an imperial friend.
My soul can be a supercilious peer,
Perceived like an exchequer.
May 18, 2021
May 18, 2021 at 9:07 AM UTC
we did not Dye in vain!
by michael r. burch
(from “songs of the sea snails”)
though i’m just a slimy crawler,
my lineage is proud:
my forebears gave their lives
(oh, let the trumps blare loud!)
so purple-mantled Royals
might stand out in a crowd.
i salute you, fellow loyals,
who labor without scruple
as your incomes fall
while deficits quadruple
to swaddle unjust Lords
in bright imperial purple!
Originally published by The American Dissident
Notes: In ancient times the purple dye produced from the secretions of purpura mollusks (sea snails) was known as “Tyrian purple,” “royal purple” and “imperial purple.” It was greatly prized in antiquity, and was very expensive according to the historian Theopompus: “Purple for dyes fetched its weight in silver at Colophon.” Thus, purple-dyed fabrics became status symbols, and laws often prevented commoners from possessing them. The production of Tyrian purple was tightly controlled in Byzantium, where the imperial court restricted its use to the coloring of imperial silks. A child born to the reigning emperor was literally porphyrogenitos ("born to the purple") because the imperial birthing apartment was walled in porphyry, a purple-hued rock, and draped with purple silks. Royal babies were swaddled in purple; we know this because the iconodules, who disagreed with the emperor Constantine about the veneration of images, accused him of defecating on his imperial purple swaddling clothes!
Keywords/Tags: royal, purple, imperial, Tyrian, Byzantium, porphyry, swaddling, clothes, porphyrogenitos, mollusks, sea snails, royalty, kings, lords, emperors, popes
Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 4:35 AM UTC
my baby’s ethereal
her jade crown, imperial
love me forever
Nov 21, 2019
Nov 21, 2019 at 11:01 PM UTC
I am searching for the imperial crown,
my body injured by the earthly pain,
the voice and scent of mankind,
I am reborn in the spiral of earthly evolution,
sip of divine scents,
the seeds of my unique being sprout,
kiss me and die,
vanished from life.
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 5:49 AM UTC
from my new anti war book Eventful War
Nick Armbrister
Toy Box
To build an empire you need the right tools
And Imperial Japan had those in abundance
Armed to the teeth with skilled warriors willing to fight
Advanced warplanes like the Zero, Val and Kate
The best torpedoes in the world the Long Lance
The Bushido fighting spirit of never surrender
Outlawed explosive bullets won an empire
A wicked tool was the ‘Assault No 1’ standard military-issue ******
**** as a weapon of war with Comfort Women the prize
Fighting spirit blooded from 1931 until 1945
When the Divine Wind was unleashed
Ravenously fighting till the Imperial Empire fell
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 10:13 AM UTC
A Silence stirs within the people,
As the King anoints his knight.
The man of righteous renewal,
From the very start.
So it began,
His journey across Tamriel.
Searching for a way,
To save his people.
Armor of White,
Spear of the dragon.
He comes to fight,
Those who oppose him.
His only distraction,
A fair maiden.
With lips of ruby,
Hips of curve.
She can ****** anyone,
Then rob their home.
She sneaks within the night.
Only to serve.
Nocturnal the Daedric Goddess of the Dark World.
Evergloom shail it be.
When they cross paths.
Each night they meet...
So goes the Son of Skyrim,
Being tricked.
By the anointing Imperial.
Mother of the Pack.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 9:18 AM UTC