#trochaic
Afore the storm of fractals wave,
Spinning alone beyond Colour’s grave;
For Black hath begun and Black hath began,
Every shade dull as the desert sand.
Until a light hath shone upon Nature’s back—
The Storm in formation is also Black;
A shame to the Senses where Cinnabar formed,
The Kaleidoscope shifting as Red is the lore;
Deep as the blood-pulse the colour runs rampant,
Rage and the Pain—and the Gain of the second—
Dulling away to a crimson swirl—
Red is the bloom of a putrid boil.
Till nary a tick is left to turn,
The Cylinder stops and the Eye is burned;
Not torn into sheets by geometric bustle,
Red bleeds to Black—the Void is a puzzle.
Black bleeds to Green—Nature’s emerald sheen,
Verdant growth rising—the Kaleidoscope seen.
Shifting of pieces paints a Viridian world,
The Earth but a canvas in rotational swirl.
For Beryl-streaks bleed betwixt geometric shapes,
With every flinch comes a gamble of Faith;
Till Darkness descends and the Green is struck mute,
Shadows collapse and the Memory is moot.
As the Great Mother claims the finality of turn,
Green bleeds to Black and the Nature-dream burns,
Replaced by the haunting of nightmare-glare,
Absent the Sun and the radiant air.
Azure-streaks wroth in the oceanic seas,
White-capped froth for the stimulating need;
Cerulean angels in Pythagorean angles,
A tangle betwixt the celestial metals
Which shine a cold Blue upon yonder shores,
Where every spin wheels the lines to adore.
A Lapis crown fading away to the Void,
Black again beckoning—the Spirit annoyed;
Cobalt-blued steel fading into the fray,
Blue bleeds to Black at the end of the day.
The Great Mother welding the Kaleidoscope scope—
Emptiness offering Her the only hope.
Gilded Ochre—a cemented facade,
The Yellow of Sun but a flickering nod
To the Day that is brighter than hollows of Night;
Saffron-gold bangles dangle in sight.
For bright is the colour that lights all below,
Brass-beams trimming the seams for the flow.
Beyond the light of the morning’s first rise,
A Sallow Centaur, godly in size;
As clouds begin filling the Firmament,
The lurid glare clicks in a simple contentment.
As Amber fills up the darkening horizon,
Yellow bleeds to Black on the back of a Diamond,
Whose facets shift with the weight of the Sin;
The Kaleidoscope echoes again and again.
Tyrian dyes stain the Emperor’s descent,
Imperial Purples dance with confident intent;
Where Power doth bask in a heritage pure,
Ametrine dreams highlight the cure.
A destiny deemed fully replete,
The colour of Gods—their honour to meet;
As the gears rotate and the moment shifts—
Once to a Caesar the Senate-grip slips.
Where Vitreous glass begins filling the senses,
Heliotropic visions form the Violet image;
As Purple bleeds Black and the Void is in sight,
An emptiness rivaling the blackest of Night.
Brought back to Center as the Cylinder clicks:
A Kaleidoscope of Power—every colour to mix.
Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 4:40 PM UTC
O old Gods who wait in morrow, let me shine in sacred sorrow
I proffer, and offer, my marrow, bone, flesh, to thine altar borne,
lone in meeting, only fleeting, silent here for duty sworn
My old Gods who sit in waiting, might I power just to borrow?
Only briefly you must loan me the magic to sunder torn.
Weak and trembl’ng, weak to muster, I sought courage, but I crumble,
at the sight of just thy vision, for to me it seems e’er unseen
naught to know but thy own master ‘til I patient, sorely lumber
wondering if fear has stolen me to thine own sacred meadow
when suddenly, fervently see thine true shape and face and form and
terrible dreams enter my soul e’er to stay and e’er to fecund
for death I prefer to understanding the truth our Gods have shunned.
Yet little more did I then speak among the dead and too the meek,
falling towards an abyss so deep that makes my heart and soul weep
dying truly like a phantom lurking in the shallows creep
and yet falling ever faster and so overwhelmed by deep
my eyes and ears saw nothing and heard nothing, not a leap
from the darkness that consumed me e’er more did I fail to seek
that which cannot only reap the dead and tear them ‘til they so reek
so sharp and pointed so it was even I could witness and speak
“Who have I wronged in this place so awful that I am gaoled oblique?
Yet can still think and ponder the widow’s peak and in vain self-wreak?”
in sacred toil among the stardust that makes us shine so mystique.
What does thou will, O lord, my lord, of more than we can ever tell?
I know it is not my duty not to know. Ask I must, ask besides
the husk of my body is yours and yet I know little of thee
by whose authority do wield such magics and more asides?
it is not plain to me what sort of horror lies ‘neath the scorched ground
so why do I? Why do I scream? Why do I see the beast in me?
The hound that hunts for those who must be slaughtered despite what else they seek
the wolf inside that hunts, rips, and tears, taken apart piece by piece
the awful sound of howling that’s for me to not and never cease
the stars themselves align to my fate fear in mind and e’er besides
‘tis here that I myself sit alone and finally soon to die.
for death I prefer to the fate our Gods have brought to us benumbed.
Dec 9, 2021
Dec 9, 2021 at 5:40 AM UTC
Solitary creature in the Wilderness
Scared of even those of your own Kind
Staying out of reach of those too Curious
Singing out at night your haunting Cry
Is there some great secret that you Know about
Try to keep the mystery you Must
Deep and sacred knowledge you would Show about
If only there were someone you could Trust
Can I tame them? Should I try?
Do they know the reason why
I Felt as though my heart could break
All for a common rose's sake
when Someone seems Unique in all the World to me
the Reason is the Time spent making Ties
for Only with the Heart can one the Truth perceive
Essential things are Hidden from the Eyes
Have they tamed me? Did they try?
Have they shown me the reason why
I Felt as though my heart could break
All for a common rose's sake
I Looked for wisdom but I found a Friend instead
Companionship I know was meant to Be
but Even so, all good things must soon Reach an End
my Dearest friend I will no longer See
They have tamed me, them have I
and Now I know the reason why
I Felt as though my heart would break
For Naught,
but my very own special Rose's sake
-for the Fox
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 3:57 AM UTC
When will April Showers
Bring me some May Flowers?
My buds all but cower;
Dormant even in spring.
When will June's desire
Bring me July's fire?
Warmth could take me closer
To when we both were kings.
Summertime is coming;
When spring comes I will sing:
Take it easy, Lover,
Until I find my wings.
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 7:59 AM UTC
Slow, as if beset by dreams and
Presently, afraid to fall asleep.
Encircle, bullpen predators.
I'm not afraid to die upon this hill.
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 7:58 PM UTC