#vesuvius
The earthquake wove ripples of terror in the minds of my Pompeii...
Trembling I looked towards the great Vesuvius of my emotions still offering me a hint of the bad days to come...
Yet I chose to belittle... And went on bottling my concern within the four walls of the city of my mind...
So one fine day... When I saw a layman hitting stones to see a spark...
The Vesuvius of my emotions erupted... Without a warn
And engulfed my Pompeii in a great ocean of long suppressed lava leaving only in some places a hint of some hardened souls...
...
Thus... The regret of catching the hint of Vesuvius about the unexpected exodus of my emotions... Only remained a prisoner of the past!
Jul 28, 2020
Jul 28, 2020 at 8:48 AM UTC
My Prize for Waiting
~
*tucked in all by myself,
resting dark and quiet
in the thin place^
where the distance between
this world and the next,
is no distance at all,
but a few inches separating,
easily fordable, back and forth-able
my palms, hands down,
come to rest on my *******
and the two thumbs in unison,
begin to sweep the streaming space of their in-between,
conducting a radar sweep-search for the precise point
passageway to poetic mystical places,
hoping to snag any residuals for safekeeping
no hurry to either arrive or depart,
in patient attendance for
rhythms of woven word arrivistes,
coming in no particular order,
asking to be seized, greedy to be
nominated and recognized, immortalized,
as great poetry, prize worthy,
kept for all time inside others poetry chests
but in the thin place,
dream records are not kept,
hazy scraps at best retained,
a recipe for a witnessed totality,
is only a soupy reduction of a
few seconds of hazed video,
that can neither give nor get
no satisfaction
the plastic surgeons attempt to reconstruct
the body of the meal, the real deal,
alas, there are no prizes either
for botched surgeries and pretty but meaningless
poetry scraps
the only evidence of my travels,
a flushing, blushing residual flow,
slow to dissipate, a hangover makers mark
of a sojourn best described as unsatisfying,
my blush, a prize for waiting but failing,
“the most peculiar and most human of all expressions”^^
woe to me when returned in ignominy,
medaled in only base irony,
me and philosopher Pliny,^^^
both dying while recording our own private Vesuvius,
our bodies preserved by voluminous volcanic ash,
but alas, you cannot recite the ash of poetry
so one waits, cut and pasting brown edged
burnt photographs epistles,
that are clinging and clung to the distaff spindle,
insufficient to weave a flax complete
and yet we return perforce twenty four hours from now,
to snag another prized piece of meaningless,
my prize for waiting
in the solitude of the thin place*
3:35am Saturday April 6th, 2019
~
last nights scrap
***cease your whining,
seize your waiting,
therein is your own paid price
for the prize of inspiration***
inspired by Jean Fisher,
a real prize winning poet
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 4:26 AM UTC
Vesuvius has a long historical
and literary tradition. It was considered
a deity of the genius type at the time
of the explosion in the year 79:
it appears under the registered name
of Vesuvius as a snake in the ornamental
frescoes of many residential sanctuaries
or dwellings that survive Pompeii.
An inscription from Capua to IOVI
VESVVIO shows that it was worshiped
as the power of Zeus. That is, Zeus Vesuvius.
Mount Vesuvius / vɪsuːviəs /; Italian:
Mount Vesuvio [monte vezuːvjo];
Napolitano: Vesuvius? Latin: Mons Vesuvius
[mõːs wɛsʊwɪ.ʊs]; Also Vesevus or Vesaevus
in some Roman sources is a somma-
stratovolcano located in the Bay of Naples
in Campania, about 9 kilometers
east of Naples and a short distance
from the coast. It is one of the many
volcanoes that make up the campanian
volcano. Vesuvius consists of a large cone
partially surrounded by the steep crest
of a boiler peak caused by the collapse
of a previous structure and initially
much higher. Mount Vesuvius is known
for its eruption in 79 AD. which led
to the burial and destruction
of the Roman cities of Pompeii,
Herculaneum, Orlando and Stabia,
as well as many other settlements.
The explosion threw a cloud of stones,
ash and volcanic gases at a height of 33 miles
(21 km), throwing molten rock and pulverized
pumice at a speed of 6 x 105 cubic meters
of 7.8 x 105 hm per second, finally
releasing one hundred thousand times
the thermal energy released by the Hiroshima-
Nagasaki bombing. More than 1,000 people
died in the explosion, but the exact numbers
are unknown. The only witness to the event,
who survived, are two letters from Pliny
the youngest to the historic Tacitus.
Vesuvius has closed many times
since then and is the only volcano
on the European continent that erupted
in the last hundred years. Today,
it is considered one of the most
dangerous volcanoes in the world due
to the population of 3,000,000 inhabitants
living nearby, which makes it the most
densely populated volcanic region
in the world and its tendency to violent
explosions of the Plinian type. . . The Romans
considered that Vesuvius was dedicated
to Hercules. The historian Diodorus Siculus
refers to the tradition that Hercules,
in carrying out his work, passed
from the country of nearby Cumae
on his way to Sicily and found there
a place called "Plain of Flegaria",
Field of Flegrasien, "Plain of Fire",
from a hill that initially drowned fire. . .
now it's called Vesuvius. "They were inhabited by thieves,"
the children of the Earth, "who were giants,
who with the help of the gods pacified
the region and continued the events
behind the tradition, if there are any,
remaining known as in the name of the city
Herculaneum. An inscription by the poet
Martial in AD 88 suggests that both Aphrodite
as the protector of Pompeii and Hercules
were worshiped in the area that was destroyed by its eruption.
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 10:52 PM UTC
Lying in your arms
Is my vacation
Your eyes are the stars over Paris
Your lips my Spanish sangria
Your scent like Persian jasmine
When you nuzzle into my neck
And rapid kiss me, laughing
Then rest your eyelids
Lightly on my pulse
I transport to that ashen couple
As the Vesuvian magma oozes over
Forever in terrestrial communion
Embracing - as we do now
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 9:44 PM UTC
There is nothing darker than the putrid soul of your heart
Crusted by burnt desires and pyroclastic ash
Tortured by your existence, dipped into the hells of mankind
Bubbling skin and singed mercy embrace me whole
Turn up flames and burn me alive
Hear my screams ****** your mind
Cast me out of the dead, for I am not leaving
Laid in a forever coma then awakened
Pompeii is dead, Pompeii is dead, Pompeii is dead
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 5:33 PM UTC
my fury is vesuvius
and the heat will spill over
and destroy your light
light of pompeii
pompeii of the old
old darkness rises anew
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 3:37 PM UTC
(As seen from Sorrento)
The blue of the sky dips sharply
to meet the ocean, a panoramic view
broken only by Vesuvius puncturing
the horizon. It rises a thousand feet
deadly in it's beauty;
it stands for all to wonder.
Proud and powerful, yet unconcerned
it sleeps; daring to be woken
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 9:29 AM UTC