#virgil
It's so "fun" trying to fit these hugemongous Roman names into iambic pentametre.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCXXIII)
So, read an essay on erm, Virgil, frail
As thinking THAT meant aught, and for pretense
Is't lo, Thucydides, to spose I'd sense,
Petrarca's life in um, a nutshell's scale
Of knowledge, even la, Justinian's tale--
Since haunted by those cobbled streets, and hence,
If not the air of Roman days, fr'intents
Those columned cities sages knew t'avail.
And either that, or Valentines in tour
Have ta'en my spirit from me, til I view
All we had joyed in ere as from as twere
A colder distance, seeing, yet voiceless to
Effect, life upside-down, or mine in poor
Scuse, e'en as April haunts the thought life'd woo.
21Feb19a
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 9:37 PM UTC
No moon showing her lustrous wonder
No stars set ablaze
Only clouds sounding of thunder
Plunging rain greeting my gaze
Drops tasting of flame and damnation
Through a gap a gossamer star palpitates
Lonely and lost in its constellation
Only dolorous moans encapsulate
Gasping at fetid air
Face gurgling above scalding blood
Phlegethon, river of despair
My flesh becomes the mud
A figure appears over the precipice
A living body one that is whole
A lost man seems not necessitous
None that can help this tortured soul
A half horse is with he
Bow strung aimed at me
Risen higher than I should be
Arrow loosen my flesh stings
Awaken in sweat, four walls surrounding
A guilty conscience stewed this dream
Enclosed in darkness, alone, wailing
Recurring... haunting... blaspheme...
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 6:29 AM UTC
The deliverance of life echoed into that of pounding death
This frozen tower metamorphosing into a coffin sealed and fated
That gorgon’s gaze did I meet and uttered not a breath
Lost in those frightened eyes, thoughts left me sedated
“You stare so... Father, what is it?”
There I sat, day circling into night
By the dawn light through a reflection
I caught through their tragic sight
Left me gnawing at my hands, objection
“You put this wretched flesh upon us and now you may strip it off!”
Calmed my soul and silence we sat, another moon waxing
“Father, why don’t you help me?”
Left your lips while your languid soul seeps
Blind now with no words to offer
One by one perished but never did I weep
In the end
Hunger proved more powerful than grief.
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC
We’ll play at being poets
You’ll be Dante and I’ll be Virgil
And I’ll guide you through hell and back.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 9:38 AM UTC
Can a man reach the height of his dreams?
The true mechanic of righteous action
Outstretched grip of the ripping seams
Tumble down from its holy retraction
And realize everything is for naught
And everything you have ever sought
Lies in his graces dazzling bright palace
Lies of my own form the cracked floors of solace
Filled with the bloated, pallid, and free of ambitions
Tangled hair and deepening wound of my intention
A ****** pond greets you with its callous retention
Stowed beneath, dark images taunt these last mentions
As they all remember this will be their
home
As they lay down and look to god's cryptic
dome
And they all search
He is not one but alone with the
masses
Stolen from him, he finds his future passes
From teary grip
I guess it will never rain in these fields
because it is pouring
God has closed this asylum, to contain shades from Elysium
For you see a sudden sight, multiplied by their unending night
Lead hauntings to stare through their own shapeless eyes,
In the fields of mourning
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 5:49 PM UTC
By David John Mowers
Oceanus, Acheron, Styx and Gyges, Phlegethon,
Phaeacians lament, mourn the loss, Scheria, dissolved in froths.
Virgil’s tale, found correct, a land too good, a nation wrecked,
Nausikaa, burn the ships; their minds released, cool airy nips,
Below the wave, watery grave, submerged to bottom, fathoms by stave,
Fathoms some more, until the whorl, descending to, another world.
Through Omphalos, to Land of Sleep, awaits a beast, where time has ceased,
Darkness here, underworld, cold and frigid, below the whirl,
In solemn grave, souls released, judged and counted, by the beast,
Deeper than, the deep itself, past drowning fairies and dying elves,
Who did mourn them? Those golden men, magic mariners, Mino's kin?
What wrong was seen? What vice not true? What awful sin? What did they do?
One thousand years, first black age, Two thousand more, to find the stage,
Cast off Aries and cast Orion, to find beginning, of Golden Lion.
Man of Heavens, Beast agrees, Bull of Sky, Ox of seas,
Land of Punt, Land of Éire, Ogyges blue, hearts on fire,
All the seashores, all the mines, Tribe of Dan, from ancient times,
Port of Sais, Port of Thera, Port of Lagash, bygone era,
Sailor’s horse, Minotaur, a lyre is crying, strummed guitar, nation dying, abattoir.
Ochre foams to sanguine depth, there they rested, where Kronos slept,
He’ll never answer, he doesn’t care, we’ll never know, if this was fair.
Our hearts in sadness, hands on the gates! I curse you Poseidon!
. . .and your Sea of Fates!
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC
In pursuit of an elusive harmony
summer nights rolled away from us
reverberating into a numinous bass line
while reconciling our dreams
with a burgeoning truth
Flustered with desire
and walking in a non-ordinary reality. Lost within the Source
of all there is and ever was. We re-animated
navigating through portals unexplained
to retrieve this love
We plied our differences into commonality
and re-aligned our fractured selves using the agency
of synchronicity - having found
an immutable archetypal truth
and having found from where our self-portraits flow
Much more than soul mates, Plato
offers stories of Zeus splitting souls in half
as punishment for pride.
In this incarnation, have we found humility?
Will this be enough to carry us back to nobility?
It is challenging to find your way back
into a lover's arms. Mistakes haunt us eternally (if we allow for that)
but every morning if we awake
and let go, using the suns setting and rising as a reminder that
with experience, guidance, and repetition ... it gets easier
My half soul
awoke as my mortality decomposed
when half becomes one, then the real turmoil begins
from the shores of St. Mary, Raven calls
and I follow my destiny into an Obsidian Night
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
Virgil:
For all your troubles,
Wisdom, guidance-
Dante still left you in hell.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC
*The Guide and I into that road
Now entered, to return to the bright world;
And without care of having any rest 135
We mounted up, he first and I the second,
Till I beheld through a round aperture
Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear;
Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.*
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC
I put God on the stand once
It didn't go so well
Omniscience doesn't translate
Into duality
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 8:14 AM UTC
Yesterday, I sat on the shores of Acheron.
It was before christ or maybe British Columbia hard to tell, my lens was clouded
The mushrooms were telling a story.
Do you know what story they told me?
The truth hurts cause the truth comes from the ******** of bovine
And we are all bovine … some sacred … some dinner … some just simply cows
And I wish I had bovine spongiform encephalopathy
At least then I would have an excuse for being a mad cow or raging bull
Either/or, a **** machine is a good thing for this world
Because: mushrooms.
You have to go in through the out door
And Frost told us long ago “The only way out is through”
And Rogan gives this knowledge away in the aether via Amber.
So what does the gateway into the **** have to say to me?
We are the monsters under the bed. The spectre’s lurking in the closets
And Yahk, BC is the place where answers get spewn out in chunks and spurts.
I thought the only way into the underworld was Grecian.
But a warrior poet knows the way,
And Chris would always and in all ways die for Bella.
Cause what is an eternity without your One
It is eternal damnation
So across the river our hero goes.
He slays everything in his path, beast or brethren
Now the illusion is destroyed
The underworld is deceased except for one.
Residing in the mirror lives the final causality
Casualty?
Only if you want out.
And out is through
So you destroy the Self - id, ego, super-ego … you decide
Covenant in disarray.
And what is born out of it?
The river styx no longer
But instead … the river phoenix
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
Wizards, witches, and warlocks
Charge nurses really,
Isn't that ionic
And yes I really do think
Much more intelligentsia than wet nurses
But everything has a time and place
Expressionless Gene
Wilder
And warlords destroy beauty and intelligentsia chasing a lost or stolen dream
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
Look me in the eyes and tell me I am not already dead.
Look within my soul and tell me, all is finally at an end.
Look with your silver eyes, which reflect my very own.
A chaotic wind right before the deadly storm.
The redden horizon, fading into the coldest of blue.
A will of a way, left to burn within the goodwill of our mortal souls.
I see you Dear Brother...
A man shroud in the facade of a devils red clothing.
But men, we are not...
Are we, O brother of mine?
Two hidden lies, masked within a mould of our own demise.
A shell our mother has bestow upon her demon spawns.
Masqueraded truths smeared, until all came crumbling down.
I spoke of my hatred as I slipped from your grasp.
I fell into Hell with a malevolent wrath,
a curse befalling my tongue;
I hate you
Another lie, another sin.
Added to a pile of our transgression,
shadowing us in its path of our own destruction.
Look into my heart and see my love.
A love, which has not commenced into something dark and malcontent.
Look and see another me, (mirrored in your stare.)
Look and believe all is fine.
Look and tell me my blue coated wrath,
is nothing compared to the inferno of a burning Dante
while playing the part of your savior, Virgil.
Two souls, forever intertwined.
Both born under the sacred son,
but destined to fall under baited spikes.
When will there be rest, O Brother?
With my blade in your chest?
Or the indirect request of your blessed reprieve?
Look, before all is too far gone...
nigh is the time,
Look and you might just see...
Me.
but alas just yet,
maybe,
you shall see a piece of yourself as well.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
Dull lips give way to a finely sharpened tongue.
Soft skin slides underhand like roughly hidden scales.
*You asked of me to bare my blood.
Both times I cut my veins for you.
Both times you asked for more
And I bled once again,
for you, my Prince.*
A hand touches my soul; held within the demons greedy paws.
All the while, I wonder why, I let you continue to rein over me.
An insufferable plague you have bestowed over my brow.
Nay...
My heart.
My heart quakes from Lust's tightening grip.
My veins bleeding for you...
A card dealt from the sleight of a devils right hands.
A dagger in the left, aimed for the back.
- Hark -
The call of darkness beckons me on-wards.
Calling me home through the red fog and the vile pit of hatred.
*When you asked for me; I was yours.
Then, when you asked for another,
I withdrew...*
You are an enigma, in your entirety.
Oh, sweet angel
burden with a devils twisted soul.
You shall burn forlorn in a delightful blue flame.
*Alas, ask once more my Nephilim Prince.
Ask;
and I shall bleed my veins for you.*
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 6:10 PM UTC