"aethereal" poems
"You're gonna get tired of me."
Does the flower tire of the sunrise?
The dignified return of that life-giving face,
A crude facsimile of your smile;
How could one tire of that?
Is beauty ever dulled by use?
Does the sheer effect of observation
Cause your elegance to somehow diminish?
How could one tire of that?
You dearest love, you aethereal muse,
You flawless stone cut from nature's sun-kissed tears,
The day I tire of you is the day my madness
Plucks me from this plane
And births me anew,
To again fall prey to your resplendence,
As the sun after each set.
Tired? Only of your absence.
Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 5:35 PM UTC
Where does man, where does woman, where does beast go
When slumber dawns upon their fleshly vessel?
When the twilit sky bleeds into a stygian veil?
When the musicality within begins to take psychosomatic form?
I reminisce over the eventuality that stirred my burgeoning.
It quaked my lucubrations, my excogitations, intellectualizations;
Ye, The Incendiary Phoenix Flame billows within. Rebirth awaits
every anima forged by The Apotheosis of The Astral Flame.
The doughty firebrand in me shalt nought surrender,
The Gaian Warrior within shall ne'er be forgotten,
And my reverenc'd doubts shall be undone.
O, whence all incredulities have been uttered The Leadings of Lovelight shall prevail. The Vestige that once ravaged my remembrance shall vanish into The Magisterial Tides of Oblivion,
We are all one with the Blood-Tinged Oath, The Fulgent Daystar;
He, exhaled eternity into the souls vexed by mortality.
Underneath the Sun:
There breathes an azure vista.
What lieth above our aethereal aegis has incited inquisitiveness aeons aforetime
Open your hearts to the cosmic currents, the transcendent torrent,
The Communal Oneness of The Primal Phantasmagoric;
By that One,
For all time we were summoned.
Question what lie before to be spirited away.
Listen to the arcadian zephyr whisper
Through in, through out your every breath. Trust, the Sanctity of intuition.
Coloring the Changing of The Seasons.
The aqueous dew throngs upon virescent leaflets,
A fulgurant surge fulminates
Upon The Celestial’s bedarkened sky.
Red- Shift Existence: evidence, upon which a system of belief expands, under examination
Therefore, it is our duty to ponder the Legacy of the Sages
That we might unravel the esoteric secrets
That function as a key
In gainsaying, in overturning The Lock of Fallacy.
Finally we gain understanding, we acquire wisdom
Altering our cognitive trajectory.
What is Life,
What is Love,
What is Divinity,
Without creativity?
Without imagination?
Without vision?
We must all surrender to
The Sacral Expressions of Omnibenevolence.
Jun 27, 2020
Jun 27, 2020 at 6:50 PM UTC
be aware of the sludge pouring from every hole grab the stone that stands alone becoming all the mud tickles the throat no mood since it's matterless plays to love prays wide crawling downstairs the lard breaks slips on itself ******* non existence of all of them ***** fragile vulnerable almost make us count them up the racks the slacks figmented meaty mind-snacks
i wish i could hate them all to be so idiotically radical to explode in infinite gorey fragments of love and lust and sweat
the most potent toxin the one that causes vivid ******* rather than ****** death pity and awkwardness...alas
dear we know so little about love as little as its re-existence outside all poeticality and now we try to convince us in others that we do that we are
your mind one of the best kind make every happily inside the eyes
receive your aethereal caress
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 4:49 PM UTC
broken works
undone by time
lie around me
lie to me about the world
i thought i knew
the people i thought
would stay with me
my aethereal existence
threatened by the toppling
of everything that was known
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 3:37 AM UTC