"anathematization" poems
I could tell a tale, but its really not a tale at all.
It would be a series of endless walks in the forest and the park.
It would be the places between the world where we could find a place to lay,
where we watch the sky,
bow ties of light; ribbons of years long forgot,
when the grass was soft and the fall was colorful secrets,
when children were smarter then man and people were friendly strangers who splash in puddles, the yellow et red fall leaves curtain our forest in,
I see from the train tracks happening of the end,
barefoot in running to a horizon my spirit chase,
It would be its own bow tie ribbon of light falling where you left to climb the other side alone.
I have tried many times to write close to what ought be written,
but I am yet to succeed, the anathematization of happiness is what iced over when we left. Desolate clouds covering the stars,
and steps toward somewhere un-important,
when you were there and I didn’t tell,
why bother you with me.
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 1:32 AM UTC
An enamoring dowsabel at Ib's eve
Zion proclaiming 'hosanna'
A peri lifting the anathematization off
The recusant hand of the eternal by
Dinn of God; within a whirligig of death
Rearing the abscence of perfection,
The misforgiving serpent fangs,
The Herald star. The father of lies
Circumscribed: a Dybbuk
By a ghostly tear, the revealer of truth
Upon the brilliance of the inner most
Flame in the mist of the fire entering
The ecosphere subsistent as a profession
Of the faith; to work out ones
Salvation clothed in pain, to console
A mourning soul within the sovereign
Lady to know thyself.
Life a flame of fortune!
ELEETE J MUIR
Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 9:04 PM UTC