"arraign" poems
When I hear you express an affection so warm,
Ne’er think, my belov’d, that I do not believe;
For your lip would the soul of suspicion disarm,
And your eye beams a ray which can never deceive.
Yet still, this fond ***** regrets, while adoring,
That love, like the leaf, must fall into the sear,
That Age will come on, when Remembrance, deploring,
Contemplates the scenes of her youth, with a tear;
That the time must arrive, when, no longer retaining
Their auburn, those locks must wave thin to the breeze,
When a few silver hairs of those tresses remaining,
Prove nature a prey to decay and disease.
Tis this, my belov’d, which spreads gloom o’er my features,
Though I ne’er shall presume to arraign the decree
Which God has proclaim’d as the fate of his creatures,
In the death which one day will deprive you of me.
Mistake not, sweet sceptic, the cause of emotion,
No doubt can the mind of your lover invade;
He worships each look with such faithful devotion,
A smile can enchant, or a tear can dissuade.
But as death, my belov’d, soon or late shall o’ertake us,
And our ******* which alive with such sympathy glow,
Will sleep in the grave, till the blast shall awake us,
When calling the dead, in Earth’s ***** laid low.
Oh! then let us drain, while we may, draughts of pleasure,
Which from passion, like ours, must unceasingly flow;
Let us pass round the cup of Love’s bliss in full measure,
And quaff the contents as our nectar below.
1.7k
As the author was discharging his Pistols in a Garden, Two
Ladies passing near the spot were alarmed by the sound of a
Bullet hissing near them, to one of whom the following
stanzas were addressed the next morning.
Doubtless, sweet girl! the hissing lead,
Wafting destruction o’er thy charms
And hurtling o’er thy lovely head,
Has fill’d that breast with fond alarms.
Surely some envious Demon’s force,
Vex’d to behold such beauty here,
Impell’d the bullet’s viewless course,
Diverted from its first career.
Yes! in that nearly fatal hour,
The ball obey’d some hell-born guide;
But Heaven, with interposing power,
In pity turn’d the death aside.
Yet, as perchance one trembling tear
Upon that thrilling ***** fell;
Which I, th’ unconscious cause of fear,
Extracted from its glistening cell;—
Say, what dire penance can atone
For such an outrage, done to thee?
Arraign’d before thy beauty’s throne,
What punishment wilt thou decree?
Might I perform the Judge’s part,
The sentence I should scarce deplore;
It only would restore a heart,
Which but belong’d to thee before.
The least atonement I can make
Is to become no longer free;
Henceforth, I breathe but for thy sake,
Thou shalt be all in all to me.
But thou, perhaps, may’st now reject
Such expiation of my guilt;
Come then—some other mode elect?
Let it be death—or what thou wilt.
Choose, then, relentless! and I swear
Nought shall thy dread decree prevent;
Yet hold—one little word forbear!
Let it be aught but banishment.
1.6k
1752
This docile one inter
While we who dare to live
Arraign the sunny brevity
That sparkled to the Grave.
On her departing span
No wilderness remain
As dauntless in the House of Death
As if it were her own—
1.5k
Hush’d are the winds, and still the evening gloom,
Not e’en a zephyr wanders through the grove,
Whilst I return to view my Margaret’s tomb,
And scatter flowers on the dust I love.
Within this narrow cell reclines her clay,
That clay, where once such animation beam’d;
The King of Terrors seiz’d her as his prey;
Not worth, nor beauty, have her life redeem’d.
Oh! could that King of Terrors pity feel,
Or Heaven reverse the dread decree of fate,
Not here the mourner would his grief reveal,
Not here the Muse her virtues would relate.
But wherefore weep? Her matchless spirit soars
Beyond where splendid shines the orb of day;
And weeping angels lead her to those bowers,
Where endless pleasures virtuous deeds repay.
And shall presumptuous mortals Heaven arraign!
And, madly, Godlike Providence accuse!
Ah! no, far fly from me attempts so vain;—
I’ll ne’er submission to my God refuse.
Yet is remembrance of those virtues dear,
Yet fresh the memory of that beauteous face;
Still they call forth my warm affection’s tear,
Still in my heart retain their wonted place.
1.4k
the planets will align
every once in awhile
to arraign all who need
or are deserving of it
those who find themselves
treading the wrong path
those who can no longer
see what lies ahead
despite all those
gazing upwards
silently questioning
these immaterial messages
will be overlooked
unheeded by the majority
only recognised by the few
comprehended by even fewer
this singular occurrence
rare and rarefied
may be explainable
in its most basic sense
logistically
empirically
to even the layman
it is but a simple matter
of timings and orbits
calculations of gravity
versus mass and inertia
but that which truly matters
the universal push and pull
will leave even
the most discerning of minds
in the dark
Oct 31, 2023
Oct 31, 2023 at 3:25 PM UTC
sweet skin, sweet
taste September,
tomato-stained
pallet boiling to
an icecream froth,
eyes blue-moon
blue-cheese blue-
sea blue-teaful,
planets in arraign
of Pluto, far out
years before back
-hand kiss to back
-hand slap to my
metallic tears first
come first serve
arriving home drunker
than Charles Bukowski
on the average day, I
hope to be the barfly
of her heart.
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 1:36 PM UTC
There's nothing to commend
merely rickety pathways
spoken up by illusionary politicians
selling their porcupine colours,
although we the People are tolerant,
there's still time to arraign
this impractical impasse
sworn with nylon rope
and hubbub boots.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 6:26 PM UTC
the maze
inside the rules of the car
you promise me that no matter what
insane or compromising thought might
have arisen from either our mouths,
there would always be the maze to keep us as friends- naked friends. ******* friends. hot, **** blonde and brown haired beasts summoning our human equity to arouse and arraign each other, each's other:
say,
drowning in internacional shipping bombings, lost at terminals, aboard flights.
noting our beasts
the minimalist pianissimo of black and white keys, the growing spirits of a Richter violin filling us up
with anti-matter, inside this hours black tideless extremes. this place's mooring soporific tinders. You placed this cart of humanness too close to the life you live
even say,
rules i wanted to know but
never have to practise in your absence
nowness self-less and losing to the light, losing to the ocean, each ounce of life is now vastly different
inside of me
where dead worms
cannot crawl
i continue to die beside your sprawl
where heavy night brings memories of
your skin affixed n entwined
each of your twelve unspoken names
each of these hours that won't be mine
and as this box of earth resigns
its peace, i wish never to have known
this haunting sea, where quaffing like
the enigma of misery
my secret voice cannot be free
my eyes cannot bare their sight to see
if ever chance should be
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 4:02 AM UTC
and walk in it.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMXV)
O wherefore do I echo Job? to hail
"My soul is weary of my life--" from hence
As ver'ly true and what dogs me fr'intents
Now Mum is not, nor any lover? They'll
Arraign me for it, doubtless, cuz t'avail
I still have joys, smile for the sparrows, fence
These posting hour with prayrs He'd give me thence
Unto a husband, aye to bear kids' tale.
And come, why does my path dissolve as twere
Each step I take? aught moments passed gone to
Obliv'on whilst my fingers grapple for (in puir
'Scuse) all I seemed to have? March skies are blue
Sans clouds, the caller breath mild as it'd stir
Trees' naked boughs to trembling, and where to?
15Mar18a
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 8:45 PM UTC
Thank you for all the late-night talks;
Long insightful walks.
For always being the one thing that kept me partially sane;
When my whole world thunders and rains.
I appreciate all the laughs you have brought;
The shenanigans that thankfully weren’t caught.
Thank you for being my rock MaryJane;
Though my love for you may seem bitterly arraign.
Most of all thank you for controlling my anxiety;
And keeping benzos from being a life’s priority.
No matter what you always knew how to make me feel better.
For that I dedicate you this thank you letter.
I value all the friendships you have bestowed in my life past these years;
Especially the ones no longer here…
I am not saying the only good people in my life are because of you;
But **** you have brought good company through.
You introduced me to old souls;
Never drove me from my goals.
Many have stated their opinions of you:
I don’t care though; to me you will always be true.
After all these years;
I am almost in tears.
You have always been by my side;
Always along for the ride.
I temporarily must part my ways;
Because the legal system claims our friendship is not okay.
To me you were more than ***
You were my **** rock.
Thank you MaryJane.
-C. Jackson.
Apr 3, 2020
Apr 3, 2020 at 6:53 AM UTC
Anger only emotion acts like a Coxswain
In letting one to proceed to detain
One’s personality in public and explain
Debility of his character; and retain
Idiosyncratic nature to volplane
Into darkness, where no restrain
On future works as you be overlain.
Any work small, trivial, tiny or main
Will be spoilt or executed. Arraign
All, so be a clever fox to abstain
It from your worthy life and again
Anger – an avenger – is ready to regain
The control of very self to pertain
To earlier code of conduct to sustain.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 7:47 AM UTC
Among all cousins of mine in a lane
There is he very profound, and plain.
Strong though shows none in skein;
Always ready for hospitability in rain
Without thinking for self even if slain.
Had a son and a daughter – both reign
His kingdom and never wished to deign.
My Bhabhi is a great soul – decent again;
Never spoke a bad word – is a gem in pane.
All the family tries to help others in arraign.
Thanks to god for such sweet family to attain.
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 6:14 AM UTC
Ha. I've too much stacked up on all accounts for your feeble dispute, if any, to be heard.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCLXXII)
He led me on a wild goose chase, to thence
Look was't half sheepish, 'fessing in betrayl
Twas all a ruse. No kisses either, pale
Night bitter, though alive and listning hence
Mair keenly than I cared t'acknowledge, sense
Upon its honour as a watchman they'll
Arraign for sleeping on his post, t'avail
I had a ball despite was't ill intents?
What DOES "I love you" signify as twere?
Folk never knew what was afoot 'til to
Effect twas: over. He's most chummy fer
Good show now my heart's lost. The weeks we two
Spent in a whirlwind romance are gone, poor
As his late overtures who can not woo.
27Jan19b
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 12:41 AM UTC