"aspersion" poems
Willow herb floating
on silent certainty
ashes of sighs
not fleeting,
unvapoured on the
blossom of the rain,
I am too light to
pull or push
the swing of delight
through this land.
The rain left me for a
while
sun unshielding
-a thousand widows
more unyielding than the depths . .
Once shadowed whisperers
of delight,gossamer
sparkling , descending
their chains
of necromantic hope.
Lilith is no night owl
she is mother, eve
and my becoming:
sweet earth spun
at once ,
exhaling her .
The see saw
bumped gently
on my chin
it is a most gentle
form of awakening.
The silence bore no whispers
till sinking through the quicksand
-or was it quicksilver?
-in any case I could smell little
in my amniotic amnesia.
I made ten thousand friends,till their soap
made this place clean.
Is this a seed or a dying
hopefulness
-is my sallow sowing
beyond all shores of
reproduction;
a reflection of the child
they dared not bear?
Is my last breath like this
a forgotton yielding
will they catch me
as I fall ?
-(sweet earth)-
This moth of my ending,
a shallow recantation,
my fears-
their memories, mere
testubes of
stylish hope .
I breathe the elegant stare
you have forgotten .
Once more free
from such
rememberance
I need not ,
remained not ,
your imploded ,
wakefulness .
A thousand pardons
exhaled like silk
entwining
an unfinished race
spider of a thousand eyes .
One may say
I was
stared
to death
but surrogate air
mocks childish pity.
Taut refelexions
bear salt echoes
in silk convulsions
fresh water
a veneered hope .
Easier in death than life
is a child's sorrowed
partings ,
the illusion of
bouyancy
rippled tides
unfelt.
The oceans have not enough salt
for such shrunken sorrow.
if we could but once
have shared
unbreathed aspersion .
The room has come and gone
the pillow quite undry
unforgotten
unremembered.
A web untouched
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 7:46 AM UTC
as you spoke those words
a red vineyard
began to bloom from my wrist
you swore you weren't an alcohol man
however you took the time
to ensure my red vineyard
grew strong.
pruning and thinning
my patience and trust
using palissage
to train me into believing
my feeble mind
would believe simple kind
words said from my angel dressed in navy
my viticulturist, my sweet
you have taken the time
to acquire a taste for me
but in that
you have ruined my taste
for everyone else
aspersion played a role
I thought you'd never allow
and in that
you have turned my saccharine wine
into bitter blood
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 3:11 AM UTC
After years of living...
of loving...
The truth
becomes lies
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 6:12 PM UTC
In the distance I see them,
Dark billows unfurling
A canopy of grey across the horizon,
Forcing the sun into seclusion.
The rain is coming.
In cadenced formation they advance,
Nimbus clouds on the march,
Curtains of gossamer white hanging
In their trail. The rain is falling.
The hills sigh with relief,
Refreshed at this sweet aspersion,
Renewed and restored
By the Providence that
Established their foundation.
The rain has stopped.
The clouds roll on to distant lands, impelled by a cycle that will see
no end.
And all the earth lies content
In quiet meditation,
Radiant on a bed of primordial mist.
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 11:22 AM UTC
Where can I buy to live free ?
Where can I trade off this fallacy ?
Deprived; it's sickening
Where can I find a decent meal ?
There dandelions grow
So very sweet, the tangy texture
To make dandelion wine
I can wake up in drunken slump
Recognizing the fallacies
Its viscose pour of never ending
Paradox pours into my pond of thoughts
Half-pint quavering drunkards
Groan as quavering buzzards
With half the mind as mine
Where can I trade off these endless hours ?
When can I regain temperature ?
In this cold-sharp shower, my conscience
Feel the spores scour within the makeup
Where can I flee ?
From the heart of this country
Why I am I so hungry ?
It's deprivation, I tell you
Quivering motherless tenders
Mend their makeup with dandelions
Bearing of petulant **********
I, abashed of how I render
Under the pitiful aspersion
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 9:07 PM UTC
Mary forks
in meat
from the pie
her mother'd made
her father is looking
at the letter
that arrived
from the school
her mother pours gravy
onto her plate
what's this about
you and that
Magdalene Murphy girl
being seen
in the bogs together
by the sisters?
He says stern featured
mouth open
we were talking
talking in
the fecking bog together?
The bog stalls
were all full up
apart from one
and so we went in together
and did what?
He says
staring at her
his blue eyes
sharp as pencils
talking just that
Mary says
her fork hanging
in her hand
in mid-air
so why go into
the bogs to talk
why not outside
in the playground
why the fecking bogs?
She looks at her mother
who looks away
as if she'd remembered
something important
thought it'd be
more private
for us to talk
Mary says
and you did
no business?
He says
business?
Da it's a fecking bog
not a shop
she replies
and one of the nuns
saw you there?
He says
she's always gawking
in the bogs
I think she has
a secret urge
Mary says
I won't have you
saying things
about the good sisters
he says
Mary eats the meat
on her fork
sorry didn't mean
to cast aspersion thingys
about them
she says
anxious he'd not
belt her one
eating as fast
as she can in case
he stares at her
if I hear about you
and the Murphy girl again
and stuff like this
I'll tan her ****
to the colour
of her Ma's jumper
you understand?
She nods
and swallows
yes I won't or we won't
she says
gazing at him
and watching his hand
no more of that
with her
he adds
he folds the letter
back in the envelope
and forks up
a piece of meat
and chews and looks
at his wife
Mary looks
at her plate
and the hand of fate.
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC
These painted butterfly wings,
won't get me very far,
and all of the trinkets and things
bring back memories of scars.
These middle school paper plains,
won't life me very high,
and all of these photos bring shame.
What weighs me down are the lies.
Inner beauty, and we still judge the cover,
read the Bible and follow rules,
**** all the boys and still looking for "One Lover"
love is cheap but I'm in for the jewles.
Like to much meat for one man to eat,
we bite off more than we can chew,
we always find some way to cheat.
Don't think I'm accusing you,
I'm just as deep in these worldly lies.
The only difference is I look past the smog,
I fly and go so high,
I'm out of the sickly fog.
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
Weigh the bouts with doldrums.
Maunder the era of fallacious months upon the aspersion wrought by tempered lust.
A slow settling stone in blue.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
Prostrate without sleep
abreast with whispering winds
and forgotten word
Uncertainty taints
but undoubtedly waits; let
aspersion tickle
Like the time the place
the moon your face the roof the
days the stars i raze
As it begins to
set in skin; be my trust and
rain with fair roses.
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 11:34 PM UTC
Please hold for an obligatory moment of silence, mute in its act, wordless in its perpetration.
Place artificial flowers on outer lapels, held in place with no concentration.
Feudal rivalries resurrected for resources and land…to be ripped from the native source’s hand.
Pitiful glances at battle worn soldiers, still praising ideology projecting them as a supported saviour.
Unregretful acts lead one to question their behaviour.
Service dogs doled out in bulk, preventing an army of PTS Banners from turning Hulk.
These discretionary acts of ill will mutilate the concept of freedom, and men who fought to uphold its worth.
These incendiary pacts on parliament hill, fumigating for roaches of aspersion, are bastardizing a new world’s birth.
Carriers’ return home, housing the long departed, not to be thanked, not to be appreciated, but to be ****** for unholy, sanctified acts.
Permitted parade zone, rousing the socially guarded, to be spanked, depreciated, and deemed unworthy to stand, before coyly rectified rats
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
I hate you
I hate you
I hate you
I hate how you came
I hate how you left me
I hate how you change me
I hate how you changed
I hate that you always use to talk to me
I hate how you stopped talking to me
I hate how you convinced me to let you walk me home
I hate how you wormed your way into my life
I hate how much I trusted you
I hate how much I love you
I hate how much I think of you
But I hate me most
I hate me for still loving you
I hate me for still thinking of you
I hate me for not being able to let you go
I hate it.
Because you make me feel like dirt
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
Trust that we always tell and seek the truth
Despite the glint in our eyes
The biting of our lips
Trust that honesty comes first
Trust that fear will be overpowered by strength
Even if it seems that Light always carries
Shadow as if it’s chained to it’s ankle
Believe that a perpetual smile will perforate
All the lies,
All the fear,
And all the tenebrosity
That it will pull you out of your deepest sorrows
Despite all the betrayal and aspersion
We must remember that although
Every light is burdened with shadow,
Every shadow is burdened with light
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 5:52 PM UTC
Wind raised eyebrows stop the tick-tock.
Countless creases will mock all talk.
Shoes to dry by spit-run aspersion.
Walking rainbows forget now to rise.
Chancing pavement before it dries.
Old closed sign comforts finish line.
A taste of dull scissors dipped in brine.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 9:07 PM UTC
I see you,
waiting there patient.
Hoping that sometime soon I'll be complacent ,
Enough to let you attach to me like a flea market bracelet and once.
You catch hold it's hard to shake free,
As if in some way, you become a part of me . A part of me I could do without, unwelcome , unwanted no doubt.
Unavoidable.
But there you are, patient.
And now you see me.
You see me become a lesser version.
A conversion , of what I used to be before your latest attempt at aspersion.
Reborn? Right? As a new and un-improved apparition of YOUR view.
We battle though don't we. We fight daily. About what you're trying to make me. And You can't quite grip that i have something I don't take lightly. I have more to fight for, than you could ever imagine. Never thought there would be four. Did you? :)
So. You sit there patient.
Chipping away at the parts of me available. Very much breakable. But I don't need them.
What is available from me mentally or physically I do not need. Anything you may break or batter. You are welcome to because I have things that DO matter. Untouchable.
So I sit here patient.
Waiting for our next show.
And we both know I will see you.
I'll be waiting.
Patient.
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 6:24 AM UTC
~~~
When tomorrow's reckoning
draws a bite
and contemplation concedes to fear
Most expectations
fade their light
as echoes flash from yesteryear
~
Aspersion paid
to good advice
proceeds to mock all sacrifice
Return
of future's past
you see
invades your pride and revelry
What goes around
comes back
to be
In due time
~~~
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 1:02 PM UTC