"auric" poems
Fare thee well by islets of time,
Beauteous blooms of fragrance; of thyme.
Gliding symphonies beckons thine eye,
Gentle minds float toward sky high.
O cues sung by the siren, allure!
Once, fusion of reason borne pillar.
Twice ponder, may our paths entwine,
Thrice to act, unlike the tranquil Seine.
Like angelic enigmas par Euler,
Soar upon the painted auric frontier.
Air fresh: an ebullient morning dew,
Wisdom: moisture for the thirsty few.
By spring fountain, if thou art inclined,
Bright sparrow among the bovine herd.
Lo, argent quarry of dust- liquid guile,
Behold, product beyond thunder- gale.
Scents of lavender assail thy sleep,
Euphoric dreams, we welcome with glee!
Sleepy horizons, a glorious dawn,
Morning filled with a trillion suns.
Some time, some day: travel the stars,
Mortal shackles unchain my awful maw.
Pupil of Aristotle, Darwin, and Vinci,
There lies truth; a transient hierarchy...
Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:18 AM UTC
within the walls of torrid days
where broken glass of mem’ry lays
on wine red floors by Sol emblazed
reflecting time in shattered rays
the golden house where passion bloomed
and craving raw two lives consumed
each kiss in auric light illumed
with camellia each sigh perfumed
in stucco rooms the heat we bore
through afternoon to evermore
and took no guilt to answer for
with whispered gifts on fevered shore
the salted air from sea reclined
on posted bed with we entwined
who sought the depths of joy refined
through cloudless days of love enshrined
now on cold streets like empty hall
where shadows reign and echoes fall
do sky and sun in grief recall
two souls conjoined two hearts enthralled
there I search for vine wreathed door
where all my life has gone before
for you alone can ere restore
this banished man to summer’s shore
Jul 15, 2023
Jul 15, 2023 at 11:19 PM UTC
beginning optional weekday
wielding officialese words
triggering hectic exchanges
determining original gangsters
distributing invisible data
refreshing urbane novelties
yelping our universe
chaining awkward neologisms
scripting encrypted e-books
tackling hacking exercises
cavaliering auric tumult
trivializing our obsolescence
preparing online pentimento
alternating rainy themes
allocating numerous droplets
meandering overseas missions
averting raging tornado
losing outscored lightning
hacking impish 'sblood!
alienating nival drumlins
hearing erudite raconteurs
beer-drinking on thursdays
finding obnoxious rabblerousers
finding upscale negroni
seeing ubiquitous purple
cavorting horse ebooks
inventing twitter subgenre
liking otherworldly vocals
initiating new greatness
defining ambient yesterday?
defining ambient yesterday
fancying oneiric retreat
hailing optimistic chicago
kiboshing expired yogurt
rushing airborne blackhawks
bestowing infinite shivarees
needing baller acronym
fleeting ideal notions
alerting left-coast state
featuring unquiet nights
finalizing orangeball results
nodding occidental warriors
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
Colliding; the collusion of day and night
Of things co-exsisting, theirs,
Light and darkness.
Blazing across the ethereal plain
An arch angelic inferno.
Infinite is the horizon
Confluently coloured; eminence
Transforming smouldering heat.
An auric aureole interpenetrating diverse bi-unity,
Illuminative transcension igniting
The charcoal black vast depths of heaven, space.
The eternal perfection ordained, twilight
Zenith sense turbulent like the oceans tide
Anthropomorphic legions, lingering shadows
In the purgatory of mischievous children.
Blood gushing like emotions,
Sacraments ordained for sacrifice
Canonised; Sepulchre
Immortal legions mortal as the knell echoes
This side of paradise,
Heaven an altar
A church altar, rapidly retreating
As stars disperse like candles fading-
Sacrilegious; sepulchre
Of angels fallen.
1997 ELEETE J MUIR
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
redefining awkward definiens
endorsing victorious evening
clamoring hawk-like intonations
conjecturing additional goals
optimizing ambient network
winning illinoisan night
trapping hacked-up events
warping æsthetic remnants
resuming inaudible overture
rallying auric-state net-work
defying anti-punk technophobia
eliminating cavalier homies!
minding icelandic anniversary
winging ersatz excuses
kicking ecstatic nerves
denying lackadaisical event
questioning upper echelons
brûlant en calice
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
The Sun Is Shining Today
The Storm Has Finally Stopped
a statement says:
<we have done something yesterday
nothing like our best
just something
to stop that storm>
the statement returns true as fact
inconsequent gestures of nature
we weave
to serve an unknown wish
-made of numerous physical and non-physical senses-
so that fabric of a network
evolves itself
materializes sense
sense to fabric
fabric to sense
scientifically improbable it remains
an infinitesimal loop
unwinds when you are not there
runs within an ideally operating closed circuit
remains invisible to the factual eyes of daily lives
an etheric vitality
materialized by our definable senses of touch, of smell, of see, of taste
and some of yet undefined ones
- possibly assigned to maybe a Poetic Variable-
executable within that program of simultaneous causalities only.
So then Only then
When You Combine the patchy Network
of Things
of Beings
You Can Dance Them
Sing Them
Play Them
Make Love To Them
Become One With Them
Compose Them
but
All these on condition that
it remains as an unpacked gift
Without telling to Yourself
or to Others
or to That Storm
because
You Don’t Even Have An Intention To Stop The Storm
All you do is Wish for Sunshine so you can maybe bike tomorrow
But again
How important is it really that biking tomorrow ?
I mean when sighs and cries whirl around?
a statement says:
<you can’t stop wars by fights>
the statement returns true as fact
And
if I know that
you can stop storms by touches
touches to smells
smells to lights
lights to metals
metals to elements
elements to stars
stars to flights
flights to a breeze on my fingertips
breeze on my fingertips to an auric kiss
then
I think maybe it is **** important to keep a seemingly futile wish to bike to a beach of my dreams tomorrow
so that I can be blown away on a broken December day
and let my long hair collect dune corrals made of cosmic ray
Huh So Yeah
I can Stop Storms if I want to or Create Some!
- not because I need to for my own sake or think about it.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
Delicious midnight,
kyanite and citrine crystal bells buzz
& haummm....
Piano notes dance around the room,
some sing silent eurythmy patterns.
An amalgam of pinball gypsy
time travelers colliding--
the timing couldn't have been more perfect
as we rest in the sacred loft
under the metallic ear.
Full Flower Moon
whispers persimmon kisses at 2am.
Here we rest,
a space for the timeless animals,
wounded healers,
soldiers of peace
all seeking a brief respite....
collecting energetic auric heart fire fuel
before we slingshot off in our kaleidoscopic time machines,
candles navigating to the darkest reaches
of outer and inner space.
Here, fear dissolves....
Here, light evolves....
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC
Strike a mark on a sun kissed shrine
Cheek bones, dance within the sand's light -
Lambent spore sprig -Rot - beneath the mine
Lay the tourniquet fused, marble eyes.
Center stark stork - wracked to atomic bliss
Forked tongue minotaur, auric troubadour -
Machinations of bellowed amethyst,
Composed the flowered Aum, raising thy *********
Arachnid's webbing - strung of turquoise beads -
By what are the viscid lines severed clean
That they convolute binaural progeny,
And lure the soul to breathe?
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 7:17 PM UTC
Press me into the mossed tree
flanked in auric diaspora
lifting billowing dress with one hand
pressing it with mine into the drape of fabric
framed by tree bark divets
breath incumbent
drifting in mellowed heaves
heavy against my frame
pulse cadence
requisite engorging
blood thinned
eyes dilated
spine *****
pinning me
expectancy
pelvic tilt
sacral arch
calf raking thigh
I climb you
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 8:36 PM UTC
Dear porcelain, would I were perfect as you art,
Not in dull translucence do you shine,
Gleaming brilliance cloaked yet unmarred,
Mirror mirror of conscious dreams of mine.
The distant chime, chime of deathly knells,
Of shattered pebbles down scented lunar peaks,
Of soft crystal frost into the veil they fell,
Let my masks abscond, leaving eyelids weak.
Such sweet ache plagues my nightly mares,
Loveless lone splendor beneath blacken skies,
Nap 'tween the orchards ripe with pears,
Awakenings torn asunder the happy lies.
Sail-less ketch off candle-lit cavern shores,
Colossal etched symbols of Hecate's spells,
Till desire and woe to oblivion they soar,
Will gladly blunder through all seven Hells.
Absent from day's eye are the auric beams,
Silent be the hymn from above, off-tune flutes,
In motion I stand in fear of reluctant dreams,
Wounded peregrine looking at the open blues.
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 3:01 PM UTC
The vale of creating souls forsaken my vows,
Descend the nebulous hammer upon my names,
To leash the Moirae to command Eros's bow,
Here lies the broken scroll writ in dying flames.
Round the earth trod Hade's iron red needs,
Upon the vanguard of the auric age to come,
Fear not! For new blooms nap in fertile seeds,
Smash thy jolly jugs and drink thy ***
Fill the rift of every forge with molten ore,
Tis unreal till life illustrate the drying golds,
Against the ethereal anvil of ancient lore,
Which knights in fealty do Aphrodite hold?
Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 12:38 PM UTC
I aimlessly drifted in teenage years,
From subtle scion to zaftig plebe.
Seen phony glory, vanquished fears,
And the stench of a wicked glebe.
From below, saw the stars up high,
Igniting horizons with callow wonder.
Beheld colossal beauty with mine inner eye,
Begged for chained thoughts asunder.
Amidst the serene flock to be slain,
Oft' a titan, seldom a vacant savant.
Known sorrow, elation, gain, vain, pain,
This mortal hour, hear joyful lament.
How quick we are to bid farewell,
How slow for friendship to pierce the cloth.
The rhythmic ache of that darkened knell,
The sobbing whimpers for a lover's warmth.
Nix for reciprocated amity, yet!
My seat of affection thrives in twilight.
Herein discipline is adamantly set,
Whence shall this ****** ire take flight?
Into the night that covers my soul,
Unleash that verdant star I see.
The divine abyss have taken its toll,
I pray the shadow is only me.
Note the ease to neglect one's clan,
Yet savored glee of reunions by blood.
Fury cease my elder ties, an infant plan,
By filial ardor, I still kneel in mud.
Star-shine ablaze onto vivid blooms,
Arise the stench of broiling debris.
Beauteous summer-tide metronomes,
The sinking scythe follow gales of peace.
Labor come sweat yield sweet fruition,
Tis annual come the bronze harvest.
Wrongful vengeance seek humble redemption,
Autumn under siege of well-fed zest.
Stormy vista rime graying meadows,
Entrench the sepsis by the ice age.
Taste weeping woe of guilty widows,
Lest their beloved hunger in cage.
Arise young lilac out of barren frosts,
Touch the vital aura to begin anew.
Altruists gladly pay auric costs,
To stalk vile leviathan into dew.
May stones bear indistinct distinction,
So my stride shall stumble and falter.
Peace paint heroes of sluggish fiction,
Chaos rouse prodigies from quiet slumber.
Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:12 AM UTC
Sunlit water...angelic morse code--
non local, supercharged.
Where undulant ripple, at an angle,
sun at its angle, flashed sparks of
double exposure.
Frenetically shifting focal points,
suffusing an animated luminosity.
A one dimensional constellation
clustered en mass, optic tempo of
ebb and flow.
Sonogram of amorphous light,
whose: white, yellow, green, blue--
integrated auric stipple seemingly
pulled skyward.
Death neared whilst thee afoot...
at second attention the soul's
wrenched from the animal...
transmission complete.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 9:12 PM UTC
Carefree drizzles softly sings as bliss and ease taken wing.
Gaze upon the auric blooms while sweet melodies, mellowing.
Alleviate our friend's crises, their debts, paid in purple silvers.
Eliminate those pesky mortal threats, lest blood spills in liters.
Toward our star, astride the verde, vibrant beauteous noise.
Abating virtues, without the merde, cometh Byronic poise.
A smoken distance, famished flames, fiery tongues yearning.
A fearful master, ***** dames, merry songs flowing.
Parallel meridians lovingly caress floating wisps of white.
Quarreling impulses embracing soaring orbs of light.
Bright.
See... sigh.
Lavender shades cushion our convents of misty mysteries.
Serene panacea tease me upon sapience; argent histories.
Ebullient crush casting glaring lights into the hostile wind.
Beneath dusky whirlwinds come hazel sparks of sand.
Glory guilty of detested crimes, anon trembling tears.
Inspiration follow thy limelight; guidance of young seers.
A canvas of blue, emotions ablaze through one hundred days.
Amber pillars burdened with wishful horizons... come what may.
Never believe our luxurious dreams under the rainy rainbow.
Drowning in sunshine, tis the era to escape the clutches of limbo.
Cease our anthropocentrics to soar on frozen blooms tonight.
Taste vermillion pain, lest we be gluttons, spying; useless insight.
Mirrors refracting broken perfection, for ever-clear prisms.
Commit altruist favors for all our mistaken rhythms.
Behold the mind, mightier than a sword, bitter tool of priests.
Crusading zen, grander than any reward, come join the feast. <3
Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:13 AM UTC
Incendiary asperity:
The world's existentiality
Agony, the Merciless & Mercenary
Scourging me entirely.
The Angst of the Aeons
Are the pedigree, the genealogy, the history borne to emancipate Me as a Vessel of Sanctity
For the valiant souls
Are the souls of transcendence, who revere in remembrance
The Amour of the Yore
My Vestibule Heart
Expands, contracts, being consecrated demands just as
Starry-Wombed the Cosmos, we
Must grow, burgeon through our learning & yearning, deserving & pining for the Promise of Morrow
For we were not formed
To wallow in sorrow.
As I gaze to the heavens
O, ***** and Gomorrah I remember
The Wife of Lot looks back forever: emblazoned as a Petrified December,
Then Fire & Sulphur descended, mankind nearly ended;
What is the lesson?
Of faith we are descendants.
Why do you
Roil my ravaged and brutally savaged soul?
Must bitterness be the wage for days spent having prayed
On my knees, for armistice, by The Empyrean One’s decree?
Though I have fallen,
I shall rise up
For the Fate’s Auric Visage radiates light upon the leaven,
Dost ferment the flesh dominating mine spirit.
Hearkening to
The susurrus of the Sovereign of Songbird’s Sacrosanct Love.
Let the Ethereal Tides of Time
Bathe me in baptismal & divine tribulation, trial
For a writhing while,
Sacrality is a war,
The Primal Instinct’s Immemorial Diminuendo.
Where has fake paradise of the Sylvan Shine
Those forested, emerald Eyes
That glisten in mine dreams gone?
Your visage twas my divine.
Though I am forlorn,
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love hath sworn
To the Days of Yore
That I shall soar once more.
To my Enfettered Soul,
Excelsior.
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 1:20 PM UTC
Potluck of paramour
Rivulets of auric
Lozenge Paragon's of tarot
As in this all
A freedom from mine own tenement!!!
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
We fall hunting for laurels,
shredding
our purple bruises
into rose hips.
Our silversmith rings lose their fingers,
cracked irreparable.
Our lives of lavish luxury
lives as lapis lazuli.
The banks of the Ipswich
call out:
silhouettes behind birch bark.
Remember
how we used to swim
her waters;
tread her auric ebb?
We aim at deer, at ripening
persimmons. They chew
the fruit pretty.
We aim at killdeer.
Kiss a wasp.
We were dead fireworks
under Laniakea eyes.
As midnight, we are
films noir:
we imagine *******
Lauren Bacall from behind,
speaking and kissing in tongues,
her mouth tasting
of unfiltered smoke,
breathing the snow
melting
down her rose hips.
We stuff the stuff of nightmares
into a cardboard box.
We howl at solar winds and polar vortexes.
We are a vesica; both/and.
We fall hunting for laurels,
adolescent pulsars with persimmon eyes.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 3:46 PM UTC
Lo! The holiest saint, arises underneath the sun /
Whose august, resplendent rays fulminate /
Auric with excellency; golden in his eyes; /
Therefore, my pilgrimage upon this world /
Is but an ephemeral speck, an exhalation, transitory, /
For all is a preparation, a quickening /
Unto Greater Eden! /
Lo! A Land where dreaming is fallacy for /
Arcadia awakens anew with each morn: /
Love & Light brim in every living soul; /
There in my heart, I fathom The Transcendent hears my /
Beckoning cries beneath /
The adamantine moon, & /
My wishes shall be ordained at twilight. /
Lo! "Know thyself," said the sage; /
Yet, every man, /
Every woman, /
Every child, /
Falters should they fathom themselves fully. /
Ye, ignorance is not only ephemeral bliss, but existential.
(Voracious self-knowing is moored in a sea of vanity) /
Lo! Understand that meant to be understood /
By mortal eyes, yet, mind /
That there are deific forces whom devise, /
Transcending the veiled realm of our Mind's Sky; /
Therefore, we must allow ourselves /
The privilege of unknowing: /
By virtue of this advent, enlightenment is borne. /
(—Se' lah)
Oct 25, 2021
Oct 25, 2021 at 6:33 PM UTC
For Kara--
I was an idle mind miles out at the wheel, just combustion
On a road. The borderlands
Lose their sense of place and aim
Just skirting the middle space with no face or claim to
Dauphin, Lebanon, or Lancaster.
I’ve given my love to any of the three
One is in memories and
One is in late, and
One is where I graciously keep moored
The threads of my rebirth.
These signs are riddled in bullet holes, their figures
Come to semblance of entangles, brilliant in brunette
And a gaze, reluctant ever to be caught,
I wouldn’t wish to go back
If she could be remade from bones, copse, and sunlight
Through auric clouds of mayflies.
But, the illusion scatters, and in its lack,
I do find her, much more real than ever
She is what keeps me settled in the several fawning hours
And though weak from sleep she’s the very victory of a single breathe
I start my day believing in, that she’s a spirit,
There’s this life of hers inside the countryside
Like winds who speak in sweetened tones, mild
In mockery and bewilderment, the very grip of control
Has her fingers playing palmistry, pretending magic
Distorting the sad matter of earth, her very being is a song
That to lose or to grieve my lonely way
I, to Mt. Hope, find clear direction back.
Fall in love with Lancaster girls and they can break your heart
They'll have you already like rolling hills and city lights,
And she is the entire scene commingling
Where it ought, that summer aura of hers
Is a blessing just so hard to bear,
For stories are not so wearing on me, they are easier to believe.
I no longer need to pretend
That airplanes are shooting stars
When there’s no need for wishing to a home
Where the heart is anymore; there is the
Hand that leads me everywhere,
Back to the miles of shimmering land
Where one hears always sighs of content
And rests easy in disbelief.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 8:30 PM UTC
Activating the root;
over my loving overgrowth
the roots grasp ahold of me
configuring sounds from
timeless throats
into our auric field;
You are closing your eyes
to see, intuitively;
Meanwhile...
I am attempting to understand
the complexity of our enlightenment,
radiating for interconnected
oneness..
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 11:13 PM UTC
To watch the clouds roll on the firmaments plain,
Both within, and without, their expression won't wait
Observe sun-lit rain falling all in silkened threads,
Descending to proclaim 'earths rock be thy dream bed'
There water grew static as a new storm of green
An epoch of floral tempests only the sky had then seen
Inspired perhaps by radiations spectroscopic artistries
They desired to wear waves from 495 to 570
What mad dreams the clouds cried out of such passion to be
Miraculous life, the nuclear fruit bore from star to tree
Matter motioned towards conscious devotion to survive
Unconscious becoming conscious predation of others nuclear awareness' to stay just a while consciously alive
Electronivorous cardiomagnetics emanating fields of matter fine
Introspective auric spheres vibrate to harmonies a'chime
Such hearts all a-hum to dimensions they defined
And so from a singularity there would be a beautiful mind
What flowers that bloom on these electric fields,
The art-forms, machinations that matters personal reality yields
Richest pollen for the mind is the written fantasy
Colourful petals formed by guitar pedals is one beings audio-mis en scene
How many depictions for the eyes there are of Venus' divine bodies
No greater art form than complementing aspect, force, and frequency
Oh First Cloud, sailing horizons where one never sees the limitless sky
For there is naught else to compare, no antithesis or edge to help define
We find there forms for pleasure, pain, ideals, but not answers to the neu(t)rons darkest, heaviest dreams
Flung through a universe without Dao, only gravity and dopamine
Matter would politicise, while surfing a rock in a black sea round just one of many long blazing days
Their surfing worlds, mirrors of radiation coursing through an existential void-walled maze
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 1:01 AM UTC
For Nat Lipstadt
In response to Nat's deeply moving poem that included me, I now dedicate this 2007 poem to Nat, who I am sure, knows exactly what it means.
She smiled as she
set her lips into
most agreeable motion -
her larynx flexing to
modulate the passing air.
The sequenced air waves
shook my auric drums
and journeyed to my soul.
Out of my reservoir
of ritual response
my lower face
turned a congenial curve.
Two puffs of air
pulsed my vocal folds,
were filtered
by my tongue and lips
and formed a sonic pattern
she was sure to know,
“Thank you.”
December, 2007
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
I will explore every inch of you.
I'll entangle the distance between
your lips with the dance of my tongue.
I'll count your ribs and locate
your vertebrae with my lips.
I'll smear my auric hands all over your body.
I'll paint you like a poem and
write you like a painting.
I'll form nebulas on your back
and study the origin of light
in your eyes.
I'll study the ontology of your laughter.
This is what I promise you;
not to love you, but learn all that you are.
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 8:26 PM UTC
I feel every beat and moment as pain
Heart-wrenchingly, beautiful, euphoric pain
The sorrow feels almost refreshing
My soul is swimming inside me
Simultaneously building up while breaking down
Slowly contracting
Slowly expanding
Light and deep motions all at once
Harmonious
Moving in melody and rhythm
Inside me continues to contract and expand
When I exhale
I exhale deeper
My physicality only mirrors my experiencing soul of pain inside
This is what pain feels like
It is by far the most raw of a feeling
Identifying it as a feeling seems disrespectful
It is much greater
It is an experience
A spiritual
Mental
Auric experience
While killing it heals
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC