"avila" poems
There's a crowd of pitch black unicorns at a Chelsea Wolfe's concert.
A crowd of pitch black unicorns moving their onyx hooves and horns
at the rhythm of drones dressed in electric guitars. An acoustic break follows.
The vibrations of the music and dancing cause purple flowers to grow,
purple flowers weaned on blood and sticky black tar. There's a crowd of
unicorns dancing at a Chelsea Wolfe's concert feeding on ladybirds crisps
and dragonflies sticks, that once home will play vinyls on mystic turntables of fire.
The purple flowers grow into vines and try to smother the unicorns
to prevent them from listening to bloodred-dyed vinyls on mystic turntables of fire.
Meanwhile in the corner of a museum S. Teresa of Avila's statue animates by itself, walks
to the window and throwing itself crumbles into a thousand of pieces of marble.
The seventh seal has not been opened yet but the ninth the eleventh and the seventeenth
exploded already, cracked their own wax and started spreading tongues of flames
and water to decimate humanity. A woman dressed in a fifteenth century scarlet outfit
leads the pitch black unicorns to salvation creating a safe haven for them
in Manchester and another one in California. They have in the meantime gone bonkers
and started feeding on each other. Equine teeth suddenly grow carnivorous jaws.
Nothing is left in the two oasis apart from a puddle of blood and a pavement of corpses.
It's 7 a.m. Chelsea has not yet finished her concert and her music blossoms around
played by the mystic turntables of fire. That which remaineth is pitch black light
and the breath of aeons lingering here and beyond and nowhere.
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 8:33 PM UTC
an unmade bed
captures an out of body
experience.
the marbled habit of
Bernini's: The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa of Avila.
whether in a lover's arms, ones own arms--
are the arms of sleep...held by the only Lover.
pillow case, bed sheet and blanket...
crease an inescapable faith--where you
for all the world, and all the world for you...
disappear.
faster than peopled dreams, losing their mark
and place...off they-you go in dreamlessness.
therefrom to rise at your fixed height, warm in
the cold light of day--looking down at an unmade
bed.
parallel and perpendicular rungs stripped
clean with a stretch.
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
There is a story about St. Theresa of
Avila t5hat on her death bed, in great
Anguish she spoke to the Lord saying:
Lord I have given up everything for
You. All I have left is my faith; then
The Lord answered her saying: Sister
Give up our Faith. Hard words but
The reward was so much greater and
More wondrous than the sacrifice it
Could not be known. Even so it the
Same for everyone as for the saint.
for the poet it is his words. For if
We would see God face to face is
Our dream we must sacrifice the
Dream to have the dream come
True. in the end to give up our
Labor to experience the glories of
The harvest. Give up the dream
To make it actual. This is the all in
All where the destination does not
Lose the Way. The Hope of Love .
Love itself are one in the rapture.
The promises of Spring find their
Fulfillment of Summer. With each
New season we must have given up
Ita memory. As an old New England
Woman when asked if she did not get
Bored by the autumn having seen now
Near a hundred times? Her answer:
It is a glory and cannot be remembered.
Yet as it is revealed it is also resonant.
We must have a dream to have a dream
Come true-So we must forget the dream
To have the dream be realized God has
Said He Makes All things New.Have we
Carried a treasured burden give it up.
So I lay down these words that they
May be given u pas lost children that
Will be restored to me as in Heaven.
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 11:30 AM UTC
The water in the stoup
was cold and my fingers
tingled like a bell
in a shallow wind,
Dom James took us novices
to a convent where he
had to say Mass
a young nun served us
coffee and cake
in a small room
away from the cloister
fresh faced and angelic
in her framed headgear,
Dei pulchritudinis,
the tall monk tolled
the cloister bell
before the office of Terce
black robed and thin of face,
ascoltare Dio nel
vostro cuore
the Italian monk said to me
as we laid the tables
in the refectory,
she held my pecker
in her two hands
like a snake charmer
charming,
George spoke of the coldness
about him his hands he said
stiffen in the coldness,
Dieu est proche même
dans nos heures sombres
the French monk said
when he saw me
looking down at my feet,
I snuggled between
her soft mounds
as she sang a Beatles' song
and I kissed her milkiness,
I fear not Satan
as much as I fear
those who fear him
said St Teresa of Avila
I read some place,
I twisted the apples
from the branches
as shown by the plump monk
(after Lunch) in the orchard
tempted to bite
but didn't placed
in a basket with the gentleness
of a child,
et quaerebant eum
tangere manu Dei,
Ambition said Gareth
quoting Spinoza
is the immoderate
desire for power,
I walked the dark cloisters
after Compline
the bell tolled me
to my early sleep,
the young nun's womb
was as closed
as a castle's keep.
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 3:31 PM UTC
Rosalie Avila,
she was only 13.
Happy as can be,
smiling like the brightest sun.
Loving life,
while spreading the joy around.
Until that day at school,
classmates started teasing her,
while calling Rosalie
such horrific names.
She started cutting,
numbing every emotion
that came her way.
Taunting Rosalie,
always sat alone in the lunchroom.
Their words were tearing her apart,
ripping away her self esteem.
She had enough,
going home,
heading towards her room,
closing the door.
Her mom came walking inside,
gasping in horror,
seeing her baby girl
hanging from the ceiling.
Quickly taken to the emergency room, where she was later put off life support…
Still the bullying keeps coming up,
teens are now trolling,
even bashing the parents.
Mocking,
judging,
discriminating,
hating,
smacking.
Rosalie's parents are still grieving and mourning,
while wishing upon a shooting star
that their daughter was
never put through all that crap.
Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 5:34 PM UTC
Angels and Saints leaning in
listening for prayer of intercession
'ask and you shall receive' says Jesu.
'Truth speaks truly, or nothings true' says St Therese of Avila.
Jul 1, 2024
Jul 1, 2024 at 11:54 AM UTC