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"beseech" poems
Give thanks for your Family Give thanks for your Water Give thanks for your Body Give thanks for the Earth Give thanks for the Air Give thanks for Others Give thanks for Mind Give thanks for Food Give thanks for Life Give thanks for Fire Give thanks for Art Whatever it is for which you give thanks, I beseech of us all: just please show some respect and gratitude!
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Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 2:16 PM UTC
Respect and Gratitude
My heart I bequeath you O’ stillness of my universe I bequeath you my sanity Spreading this cloak of being in your dust I bow to your twinkling stars To the waxing sun and scented grass I bow to your springing rivers To the parched grain and blossoming flowers I bow to the warmth of my lover And want of my beloved I bow to your saccharine figs And honeyed nectar in chalice filled I bequeath my mortality to your transiency Blinded by this light in game of ruse Into your cohesiveness, I fuse In blinkers to win the race Espying a king in glass Presage of being a slave Yet when darkness falls I furl my cloak and solemnly rise For I bow not then To your barren fields and waning suns I bow not to your garish colors, To the cloying drupe and wilted blossoms Bracing my feeble transience With my tenet and trail of faith I bow to the King of kings; Whilst I beseech for emanating hope, In my tigers clasp, my God’s rope I beseech, Till the noise becomes music again And as I gaze in the glass now, All I espy is a beseeching slave
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
Darkness wombs the light
^ Be Bliss Beseech Sensual healing Remote vibrations Contemporary beliefs Dissolve within a great force Of electro magnetic Sun's charge Fantasy ride over the ridge on the horizon's Flickering tales and there aware beauty satiates long lost Trust in human kindness which is unmasked is a true longing Immense need borne into a trembling moment revealing thy Love energy is dancing as one giant leap in the realms of Levitation on my shy sound wings as they soar magnificent Wondering why thy tiny serene particles open Everlasting desire to be as one luminous Mandelbrot's rainbow reflection on Edges of a pure cosmic droplet Effervescent dark magic is This darkest intelligent Deep pertinet gaze Absolutly free Yearnin' For I ° ***E A  R    T          H                Di                         vine                                  To                                            Bl                                                os                                                  s                                               om                                     A                        ***            N***
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May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 6:50 AM UTC
Department Of Kind Intelligence
O Great Goddess I Your true worshiper Crawl before your altar To beseech you Grant this poor Suffering soul Even a moments relief From the crushing weight Of this great love Its sweet agony The crippling despair All melded into one great mass of feeling O merciful Olympian Great passionate Goddess Provide succor To this lost and wand'ring devotee A glimmer of hope To tether my soul And keep the Furies at bay In the same way You granted Pygmalion's request And brought to life His marvelous statue Galatea Answer my desperate supplication Goddess of Beauty I offer my self to you I shall strive to restore Your true worship In this cursed world That has forsaken the true gods I shall bring whatever sacrifices you require If only you grant me this boon Quench a dying man's thirst Bring me up from Pluto's realm And lay me in the Elysian fields Great Goddess Hear my plea As a follower still of your descendant Gaius Julius A follower during his lifetime And a follower ever to this day I always serve your great name O Great Goddess Hear my plea Great and wonderful Goddess Venus.
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Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 5:39 AM UTC
A Prayer to Venus
he said/begged, make love to me just like a woman! kiss me toe to head, linger on my neck, trace my waist, begin at my lips, pause at my hips, quibbles intersperse, quips and licks on eyelids, nibble me, near me, close and closer yet unto the glorious victorious near death experience... whisper me sweet everythings before during after and over again, when you must pause to exhale, blow all their warmth upon thy fingers and bring that warmth inside Columbus me with tongue and eyes, take me slow then again, even slower, for thy pleasure, than execute summary judgement upon me falsely accept, then deny, deny, deny my every appeal to oh my god for anyone's mercy! adjudge me then guilty yet again, and to the tower take me to drown in mine own lashing lamentations, thy incontrovertible evidence, mine own uncensored revelations execute me twice, slowly, goodly with lengthy and lovely measures *she said,  and so I shall, eventually, do what you beseech, what you most excellently seek but you may recall, somewhat earlier, I called out shotgun so you must start my dear by following all the precise driving instructions you just stated, and bring your GPS^, and, oh yes, I'm waiting...* too wit and sod this! he gruffingly huffingly, hurrumphingly, replied, *all hell and damnation, treat me like a woman just once pity-please!" *can't can't can't - she be-witchingly cackled! then sang to me the lyrical words of a Nobel Prize winner!* "***You fake just like a woman Yes you do, you make love like a woman Yes you do, and then you ache just like a woman But you break just like a little boy**"
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Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 6:09 PM UTC
he said/begged, make love to me just like a woman
he said/begged, make love to me just like a woman! kiss me toe to head, linger on my neck, trace my waist, begin at my lips, pause at my hips, quibbles intersperse, quips and licks on eyelids, nibble me, near me, close and closer yet unto the glorious victorious near death experience... whisper me sweet everythings before during after and over again, when you must pause to exhale, blow all their warmth upon thy fingers and bring that warmth inside Columbus me with tongue and eyes, take me slow then again, even slower, for thy pleasure, than execute summary judgement upon me falsely accept, then deny, deny, deny my every appeal to oh my god for anyone's mercy! adjudge me then guilty yet again, and to the tower take me to drown in mine own lashing lamentations, thy incontrovertible evidence, mine own uncensored revelations execute me twice, slowly, goodly with lengthy and lovely measures *she said,  and so I shall, eventually, do what you beseech, what you most excellently seek but you may recall, somewhat earlier, I called out shotgun so you must start my dear by following all the precise driving instructions you just stated, and bring your GPS^, and, oh yes, I'm waiting...* too wit and sod this! he gruffingly huffingly, hurrumphingly, replied, *all hell and damnation, treat me like a woman just once pity-please!" *can't can't can't - she be-witchingly cackled! then sang to me the lyrical words of a Nobel Prize winner!* "***You fake just like a woman Yes you do, you make love like a woman Yes you do, and then you ache just like a woman But you break just like a little boy**"
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47
1185 A little Dog that wags his tail And knows no other joy Of such a little Dog am I Reminded by a Boy Who gambols all the living Day Without an earthly cause Because he is a little Boy I honestly suppose— The Cat that in the Corner dwells Her martial Day forgot The Mouse but a Tradition now Of her desireless Lot Another class remind me Who neither please nor play But not to make a “bit of noise” Beseech each little Boy—
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7.1k
A little Dog that wags his tail
The darkness that consumed me made me feel like wanting to die, even before the age of nine. However, let's count our blessings that none of the individuals in the house owned a nine. I find myself engulfed in these thoughts, I make a desperate plea to hold on, just like hanging clothes on a line. The voices inside my head ring relentlessly, like an ominous chorus on this figurative suicidal line.             __1-800-273-8255__ Please could you pick up, it's feeling serious this time. My heart remains motionless, resembling a lifeless mannequin, and if you look closely, you may witness the damages. I cautiously open the door to my own insanity, but the idea of grappling with its dark influence feels overwhelmingly intimidating,— I can't handle this. Fear grips me as I contemplate unveiling my eyes, for I dread the somber reality that they will behold. Once again, I urge my thoughts to remain steadfast, like clothing hung on a line, as the echoes of the voices - The voices inside my head ring relentlessly, like an ominous chorus on this figurative suicidal line.             __1-800-273-8255__ Please could you pick up, it's feeling serious this time. A peculiar itch consumes my lips, almost as if I long for the  Death's kisses. Within the depths of my depression, I struggle to maintain a sense of identity, for this overwhelming sadness has become my greatest weakness. I endeavor to traverse the arduous path of mental instability, navigating the metaphorical distance of a "crazy mile". However, I feel invisible, unnoticed by the world as I bear witness to my own pain. The allure of escapism entices me, enticing me to run towards the temporary relief that a blade may bring,— cutting myself more this time. Once again, I beseech my thoughts to cling tightly, like clothes delicately draped on a line. The voices inside my head ring relentlessly, like an ominous chorus on this figurative suicidal line.             __1-800-273-8255__ Please could you pick up, it's feeling serious this time.
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Dec 25, 2023
Dec 25, 2023 at 9:37 PM UTC
1-800-273-8255
The darkness that consumed me made me feel like wanting to die, even before the age of nine. However, let's count our blessings that none of the individuals in the house owned a nine. I find myself engulfed in these thoughts, I make a desperate plea to hold on, just like hanging clothes on a line. The voices inside my head ring relentlessly, like an ominous chorus on this figurative suicidal line.             __1-800-273-8255__ Please could you pick up, it's feeling serious this time. My heart remains motionless, resembling a lifeless mannequin, and if you look closely, you may witness the damages. I cautiously open the door to my own insanity, but the idea of grappling with its dark influence feels overwhelmingly intimidating,— I can't handle this. Fear grips me as I contemplate unveiling my eyes, for I dread the somber reality that they will behold. Once again, I urge my thoughts to remain steadfast, like clothing hung on a line, as the echoes of the voices - The voices inside my head ring relentlessly, like an ominous chorus on this figurative suicidal line.             __1-800-273-8255__ Please could you pick up, it's feeling serious this time. A peculiar itch consumes my lips, almost as if I long for the  Death's kisses. Within the depths of my depression, I struggle to maintain a sense of identity, for this overwhelming sadness has become my greatest weakness. I endeavor to traverse the arduous path of mental instability, navigating the metaphorical distance of a "crazy mile". However, I feel invisible, unnoticed by the world as I bear witness to my own pain. The allure of escapism entices me, enticing me to run towards the temporary relief that a blade may bring,— cutting myself more this time. Once again, I beseech my thoughts to cling tightly, like clothes delicately draped on a line. The voices inside my head ring relentlessly, like an ominous chorus on this figurative suicidal line.             __1-800-273-8255__ Please could you pick up, it's feeling serious this time.
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My sweetest soldier left me and was dragged across the sea My nights are now silent and my heart is drowned with fear So, here I cannot stand to be Through weary nights I held my guard 'till the stars came out to torment me For, all the beauty of the night was now forever marred My heart trembled with the candlelight So I went to seek her chambers,but all was locked and barred Even whispered words from my dear soldiers could do little to ease my fright I wrote letters to my sweetest knight with sparkling, savage fury I fought sleep away with every ounce of my might Too soon, my hands and eyes grew weary I filled my pages with stories of beasts we would nevermore fight my eyes where too full of tears so I could not see clearly I've lost my dearest companion and the bringer of my light She sent letters back,of course, and they were wept over with many a tear For a day, sprigs of goldenrod adorned my collar bright for a day, at least, I forgot to think of fear Then I had dreams of feathered serpents wrapped around her throat her eyes were scratched out by hoary hell-kites and her heart was pierced with a spear All my daylight hours, and all my nighttime too, to my knight I did devote We continued writing letters and I lead my soldiers too no one ever asked of what this did denote 'till fever caught me by my throat and threw my mind askew My hands shook too violently and ink had streaked my page In my letters, I tried so hard to have my pain seem subdued My dear light-bringer needn't fear a fever's shallow rage She saw through my ruse too quickly and I think she panicked more I tried to calm her with winged words and locks of sage I promised her there was a cure My dreams were fueled by fire and the darkness lurking there when I woke I fell sobbing to the freezing floor She would have gathered me in her arms and kept me in her care Beasts and berserkers set my night under siege I could only see my sweetest knight scarred by bloodless warfare Her spirit fell to the mercy of my new-found, thankless liege My throat was streaked with clawing pain cups of water I did beseech bitter liquid assailed my body and bound my fate with chains I saw my sweetest soldier and her hands skimmed through my hair Her eyes shined like pearls which I hoped she would retain Her kisses on my cheeks were so radiant and rare I knew then never would we be apart and in my chambers with the firelight there I could rest with the keeper of my heart
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 12:24 AM UTC
The Knight
My sweetest soldier left me and was dragged across the sea My nights are now silent and my heart is drowned with fear So, here I cannot stand to be Through weary nights I held my guard 'till the stars came out to torment me For, all the beauty of the night was now forever marred My heart trembled with the candlelight So I went to seek her chambers,but all was locked and barred Even whispered words from my dear soldiers could do little to ease my fright I wrote letters to my sweetest knight with sparkling, savage fury I fought sleep away with every ounce of my might Too soon, my hands and eyes grew weary I filled my pages with stories of beasts we would nevermore fight my eyes where too full of tears so I could not see clearly I've lost my dearest companion and the bringer of my light She sent letters back,of course, and they were wept over with many a tear For a day, sprigs of goldenrod adorned my collar bright for a day, at least, I forgot to think of fear Then I had dreams of feathered serpents wrapped around her throat her eyes were scratched out by hoary hell-kites and her heart was pierced with a spear All my daylight hours, and all my nighttime too, to my knight I did devote We continued writing letters and I lead my soldiers too no one ever asked of what this did denote 'till fever caught me by my throat and threw my mind askew My hands shook too violently and ink had streaked my page In my letters, I tried so hard to have my pain seem subdued My dear light-bringer needn't fear a fever's shallow rage She saw through my ruse too quickly and I think she panicked more I tried to calm her with winged words and locks of sage I promised her there was a cure My dreams were fueled by fire and the darkness lurking there when I woke I fell sobbing to the freezing floor She would have gathered me in her arms and kept me in her care Beasts and berserkers set my night under siege I could only see my sweetest knight scarred by bloodless warfare Her spirit fell to the mercy of my new-found, thankless liege My throat was streaked with clawing pain cups of water I did beseech bitter liquid assailed my body and bound my fate with chains I saw my sweetest soldier and her hands skimmed through my hair Her eyes shined like pearls which I hoped she would retain Her kisses on my cheeks were so radiant and rare I knew then never would we be apart and in my chambers with the firelight there I could rest with the keeper of my heart
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Oh, Laridae, all feathers and beak, how we do adore your screech. Granted, puffy, squawking bird, anything you may beseech. Our sweet Kleptoparasite of beach. House it anytime we meet, with brute force and shellfish plea, you'll be the king of seas.
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Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 8:59 PM UTC
Seagull Cinquain
Of what to Think, and Thought be Thought-of-Thoughts Equalling those Clouds no-one tried to reach And with just a Model-of-the-Board besought Belated Nations took you to beseech Parsley that in Sick Reference apply To One dug-out from Humble Electric Honour is his beyond the Scythe comply And carry his Image on so frantic That is my Code acquired late at War Knowing the Outcome of this Useless Battle As that Spartan King drew his Sword at fore Charged his Army; And the Persian, wrangle. It's News to me, if I can Speak the Truth If only I Avoid what seems Un-Couth.
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:48 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - EIGHTY - TOM DALEY
Dear Father I’m alone in a very scary place And I’m not certain how I got here. I lost sight of the footprints I was following And wandered off the pathway you laid out for me. The wind is cold and the sky is dark. I just heard screeches from the nearby woods And this path ends in only brambles. Kneeling on the rocky ground I beseech the Lord to rescue me. He either doesn’t hear my cry Or this is where I need to be To learn to never take my eyes Away from the light that guides me. ljm
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Dec 16, 2022
Dec 16, 2022 at 9:38 AM UTC
PRAYING
~¤~ω~¤⊙¤~ω¤~ My father told me this is Love how two people show tender feelings for one another My father held me so very close I had always wanted To be his Special Girl Number One in our cloistered world My father used his charm to keep me in his arms till he was done with me. Then I became Uncomfortable Inconsolable Unreachable Unlovable I beseech abusers everywhere Please let the children be. ~¤~ω~¤¥⊙¥⊙¥¤~ω¤~ ~Moonflower~Fluer de Luna~April 2015~
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 5:33 PM UTC
special girl
O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves, Give me in due time, I beseech you, a little tobacco-shop, With the little bright boxes piled up neatly upon the shelves And the loose fragrant cavendish and the **** And the bright Virginia loose under the bright glass cases, And a pair of scales not too greasy, And the ****** dropping in for a word or two in passing, For a flip word, and to tidy their hair a bit. O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves, Lend me a little tobacco-shop, or install me in any profession Save this damn’d profession of writing, where one needs one’s brains all the time.
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3.6k
The Lake Isle
Marmite! (Veggie Mite) Peanut Butter! Marmite and peanut butter, My God what a terrible thought, Both truly vile, Pungent, Repugnant, Foul in texture, Reviled in taste! Never have I ever bought, Incredible how some can love 'em, I can't bear the taste, Smell makes me feel really ill, Worse than any bitter pill! Please don't make me a sarnie, Not with these, No not ever, By all means spend your time with me, Please to you I thee beseech, That these two dreadful foods so vile, Hit the dustbin in big style! By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 3:11 AM UTC
Marmite (Veggiemite) and Peanut Butter!
I've sought, throughout my entire life, what were inevitably all for naught; to beseech a heart as this I would have traded all before it just for a moment to embrace it with all my own This is the preface of a blessing unto a man who lost faith, long ago; the echo of a voice what crept in through mere dreams and left with stoic wanting of what never could be found before I yearn to give my heart for this
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Dec 23, 2017
Dec 23, 2017 at 2:09 AM UTC
Embrace
In this Dragon's Year eighty Candles knock Kneeling to Confirm another Life's Best Your Strength, still sturdy; Your Concepts, in-lock Which Rivers flowing among all your rest I thanked you before for Friendship accept Though Identity was risk to beseech Still in your Paper those Laurels you kept That Wisdom only an Open Mind could reach And guess what, Coach, did you see your Boy's stunt, Flicking himself in an air-wheel Down Under? Where a Hermit Crab's shell prayed his be blunt Hoping his Weight would not crush it asunder. Joking aside, may your Day all be well Knowing your Shoes are dancing, I can tell.
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Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY: ANDY BANKS
A monolithic sculpture stands upon a hill. Ornate work of marble marks the artisan’s skill. Clad as a knight of yore, with stony gaze held high. Pilgrims travel from miles around to fall under his eye. Epitome of courage, virtue, and respect effused upon the villagers traits they should reflect. Elements gnawed at the stone but failed to corrode the manifold of lofty aims the knight would bestow. Dark years beset the kingdom causing disarray- Tyranny, vanity, and deceit led the people all astray. Artisan's work above, a shining icon of probity. A resolute bastion against the world’s impulsivity. A day will come when the people reach distress; crying out, they beseech the artisan’s redress, but long has the craftsman been journeying far away humbly allowing his handiwork, the message he conveys.
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Jul 23, 2021
Jul 23, 2021 at 9:26 PM UTC
The Elder Statue
You're afternoon, my love, and I'm forenoon, and the twix between burrs our saddle. Eros, on your high steed, we beseech your Olympian authority to make mutual our latitudes so next when the clock strikes twelve our eyes, yours and mine, my love shall meet within that same hour, and there we'll dine upon the other.
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Jan 24, 2011
Jan 24, 2011 at 7:47 AM UTC
The twix between
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened... apparently in light of the European i was not European enough, a mongrel, a ******* Mongol... eastern Europeans are Mongols, mind you...                 i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote happened... because the A8 joined...         when the Eatern European joined the old post-colonial powers... plenty of Pakistanis...      do i mind? do i ******* care?! i don't care... you deal with: the minding!     no...   i have an inheritance tax without any ceremonial                                 past... your **** is your ******* **** plus the Arab, and the curry... **** off!             i'm no ******* *vierte ***** pussy-whip... you ******* yo-yo oreo!         mind you? put me down on this one... i hate the Poles... i ******* hate the Poles...    what they did to the Chernobyl me? i hate the Polacks...     don't like them...                i'd rather spit than talk to them...    i've learned my lesson...                     i hate them more than the Germans, or the Russians... i hate them with the sort of hatred reserved for               patriots...   Judas Priests...    i abhor the ****** catholicism... it makes me... cringe...                 then i think: thickens the thong - better than the Islamic crap to mind making a boot... Brexit only happened because of the supposed invasion of the A8...    the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter - somehow the "excess" Europeans migrated...               whites combined with whites... Europeans mingled... big problem for the Pakistanis... Brexit only happened because "eastern" Europe joined the *vierte *****   well... "joined"...       some of us had enough sense as to keep the currency...   ******* Pakistani bullshitters...   what?! i thought English girls loved being gang-rape-fucked?!   no?!    my bad...                 the joining of the A8 disrupted the presence of Britain in the EU...          thumbs up on the curry-sauce... thumbs down on the Baltic sauerkraut.... guess what?!                           **** you! you ******* British Empire bonkers...   relief contra racism with an Empire disintegrating!   wankers...                    sure, beseech alliances outside of Europe...   seek them, find them, govern them...       the next time you come shoveling your **** into my: awareness... i'll be asking... so... Rotherham...           no, not really... don't bother me with that sort of **** you deal with your ******** before shoving your ***** into my mouth expecting me to gargle on the produce...                you're closer to Pakistan than i am to Mongolia... you draw the the postcard... i'll draw the pretty picture. don't get me wrong, thought, i hate the Polacks... i don't belong between them...    i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra of homeless dogs... than exercise the humanity of a shared tongue with these... mongrels; mind you... the British are just as bad... when it comes to their, mongrel stature.
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
the Mongols are coming! / scenes from Warsaw
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened... apparently in light of the European i was not European enough, a mongrel, a ******* Mongol... eastern Europeans are Mongols, mind you...                 i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote happened... because the A8 joined...         when the Eatern European joined the old post-colonial powers... plenty of Pakistanis...      do i mind? do i ******* care?! i don't care... you deal with: the minding!     no...   i have an inheritance tax without any ceremonial                                 past... your **** is your ******* **** plus the Arab, and the curry... **** off!             i'm no ******* *vierte ***** pussy-whip... you ******* yo-yo oreo!         mind you? put me down on this one... i hate the Poles... i ******* hate the Poles...    what they did to the Chernobyl me? i hate the Polacks...     don't like them...                i'd rather spit than talk to them...    i've learned my lesson...                     i hate them more than the Germans, or the Russians... i hate them with the sort of hatred reserved for               patriots...   Judas Priests...    i abhor the ****** catholicism... it makes me... cringe...                 then i think: thickens the thong - better than the Islamic crap to mind making a boot... Brexit only happened because of the supposed invasion of the A8...    the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter - somehow the "excess" Europeans migrated...               whites combined with whites... Europeans mingled... big problem for the Pakistanis... Brexit only happened because "eastern" Europe joined the *vierte *****   well... "joined"...       some of us had enough sense as to keep the currency...   ******* Pakistani bullshitters...   what?! i thought English girls loved being gang-rape-fucked?!   no?!    my bad...                 the joining of the A8 disrupted the presence of Britain in the EU...          thumbs up on the curry-sauce... thumbs down on the Baltic sauerkraut.... guess what?!                           **** you! you ******* British Empire bonkers...   relief contra racism with an Empire disintegrating!   wankers...                    sure, beseech alliances outside of Europe...   seek them, find them, govern them...       the next time you come shoveling your **** into my: awareness... i'll be asking... so... Rotherham...           no, not really... don't bother me with that sort of **** you deal with your ******** before shoving your ***** into my mouth expecting me to gargle on the produce...                you're closer to Pakistan than i am to Mongolia... you draw the the postcard... i'll draw the pretty picture. don't get me wrong, thought, i hate the Polacks... i don't belong between them...    i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra of homeless dogs... than exercise the humanity of a shared tongue with these... mongrels; mind you... the British are just as bad... when it comes to their, mongrel stature.
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111
The Ravens On a rainy night so boring I heard Munin soundly snoring, I grew tired of my poring Perched above Valhalla’s door. “Munin!”, screeched I to the ceiling, Sending the poor fellow reeling, “Let’s deal out a joke to Odin, One that he’ll be falling for - Just one joke, and nothing more.” After barrow ghosts-invoking Odin entered, wet and soaking, And I started with my croaking From the dark above the door: “I’m the first and oldest Volva! All my secrets I could tell ya, For the right price I might sell, yeah”, And I cawed, “Would you know more?” (He is crazy about lore.) “What!”, cried Odin, “Quick, be talking! At the price I won’t be balking. Searching wisdom, I’ve been walking Wandering from door to door. Let my need for knowledge reach you, All my own skills I would teach you; Tell me all now, I beseech you!” Quoth I grinning, “Nevermore!” (Just a jest, and nothing more.) Odin with frustration sputtering, Munin laughing, wildly fluttering, I was dead-pan and kept uttering Nonsense about hidden lore. For his need he found no quelling, All Valhall woke from his yelling – Oh, the fun to keep on telling Him that one word, “Nevermore!” (We thought it was a joke, no more.) In the morning ceased his raving, But that did not end his craving, And we saw our master waving To our roost above the door. “Friends”, he said, “Now I will ride out; Over Midgard you shall glide out: Seek the Volva in her hideout!” - Then it felt a joke no more. (And Munin, to this day, is sore.) Every day we must keep flying, Always for that “Volva” spying, Acting as though we were trying; Well, the joke’s on us, for sho… To escape a rightful chiding, To this day the truth we’re hiding; By this tale we are abiding, And we’ll tell you nothing more!
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Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
The Ravens
The Ravens On a rainy night so boring I heard Munin soundly snoring, I grew tired of my poring Perched above Valhalla’s door. “Munin!”, screeched I to the ceiling, Sending the poor fellow reeling, “Let’s deal out a joke to Odin, One that he’ll be falling for - Just one joke, and nothing more.” After barrow ghosts-invoking Odin entered, wet and soaking, And I started with my croaking From the dark above the door: “I’m the first and oldest Volva! All my secrets I could tell ya, For the right price I might sell, yeah”, And I cawed, “Would you know more?” (He is crazy about lore.) “What!”, cried Odin, “Quick, be talking! At the price I won’t be balking. Searching wisdom, I’ve been walking Wandering from door to door. Let my need for knowledge reach you, All my own skills I would teach you; Tell me all now, I beseech you!” Quoth I grinning, “Nevermore!” (Just a jest, and nothing more.) Odin with frustration sputtering, Munin laughing, wildly fluttering, I was dead-pan and kept uttering Nonsense about hidden lore. For his need he found no quelling, All Valhall woke from his yelling – Oh, the fun to keep on telling Him that one word, “Nevermore!” (We thought it was a joke, no more.) In the morning ceased his raving, But that did not end his craving, And we saw our master waving To our roost above the door. “Friends”, he said, “Now I will ride out; Over Midgard you shall glide out: Seek the Volva in her hideout!” - Then it felt a joke no more. (And Munin, to this day, is sore.) Every day we must keep flying, Always for that “Volva” spying, Acting as though we were trying; Well, the joke’s on us, for sho… To escape a rightful chiding, To this day the truth we’re hiding; By this tale we are abiding, And we’ll tell you nothing more!
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54
Cried a knitter (found **** on the beach), "Look away, guys, I beg and beseech! I'm a **** young ***** Who's not wearing a stitch, And my knitting just ain't gonna reach!"
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May 29, 2010
May 29, 2010 at 3:03 PM UTC
Not Wearing a Stitch
Awakened by the melody of the chirping by the birdies who beseech nothing more but the fragrance the daffodils wore around their silken petals yellow and between their green sepals mellow. Reminisce their time spent under the magical snow bent which ****** upon their existence vast driving them to desert their casts. Comes the harbinger of life, the spring and they bloom with the soothing breeze Each petal of the whorl curls with stories of varying degrees. Why though do they bend coyly when asked about love? Spring is Love , it's here today, The Daffodils Shy away.
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Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC
The Daffodils Shy Away
I am the night siren Calling you To still waters I have summoned the Waves to beseech you Upon my shores Moon tide Deep rain cast down To brush your lucid lips With the eternal Into the depths Fluid blanket Of darkness I am the night singer Bringing you the song…
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Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
Night Siren
I am somewhat perplexed at the clash between neutrality and expectation, as we genuinely present our being on the field of open vulnerability. I seek to find synthesis in this very moment, between emotional thesis and antithesis. Oh, my literary companions of global interconnected and eternal being, I beseech you by the power of respiratory arrest: dare to surpass the line of expected mediocrity, where few will ever tread. I am hungry. Let us acknowledge that "authority" is a questionable truth and let us resonate with the awareness that truth is an infallible authority. The character of perceived vulnerability is steadfast in the face of assumed evidence.
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Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
Metaphysical Fields