"blameless" poems
.
*Honeybees, birds and blooms unfurl
an enchanting spell
when spring comes by here
Memories waft 'neath burled rustic trellis
where flowered tendrils grasp fleshly
like the newness a love once tenderly embraced
Songbirds in your garden sing
of swooning memories rapture.., of velvet eyes,
the fragrant spicy nectar hidden within her walls
A song of honeyed bees' sweetest stinger,
and the poignant ***** of intoxicating surrender
lingers, bemused spellbound by a thorny heirloom rose
Sharp beauty beloved like a blameless trap
caught blissfully, breathlessly inbetween
all you wish for and all your wanton needs
Desire 's wellspring an unspoken passion
coquet swollen buds adorn blossoming,
sensual, untamed carnal grace
A picture perfect natural beauty;
sunlit chassé … feathered brush, demure blush
dancing with basket of lace petal’d perfume
For to colour a heart's blank pages
rapt in the poesy a joyous ecstasy ..,
enrapture with rainbow's luscious taste
What seems lost is but a tender vestige unfound
a passing moments innocence lost
to steal away like rumors of gold
These silent reveries seep from a hole in my heart,
as if ripe strawberries of yore, gently weeping sweetness
when pricked by a thorny rose
The ides of spring do still bleed a timeless ache
onto the page ... sweet naivety stung
by a mesmerizing dart to the heart
Songbirds in your garden do sing
of sweetest things immersed in nature's nectar
blissful memories sleeping in the petals of a rose*
Sung to the wind by a song sparrow — ♪ ♫...✩ ☼✩ ✩☺✩
Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 12:08 PM UTC
Blameless as daylight I stood looking
At a field of horses, necks bent, manes blown,
Tails streaming against the green
Backdrop of sycamores. Sun was striking
White chapel pinnacles over the roofs,
Holding the horses, the clouds, the leaves
Steadily rooted though they were all flowing
Away to the left like reeds in a sea
When the splinter flew in and stuck my eye,
Needling it dark. Then I was seeing
A melding of shapes in a hot rain:
Horses warped on the altering green,
Outlandish as double-humped camels or unicorns,
Grazing at the margins of a bad monochrome,
Beasts of oasis, a better time.
Abrading my lid, the small grain burns:
Red cinder around which I myself,
Horses, planets and spires revolve.
Neither tears nor the easing flush
Of eyebaths can unseat the speck:
It sticks, and it has stuck a week.
I wear the present itch for flesh,
Blind to what will be and what was.
I dream that I am Oedipus.
What I want back is what I was
Before the bed, before the knife,
Before the brooch-pin and the salve
Fixed me in this parenthesis;
Horses fluent in the wind,
A place, a time gone out of mind.
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How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot,
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each prayer accepted, and each wish resigned.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 2:41 AM UTC
A cigarette. A ****** cigarette.
You discovered that I
was a habitual liar.
All from the stubbed cigarette
at my feet.
I didn’t blame you.
I would never want to be
with someone so filthy.
It’s hard, you know.
Your first lie is like the first injection
It’s the rush, baby.
And then you find yourself
unable to pull away.
Always,
eventually going back.
Lies are blameless
The liar is to blame.
I love you
But not enough to stop
And you discovered this-
this habit of mine
all from a cigarette.
A cigarette. A ****** cigarette.
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
Listen to my voice,
i cry.
Listen to my words.
I may not be blameless
but my love for you is without doubt.
All my life I dreamed,
All my life I searched,
For the one I can give my heart to.
As like a great fairytale.
Starcrossed lovers met, grew and fell in love.
Our love, our bond, our lives.
Quickly all tied up in a big great knot.
A knot which I cherished.
A knot which I thought that cannot be broken.
And so... Like a fairy tale,
I believed in happily ever after.
And so as i thought...
Oh how can I forget?
That mermaid have ursulas,
And princesses have witches.
lurking in shadows,
Lurking behind masks,
Carried apples dipped with poison,
A poison that struck the maidens heart.
Oh how we fell into a chasm,
I do not know.
Sometimes I wonder,
Sometimes I ponder,
which is You and which is not?
I may not comprehend,
Call me crazy, but I love you anyway.
To the point of desperation,
i shall fight for your heart.
I shall fight for our knot.
And like any fictional fantasy,
My cry is that this, will not be a tale of tragedy.
But will be a tale told from the ancients.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
I stay awake—
gas,
ion and
tail.
your ghost strokes
my back, fingers
ski-jumping vertebrae
as my face steams into
powder.
your pith, soft and white:
our star in you—
rove to your low neckline in
fire humming comet.
space is blameless in
this limb of heartbreak.
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 12:25 PM UTC
There are worse places to be
There are better
Avenues of everything I’ve ever dreamt of
Stretch out before me like a baby’s crumpled arms
Rugs pave the broken road
Soothing the wavy maze of souks and bazaars
Covered in blemishes
Riddled with secret treasures
Untameable animals scour the pathways
Searching for forgotten scraps
Shadows live in contrast to the midday sun
Hiding fallen beggars
Lying twisted on the ground
Juxtaposition of beauty and pain unfolds
Poised in the blameless blue sky
A tower rises over the horizon
Desperation pours out of every cracked brick
And a prayer floats out to the market
It is perfection, of a kind.
The streets are not innocent
They have seen and heard and felt
Every wrong in the world
Afternoon heat of the square suffocates me
I’m lost in an array of people and materials
Drowning in the swirling language
Eyes stinging amongst the dusty chaos
Rain
Eats away the market’s life,
Dampening red-hot brick walls.
Corrupted skies cry.
There are worse places to be
There are better
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
They turn even on the closest in their lives
They lie.
They are blameless.
They are "perfect".
They belittle you
They tell you youll never be good enough
And you're just a huge disappointment
They strike fear in you to make you hush
They strike you down when you refuse
But you're her child so you must obey
You're her child so whatever she says goes
And no one will ever step in to help
Because you are her child
And you must obey...
Your mother
The Narcissist
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 11:10 PM UTC
They may remember my breakup because it kept coming up. Kept coming back. Some may think that my breakup was the thing that hurt the most last year. It wasn’t.
It hurt more to get my heart broken by somebody else.
It hurt more that I had to see her around every time I was around my friends.
It hurt that her name came up everywhere I went, as obscure as it was.
It hurt more that my fondest memories of last year weren’t with my former love, but with her.
It hurt more that I considered my masterpiece of a song to be one about her, and not about my former love.
It hurt more that gazing into her eyes I saw a myriad of puzzles to be solved and a seemingly endless, impossible maze that I wanted to travel in, but never got to.
It hurt more that I bottled these feelings in because I was in a relationship.
It hurt more, the nights I kept up, thinking about what if I gave it just a little more time.
It hurt more to think that maybe I made the wrong decision about who I loved.
It hurt more to rush into love like I did, and miss out on the one thing that may have been better.
It hurt more never to see her again.
It hurt more to forget her smile than my former love.
It hurt more that her laugh was one of the most beautiful sounds that I’ve forgotten.
It hurt more that I stayed up all night thinking more about her than my former love.
It hurt more to know maybe I fell in love with her more than I did my former love.
It hurt more to think about how much it must have hurt my former love to find out.
It hurt more to think how much I took from my former love, and how I threw her away in the end.
It hurt more to use the word threw away instead of broke up in that last sentence.
It hurt more that maybe a part of me still wishes things went differently
It hurt more to feel that wave of anguish to know she didn’t love me back
It hurt more to feel that feeling of defeat to think I tried so hard
It hurt more to feel nothing for my former love, and how guilty I should have felt but didn’t.
It hurt more to realize though, that through all of it, I wasn’t blameless. I had fault.
It hurt more than a thousand papercuts, cutting away, slowly at me. Taking bit by bit of myself.
It hurts most that my break up didn’t hurt me at all. It was her breaking my heart that hurt the most.
It stings now to know
That there’s a part of me that may still love her, wondering if she loved me back.
But now I’ll never know.
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 3:30 AM UTC
Done with thinking because that's for god to do
I am just this appendage of a greater consciousness
Ahab is blameless
in his small existence
Don't quote me
quote Herman and Freddy Nietzsche
They and their hermits
coming down from the mountains
to declare they ought to have
loved their fate all along
Amor fati
Why couldn't we have been stuck in the herd all along
guys who get love and happiness effortless
no need to spend their life in anguish
searching through tomes
found in tombs for eons and eons
enhancing their social aloofness
and their unremembered trauma
'till those sad souls give those pansies confidence
to leave an exegesis of their own
Too smart kid
that decried Christ and
the shadows of a god all around
only to find the search for truth was hopeless
Find a way to dumbly enjoy life again
and you only say again cause
that's all we can control
our memories
and we too often forget
our thought habits
the pre-neolithic mind tricks
on ourselves
Too many MLMs profiting off false mindfulness
missing the point beyond exercise
and short stress relief
Change your thought patterns to love your destiny
That's the best we have
to pretend to have control in this ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶ hole
Jul 10, 2020
Jul 10, 2020 at 8:49 AM UTC
I
Tomorrow waits in the dried plant bones
splintering balcony karma
next to the ****** galatic twilight.
Moon poems paralyzing yonder
one color chess matches on transcended leather
--thigh laughter buried alive in rubble
under fifteen cushions of red flesh.
Let's go wave our bottom banners undying
in the realm of lifetimes and its spontaneous chases.
Plethora inhales
from one-legged warlords under fragrant wash pillars
obstructing the pilgrimage
of wrapping my stranger
around a blade. The second blameless pantheon
of Christianity.
II
put down the flowers,
thought scars
from a thirsty delusion
that taste the industry instruction
deep in meditation spoons
that pierce the sides of students. Heaven rains/*angelic ************
on the obscure sail drifting towards the horizon
--a mad-religious shape
from the bottom banners undying
III
there isn't even the smallest incense
that the earth's door shortens,
an attempt in debt
to defame the impregnable summer
with washroom axes
on the grape's night before you and I snap.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
Jehovah God the Father
Looked down upon His Son
In terrible pain and agony
But knew what He'd begun
Christ's blood was pure as driven snow
So He could be The One
He would have to look away
As Jesus took on Sin
But He so loved the World
He gave His belov'd to win
All the souls that were foretold
To accept and honor Him
For Jesus Christ was blameless
He was the Perfect Lamb
Yahweh The Almighty
Saw Jesus in His tomb
Christ was sent to Paradise (1)
To declare the Gospel's Truth!
Then to hell's dark doors
Our Mighty King was taken
Took the keys of hell death and grave
From the hands of Satan!
Before the dark army's eyes
He went up through the air!
Leaving the Prince of the Darkness
Fuming in his lair!
God the Abba Father
Gave us Victory when
He sent His Resurrection Life
And His Son Rose Again!
Jesus Christ has Conquered!
Everything is DONE!
He was the Perfect Sacrifice
NOW **WE CAN OVERCOME!**
SoulSurvivor
(C) 3/26/2016
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 11:44 PM UTC
lying in the street
a thin shell
and broken on the inside
some ****** with a gun
rifles for the kids
at the storefront
let them learn
before they can’t forget
i say
this will run
as deep and dark as you allow
whether or not you can tell
*get on your feet
it’s a thin wall
and won’t weather the shells*
i tell you
we americans have agreed
you are either prisoners or refugees
and we must know which
although,
if you are prisoners
you are criminals
if you are refugees
you are blameless
there is no room in our heads
for honest prisoners
and no such thing as
a guilty refugee
tell me brothers
what crimes have you committed
to be in such a prison
how black are your hearts
tell me sisters
what monstrosity displaced you
what savages took your home
let me help you
a man from here once said
let those without sin
send the first rocket
tell me, friends
who is to blame
because we in america
need to know
who to root for
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 9:08 AM UTC
...Short partings do best, though: time wears out affections,
The absent love fades, a new one takes its place.
With Menelaus away, Helen's disinclination for sleeping
Alone led her into her guest's
Warm bed at night. Were you crazy, Menelaus?
Why go off leaving your wife
With a stranger in the house? Do you trust doves to falcons,
Full sheepfolds to mountain wolves?
Here Helen's not at fault, the adulterer's blameless -
He did no more than you, or any man else,
Would do yourself. By providing place and occasion
You precipitated the act. What else did she do
But act on your clear advice? Husband gone; this stylish stranger
Here on the spot; too scared to sleep alone -
Oh, Helen wins my acquittal, the blame's her husband's:
All she did was take advantage of a man's
Human complaisance. And yet, more savage than the tawny
Boar in his rage, as he tosses the maddened dogs
On lightening tusks, or a lioness suckling her unweaned
Cubs, or the tiny adder crushed
By some careless foot, is a woman's wrath, when some rival
Is caught in the bed she shares. Her feelings show
On her face. Decorum's flung to the wind, a maenadic
Frenzy grips her, she rushes headlong off
After fire and steel... .
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She loves every one of her victims.
From the bottom of her cold well of a heart,
she loves them.
She would never ****
an innocent creature;
they all deserve it.
She stalks her prey,
she gets in close,
they begin to whisper
their evil little secrets.
No one is blameless.
She knows this.
Dig deep enough,
find the truth.
It is soiled.
She slits their throats.
*You are released
from your sins,*
she ensures them.
Through hot blood,
they promise they love her, too.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
Valiant are you who fought and fell gloriously;
fearless of those who were everywhere victorious.
Blameless, even if Diaeos and Critolaos were at fault.
When the Greeks want to boast,
"Our nation turns out such men" they will say
of you. And thus marvellous will be your praise. --
Written in Alexandria by an Achaean;
in the seventh year of Ptolemy Lathyrus.
3k
in a land where four languages are official
a church was named only in three; for the fourth
is the language of a weak and fragile faith
whose edicts are above the law of the land,
and whereof knowing a church's name is temptation
and the tempter the sinner and the tempted sinless;
a rock is evil for stumbling the weak,
and if truth offends the truthsayer dies,
and the thief blameless for the rich flaunts his gold;
thus protected by an unsheathed ****** sword
a faith strengthened with every tempter's death
Mar 28, 2022
Mar 28, 2022 at 11:17 PM UTC
O ***** king.
***** O ***** king,
what bitter thing is this?
what shaft, tearing my heart?
what scar, what light, what fire
searing my eye-balls and my eyes with flame?
nameless, O spoken name,
king, lord, speak blameless *****
Why do you blind my eyes?
why do you dart and pulse
till all the dark is home,
then find my soul
and ruthless draw it back?
scaling the scaleless,
opening the dark?
speak, nameless, power and might;
when will you leave me quite?
when will you break my wings
or leave them utterly free
to scale heaven endlessly?
A bitter, broken thing,
my heart, O ***** lord,
yet neither drought nor sword
baffles men quite,
why must they feign to fear
my ****** glance?
feigned utterly or real
why do they shrink?
my trance frightens them,
breaks the dance,
empties the market-place;
if I but pass they fall
back, frantically;
must always people mock?
unless they shrink and reel
as in the temple
at your uttered will.
O ***** king,
lord, greatest, power, might,
look for my face is dark,
burnt with your light,
your fire, O ***** lord;
is there none left
can equal me
in ecstasy, desire?
is there none left
can bear with me
the kiss of your white fire?
is there not one,
Phrygian or frenzied Greek,
poet, song-swept, or bard,
one meet to take from me
this bitter power of song,
one fit to speak, *****
your praises, lord?
May I not wed
as you have wed?
may it not break, beauty,
from out my hands, my head, my feet?
may Love not lie beside me
till his heat
burn me to ash?
may he not comfort me, then,
spent of all that fire and heat,
still, ashen-white and cool
as the wet laurels,
white, before your feet
step on the mountain-slope,
before your fiery hand
lift up the mantle
covering flower and land,
as a man lifts,
O ***** from his bride,
(cowering with woman eyes,) the veil?
O ***** lord, be kind.
2.9k
O Fair and stately maid, whose eye
Was kindled in the upper sky
At the same torch that lighted mine;
For so I must interpret still
Thy sweet dominion o'er my will,
A sympathy divine.
Ah! let me blameless gaze upon
Features that seem in heart my own,
Nor fear those watchful sentinels
Which charm the more their glance forbids,
Chaste glowing underneath their lids
With fire that draws while it repels.
Thine eyes still shined for me, though far
I lonely roved the land or sea,
As I behold yon evening star,
Which yet beholds not me.
This morn I climbed the misty hill,
And roamed the pastures through;
How danced thy form before my path,
Amidst the deep-eyed dew!
When the red bird spread his sable wing,
And showed his side of flame,
When the rose-bud ripened to the rose,
In both I read thy name.
2.9k
**And the Lord spoke in dreams serene
to he, a righteous man within his years,
of mankind's folly, of wickedness,
the Earth to flood with Heaven's tears.
'From the face of the Earth I will cleanse
fowl of the air with feathered wing,
only two from each kind will I spare
neither man nor beast or creeping thing'.
'An Ark to build is My intent
of Gopher wood, three decks high,
many years will thou toil and sweat
but labours fruits will keep thee dry'.
'For thou art blessed, a blameless man
and secure shall be with thy kin
and with sustenance, I will provide for all
upon this Ark, you will abide within'.
Then at God's command, throughout the land
to each and every creature,
two of each, male n' female both to save
... to propagate their future.
So from every forest, from every field
from every byre, to every beach
bird and bat upon the wing, all that crawl
or walk, procure, just two, two of each.
Then on marched they, tooth by hide
ever forward, onward bound
fur and feather side by side
to board the Ark, upon the ground.
Of the days when Noah walked with God
thirty score were his measure in years
and through forty days and forty nights
the deluge prevailed, for those pioneers.
For the fountains of the deep were opened
and the windows of Heaven gaped wide
upon the face of the Earth, the rains fell
and the oceans they blossomed, world wide.
Upon the face of the waters, the Ark rose
until the highest peak with waters advanced
for the days in number, one hundred and fifty
drifting upon that mighty expanse.
Then the 'Lord God' remembered Noah
and caused the great winds to blow
wiping the tears of Heaven away
and closed tight, the deep fountains below.
Then the Ark upon Ararat stumbled
as the mighty waters, slowly withdrew
with the rains restraint, the waters abate
and the crests of the mountains, they grew.
And Noah sends forth both raven and dove
the ravens complaint was to fly 'to and fro'
but, with olive leaf, the dove returns
then flies again thrice, by dawns early glow.
Thirty score plus one, his years then tally
when the waters were dried from upon the Earth,
then Noah walks forth with beasts disembarking
for this was the dawn of the worlds rebirth.
Then God blessed, and bestows man with dominion
over every beast of the ground
over every creature that flounders
over all the birds that abound.
And His covenant with humanity, established
the rainbow, His contract to see
never to cause, such a deluge for man
for that was our Lord's guarantee.**
... ... ...
451
Jul 9, 2011
Jul 9, 2011 at 11:14 PM UTC
#
Forgiveness is
as forgiveness does
and I have fallen short
of breaking through
this family thing
this family, fling
This family hold
from days, of old
This family-fed,
smiling, waving
puss-pocket, ******
Head-in-the-sand
adrenal gland
Death-bonded hold
this fungus-laced mold
holding you down
by your choice to choose
Nothing, but them
And out of the ashes
reaches up a hand
that strangles the ************
aptly called
because his ******* of
your mother.. his daughter,
groomed her
to bathe her pure, firstborn daughter
in order to offer her, back to him
as a living, breathing sacrifice--
Pure.. Holy.. Blameless;
without spot, or defect to him,
the destroyer of worlds
but mostly, just yours --
his dearly, dearly Beloved.
#
May 22, 2021
May 22, 2021 at 6:16 PM UTC
1388
Those cattle smaller than a Bee
That herd upon the eye—
Whose tillage is the passing Crumb—
Those Cattle are the Fly—
Of Barns for Winter—blameless—
Extemporaneous stalls
They found to our objection—
On eligible walls—
Reserving the presumption
To suddenly descend
And gallop on the Furniture—
Or odiouser offend—
Of their peculiar calling
Unqualified to judge
To Nature we remand them
To justify or scourge—
2.7k
869
Because the Bee may blameless hum
For Thee a Bee do I become
List even unto Me.
Because the Flowers unafraid
May lift a look on thine, a Maid
Alway a Flower would be.
Nor Robins, Robins need not hide
When Thou upon their Crypts intrude
So Wings bestow on Me
Or Petals, or a Dower of Buzz
That Bee to ride, or Flower of Furze
I that way worship Thee.
2.6k
She's magnetic.
I am a washer,
Pulled in by her.
I am awash
With want.
She's turned me desperate,
Starved animal.
I was so forlorn
She felt guilty.
Her eyes strained to see me,
Sad sap.
I'm not in love,
I'm insane.
Possessed by some succubus.
Tapped into my carnal flaw.
How could a demon
Smell so sweet?
Harmless sin.
Blameless craving.
She carried salvation to me
In her hands.
Her mouth.
She baptized my body.
I am reborn
Wicked as ever.
Skin wet.
Eyes open.
Every nerve aching
For her.
I am made by her.
For her.
I am succumbed to her.
To her spider hands,
And her rotten mouth,
Her allure.
I am helpless to her charms,
And I'm growing weaker every day.
Then she left.
She made me
Vulnerable.
It hurt.
But she was
To die for.
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 2:00 PM UTC
667
Bloom upon the Mountain—stated—
Blameless of a Name—
Efflorescence of a Sunset—
Reproduced—the same—
Seed, had I, my Purple Sowing
Should endow the Day—
Not a Topic of a Twilight—
Show itself away—
Who for tilling—to the Mountain
Come, and disappear—
Whose be Her Renown, or fading,
Witness, is not here—
While I state—the Solemn Petals,
Far as North—and East,
Far as South and West—expanding—
Culminate—in Rest—
And the Mountain to the Evening
Fit His Countenance—
Indicating, by no Muscle—
The Experience—
2.6k