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"canonised" poems
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
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Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
Deism
Indolent dipterous demons Disperse maudlin thoughts, omniscient Towards the undercroft as they drink From the sinuous amphora Whilst the knell echoes throughout The belligerant zenith of conflagration Stated still upon the burning of sepulchre Canonised by the death of angels As the blood sheds red like paint On canvass throughout the murderous Battle of Heavens legions. ELEETE J MUIR.
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Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 9:20 AM UTC
Contrived Silence
November first, all saints Celebrated canonised or not. Recognition left as beauty In the eye of the beholder. For sinners accomplishing Something worthy of holiness, Something worthy of humanity, Its nature, the Universe. Compassion, aidance, honesty. Truthfulness, chastity intended In its purest sense. November first, Olive picking day for me. Harvesting season's yield After the longest drought as I feel, The warmth of an obstinate sun Pierce skin through bones To my very core. The same, Beams granting abundance Of golden juice to the gently Reaped pearls of black and green. From fingertips runs An inundating sense Of blessing, intrinsic unity Of substance shared. Only anticipating taste, Fluidity slithering on tongue, An exquisite elixir caressing Palate as globules fall like rain From branches onto Sheets meticulously laid. An event unknowing solitude For it demands collective efforts, While the distant village band Plays hymns to the dead I praise The living and their worth, Waiting to imagine hundred Kilograms render seventeen Precious litres of ****** Olive oil. Chastity unfolding In its purest form.
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Nov 4, 2017
Nov 4, 2017 at 9:28 AM UTC
Raining Olives
come Closer but remember The First time when I Was A Fool … A Fool To Cry ”I Know I Know I Know” my displaced pride exclaims but Back In Your Head i’m Walking With A Ghost who whispers sweetly, “Goodbye, Goodbye” maybe once i was your Heartthrob but you kept shouting, “I’m Not Your Hero” and the echoes reverberate against the stained glass windows of my heart Where Does the Good Go when things fall apart? and Now I’m All Messed Up and So Jealous refusing to Call It Off the unnecessary flirting and asking for My Number because i never claimed to be an angel and the Dark Comes Soon but you were well versed in This Business of Art the art of illusion but in spite of my warning that You Wouldn’t Like Me much you went ahead and canonised me and with that Sainthood i tried to Fix You Up with clumsy hands frustrated I Can’t Take It so stepping away i ask myself, ”How Come You Don’t Want Me?” this relegation to my own version of Hell when Freedom feels more like Dancing In The Dark spinning wildly in your Living Room and Under Feet Like Ours, broken glass your hand holds me like the vice grip of an Alligator's bite and when i was younger you always Drove Me Wild as Love They Say sometimes feels like kissing Underwater to discover one another was like studying the Floor Plan of your heart If It Was You, there would be me and This Is Everything that we would need i would be that Shock To Your System the North Shore claiming lost ships like strangers embracing long lost lovers.
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Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC
Here In Alberta Canada.
come Closer but remember The First time when I Was A Fool … A Fool To Cry ”I Know I Know I Know” my displaced pride exclaims but Back In Your Head i’m Walking With A Ghost who whispers sweetly, “Goodbye, Goodbye” maybe once i was your Heartthrob but you kept shouting, “I’m Not Your Hero” and the echoes reverberate against the stained glass windows of my heart Where Does the Good Go when things fall apart? and Now I’m All Messed Up and So Jealous refusing to Call It Off the unnecessary flirting and asking for My Number because i never claimed to be an angel and the Dark Comes Soon but you were well versed in This Business of Art the art of illusion but in spite of my warning that You Wouldn’t Like Me much you went ahead and canonised me and with that Sainthood i tried to Fix You Up with clumsy hands frustrated I Can’t Take It so stepping away i ask myself, ”How Come You Don’t Want Me?” this relegation to my own version of Hell when Freedom feels more like Dancing In The Dark spinning wildly in your Living Room and Under Feet Like Ours, broken glass your hand holds me like the vice grip of an Alligator's bite and when i was younger you always Drove Me Wild as Love They Say sometimes feels like kissing Underwater to discover one another was like studying the Floor Plan of your heart If It Was You, there would be me and This Is Everything that we would need i would be that Shock To Your System the North Shore claiming lost ships like strangers embracing long lost lovers.
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Hellos feel a dearth of meant to room to manoeuvre The aforementioned vibrissa came to be coupled with corporeality esse Hir effulgent nowhere near multistorey augment some rangi Mlles draws breath granting the fact that which all and sundry wave to or but curtsy Up til ply immensely crosswise ciaos this macrocosm Out of sorts sustentation examinate in addition to operational savoir-faire enclosed by a forestland Into bodies that one yours truly to which canonised a stone's throw away from lasts yourself surrounded by steadfastness en route toward captivation Undaunted summat auxiliary earlier than a mortal arising out of the eradicators live-in lover When ring compared with bidie-in originating at leman acts as larboard eating the dust
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Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 8:16 PM UTC
Beau consolation exists as not dead