"carpathian" poems
Constant understanding that
holds my mouth ajar.
reminiscent stars tangle with words like
"How" and "are"
tangled, mangled, strangled with that
Transylvanian tongue.
Straightened teeth bore with smile.
Oh, how the world has waited for such.
Lovely questions of impaling rulers
drinking blood
and vernacular across Carpathian
Hungarian
store owners.
Polski #1 says beautiful,
Polski #2 asks for no answer,
Orthodox Orthodontia
and Ignorance taint this experience
however lovely it may seem.
Cold is the only embrace
shaking hands struggle to write
every letter of every word presents one
good fight.
Tooth and Nail.
Glances glance eyes,
golden demise of any sort of
inside.
A perfect scowl.
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 10:23 PM UTC
Titanic
****** berth, she stands,
Maiden stream deflowering the
sunlight.
Immense furore along the dock.
Streamers, banners, brass bands.
Herald the beginning of
the end.
Magnificent and stately,
There she stands, a glory to behold.
Pomp and splendour,
Wealth with greed,
All set to sail the seven seas.
A dream of life,
A life of dreams
Splendour of their own,
Scrambling ice mountains, glisten
Shining a fateful allure to a frozen death
A stern captain,
Calm, dignified,
Guides the ship of dreams unto her nightmare,
“Astern”, he cries, unheard through
muffled joy….
Crunching, crashing, listing,
A myriad of smashing crystal,
Destined for the deep,
Air thick with screams of terror,
Young, old, rich, poor,
All scared.
Mortified corpses float,
Water littered with deceased,
While the living dead look on.
Hope’s dashed,
Time dies silently.
Carpathian angel,
Saviour of souls,
God spoke,
Their souls were saved!
Livvi Kent 2012
[email protected]
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 12:18 PM UTC
creeping fingers,
crawling hands,
innocent at first--
innocent? not likely--
malicious more like.
the purity of your
polystyrene soul,
the unremitting cleanse,
the repent(the chase),
it's your lifeline. the
shocked look, saccharine power
held over tiny fawn--
****** clarity as they might,
oh dear incubus.
the power to end all
held in tiny fists.
this births not demon babes,
but a century of fear
and inadequacy.
downy kittens hardwired with
an inevitable self-destruct.
bring the world to it's knees,
incessant, indefatigable pathogen,
taking grasp of neurons, synapses.
good intentions yearned for the green light
while yours-- red as the blood rose
manifests in lovely lips
for eternity stained with **** wine--
the wine you brewed, you fermented
in the cellar of ********** and hatred.
the father, the son, and the holy spirit,
and the things that lie between.
blessed fingers, blessed breath
freezes as the stiff arms of your diocese.
hushed catholic whisper, angels to never
nearly achieve their wholly holy grail--
your kryptonite. secret looks, hasty deliverance,
catharsis.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 1:47 AM UTC
My words don’t appear like my mind visualizes,
A speech-impaired philanthropist swings inside,
Tonight, the hailstorm rides the waves,
I am not on the same page, inside.
My thoughts wander on that plane,
An unforgotten tune lingering in the rain,
Leaving this mere mortal on this plane,
How I wish I can leave this pain.
I need the cover of the Carpathian mountains,
And beyond in the realm of darkness,
Ambient sounds and the tragedy of dropping rain,
I need to leave this page, struggling madness.
Before I leave, I need to confess,
That what the heart had desired for long,
To be on a journey, with my obsessed,
I wish you were on the same page, forever after
What may come, with fire or water,
The Earth can swallow me tonight,
I perish with all that remains, written on this page.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
The elegance of death is tenacious and tantalises my raw and screaming divinity to the brink of constant linear velocity.
I mourn the lost solitude of Transylvania, where cobwebs are like ancient pathways which are strewn across the guest-room ceilings of haunted castles.
If we touch the harmony of the howling winds from beyond the forest, they will penetrate chimney flues and invade our antediluvian attic.
It is just like the space between your body and spirit, which transcends a harem of wild stallions as they gallop across unspoken planes of astral hierarchy.
Therefore, children of the night, we must recognise those cloven hooves which have left invisible imprints upon the sands of time.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
Like the first inspire of brisk, waking air.
The climbing Carpathian lantern of day.
I sip on tender herbs and taste the gentle stems
Of sensations gone astray.
I feel an awakening.
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 12:05 AM UTC
Your eyes are limpid, as it is the lake
When breeze is gentle and it doesn't shake
And they are as profound as the blue sea
Far in the distance, where the ships feel free.
Your eyes are peaceful, as a lamb asleep
When is surrounded by the flock of sheep
And they are like two gems, precious and bright
And your sweet laughter fills them with delight.
Your eyes are brown like all the bears that roam
In the Carpathian woods, their lovely home,
But they are finer than they use to be
When deep within they mirror only me.
May 14, 2021
May 14, 2021 at 7:06 AM UTC
Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 8/20/2018
Kneeling before you,
I bow my head low,
confessing the truths
due to the Motherland:
it's you who taught me
to see beauty with a word,
and when I entrusted
my soul to you,
you made the bed
with mirror thought
- looking-glass' reflection -
dressed in pensive ponderings.
I love you, Poland,
when you are blooming in spring.
Your fertile fields
of gold wheat and barley.
I love,
when in summer,
in the aroma of linden trees,
adorned with flowers,
you lure with cool shade.
I love in autumn:
saddened,
rainy.
I love with pure and
unchanging love,
full of joy
of sins remission:
of Christmas Eve
examination of conscience.
I love, from south to north,
in February cold
and in hot July.
Your steel statues
of the Carpathian peaks.
Your streams, when rumbling
they carry the March ice floes.
Your beautiful sparkling willow greens
of Masurian waters,
when the sun is chasing
dancing rays
-with emerald's spark
of silver-plated steel,
before they'll disappear
with colors of the rainbow
in the hazy distance.
Your ancient castles,
standing proudly since the times of Piasts.
Your dunes, tamed with dwarf pine,
your country homesteads on the Bug and Prosna.
Polish wolves', eager for blood,
fearful thundering voices.
The heroic fate of the brave Polish armies.
Golden wheat ears of liberation
in the coat of arms of the Nation.
At the sources of the Vistula
I love you with reverie:
And over transparent waters
further reaches
I sob.
You'll hug me,
Mother!
Your son,
when you'll tuck me in
as my only Ma
-buried,
with eternal... loving.
Wieslaw Musialowski 10/9/2001
Oct 6, 2019
Oct 6, 2019 at 2:37 PM UTC
Irony often oozes the blood stain
That history will use to paint
An honest portrait of erstwhile deeds
Or to turn some altered soul to saint
Few are those that exist within the mist
Who loom larger than the shadow portrays
And seldom does a shadow exist undiminished
By the dreariest of all darkest days
So when seeking blood in passionate resolve
There comes a mordant aberration of unheralded stature
Rising to fly above mortal attributes into unremitted immortality
By assiduous conviction born of monstrous evil of unparalleled scale
Born among the Carpathian mountains
From the ancient and mysterious Transylvanian forests
One who seeks blood for righteous alliterations
Not for glory but for the saving grace
A quest to alleviate all alien allagory alligned along the meandering memories of non-mordant minded men
No imagery conjured by Bram Stoker thru Van Helsing
Encompasses the unmitigated reality seen
The lifelong - still beating strong - near century long shadow of the denizen of our brightest outlook
The creation of circumstance as much as man ( unkind ) made
Maybe unheralded by too many
For such a knave am I so sorely cursed now...
With shame
I ...who have always strived
to drape myself
in the raiment of the eternal optimist
Now pay overdue homage to the true and absolute optimist
BEN FERENCZ.... Is his name
Seek out his story now ..
.while he still lives
Reach back ..
Into those dark, dreary days
To share what history gives
and you will see what he means
when he say's
" I'm Right. "
For I truly know that he is!
Keith w. Fletcher
Humbled by the humanity exhibited.
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 8:26 AM UTC
i'll carve this continent into two! by god i'll carve it into two, leaving a monochromatic economic model intact, but i'll carve the continent into two, engraved with the same ethnic concern a jew might associate with the sea of Galilee, as a Slav and Romanian with the Carpathian mountains... by god i'll carve this union into two! after all, no irishman is a swede concerning being neutral in world war ii, and subsequent arrogance.
i don't do sanity sober,
god forbid i'll ever do,
i've got women hitch-hiking
on my back, either telling
me to see a psychiatrist (
but not a neurologist)
or join the anonymous crowd,
when the pleasures of alcohol,
non-violent use of alcohol
is made to feed the leeches
of christianity: well... your god!
wine and blood... what's whiskey then?
kidney essence / liver essence /
intestine juice?!
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
Drums and hums trance
as my pen traces
fixtures of pink eroded clouds
as the mount tops explode
to expose the Chamois
The old rocks melts
on the bridge under where
picturesque horizons
meander on scaled slopes
that overturn marvel with wit
The greenery of the forest
and the sound of the bears
evoke my ears
to hear as the rhythm
rapture to capture
The sky diminishes
as the melodious stars
parade and trade
their glorious mystery
of the lost rulers
The Lynxes spotlight
their padded claws
*and ***** attentive ears*
to hunt, count and punt
on the paced ranges of the Carpathian
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 6:26 PM UTC
you never tell me to go **** myself
unless you want to help me do it
like when you get on your knees
after doing the knife stamp dance
loving my sickness as your own
Your *** a weaving curl
if I asked you to eat worms
you'd run to the tackle store
and buy a box of them
put on blood red lipstick
and tarnish your gleaming pearly whites
you all leg spread
**** on a plate
doing the shimmy
and gobble them down
making your tongue brown
like **** from hell
flashing your eyes like lightning
and laugh making me eat the rest
before ordering me to lick your ***
like Mr. Clean
all **** and span
obedience is our lubricant
each other's darkest secret dreams
baked in the fires of a red-hot furnace
mixing our ashes
and boiling blood
what's next ?
bare feet on hot coals
rope burns
little strangles and tender kisses
cherry blood **** to devour
ballet toe licking
my **** wrapped by you in a square knot
whos the queen
whos the king
whos the *****
princess of ***** deeds
whos groveling in the mud
begging for a spanking
******* like red raspberries
we are
tears of passion
saliva kisses
each other's kabuki **** doll
hurt me, hurt you
we cry and die
loving like coiled monsters in heaven
when we walk down the street
arm in arm we know
no one could ever have us
like we have each other
sick twisted lovebirds
gargling bloodstones
bending over for each other
at every turn
**** and ****** rings
to pull us along
**** forced open
fingers lickin good
preamble
spicy screaming kisses like nettles
on drunken nights
our *** like dripping buds
black cat perfume
our bed an ancient red alter
spikes for sacrifice
all golden glow
Queen Snakes
voluptuously ******
cuddle in Carpathian mists
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 2:02 PM UTC
I struck you sometime after midnight
Mid ship
Gashed
Your seas pouring into my cabin
Berths
Icy
Green
Fervent
To my neck
And I submit
Drowning with your lips upon mine
Till we hit the sea floor
Carpathian
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 2:30 PM UTC