"cecity" poems
Would you now go spitefully hating the sun
Or go viciously plundering pretty flower beds
Or go crushing underfoot, fall leaves in contempt
Or turn gently into the fresh fold of snow?
Come, come, dear child, hold out thy hands
Let me gently embrace thy spindly frame
And divest thee of thy onerous cloak
For thou art at journey's end; thy vessel awaits repose.
If I told you which season you'd die in
Would you relent with ease, when the hour falls upon you?
Should you know I'm not as fearsome as most believe
Could you surrender the lent Light I must return?
You already know the answer without knowing
For it is not how you look, but how you look!
You no longer remember, it's been so long
So, I ask it plain: Would you really want to know?
You are not just a spoke on the wheel of Life
Which needs to, as the seasons, turn resolute
Yet you pass through them all, simultaneously
Save, your linear faculties confine your esoteric bridge.
Take joy in aestival airs, the apex of fruition
Springtime soil so easily squandered, bear in mind
Access introspective glimpses with hiemal hibernation
Autumnal foliage is but a screen, time to get real!
You cannot have the sunshine without the rain
Nor expect fine blossoms without fair travail
Seek thus the true bounty bedecked in full view
If you had but the seer's eyeless sight, dear guest.
As you travelled from one season to another
Did you live fully, even in between them?
Yes, the tiny labyrinth-passages you overlooked
Time to exact the price now run overdue.
Too attached you are to world and kin
For none of these, can you take with you
But beneficial acts and and good intent
Cosmic trick of genes is cecity delivered.
The one whose life you may regard so worthless
Retains a level which allows his soul to pass through
The eye of a needle, not measured in numbers
Hoist your soul on, tilt your core... I carry you home
So, come, wayworn traveller, hold out thy hands
Let me tenderly close thy brief visit here
And divest thee of thy onerous cloak, prithee
For thou art at journey's end; thy vessel awaits repose.
Star Toucher, 24 March 2013
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 4:06 AM UTC
Fallen
Into Sweet Mother's arms
The night's embrace like silk,
perforated with needles of Solace.
No thought, no memory
of anything but nothing.
Lost in Forever-never-land
Fallen
Into cecity of self.
Denial no longer, escape
the Shell Of Hallucinations.
And fly.
Fallen
Into the me Beneath
Spiral down-trail, gilded with failures
That have coagulated into sanity
and Reason
Fallen
Into a Flawless-Confusion
No meaning is evident
Within my soul-cage-metaphor
and my failures-turned-reason/sanity
Tell me to seek help
Fallen
Into Un-reason
Fallen
Into self
Fallen
I have
Fallen,
Fallen,
Occido
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 11:20 PM UTC
You are a blind man’s poem.
I read your body in Braille,
the rhyming lines of your brow
swept down
toward the soft turn of your cheek
and your lips’ closed couplet.
I trace your back like a riverbed,
the pebbles of your spine
washed smooth
by the soft waves that rush
through the valley of your shoulders.
I walk my fingertips across chill-bumps,
the lyrics of sighs on your chest,
kept silent
with the rhythm of breaths
held back against beating hearts.
I sweep my lips over planes,
the landscape of your limbs,
laid bare
beneath this blind man’s gaze
and found no less beautiful by cecity.
Apr 7, 2011
Apr 7, 2011 at 4:19 AM UTC
I wear my heart on my sleeve,
but that shirt is hanging in my closet gathering dust with
all the other things I have left behind.
The love notes,
kisses for autographs and picturesque photographs
are packed in a box. forgotten, but always in reach.
I am looking through one way glass at the world,
screaming at the top of my lungs,
but no one can hear me
and I try so hard to get their attention...
The attention of those who are never worth it.
One foot stands in the cool breeze of loneliness like the maudlin moonlight of a midnight freedom
while the other stands in hopeful cecity to feel the warmth of lips on my cheek
or a hand lightly clutching mine...
I am stuck between universes,
like the space between dreams and the waking world.
Here I live and here I watch.
...perhaps I'll run into someone, someday...
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
I remember on shattered ashes
And the frigidity of the musky noon
Rumbling gently on our scale-like frame
Whilst the lonely light evanesced in the dark alley
For the ***** of truth it proclaimed
Alike Elymas, bitter cecity we had stroked
No tinge of light could be sensed
To ken the changes of good and evil
Evil and evil sprouted
Resonating for all to embrace.
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 1:15 PM UTC
Sinking moods, forever stuck in interlude
Staring at grey skies like it's a reflection of the mind
Bearing no fruits of labour; a slave to life's servitude
Constant excessive sighs & an inability to unwind
Only light in one's eyes, is a reflection off one's phone
No life in one's voice, only a overcast monotone
Vessel's surrounded, but one's soul is alone
Drained from weeping & can't even groan
Liquor & ****** distractions from the consciousness
To put the anguish at ease, digressions is a necessity
Shut the door on itself & swallow the keys
Endlessly stuck in a state of cecity
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 11:42 AM UTC