"celestine" poems
*
*
Sitting in the shade of ****** lilies, is
the blessed beauty, the Heart of Summer
Her skin, shimmering russet
Her eyes, molten gold
Her lips, pouty rose buds
Her hair, a slick raven halo
Her body, curvaceous and slender
Flaunted by her diaphanous lilac robe
Through her sculpted nose, she inhales the
warm clime; her feet upon the verdure.
As she walks through the gardens, the
flowers burst into blooms, trumpets
to the song of working honey bees.
Ahead is a lake, clear, crystal and celestine,
stars dance and wink upon the surface.
She picks the daisies and adorns it in
her hair, thinking of her great empery.
Here in the palms of light and love, there
is no sin and no pain.
She hears the ringing bells of
nature, the song of wings.
'For I love all life and light,' she smiles, 'and more,
I will bring.'
*
*
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 5:08 PM UTC
~ I dreamed a dream yet still it seems
a life of deja-vu ~
*Kings & Queens
Scripted leaves of Velveteen
Picturesque & Celestine*
My honor lay in balance
of the Two
was I to marry??
*I am in love with a Lady of the Jeweled Fauna
Yet bred of royal dread,
be deemed to marry
the one and only appointed Queen.*
I died alive
from the tears I cried
I heard the voice
of Heaven sigh,
*"Manu,
the Sky is Wide
Reflected in your Eyes"*
Tear through the Veil to the Life you decide...
so
*I fled from the Halls of Ajanta
through the caves I arrived at Ellora.
I threw down my Crown
and turned back around...*
Then suddenly,
just like a Switch
the nakedness of Flesh on Flesh.
Sliding in
I pushed, She pulled
On top
from the back
We rocked, then rolled
in our Song
we were lost
as we echoed
the Caves with our Love.
Not Once or Twice
My honor lay in balance
of the Two
was I to marry??
*~ I dreamed this dream yet still it seems
a life of deja-vu ~*
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
In a cavernous world devoid of light,
left dark and dead by a higher might,
There is no hope no pleasure no will to fight.
Not since god drove the world into a dying blight.
Her perfection rouses all from slumber,
Tearing through like holy thunder.
in awe they stare lost and dazed,
everyone intent and desparately amazed.
Celestine with her divine wings,
Decends on high and loves and sings.
Waking all to the chance of life,
Breaking darkness like a wrenching knife.
"Look upon me world of shame,
And feel my radiance like a hearths warm flame,
A mother whose patience will not succumb,
To those who are blind deaf mute and dumb.
Care not for those who turn their attention,
Who torments ruins and pretends affection.
Give your prayers to one that will listen,
And shine on you with love that Glistens."
We hear, we feel, we want and need!
All of which you've made us heed,
We give you prayers and fear no silence,
For with you comes love and eternal angelic guidance.
,
Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 2:21 PM UTC
I continue to fall on my shadow that forms from a flickering flame,
across the plane stumbling over dirt and rocks
but still relentlessly casting my spirit out at all costs,
is it free from me in this dark domain?
Deep below picking up sparks along the way
that ignite my soul and light the coal which warms to the goal to pawn the roll,
wanting it to be left alone with rope right there,
concerned with hope & fear shooting across my firmament like a silver tear,
the ephemeral cheer the gossamer of memories that link my experience together
whether or not it's worth it is not the question but how I reply to the suggestion of perfection.
In reaction to a Celestine drop that soaked my being then refused to stop..
I transformed my life on the whim of fate
Intuitive impulse reverberates my state
The sound is sweet, it moves both feet toward a goal I want complete
To live and die in a blink of an eye, so while blessed with breath dare to try!
Jul 18, 2012
Jul 18, 2012 at 9:50 PM UTC
i know why the caged bird sings
black elk speaks
god is red
ages in chaos
the Mayan code
not for innocent ears
one flew over the cuckoo’s nest
Ishmael
Harlem gallery
mother earth spirituality
unfinished tales
midnight song
I heard the owl call my name
alkalize or die
mushrooms
kombucha
leaves of grass
turn
deadspeak
conversations with god
dancing the dream
1984
crystal bible
the foxfire book
reflexology
ceremonies of the living spirit
the source
365 days of the red road
daybreak
Earthwise
It’s a meaningful life
the writer’s handbook
2015 poet’s market
on the road
fear and loathing in Los Vegas
Indian spirit
the eagle and the rose
behind bars
zoo story
the shadow that scares me
in red man’s land
rainbow tribe
man and superman
atlas shrugged
The Celestine Prophecy
Lame Deer, seeker of visions –
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 7:43 PM UTC
Asreal as any mission to mars,
this is earth, we hear you now.
Come in.
And as any vampire fan knows,
the deed
was done.
If your life were
a thread,
here's a knot, hang in there,
keep on truckin'
believe in seagull borne
Celestine prophecy
and pitch Amway.
Think some things never change
and be wrong.
Start over.
What is the meaning of life, if
it is not 42 or 43? Or any whole number.
Jan 7, 2021
Jan 7, 2021 at 11:05 PM UTC
so you sew your melancholy shut –
pour your father’s ***
on the stitches
like you always do
i turn my back and bend over –
ache descending my backbone
where your kisses used to rest;
it recoils in instinct
as i keep on digging for the same mistakes
on skinfolds and chromatic bruises
and thin walls where i hung
my tendency to ache
scrubbed out of me like dead skin,
as i lie, washed, stripped, and tender
in these soft, celestine sheets;
i pepper bits and pieces of myself
to diffuse the hurting
but my pain is blinded;
yours, all-seeing
as i draw my three of swords
from my deepest deck of cards
but there’s already an epigraph
of your name on my clavicles
and you see how your all-elysian, moon-drenched lover
is all tainted, all this time,
and darling, how alive you felt
when you fell in love with this disaster
but the truth is staying in love
will always be your death.
and what i know to be deathless love
is now lost in our ghastly lights
and how we danced with liquid fire
long enough to feel it burn
but all roads lead to rome, darling –
all roads lead to ruin
and all the letters i wrote you are banners
burning in its cathedrals
as roman gods watched us
pick our limbs apart.
and do you think
we can love each other through this,
touch our way out,
love our way out of these
wars we waged —
burning houses,
mess we made
kisses dead in our stately wake
this love — this feeling
spilling like ether, leaving
squandered poems
all over the place.
had you known it all along
had you walked away?
but darling how alive you felt —
how alive we felt in love
but one day you’ll call it crucifixion
and i’ll call it back my death.
and we fall like sacred dust,
a bedlam of debris.
and i draw my three of swords:
dead-cold steel
and paper-soft sorrows.
do you think we have it in us to love each other out of this?
Nov 18, 2021
Nov 18, 2021 at 12:15 AM UTC
My quill is prepared
To write another free-verse
About reigning Queens
Celestine beings
Four poems for four seasons
Inks of many hues
Ever so child-like
With my head high in the clouds
So fantastical
The light shines so bright
I trust my wandering mind
A smile on my face
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 3:35 PM UTC
I expose your utmost laugh,
your Chelsea smile express your true desire
Shared memories scattered to the halls
past events, tenderly dissolve
I bought your time, spending it with you is worthwhile
Now I’m here in the aisle writing about your smile
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 1:10 AM UTC
1
i am the space expanding non-stop at the risk of losing history
and what remains of its stardust.
my sorrows expand with it; my vastness grows wider,
deeper by the day to accommodate
an uninvited houseguest.
2
i fear the act of going through my bones
like a bundle of endless, wistful letters;
some for burning.
some for throwing away.
some for breaking through
my ashen skin.
how can i be both limited and boundless —
it is no magic — just mundanely human.
the thought descends like poison eating at my backbone
until i am no more than a bygone, spineless caryatid.
3
yet again i take down the cosmos,
pick it apart
and in my hands, manage to turn it
into something distastefully prosaic —
turn it into a disassembled being.
all this wordless sadness has made me ancient. alien. unidentified.
4
i am the space expanding non-stop at the risk of losing history;
i have long stopped trying to make any sense to myself and
there is no greater joy
than to be a perplexity.
amid it all, i tiptoe back and forth
between the ice-thin parts of celestine silence
and the static ringing of incomprehensible poetry.
the ground where i stand on breaks;
i float with no direction.
5
i am the space expanding endlessly; i grow wider and deeper
to make room for vaster sorrows —
if only a sigh is enough to hold me
as i tear it all down. tear it all quietly. inward. once and for all.
if only a sigh is enough to hold me
as i implode in tragic,
breath-taking cosmic colors.
Nov 26, 2021
Nov 26, 2021 at 1:59 AM UTC
If I had to run to rewrite retro poems adhoc of chosen trova, of timid Trojan verse, I dare today if I kissed her in front of me ..., She! I would jump from the sky-hyperesthetic…, inhuman to the world Aion celestine aurora, bleed your star In large and challenging today In itself She…, fetid condemnation sweetness aura in between her… just be, same be, sustained…, Oh… Goddess Hestia against your broken leg arm, meadow and braid vein ..., attacked by lost and thirsty love all tempts written ..., everything wields darkly if I take you to our Olympus ... at night loving you whole ..., emptying everything with no other hand singing The split strain entails company, that exterminated be ... love was nailed to a stake ..., I hurt to nail ..., stakes hurting ... I am exhausted above your lips, above yours ... sword…, cyclamen balm made whole if I had you!
To the loves of the world I say ..., cover your ears fungus of weariness, your torn ears squander more than sordid to say ... my blood kills, my blood revives! I **** my blood and I **** everyone, with your scattered blood, strewn ***** blood ... ? Do not leave me alone until nightfall ... I only ask for holy water, emptied from your mouth Goddess Hestia that flies tons over me ... I only ask for a sharp, ****** and scattered romantic blood sword ... To write to the wars of love that I have lost ...
the wars of love that I have won… ”
Jul 26, 2020
Jul 26, 2020 at 3:13 PM UTC