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"cherubim" poems
Pure? What does it mean? The tongues of hell Are dull, dull as the triple Tongues of dull, fat Cerebus Who wheezes at the gate. Incapable Of licking clean The aguey tendon, the sin, the sin. The tinder cries. The indelible smell Of a snuffed candle! Love, love, the low smokes roll From me like Isadora's scarves, I'm in a fright One scarf will catch and anchor in the wheel. Such yellow sullen smokes Make their own element. They will not rise, But trundle round the globe Choking the aged and the meek, The weak Hothouse baby in its crib, The ghastly orchid Hanging its hanging garden in the air, Devilish leopard! Radiation turned it white And killed it in an hour. Greasing the bodies of adulterers Like Hiroshima ash and eating in. The sin. The sin. Darling, all night I have been flickering, off, on, off, on. The sheets grow heavy as a lecher's kiss. Three days. Three nights. Lemon water, chicken Water, water make me retch. I am too pure for you or anyone. Your body Hurts me as the world hurts God. I am a lantern ---- My head a moon Of Japanese paper, my gold beaten skin Infinitely delicate and infinitely expensive. Does not my heat astound you. And my light. All by myself I am a huge camellia Glowing and coming and going, flush on flush. I think I am going up, I think I may rise ---- The beads of hot metal fly, and I, love, I Am a pure acetylene ****** Attended by roses, By kisses, by cherubim, By whatever these pink things mean. Not you, nor him. Not him, nor him (My selves dissolving, old ***** petticoats) ---- To Paradise.
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Fever 103°
Pure? What does it mean? The tongues of hell Are dull, dull as the triple Tongues of dull, fat Cerebus Who wheezes at the gate. Incapable Of licking clean The aguey tendon, the sin, the sin. The tinder cries. The indelible smell Of a snuffed candle! Love, love, the low smokes roll From me like Isadora's scarves, I'm in a fright One scarf will catch and anchor in the wheel. Such yellow sullen smokes Make their own element. They will not rise, But trundle round the globe Choking the aged and the meek, The weak Hothouse baby in its crib, The ghastly orchid Hanging its hanging garden in the air, Devilish leopard! Radiation turned it white And killed it in an hour. Greasing the bodies of adulterers Like Hiroshima ash and eating in. The sin. The sin. Darling, all night I have been flickering, off, on, off, on. The sheets grow heavy as a lecher's kiss. Three days. Three nights. Lemon water, chicken Water, water make me retch. I am too pure for you or anyone. Your body Hurts me as the world hurts God. I am a lantern ---- My head a moon Of Japanese paper, my gold beaten skin Infinitely delicate and infinitely expensive. Does not my heat astound you. And my light. All by myself I am a huge camellia Glowing and coming and going, flush on flush. I think I am going up, I think I may rise ---- The beads of hot metal fly, and I, love, I Am a pure acetylene ****** Attended by roses, By kisses, by cherubim, By whatever these pink things mean. Not you, nor him. Not him, nor him (My selves dissolving, old ***** petticoats) ---- To Paradise.
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54
They say the sea is cold, but the sea contains the hottest blood of all, and the wildest, the most urgent. All the whales in the wider deeps, hot are they, as they urge on and on, and dive beneath the icebergs. The right whales, the sperm-whales, the hammer-heads, the killers there they blow, there they blow, hot wild white breath out of the sea! And they rock, and they rock, through the sensual ageless ages on the depths of the seven seas, and through the salt they reel with drunk delight and in the tropics tremble they with love and roll with massive, strong desire, like gods. Then the great bull lies up against his bride in the blue deep bed of the sea, as mountain pressing on mountain, in the zest of life: and out of the inward roaring of the inner red ocean of whale-blood the long tip reaches strong, intense, like the maelstrom-tip, and comes to rest in the clasp and the soft, wild clutch of a she-whale's fathomless body. And over the bridge of the whale's strong phallus, linking the wonder of whales the burning archangels under the sea keep passing, back and forth, keep passing, archangels of bliss from him to her, from her to him, great Cherubim that wait on whales in mid-ocean, suspended in the waves of the sea great heaven of whales in the waters, old hierarchies. And enormous mother whales lie dreaming suckling their whale- tender young and dreaming with strange whale eyes wide open in the waters of the beginning and the end. And bull-whales gather their women and whale-calves in a ring when danger threatens, on the surface of the ceaseless flood and range themselves like great fierce Seraphim facing the threat encircling their huddled monsters of love. And all this happens in the sea, in the salt where God is also love, but without words: and Aphrodite is the wife of whales most happy, happy she! and Venus among the fishes skips and is a she-dolphin she is the gay, delighted porpoise sporting with love and the sea she is the female tunny-fish, round and happy among the males and dense with happy blood, dark rainbow bliss in the sea.
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Whales Weep Not!
They say the sea is cold, but the sea contains the hottest blood of all, and the wildest, the most urgent. All the whales in the wider deeps, hot are they, as they urge on and on, and dive beneath the icebergs. The right whales, the sperm-whales, the hammer-heads, the killers there they blow, there they blow, hot wild white breath out of the sea! And they rock, and they rock, through the sensual ageless ages on the depths of the seven seas, and through the salt they reel with drunk delight and in the tropics tremble they with love and roll with massive, strong desire, like gods. Then the great bull lies up against his bride in the blue deep bed of the sea, as mountain pressing on mountain, in the zest of life: and out of the inward roaring of the inner red ocean of whale-blood the long tip reaches strong, intense, like the maelstrom-tip, and comes to rest in the clasp and the soft, wild clutch of a she-whale's fathomless body. And over the bridge of the whale's strong phallus, linking the wonder of whales the burning archangels under the sea keep passing, back and forth, keep passing, archangels of bliss from him to her, from her to him, great Cherubim that wait on whales in mid-ocean, suspended in the waves of the sea great heaven of whales in the waters, old hierarchies. And enormous mother whales lie dreaming suckling their whale- tender young and dreaming with strange whale eyes wide open in the waters of the beginning and the end. And bull-whales gather their women and whale-calves in a ring when danger threatens, on the surface of the ceaseless flood and range themselves like great fierce Seraphim facing the threat encircling their huddled monsters of love. And all this happens in the sea, in the salt where God is also love, but without words: and Aphrodite is the wife of whales most happy, happy she! and Venus among the fishes skips and is a she-dolphin she is the gay, delighted porpoise sporting with love and the sea she is the female tunny-fish, round and happy among the males and dense with happy blood, dark rainbow bliss in the sea.
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45
1126 Shall I take thee, the Poet said To the propounded word? Be stationed with the Candidates Till I have finer tried— The Poet searched Philology And when about to ring For the suspended Candidate There came unsummoned in— That portion of the Vision The Word applied to fill Not unto nomination The Cherubim reveal—
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Shall I take thee, the Poet said
Pretty Pictures; as you are embracing me Lost in an earthly mood of tranquility Evident than the shadows fusing my feet Obscure like pretty lies melodically Pretty Pictures; sailing, forever will be Rhapsodize; vividly crossing in my mind A face of cherubim winged up the sky Cascading through visions abrupt A star shoots afar than any distant eye Longing endless of her passionate touch We are novels, with so much stories to tell Red laces, stamps of gold, a lush lullaby I was the house you painted white Agitate the deepest hues, then we'd fly Midnight kisses, Dawn then traded goodbyes Blithe; for we need nothing to pretend The clearest blue water, a heaven's scent To the grass wading courteously Cloud nine's hanging then lifts my feet Showering up above washing all anxieties Pretty pictures; like ribbons untangled A touch of silk as my heart would lilt Inner feelings frolic then they'd tremble For in you the excitement is always a thrill From the simplest to a goddess divine Pretty Pictures; moments as you were mine
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Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 1:08 AM UTC
◦ Pretty Pictures
lotus in a mirror its roots clutch crepuscular slums of dredging mud deep dark stagnant thick with worms and milk flower petals we remain nourished wisdom expands into darkness all of us students in the school of shadows irreverent desires reverent wise children of light bathe in waters of cimmerian shade *** death and regeneration are celebrated in ****** of feral lucidity souls are soiled by devils the bog swallows bones to bloom seraph's and cherubim floating the third eye open a cascading light secret kiss a breathless eternity at the root flames lick open orifice of ripples silk empyrean *** magicians weave hips voodoo
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Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 1:09 PM UTC
The Empyrean *** Magicians
Bid adieu, adieu, adieu, Bid adieu to girlish days, Happy Love is come to woo Thee and woo thy girlish ways— The zone that doth become thee fair, The snood upon thy yellow hair, When thou hast heard his name upon The bugles of the cherubim Begin thou softly to unzone Thy girlish ***** unto him And softly to undo the snood That is the sign of maidenhood.
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Bid Adieu to Maidenhood
Cherubim, Seraphim Watching from above, afar a flying dove; crepuscular Peace of mind in you we find, arcane Playing amongst the darkness, what we were I forgot Bairn devine, Define; Angelic promises, Demonic pride Cosmic tears, is it to ourselves we lie? Through my eyes I see the mirror of indifference Aeon-Antiquity Shadows illuminated by night, the moon the bringer of light Corona, soul. Angelic promises made in hell! Deistic dipterous demons within thee; watch 'de'skies', Demonic pride facing fears vanquishing friend or fiend The belligerent zenith a conflagerated nirvana. Inside ourselves we die, we lie for salvation; trying. You watched us in thy darkness- You took away the light; Now know more, shadows shed pain An acrimonial heaven built upon the burning of sepulchre. Tear drops of eternal rain Splashing on the doorstep of purgatory Like dew on a rose Dawn arisen, Ethereal ebullience the dream of cornucopia; An Elysian asphodel Cerulean, Azure. 1997 ELEETE J MUIR
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Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 9:59 AM UTC
Horizon
Reflections of my self, my being, my person, my soul, Forever replayed, reshown, redone, reinacted For the fact is The strength that settles in my palms is ignited by the ignorance of man. Oh man oh man how corrupt and vile does your mind be Calculating and engineering plans and strategies That will never leave your mind, Free To be or not to be A mockerey Of your confused biology, which hysterically Questions your existence. A gift so great, Yet bronzed with your persistence to query the beauty I have given you, Which is life! Behind every man is a woman who loves and sacrifices their own needs and Necessities for happiness, Clarity and justice. A dancing cherubim dancing elegantly like a warm summer ray from your childhood Window. Revitilises, Re-energises, Re-grows, The root of your soul As if the buds of may. Honey toned, chocolate foamed Milky light, All pleasures for your delight. Spread on to one body of immaculate perfection Formed from Aphrodite's tears. But the woman, The woman possesses such omnipotent spiritual clasp on nature That if she was to know, Overstand Or Even accept a miniscule quantity of this knowledge Then-man-would-be-woman. To trap and encase a man like a rodent Is to burn a ring of fire around his finger that leads life to his heart, Where it beats impatiently to the tune of the womans song. Skin soft, eyes lost Sight of who I am, Many different descriptions -although similar- still not the same, But am I really to blame? For the insecurities that you have belittled on me. For my hair is long, Then short, Then short, Then none. My skin dark, Then light, Then light, But not right A constant fight, A battle to aim for the right kind of existence but even still I Exist! And realise whatever you insist, still I Exist, Which is that gift that i hold in my being here, Looking there At my elegant stare,, Which i dare To offend the image, which you have sought to be womanly. No longer do I fear my image As it is a powerful icon of modern day life To withstand the turbulent stresses and grind of strife To help a man. To have. A happy. WIFE!
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Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
The Power of a Woman
Reflections of my self, my being, my person, my soul, Forever replayed, reshown, redone, reinacted For the fact is The strength that settles in my palms is ignited by the ignorance of man. Oh man oh man how corrupt and vile does your mind be Calculating and engineering plans and strategies That will never leave your mind, Free To be or not to be A mockerey Of your confused biology, which hysterically Questions your existence. A gift so great, Yet bronzed with your persistence to query the beauty I have given you, Which is life! Behind every man is a woman who loves and sacrifices their own needs and Necessities for happiness, Clarity and justice. A dancing cherubim dancing elegantly like a warm summer ray from your childhood Window. Revitilises, Re-energises, Re-grows, The root of your soul As if the buds of may. Honey toned, chocolate foamed Milky light, All pleasures for your delight. Spread on to one body of immaculate perfection Formed from Aphrodite's tears. But the woman, The woman possesses such omnipotent spiritual clasp on nature That if she was to know, Overstand Or Even accept a miniscule quantity of this knowledge Then-man-would-be-woman. To trap and encase a man like a rodent Is to burn a ring of fire around his finger that leads life to his heart, Where it beats impatiently to the tune of the womans song. Skin soft, eyes lost Sight of who I am, Many different descriptions -although similar- still not the same, But am I really to blame? For the insecurities that you have belittled on me. For my hair is long, Then short, Then short, Then none. My skin dark, Then light, Then light, But not right A constant fight, A battle to aim for the right kind of existence but even still I Exist! And realise whatever you insist, still I Exist, Which is that gift that i hold in my being here, Looking there At my elegant stare,, Which i dare To offend the image, which you have sought to be womanly. No longer do I fear my image As it is a powerful icon of modern day life To withstand the turbulent stresses and grind of strife To help a man. To have. A happy. WIFE!
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Pretty soon the conkers would be falling, she could already see their plump, cherubim bodies spiked and dangling like baubles, or those underwater bombs, from the oak leaves, hanging limp.
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Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
Autumn approaches
In the bleak mid-winter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak mid-winter Long ago. Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him Nor earth sustain; Heaven and earth shall flee away When He comes to reign: In the bleak mid-winter A stable-place sufficed The Lord God Almighty Jesus Christ. Enough for Him whom cherubim Worship night and day, A breastful of milk And a mangerful of hay; Enough for Him whom angels Fall down before, The ox and *** and camel Which adore. Angels and archangels May have gathered there, Cherubim and seraphim Throng'd the air, But only His mother In her maiden bliss Worshipped her Beloved With a kiss. What can I give Him, Poor as I am? If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb, If I were a wise man I would do my part,-- Yet what I can I give Him, Give my heart.
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A Christmas Carol
i asked my god for rest and in pagan desperation he gave me apolaki god of the sun and war i mistook him for seraphim God struck me down with the force of a thousand spaniards reaching my country's once untouched shores *your land had a god of the sun and war before they pinned you in virginal grace your country wanted you to see the sun and remember war was not for the bloodthirsty for your people it was god's will* i asked my god for love and in carnal frustration he gave me anagolay goddess of lost things i mistook her for a saint archangels unsheathed their swords celestial eyes filled with rage *your land had known loss long before you did your country had known loss long before love had made it known you will find yourself again* i asked my god for light and in familiar search he gave me tala goddess of stars and i stopped seeing them as stained glass figures i no longer saw my banished gods engulfed in the power of rome my land saw the stars before God's first day "let there be light" He said and apolaki bowed in recognition tala greeted Him with a smile and promise anagolay laughed in joy and gratitude my country had gods before wooden crosses before the galleons carrying friars came armed in holy water before my archipelago had become a sprawl of cathedrals now i'd like to think my God and bathala smile down on me saint jude conspiring with lakapati cherubim sleeping in diyan masalanta's arms i'd like to think the gods are at peace i'd like to think they would only want me to remember to never forget every disfigured reflection of the almighty Thy will be done.
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Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 4:17 PM UTC
the gods are all at play
i asked my god for rest and in pagan desperation he gave me apolaki god of the sun and war i mistook him for seraphim God struck me down with the force of a thousand spaniards reaching my country's once untouched shores *your land had a god of the sun and war before they pinned you in virginal grace your country wanted you to see the sun and remember war was not for the bloodthirsty for your people it was god's will* i asked my god for love and in carnal frustration he gave me anagolay goddess of lost things i mistook her for a saint archangels unsheathed their swords celestial eyes filled with rage *your land had known loss long before you did your country had known loss long before love had made it known you will find yourself again* i asked my god for light and in familiar search he gave me tala goddess of stars and i stopped seeing them as stained glass figures i no longer saw my banished gods engulfed in the power of rome my land saw the stars before God's first day "let there be light" He said and apolaki bowed in recognition tala greeted Him with a smile and promise anagolay laughed in joy and gratitude my country had gods before wooden crosses before the galleons carrying friars came armed in holy water before my archipelago had become a sprawl of cathedrals now i'd like to think my God and bathala smile down on me saint jude conspiring with lakapati cherubim sleeping in diyan masalanta's arms i'd like to think the gods are at peace i'd like to think they would only want me to remember to never forget every disfigured reflection of the almighty Thy will be done.
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46
Amble into the churning vortex the purple sky undulates. The darkness devours the day; shall mankind grimace and falter? The outcome is unambiguous, the sky is broken like an open scroll. Three spheres cascade, black clouds shutter. Wheels-within-wheels covered in eyes, the Ophanim descend, surrounded by a golden altar, the wheels spin a radiant light. Crushing bone, crumbling stone, a symbol of justice begets a reckoning from the might of the celestial throne. Six wings the Seraphim are holy, with two wings they cover their faces, with two they cover their feet, with two they begin to rise. Four faces the Cherubim are glory, eagle, ox, lion, and man. Four conjoined wings covered with eyes, guard the way to the tree of life.
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Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 5:44 AM UTC
The Three Spheres
1574 No ladder needs the bird but skies To situate its wings, Nor any leader’s grim baton Arraigns it as it sings. The implements of bliss are few— As Jesus says of Him, “Come unto me” the moiety That wafts the cherubim.
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No ladder needs the bird but skies
The young Musicians  are at rehearsal...the ladies and the lords will soon gather in the music chamber...and Caravaggio's musicians will play them some music and sing them various  songs...but first, they must rehearse... The Musicians at Rehearsal Let us continue… Let me tune a little of this lute while you peruse the notes and you clear your throat And what’s our Cupid doing? Crushing grapes again between his teeth Let us rehearse well to render a song of softness and ease and grace A song of love with sweet music that will charm our guests And we shall present it in the private chamber of honored lords and ladies - and we shall sing like angels and one of us will be as Cupid dancing and flying as fancy takes him Let us hurry now though let us not forget polish and pace and perfection… come, let us again rehearse together ...and soon the ladies and the lords will arrive...and the musicians will perform and sing their songs of love, passion and sadness... ...and the ladies and the lords are seated in the music chamber...and Caravaggio's musicians play and they sing a song of love and passion... Song of Love O luscious Ladies and brave Sirs the clouds join with one another and the streams sing; the birds sit amorous on the branches and the trees sway while the flowers spread their scent in the air and the bees dance in a daze ah, Ladies are made for men and men for women and each so shaped for perfect fits - embrace then the lover beside you O Sirs pick the red berries on the lips of the luscious ladies; and O lovely Ladies, yield to the embrace of the gallant beside you and feel flowers bloom within - for men are made for women and women for men and each so shaped for perfect fits O embrace and kiss dear luscious Ladies and most accomplished Sirs for Cupid seeks that you make love and produce heavenly cherubim who in turn, nights and days, will make love like you do now in this chamber of pleasures ...and so ends the first song...and the musicians prepare to sing one more for the charming ladies and the elegant lords...a song of sadness to end the night... ...the beautiful ladies and the lords want more from Caravaggio's musicians... the musicians are always glad to oblige..they sing their song of sadness, of loss and love... O this ecstasy we call love O this ecstasy we call love - what is it? why do we crave it when there is such pain that weighs on the body and heart? O this joy we call love - what is it? why do we fall when there is so much deceit and betrayal? why do we love when there are lies and hidden motives? O this curse called love - it has dried my heart out and my being is smeared as cloth with oil and grime; my best times have been taken away and there is left only contempt and scorn and derision… O this darkness we call love - what is it? why do we still move to it even as it teases us and leaves us broken and forlorn?    ...and it is time to go...and the ladies and lords bow and they depart...some depart hand in hand...silent...some depart alone, sad and contemplative...
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Aug 2, 2011
Aug 2, 2011 at 9:16 PM UTC
The Musicians, (c.1595) Caravaggio
The young Musicians  are at rehearsal...the ladies and the lords will soon gather in the music chamber...and Caravaggio's musicians will play them some music and sing them various  songs...but first, they must rehearse... The Musicians at Rehearsal Let us continue… Let me tune a little of this lute while you peruse the notes and you clear your throat And what’s our Cupid doing? Crushing grapes again between his teeth Let us rehearse well to render a song of softness and ease and grace A song of love with sweet music that will charm our guests And we shall present it in the private chamber of honored lords and ladies - and we shall sing like angels and one of us will be as Cupid dancing and flying as fancy takes him Let us hurry now though let us not forget polish and pace and perfection… come, let us again rehearse together ...and soon the ladies and the lords will arrive...and the musicians will perform and sing their songs of love, passion and sadness... ...and the ladies and the lords are seated in the music chamber...and Caravaggio's musicians play and they sing a song of love and passion... Song of Love O luscious Ladies and brave Sirs the clouds join with one another and the streams sing; the birds sit amorous on the branches and the trees sway while the flowers spread their scent in the air and the bees dance in a daze ah, Ladies are made for men and men for women and each so shaped for perfect fits - embrace then the lover beside you O Sirs pick the red berries on the lips of the luscious ladies; and O lovely Ladies, yield to the embrace of the gallant beside you and feel flowers bloom within - for men are made for women and women for men and each so shaped for perfect fits O embrace and kiss dear luscious Ladies and most accomplished Sirs for Cupid seeks that you make love and produce heavenly cherubim who in turn, nights and days, will make love like you do now in this chamber of pleasures ...and so ends the first song...and the musicians prepare to sing one more for the charming ladies and the elegant lords...a song of sadness to end the night... ...the beautiful ladies and the lords want more from Caravaggio's musicians... the musicians are always glad to oblige..they sing their song of sadness, of loss and love... O this ecstasy we call love O this ecstasy we call love - what is it? why do we crave it when there is such pain that weighs on the body and heart? O this joy we call love - what is it? why do we fall when there is so much deceit and betrayal? why do we love when there are lies and hidden motives? O this curse called love - it has dried my heart out and my being is smeared as cloth with oil and grime; my best times have been taken away and there is left only contempt and scorn and derision… O this darkness we call love - what is it? why do we still move to it even as it teases us and leaves us broken and forlorn?    ...and it is time to go...and the ladies and lords bow and they depart...some depart hand in hand...silent...some depart alone, sad and contemplative...
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625 ’Twas a long Parting—but the time For Interview—had Come— Before the Judgment Seat of God— The last—and second time These Fleshless Lovers met— A Heaven in a Gaze— A Heaven of Heavens—the Privilege Of one another’s Eyes— No Lifetime—on Them— Appareled as the new Unborn—except They had beheld— Born infiniter—now— Was Bridal—e’er like This? A Paradise—the Host— And Cherubim—and Seraphim— The unobtrusive Guest—
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Twas a long Parting—but the time
*serpent girl dancing     on a red stone cobbled hill     ritual of Leviathan     trident to the belly     on stained alters bleached     blood and sweat sacrifice     candles burning     from the bottoms up     dipped in tears and pearls            nothing she won't do     swaying her hips     rhythmically     while toothless mouths sobbing     gum her body     a curse of deification            necromancer     *** pact     gorgeous fornicator walking under water her heart like a diamond     player of the infernal tarot     creeps daughter down on all fours     eating ***** with her butter *** up     quantum jumping     doing the planetary bunny hop     on vacation in a fire red bikini   and la dolce vita sunglasses     shes a guest of the sage of pyramids     catching solar rays     reading     from the book of doom     and fake dogmas            lips like obsidian fire     that eat bad children     especially ankle biters     scryer of black warped mirrors ranting     singing in the Vatican of the dead living     worm girls kissing muscular arterial shafts     and ***** in a twist     while making vampire paintings     in dark ritual adorations          ****   of     oodoo     voodoo     i     do     to     you you     plying your soul     with dreams     of     Hollywood     cinema     and headless swiveling   Bollywood     jitterbug            beating devils gory     with harrowing archfiends     and ****** heels     for   love money *** and combat            gods above     angels to the flanks     north south east and west     seventy-two demons below     a crystal floor of vice gripped cherubim     with steal shewed pentagrams     holding dominion   with golden ring     enclosed in a synagogue of will     she's my hot randy *****     in leopard *******           don't **** with her     she eats souls like taffy     while posing     as a kitten     outside her window*
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May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 8:05 AM UTC
DANCE OF THE DARK ARTS MASTER..Black Majick
*serpent girl dancing     on a red stone cobbled hill     ritual of Leviathan     trident to the belly     on stained alters bleached     blood and sweat sacrifice     candles burning     from the bottoms up     dipped in tears and pearls            nothing she won't do     swaying her hips     rhythmically     while toothless mouths sobbing     gum her body     a curse of deification            necromancer     *** pact     gorgeous fornicator walking under water her heart like a diamond     player of the infernal tarot     creeps daughter down on all fours     eating ***** with her butter *** up     quantum jumping     doing the planetary bunny hop     on vacation in a fire red bikini   and la dolce vita sunglasses     shes a guest of the sage of pyramids     catching solar rays     reading     from the book of doom     and fake dogmas            lips like obsidian fire     that eat bad children     especially ankle biters     scryer of black warped mirrors ranting     singing in the Vatican of the dead living     worm girls kissing muscular arterial shafts     and ***** in a twist     while making vampire paintings     in dark ritual adorations          ****   of     oodoo     voodoo     i     do     to     you you     plying your soul     with dreams     of     Hollywood     cinema     and headless swiveling   Bollywood     jitterbug            beating devils gory     with harrowing archfiends     and ****** heels     for   love money *** and combat            gods above     angels to the flanks     north south east and west     seventy-two demons below     a crystal floor of vice gripped cherubim     with steal shewed pentagrams     holding dominion   with golden ring     enclosed in a synagogue of will     she's my hot randy *****     in leopard *******           don't **** with her     she eats souls like taffy     while posing     as a kitten     outside her window*
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We don’t know whether every angel carries out the same tasks, or whether some of them specialize in certain areas. The Bible does speak about classes of angelic beings like cherubim (Ezekiel 1) and seraphim (Isaiah 6). We also know the names of two notable angels: Michael (Daniel 10:13; Jude 9) and Gabriel (Daniel 9:21; Luke 1:19,26). The unnamed angels who appear most often in Scripture carry out a variety of tasks - all designed to serve God…     Worship and praise - This is the main activity portrayed in heaven (Isaiah 6:1-3; Revelation 4-5).     Messengers - They serve as messengers to communicate God’s will to men. They helped reveal the law to Moses (Acts 7:52-53), and served as the carriers of much of the material in Daniel, and Revelation.     Guiding - Angels gave instructions to Joseph about the birth of Jesus (Matthew 1-2), to the women at the tomb, to Philip (Acts 8:26), and to Cornelius (Acts 10:1-8).     Providing - God has used angels to provide physical needs such as food for Hagar (Genesis 21:17-20), Elijah (1 Kings 19:6), and Christ after His temptation (Matthew 4:11).     Protecting - Keeping God’s people out of physical danger, as in the cases of Daniel and the lions, and his three friends in the fiery furnace (Daniel 3 and 6).     Delivering - Getting God’s people out of danger once they’re in it. Angels released the apostles from prison in Acts 5, and repeated the process for Peter in Acts 12.     Strengthening and encouraging - Angels strengthened Jesus after His temptation (Matt 4:11), encouraged the apostles to keep preaching after releasing them from prison (Acts 5:19-20), and told Paul that everyone on his ship would survive the impending shipwreck (Acts 27:23-25).     Answering prayer - God often uses angels as His means of answering the prayers of His people (Daniel 9:20-24; 10:10-12; Acts 12:1-17).     Caring for believers at the moment of death. In the story of Lazarus and the rich man, we read that angels carried the spirit of Lazarus to “Abraham’s ***** when he died (Luke 16:22).     Executioners - Angels are sometimes used by God to punish sin. An angel of the Lord went forth and smote an Assyrian camp (2 Kings 19:20-34) “behold, they were all dead corpses.” The Assyrian army was annihilated. A destroying angel was sent, but later withheld, to punish David for his vanity in taking a census of the great number of his people. At the time of Moses and the Exodus, the Egyptian firstborn where killed by an angel of death.
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
Dr. John Bechtle - Angels Tasks
We don’t know whether every angel carries out the same tasks, or whether some of them specialize in certain areas. The Bible does speak about classes of angelic beings like cherubim (Ezekiel 1) and seraphim (Isaiah 6). We also know the names of two notable angels: Michael (Daniel 10:13; Jude 9) and Gabriel (Daniel 9:21; Luke 1:19,26). The unnamed angels who appear most often in Scripture carry out a variety of tasks - all designed to serve God…     Worship and praise - This is the main activity portrayed in heaven (Isaiah 6:1-3; Revelation 4-5).     Messengers - They serve as messengers to communicate God’s will to men. They helped reveal the law to Moses (Acts 7:52-53), and served as the carriers of much of the material in Daniel, and Revelation.     Guiding - Angels gave instructions to Joseph about the birth of Jesus (Matthew 1-2), to the women at the tomb, to Philip (Acts 8:26), and to Cornelius (Acts 10:1-8).     Providing - God has used angels to provide physical needs such as food for Hagar (Genesis 21:17-20), Elijah (1 Kings 19:6), and Christ after His temptation (Matthew 4:11).     Protecting - Keeping God’s people out of physical danger, as in the cases of Daniel and the lions, and his three friends in the fiery furnace (Daniel 3 and 6).     Delivering - Getting God’s people out of danger once they’re in it. Angels released the apostles from prison in Acts 5, and repeated the process for Peter in Acts 12.     Strengthening and encouraging - Angels strengthened Jesus after His temptation (Matt 4:11), encouraged the apostles to keep preaching after releasing them from prison (Acts 5:19-20), and told Paul that everyone on his ship would survive the impending shipwreck (Acts 27:23-25).     Answering prayer - God often uses angels as His means of answering the prayers of His people (Daniel 9:20-24; 10:10-12; Acts 12:1-17).     Caring for believers at the moment of death. In the story of Lazarus and the rich man, we read that angels carried the spirit of Lazarus to “Abraham’s ***** when he died (Luke 16:22).     Executioners - Angels are sometimes used by God to punish sin. An angel of the Lord went forth and smote an Assyrian camp (2 Kings 19:20-34) “behold, they were all dead corpses.” The Assyrian army was annihilated. A destroying angel was sent, but later withheld, to punish David for his vanity in taking a census of the great number of his people. At the time of Moses and the Exodus, the Egyptian firstborn where killed by an angel of death.
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In the bleak mid-winter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron Water like a stone. Snow had fallen, Snow on snow, In the bleak mid-winter Long ago. Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him Nor earth sustain, Heaven and earth shall flee away When He comes to reign. In the bleak mid-winter A stable-place sufficed, The Lord God Almighty Jesus Christ. Enough for Him, whom cherubim Worship night and day, A breastful of milk And a mangerful of hay. Enough for Him, whom angels Fall down before, The ox and *** and camel, Which adore. Angels and archangels May have gathered there, Cherubim and seraphim Thronged the air. But only His mother In her maiden bliss Worshipped the Beloved With a kiss. What can I give Him Poor as I am? If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb, If I were a wise man I would do my part. Yet what I can I give Him? Give my heart.
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Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 6:03 AM UTC
In the Bleak Midwinter by Christina Rossetti (1872)
DEAR fellow-artist, why so free With every sort of company, With every Jack and Jill? Choose your companions from the best; Who draws a bucket with the rest Soon topples down the hill. You may, that mirror for a school, Be passionate, not bountiful As common beauties may, Who were not born to keep in trim With old Ezekiel's cherubim But those of Beauvarlet. I know what wages beauty gives, How hard a life her setvant lives, Yet praise the winters gone: There is not a fool can call me friend, And I may dine at journey's end With Landor and with Donne.
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1.8k
To A Young Beauty
Towards the endless horizon, Accompanied by gold sunsets; Here lies: the sea – Luminous and transparent. Heaven’s cherubim. I; the impure, mortal soul, Mesmerised by the captivating Sight, took a step – trespassing. Enchanted by the warmth of the sea – I bathed. Born anew: cleansed; Given a second chance. Nevertheless, did I? Corrupted by mortal emotion, I refused my new life; Stained – The blue sea with A crimson sight. What once were transparent, Now is obscure. Tainted with impurities. It responded. The sea was, No more, a tame creature; Rather, a ravaging force. The portentous waves, Dragged me away, In the depth of the sea. Shrouded by darkness, Blinded by my own corruption, I lost sight… The golden sunsets – Mere figments of my imagination. Alone. Resentful. Caged. By my own emotions. I lost sight… Now; I lost my life.
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Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
A bath in the sea
Spring dawned after the biting chill, Beams of sunlight filtered down, Flakes of snow melted away, The Earth bathed in brilliant glow He came, The dainty Darling of our dreams! With promises full and hopes in store, To fill the void, within our souls. To burst the silence, with the clatter of sounds To dispel the gloom, that hovered on He came, High from Heaven, like a cherubim sent, with the glow of umpteen candles lit, He came, To gladden our doleful hearts, To deliver us of our blighted state He came, Like the first rain on parched ground, To drench the arid lands in profuse shower, To ease the ***** of sweltering heat, To put out the fire of growing drought Marveling over the seizure of treasure, long hidden within the crevices dark, We stood, so pleasantly taken aback, over the gift, ere vouched, but long delayed. Like an eagle in its aerial route, flew my spirits in ecstatic rounds Like the Swallow, soaring high above, my fancy took wings and set to fly. He lay close to me, the bundle of joy! His dark little eyes poised on my face, full with words on silent lips, and innocence on his glistening visage I peered into that cute little face, the face I had long fondled in my dreams, I whirled in the feel of prime feed, and swam in the current of maternal bliss!
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Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 6:47 AM UTC
Deliverance
"O happy happy land! Angels like rushes stand About the wells of light."-- "Alas, I have not eyes for this fair sight: Hold fast my hand."-- "As in a soft wind, they Bend all one blessed way, Each bowed in his own glory, star with star."-- "I cannot see so far, Here shadows are."-- "White-winged the cherubim, Yet whiter seraphim, Glow white with intense fire of love."-- "Mine eyes are dim: I look in vain above, And miss their hymn."-- "Angels, Archangels cry One to other ceaselessly (I hear them sing) One 'Holy, Holy, Holy,' to their King."-- "I do not hear them, I."-- "Joy to thee, Paradise,-- Garden and goal and nest! Made green for wearied eyes; Much softer than the breast Of mother-dove clad in a rainbow's dyes. "All precious souls are there Most safe, elect by grace, All tears are wiped forever from their face: Untired in prayer They wait and praise, Hidden for a little space. "Boughs of the Living Vine, They spread in summer shine Green leaf with leaf: Sap of the Royal Vine, it stirs like wine In all both less and chief. "Sing to the Lord, All spirits of all flesh, sing; For He hath not abhorred Our low estate nor scorned our offering: Shout to our King."-- "But Zion said: My Lord forgetteth me. Lo, she hath made her bed In dust; forsaken weepeth she Where alien rivers swell the sea. "She laid her body as the ground, Her tender body as the ground to those Who passed; her harpstrings cannot sound In a strange land; discrowned She sits, and drunk with woes."-- "O drunken not with wine, Whose sins and sorrows have fulfilled the sum,-- Be not afraid, arise, be no more dumb; Arise, shine, For thy light is come."-- "Can these bones live?"-- "God knows: The prophet saw such clothed with flesh and skin A wind blew on them and life entered in; They shook and rose. Hasten the time, O Lord, blot out their sin, Let life begin."
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Christian And Jew: A Dialogue
"O happy happy land! Angels like rushes stand About the wells of light."-- "Alas, I have not eyes for this fair sight: Hold fast my hand."-- "As in a soft wind, they Bend all one blessed way, Each bowed in his own glory, star with star."-- "I cannot see so far, Here shadows are."-- "White-winged the cherubim, Yet whiter seraphim, Glow white with intense fire of love."-- "Mine eyes are dim: I look in vain above, And miss their hymn."-- "Angels, Archangels cry One to other ceaselessly (I hear them sing) One 'Holy, Holy, Holy,' to their King."-- "I do not hear them, I."-- "Joy to thee, Paradise,-- Garden and goal and nest! Made green for wearied eyes; Much softer than the breast Of mother-dove clad in a rainbow's dyes. "All precious souls are there Most safe, elect by grace, All tears are wiped forever from their face: Untired in prayer They wait and praise, Hidden for a little space. "Boughs of the Living Vine, They spread in summer shine Green leaf with leaf: Sap of the Royal Vine, it stirs like wine In all both less and chief. "Sing to the Lord, All spirits of all flesh, sing; For He hath not abhorred Our low estate nor scorned our offering: Shout to our King."-- "But Zion said: My Lord forgetteth me. Lo, she hath made her bed In dust; forsaken weepeth she Where alien rivers swell the sea. "She laid her body as the ground, Her tender body as the ground to those Who passed; her harpstrings cannot sound In a strange land; discrowned She sits, and drunk with woes."-- "O drunken not with wine, Whose sins and sorrows have fulfilled the sum,-- Be not afraid, arise, be no more dumb; Arise, shine, For thy light is come."-- "Can these bones live?"-- "God knows: The prophet saw such clothed with flesh and skin A wind blew on them and life entered in; They shook and rose. Hasten the time, O Lord, blot out their sin, Let life begin."
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Who calleth?--Thy Father calleth, Run, O Daughter, to wait on Him: He Who chasteneth but for a season Trims thy lamp that it burn not dim. Who calleth?--Thy Master calleth, Sit, Disciple, and learn of Him: He Who teacheth wisdom of Angels Makes thee wise as the Cherubim, Who calleth?--Thy Monarch calleth, Rise, O Subject, and follow Him: He is stronger than Death or Devil, Fear not thou if the foe be grim. Who calleth?--Thy Lord God calleth. Fall, O Creature, adoring Him: He is jealous, thy God Almighty, Count not dear to thee life or limb. Who calleth?--Thy Bridegroom calleth, Soar, O Bride, with the Seraphim: He Who loves thee as no man loveth, Bids thee give up thy heart to Him.
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The Master Is Come, And Calleth For Thee
I went with haste - to chapel of Peace, Pity - prayer - hid in my Heart, Fluent in tongues - of Love, Words - magic darts, Filled with seraphim - singing, Filled with light of the Lord, Golden, singing cherubim - fly, Irresistible - to adore.
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May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 11:33 PM UTC
Chapel Of Peace
Roses and Gold chains Living ones life stained, and there’s no time to moan-a-lisa But try this, listen: allow this blues of love to touch your ear Let the past be just a memory and not a future gate locker that will shut you out from happiness Drink in the soul soothing, smooth blend of guitars and harp harmonicas intertwine with the inner drums of your heartbeat Feel the ocean your closed ears bring to life and let that tranquil calm state coexist with the depth of the soft minor chords brought to life by the; Gentle hands as that of  potter massaging the clay till it takes shape, and submit to the tender dominants, stroking the clay from top to the lower parts The movement starts on a slow, and the movement increases as the two blend, and the hand is by now smooth sailing on the smooth creation Allow the blues to be the potter of your humpy, and rough countenance that’s been disfigured And made mushy by incessant rains that haunt this once floral mind, Turned to a graveyard, having rusty gates, making it appear even more grisly Invite the sound to transfigure your inner self to a cherubim that is snow white; this might seem like Childs play and what if it is? You watched them when you were young and all you need to do now is to believe in them Hope to be bluesed than bruised And i know that staying in tune is not as easy as being off tune, but;
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Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
Calm (intro to GreenHouse collection)