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"cleave" poems
I love you with all my might, All my heart and all my life. But if you fail to put up with my battles, I'll cleave our bonds with a knife.
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Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 8:20 AM UTC
Conditional Love
Even after you ruined me for any other, I cannot regret you. Even as I cleave the flesh of wanting from the bone, I hope the night sky is pretty wherever you are.
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Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 8:37 PM UTC
UNREQUITED
Clad in vinyl Bound and gagged My whip cracks Cleave clefts of flesh And the blood trickles Lightly Pain is pulsing Penetrating prior unknowns Chains and leather Inclement weather The pain and pleasure A pinnacle of understanding Transcending Our reality Like lsd A mind **** Of the brutal but beautiful An ode to those beyond Rather above the pale I tie your hands Bind your feet Kiss your face And release The Master.
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Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 4:21 PM UTC
The Master
Cheers! We praise our lined faces. We forgive time. We raise our cups of double-pressed wine. We know brute forests from our seed-time We know heaven will cleave those we entwine The season of heat is slow to erupt. April is late. March is still covered with snow, Its shabby sheet weak shoots barely interrupt., Succession and succession is what we know. In the thronged marketplace we know we’ll find Lines of who came before and who came after All seem in be arranged by some infinite mind Knowing where our line goes will not stop our laughter. We dance. All dances are in our repertoire. We know we’re headed to that sacred abattoir. Marc Tretin
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Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
Cheerful!
from On the Infinite Universe and Worlds (DE L'INFINITO UNIVERSO ET MONDI) by GIORDANO BRUNO 1548 – 17 February 1600 burned at the stake in Rome's Campo de' Fiori THREE SONNETS Passing alone to those realms The object erst of thine exalted thought, I would rise to infinity: then I would compass the skill Of industries and arts equal to the objects. There would I be reborn: there on high I would foster for thee Thy fair offspring, now that at length cruel Destiny hath run her whole course Against the enterprise whereby I was wont to withdraw to thee. Fly not from me, for I yearn for a nobler refuge That I may rejoice in thee. And I shall have as guide A god called blind by the unseeing. May Heaven deliver thee, and every emanation Of the great Architect be ever gracious unto thee: But turn thou not to me unless thou art mine. Escaped from the narrow murky prison Where for so many years error held me straitly, Here I leave the chain that bound me And the shadow of my fiercely malicious foe Who can force me no longer to the gloomy dusk of night. For he who hath overcome the great Python With whose blood he hath dyed the waters of the sea Hath put to flight the Fury that pursued me. To thee I turn, I soar, O my sustaining Voice; I render thanks to thee, my Sun, my divine Light, For thou hast summoned me from that horrible torture, Thou hast led me to a goodlier tabernacle; Thou hast brought healing to my bruised heart. Thou art my delight and the warmth of my heart; Thou makest me without fear of Fate or of Death; Thou breakest the chains and bars Whence few come forth free. Seasons, years, months, days and hours -- The children and weapons of Time -- and that Court Where neither steel nor treasure avail Have secured me from the fury [of the foe]. Henceforth I spread confident wings to space; I fear no barrier of crystal or of glass; I cleave the heavens and soar to the infinite. And while I rise from my own globe to others And penetrate ever further through the eternal field, That which others saw from afar, I leave far behind me
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Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 8:09 PM UTC
THREE SONNETS from On the Infinite Universe and Worlds by GIORDANO BRUNO
from On the Infinite Universe and Worlds (DE L'INFINITO UNIVERSO ET MONDI) by GIORDANO BRUNO 1548 – 17 February 1600 burned at the stake in Rome's Campo de' Fiori THREE SONNETS Passing alone to those realms The object erst of thine exalted thought, I would rise to infinity: then I would compass the skill Of industries and arts equal to the objects. There would I be reborn: there on high I would foster for thee Thy fair offspring, now that at length cruel Destiny hath run her whole course Against the enterprise whereby I was wont to withdraw to thee. Fly not from me, for I yearn for a nobler refuge That I may rejoice in thee. And I shall have as guide A god called blind by the unseeing. May Heaven deliver thee, and every emanation Of the great Architect be ever gracious unto thee: But turn thou not to me unless thou art mine. Escaped from the narrow murky prison Where for so many years error held me straitly, Here I leave the chain that bound me And the shadow of my fiercely malicious foe Who can force me no longer to the gloomy dusk of night. For he who hath overcome the great Python With whose blood he hath dyed the waters of the sea Hath put to flight the Fury that pursued me. To thee I turn, I soar, O my sustaining Voice; I render thanks to thee, my Sun, my divine Light, For thou hast summoned me from that horrible torture, Thou hast led me to a goodlier tabernacle; Thou hast brought healing to my bruised heart. Thou art my delight and the warmth of my heart; Thou makest me without fear of Fate or of Death; Thou breakest the chains and bars Whence few come forth free. Seasons, years, months, days and hours -- The children and weapons of Time -- and that Court Where neither steel nor treasure avail Have secured me from the fury [of the foe]. Henceforth I spread confident wings to space; I fear no barrier of crystal or of glass; I cleave the heavens and soar to the infinite. And while I rise from my own globe to others And penetrate ever further through the eternal field, That which others saw from afar, I leave far behind me
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48
A frozen avalanche set my night aglitter, A festive shroud descends upon the theater. Crimson sirens cleave apart the verdant veil, Into the darkness we stride without fail. Beyond the jubilation lies the next chapter, With adamant fortitude we give thee cheer. To each their own joys; for none with least, Lest we drown in today, few dice are cast. Behold my picture, let the verdict be: asleepy. I jest, I grin, yet within: smooth boreal sea. Tis simpler to repulse that which is coveted, A gaze that levels souls; I've gladly forfeited. Why? I cannot answer what I do not know, Yet reason continues to war with my soul. Let the rain cleanse my self-aimed ire, From whence come this burning desire? By dulcet caitiff, I set my conundrum aside, The crux of life remain, my Draconian hide. Plebeian ennui paralyzes my gifted facilities, Enough sophistry, let I bid thee turgidities. Let mine eyes be painted blind. How else to behold beauty so fine? Why, my sober vision... Scream in revulsion! :DD
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Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:13 AM UTC
Cosmetic Milestones
Saint Augustine! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame! All common things, each day’s events, That with the hour begin and end, Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend. The low desire, the base design, That makes another’s virtues less; The revel of the ruddy wine, And all occasions of excess; The longing for ignoble things; The strife for triumph more than truth; The hardening of the heart, that brings Irreverence for the dreams of youth; All thoughts of ill; all evil deeds, That have their root in thoughts of ill; Whatever hinders or impedes The action of the nobler will;— All these must first be trampled down Beneath our feet, if we would gain In the bright fields of fair renown The right of eminent domain. We have not wings, we cannot soar; But we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees, by more and more, The cloudy summits of our time. The mighty pyramids of stone That wedge-like cleave the desert airs, When nearer seen, and better known, Are but gigantic flights of stairs. The distant mountains, that uprear Their solid bastions to the skies, Are crossed by pathways, that appear As we to higher levels rise. The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night. Standing on what too long we bore With shoulders bent and downcast eyes, We may discern—unseen before— A path to higher destinies, Nor doom the irrevocable Past As wholly wasted, wholly vain, If, rising on its wrecks, at last To something nobler we attain.
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The Ladder Of St. Augustine
Saint Augustine! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame! All common things, each day’s events, That with the hour begin and end, Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend. The low desire, the base design, That makes another’s virtues less; The revel of the ruddy wine, And all occasions of excess; The longing for ignoble things; The strife for triumph more than truth; The hardening of the heart, that brings Irreverence for the dreams of youth; All thoughts of ill; all evil deeds, That have their root in thoughts of ill; Whatever hinders or impedes The action of the nobler will;— All these must first be trampled down Beneath our feet, if we would gain In the bright fields of fair renown The right of eminent domain. We have not wings, we cannot soar; But we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees, by more and more, The cloudy summits of our time. The mighty pyramids of stone That wedge-like cleave the desert airs, When nearer seen, and better known, Are but gigantic flights of stairs. The distant mountains, that uprear Their solid bastions to the skies, Are crossed by pathways, that appear As we to higher levels rise. The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night. Standing on what too long we bore With shoulders bent and downcast eyes, We may discern—unseen before— A path to higher destinies, Nor doom the irrevocable Past As wholly wasted, wholly vain, If, rising on its wrecks, at last To something nobler we attain.
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48
Ahoy Captain Courageous! Cleave not thy ship from soul Past heaving swell through Stormy sleet this spellbinding Siren to seek. Away thee, Ahab! More than Whale, this mistress heaps Thy spirit to take thee Deep ‘neath sandy shoal. She sings... clings... captures. Pour over rocks Impudent-ass officer Soon torn and tattered. You know better than Fools before thee! Yea! Your liquor lapses Dead man dreaming! Admirals and angels Have fallen Afore thee… oh wise one, Ha! Like notches on a barrel Your soul… she’ll tow on her tale.
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Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 9:21 PM UTC
Siren's Song
Cascades were dripping outside of this moving vehicle White noise, patternless and arrhythmic like magnified sounds of nails on a concrete wall, made by souls desperate to cleave their way to dryness This public utility vehicle holds spirits successful in finding this temporary heaven Weathered, soaked and almost drowned like panting dogs that managed to swim ashore from a shipwreck caused by the iceberg that is the eye of the storm This safe haven holds champions in a world of misshapen men A woman clutches tightly on a bag of lime and her ever waning youth Tired, but not eager to face Death still closing her windows to his cat burglars that come faster than the downpour of Typhon's tears A homeless child comfortably sleeps on the far end of this ride His innocence tested by fate Too experienced for someone his age instead of just playing in the streets he calls home The jeepney driver has eyes on the road painted by Van Gogh Unabashed, industrious and assiduous determined to serve, provide for a family whose stomachs hunger not but they hunger for his return This other dimension nurtures alien thoughts and parallel thinking among beat down men I do not know them but I can hear the cries of their emotions, their longing to be felt and empathized with Their voiceless cries are guns with a silenced nozzle shooting at anyone ignorant who curiously stare at this minefield of a passenger jeep
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Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 12:19 PM UTC
Passenger Jeep
The tears of love in my heart can neither human nor spirit understand, for my heart is bruised in grief. The pains of love in my soul can neither words nor speech utter, for my soul is soiled in sorrow. The wounds of love in my spirit can neither care nor treatment heal, for my spirit is sealed in distress. My heart desires you though you have refused to change your mind. My soul seeks your love though you have refused to come back. My spirit cherishes your love though we can't be together forever as lovers. But, lf we are not meant to be together as lovers, why then does this feeling hurt so much? If we are not designed for each other as one, why then does my heart cleave to yours? If we are not destined for one another as soul mates, why then does my spirit cherish your love? It hurts to know that we can't always be with the ones we love. Seeing that we can't be together forever as lovers, for my inability to change the destined destiny; and my inability to change your mind. My prayer is that you find the love of your heart. My desire is that you find the desires of your heart. My passion is that you find the love of your life, someone who will love and cherish you. The tears of love in my heart, you alone can clean. The pains of love in my soul, you alone can stop. The wounds of love in my spirit, you alone can heal. With tears in my heart will your love be seeked, though am bruised in grief. With pains in my soul will your love be cherished, though am soiled in sorrow. With wounds in my spirit will your love be desired; though am sealed in distress. My life was lived in loving you, now you leave to love another. My heart beats for yours, knowing you alone can clean my tears. My spirit seeks your heart, knowing we shared so much. Oh! The days of sorrow and loneliness has caught up with me. A broken and wounded heart you leave me with. A new path you are treading without me. A new life you are moving to, without me. Nevertheless, my heart frees you without any guilt. But remember it hurts to love and not be loved in return. We promised each other to live together forever as lovers, you assured me of dying by my side. All these promises are now forgotten. Goodbye my friend. As you leave me to groan in tears of loneliness for love, remember my tears are ceaselessly running; wailing and waiting for who will clean my tears of love.
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Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
Tears Of Love
The tears of love in my heart can neither human nor spirit understand, for my heart is bruised in grief. The pains of love in my soul can neither words nor speech utter, for my soul is soiled in sorrow. The wounds of love in my spirit can neither care nor treatment heal, for my spirit is sealed in distress. My heart desires you though you have refused to change your mind. My soul seeks your love though you have refused to come back. My spirit cherishes your love though we can't be together forever as lovers. But, lf we are not meant to be together as lovers, why then does this feeling hurt so much? If we are not designed for each other as one, why then does my heart cleave to yours? If we are not destined for one another as soul mates, why then does my spirit cherish your love? It hurts to know that we can't always be with the ones we love. Seeing that we can't be together forever as lovers, for my inability to change the destined destiny; and my inability to change your mind. My prayer is that you find the love of your heart. My desire is that you find the desires of your heart. My passion is that you find the love of your life, someone who will love and cherish you. The tears of love in my heart, you alone can clean. The pains of love in my soul, you alone can stop. The wounds of love in my spirit, you alone can heal. With tears in my heart will your love be seeked, though am bruised in grief. With pains in my soul will your love be cherished, though am soiled in sorrow. With wounds in my spirit will your love be desired; though am sealed in distress. My life was lived in loving you, now you leave to love another. My heart beats for yours, knowing you alone can clean my tears. My spirit seeks your heart, knowing we shared so much. Oh! The days of sorrow and loneliness has caught up with me. A broken and wounded heart you leave me with. A new path you are treading without me. A new life you are moving to, without me. Nevertheless, my heart frees you without any guilt. But remember it hurts to love and not be loved in return. We promised each other to live together forever as lovers, you assured me of dying by my side. All these promises are now forgotten. Goodbye my friend. As you leave me to groan in tears of loneliness for love, remember my tears are ceaselessly running; wailing and waiting for who will clean my tears of love.
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BENEATH the flat and paper sky The sun, a demon's eye, Glowed through the air, that mask of glass; All wand'ring sounds that pass Seemed out of tune, as if the light Were fiddle-strings pulled tight. The market-square with spire and bell Clanged out the hour in Hell; The busy chatter of the heat Shrilled like a parakeet; And shuddering at the noonday light The dust lay dead and white As powder on a mummy's face, Or fawned with simian grace Round booths with many a hard bright toy And wooden brittle joy: The cap and bells of Time the Clown That, jangling, whistled down Young cherubs hidden in the guise Of every bird that flies; And star-bright masks for youth to wear, Lest any dream that fare --Bright pilgrim--past our ken, should see Hints of Reality. Upon the sharp-set grass, shrill-green, Tall trees like rattles lean, And jangle sharp and dissily; But when night falls they sign Till Pierrot moon steals slyly in, His face more white than sin, Black-masked, and with cool touch lays bare Each cherry, plum, and pear. Then underneath the veiled eyes Of houses, darkness lies-- Tall houses; like a hopeless prayer They cleave the sly dumb air. Blind are those houses, paper-thin Old shadows hid therein, With sly and crazy movements creep Like marionettes, and weep. Tall windows show Infinity; And, hard reality, The candles weep and pry and dance Like lives mocked at by Chance. The rooms are vast as Sleep within; When once I ventured in, Chill Silence, like a surging sea, Slowly enveloped me.
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3.6k
Clowns' Houses
BENEATH the flat and paper sky The sun, a demon's eye, Glowed through the air, that mask of glass; All wand'ring sounds that pass Seemed out of tune, as if the light Were fiddle-strings pulled tight. The market-square with spire and bell Clanged out the hour in Hell; The busy chatter of the heat Shrilled like a parakeet; And shuddering at the noonday light The dust lay dead and white As powder on a mummy's face, Or fawned with simian grace Round booths with many a hard bright toy And wooden brittle joy: The cap and bells of Time the Clown That, jangling, whistled down Young cherubs hidden in the guise Of every bird that flies; And star-bright masks for youth to wear, Lest any dream that fare --Bright pilgrim--past our ken, should see Hints of Reality. Upon the sharp-set grass, shrill-green, Tall trees like rattles lean, And jangle sharp and dissily; But when night falls they sign Till Pierrot moon steals slyly in, His face more white than sin, Black-masked, and with cool touch lays bare Each cherry, plum, and pear. Then underneath the veiled eyes Of houses, darkness lies-- Tall houses; like a hopeless prayer They cleave the sly dumb air. Blind are those houses, paper-thin Old shadows hid therein, With sly and crazy movements creep Like marionettes, and weep. Tall windows show Infinity; And, hard reality, The candles weep and pry and dance Like lives mocked at by Chance. The rooms are vast as Sleep within; When once I ventured in, Chill Silence, like a surging sea, Slowly enveloped me.
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48
Nothing is found, except it is hidden, Nothing is hidden, except it is a secret; Nothing is a secret except it is a treasure. Beloved, you are a secret treasure hidden to be found. Indeed, you are a goddess of beauty. When l behold your eyes l see love, l see us in you. When l weighed your mind, l found courage, when you smile my heart smiles. When you speak the burdens of my heart are lifted up. In my dreams is you that l see, ln my visions is you that l picture, ls you that l capture. When l first saw you, l met a stranger. As l talked with you, l discovered a divine embodiment with character and charisma. As l thought of you, l discovered my friend. As l came closer, l discovered my missing rib. As l walked with you, l found my wife. When l gazed at your beauty, a spell of love gripped me. I felt a sigh of relief in my heart. You have l loved and you will l love. Loving you means so much to me, beholding your immaculate beauty beautifies the glory of our future. My tears and fear is to lose you. I am perfected in your love, you are the tender spirit of my heart, the one that softens my heart; your love has stolen my heart away. I've never been so much in love, not until l met you. Losing you means loss of countless memories to me, ln loving you have l understood the worth of true and genuine love. My soul bleeds for the moment of our union as one. I long for the moment when we shall cleave together as birds in the sky, singing the songs of love together as one, sharing in an everlasting happiness. Then shall l tell you how much you mean to me, how effective your spell of love have gripped me. We're not only humanly designed for each other, we're divinely designed from each other. My love for you is forever
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Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 6:29 PM UTC
Treasure Of Love
Nothing is found, except it is hidden, Nothing is hidden, except it is a secret; Nothing is a secret except it is a treasure. Beloved, you are a secret treasure hidden to be found. Indeed, you are a goddess of beauty. When l behold your eyes l see love, l see us in you. When l weighed your mind, l found courage, when you smile my heart smiles. When you speak the burdens of my heart are lifted up. In my dreams is you that l see, ln my visions is you that l picture, ls you that l capture. When l first saw you, l met a stranger. As l talked with you, l discovered a divine embodiment with character and charisma. As l thought of you, l discovered my friend. As l came closer, l discovered my missing rib. As l walked with you, l found my wife. When l gazed at your beauty, a spell of love gripped me. I felt a sigh of relief in my heart. You have l loved and you will l love. Loving you means so much to me, beholding your immaculate beauty beautifies the glory of our future. My tears and fear is to lose you. I am perfected in your love, you are the tender spirit of my heart, the one that softens my heart; your love has stolen my heart away. I've never been so much in love, not until l met you. Losing you means loss of countless memories to me, ln loving you have l understood the worth of true and genuine love. My soul bleeds for the moment of our union as one. I long for the moment when we shall cleave together as birds in the sky, singing the songs of love together as one, sharing in an everlasting happiness. Then shall l tell you how much you mean to me, how effective your spell of love have gripped me. We're not only humanly designed for each other, we're divinely designed from each other. My love for you is forever
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49
Tacked tin sheets promoting brand names Real local grown food little meat eaten our elders thin, bony and fit Yet birthed another foolish generation seeded by World Wars planted by Lend Lease fuelled by aged forests we farm, feed, cleave and eat Greed walks besides naive naivety slaughtered sheep full of cancer processing industrial carcase-ed meals shopaholics fat consumerism a speeding, partying, dancing waste of ills Lawyer-ed  politicians chain us whilst stymied party politics deafen us Money-ed propaganda’s herd us Local economies destroyed to feed *National ..European ..Pan European ..Pan Asian ..World Bank ... Prime Minister ..President ..Minister ..Senator ..Consultant* Globalisation’s plague of selfish-self-grandiose labels A generation’s survivors will despair as the Ganges runs dry then die with their children’s children in an armed-hungry-thirsty tide .
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Apr 23, 2010
Apr 23, 2010 at 3:41 PM UTC
Born Screaming......
"CALL down the hawk from the air; Let him be hooded or caged Till the yellow eye has grown mild, For larder and spit are bare, The old cook enraged, The scullion gone wild.' "I will not be clapped in a hood, Nor a cage, nor alight upon wrist, Now I have learnt to be proud Hovering over the wood In the broken mist Or tumbling cloud.' "What tumbling cloud did you cleave, Yellow-eyed hawk of the mind, Last evening? that I, who had sat Dumbfounded before a knave, Should give to my friend A pretence of wit.'
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The Hawk
Now that we are here, let’s make the most of it Cling to every moment, embracing every bit For life is but a fleeting thing, and time moves lightning fast We must savor every second, and make each moment last Let's cherish all the beauty, that surrounds us every day And give thanks for every blessing, that comes along our way Let's hold each other close, and cleave to lasting love For it surely will endure, with the blessings from above So live life to the fullest, make every moment count For now that we are here, there’s no reason to have doubt Together we can conquer, united we stand strong Now that we are here, we know we all belong
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Mar 28, 2023
Mar 28, 2023 at 3:33 PM UTC
Now That We Are Here
All praise to AHAYAH BAHASHAM YASHIYAH the most high GOD , No they can't be no higher My siblings are asleep , They're all lost sheep It's time to wake up , the children of Jacob QAM YASHARALAH get back up on your feet Open up your eyes to all these lies and deceit The end times are near , but there's nothing to fear This old world will start to crumble up , and disappear A new heaven and earth, as it is written It's already prepared but of now it is hidden If you follow the prophecy , it just beats down theology So just continue to endure , soon pain will be no more As it is written in REVELATIONS 21 and 4 Locked up under key ,Satan will be bound No longer able to send off his hounds When a thousand years are up , the devil will be set free And chaos will start to abrupt For a short season , but what's the reason? AHAYAH don't play that Rain fire from the heavens He's just going to take back , what's rightfully his (Payback that is!) His days of ruling are over, the devil can't stay Now it's his time to pay , just cut the wire He's thrown down to the lake of fire Wickedness will leave , it shall depart No longer left to cleave on to our hearts
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Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 2:46 PM UTC
Praise
I hear an army charging upon the land, And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees: Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand, Disdaining the reins, with fluttering whips, the charioteers. They cry unto the night their battle-name: I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter. They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame, Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil. They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair: They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore. My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair? My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone?
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3k
I Hear an Army Charging Upon the Land
I would I were a careless child, Still dwelling in my Highland cave, Or roaming through the dusky wild, Or bounding o’er the dark blue wave; The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride, Accords not with the freeborn soul, Which loves the mountain’s craggy side, And seeks the rocks where billows roll. Fortune! take back these cultur’d lands, Take back this name of splendid sound! I hate the touch of servile hands, I hate the slaves that cringe around: Place me among the rocks I love, Which sound to Ocean’s wildest roar; I ask but this—again to rove Through scenes my youth hath known before. Few are my years, and yet I feel The World was ne’er design’d for me: Ah! why do dark’ning shades conceal The hour when man must cease to be? Once I beheld a splendid dream, A visionary scene of bliss: Truth!—wherefore did thy hated beam Awake me to a world like this? I lov’d—but those I lov’d are gone; Had friends—my early friends are fled: How cheerless feels the heart alone, When all its former hopes are dead! Though gay companions, o’er the bowl Dispel awhile the sense of ill; Though Pleasure stirs the maddening soul, The heart—the heart—is lonely still. How dull! to hear the voice of those Whom Rank or Chance, whom Wealth or Power, Have made, though neither friends nor foes, Associates of the festive hour. Give me again a faithful few, In years and feelings still the same, And I will fly the midnight crew, Where boist’rous Joy is but a name. And Woman, lovely Woman! thou, My hope, my comforter, my all! How cold must be my ***** now, When e’en thy smiles begin to pall! Without a sigh would I resign, This busy scene of splendid Woe, To make that calm contentment mine, Which Virtue knows, or seems to know. Fain would I fly the haunts of men— I seek to shun, not hate mankind; My breast requires the sullen glen, Whose gloom may suit a darken’d mind. Oh! that to me the wings were given, Which bear the turtle to her nest! Then would I cleave the vault of Heaven, To flee away, and be at rest.
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2.8k
I Would I Were A Careless Child
I would I were a careless child, Still dwelling in my Highland cave, Or roaming through the dusky wild, Or bounding o’er the dark blue wave; The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride, Accords not with the freeborn soul, Which loves the mountain’s craggy side, And seeks the rocks where billows roll. Fortune! take back these cultur’d lands, Take back this name of splendid sound! I hate the touch of servile hands, I hate the slaves that cringe around: Place me among the rocks I love, Which sound to Ocean’s wildest roar; I ask but this—again to rove Through scenes my youth hath known before. Few are my years, and yet I feel The World was ne’er design’d for me: Ah! why do dark’ning shades conceal The hour when man must cease to be? Once I beheld a splendid dream, A visionary scene of bliss: Truth!—wherefore did thy hated beam Awake me to a world like this? I lov’d—but those I lov’d are gone; Had friends—my early friends are fled: How cheerless feels the heart alone, When all its former hopes are dead! Though gay companions, o’er the bowl Dispel awhile the sense of ill; Though Pleasure stirs the maddening soul, The heart—the heart—is lonely still. How dull! to hear the voice of those Whom Rank or Chance, whom Wealth or Power, Have made, though neither friends nor foes, Associates of the festive hour. Give me again a faithful few, In years and feelings still the same, And I will fly the midnight crew, Where boist’rous Joy is but a name. And Woman, lovely Woman! thou, My hope, my comforter, my all! How cold must be my ***** now, When e’en thy smiles begin to pall! Without a sigh would I resign, This busy scene of splendid Woe, To make that calm contentment mine, Which Virtue knows, or seems to know. Fain would I fly the haunts of men— I seek to shun, not hate mankind; My breast requires the sullen glen, Whose gloom may suit a darken’d mind. Oh! that to me the wings were given, Which bear the turtle to her nest! Then would I cleave the vault of Heaven, To flee away, and be at rest.
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56
Sable, the swallow rising as it banks over the white conduits of marrow in the body, rain slashes through the honey locust, along the long ellipse of its hunt as savage dragonflies rise from stems to cling, a deep sienna of doeskin tremors over their sting, catkins, an aftermath, melancholy to the skin soaked in white calla, its reticence assails the sleeping orchards of the heart, in its darkest sheaves, to cleave apart the soft joining of lips and silence me; for eternity is this moment, and the light you give cloaks me in a coat of flames, the burnt locust of slaughter, taunt the rubric of Christs hidden scriptures, as I night, the body, solely a vessel of shadow, returning through a field of windfall, ripe with wasps, echo you in me, a dream of a dream dream't, in the dim recess of light your lips close like a sutra over mine, a brutality of moments ground out of thick pine, as the fine agony of cricket ballets rise shivering, to stillness, this silence is a lotus, a blue psalm, throttles the throat, as a quorum of swallows gather between the swathes of sunlight and skewed shadows, and lift as one body, subsumed by our abandoned depths, out of exile, you have made me a homeland of truant light and as I night, lightning opens like scripture, a black plea, poured over some sore refuge, and so that I may never be restored, cloak me in a coat of flames, suffering an ecstasy of moments hardened in amber, over the white conduits of marrow in the savage body, writhe a black throng of swallows, assail the sleeping orchards of the heart, in its darkest sheaves, to cleave apart the soft joining of lips and silence me....
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Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 4:05 PM UTC
The Black Kiss
Sable, the swallow rising as it banks over the white conduits of marrow in the body, rain slashes through the honey locust, along the long ellipse of its hunt as savage dragonflies rise from stems to cling, a deep sienna of doeskin tremors over their sting, catkins, an aftermath, melancholy to the skin soaked in white calla, its reticence assails the sleeping orchards of the heart, in its darkest sheaves, to cleave apart the soft joining of lips and silence me; for eternity is this moment, and the light you give cloaks me in a coat of flames, the burnt locust of slaughter, taunt the rubric of Christs hidden scriptures, as I night, the body, solely a vessel of shadow, returning through a field of windfall, ripe with wasps, echo you in me, a dream of a dream dream't, in the dim recess of light your lips close like a sutra over mine, a brutality of moments ground out of thick pine, as the fine agony of cricket ballets rise shivering, to stillness, this silence is a lotus, a blue psalm, throttles the throat, as a quorum of swallows gather between the swathes of sunlight and skewed shadows, and lift as one body, subsumed by our abandoned depths, out of exile, you have made me a homeland of truant light and as I night, lightning opens like scripture, a black plea, poured over some sore refuge, and so that I may never be restored, cloak me in a coat of flames, suffering an ecstasy of moments hardened in amber, over the white conduits of marrow in the savage body, writhe a black throng of swallows, assail the sleeping orchards of the heart, in its darkest sheaves, to cleave apart the soft joining of lips and silence me....
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60
When you paint houses bring your little brother Hoffa couldn't keep his mouth shut Mannlicher Carcano carbines cleave off the tops of skulls Cosa Nostra prove The idiocy of convertibles Pretty boy politicians sprayed across Jackie's face Kennedy never should have rocked the boat Bufalino brotherhood born for bloodshed Irishman knows that .32 goes in but doesn't come back out Turning grey matter into brain sauce pudding Hoffa couldn't keep his mouth shut Got what he wanted kept demanding more Stupid Sicilian stooges get sliced up in pork store backrooms limbs spread to the four corners of Michigan Irishman painted his house Hoffa couldn't keep his mouth shut
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Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 6:22 AM UTC
Hoffa
I drew the second third line A first fourth one is on deck Knew I inked them finely fine Still, I go check and recheck Marvelously filleted corners Cleave an unsettling sound Put compass back on paper Just to make sure it's round Anxiety was bound to happen To the fifth first line I go back Again, I sharpen and sharpen But I give up, made it all black Perfection is not my liberty But a numb skin I wish to flay Half of my mind seeks symmetry Yet the other  half                                    is    in                                           disarray
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Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 8:46 PM UTC
Fastidiousness
an intergalactic being of the static trying not to panic in the sporadic antics of a frantic romantic manic freak bobbing to the beat of drones and sheep as the storms seep from the more discrete holes in my heart render me obsolete and deplete me from afar weave me the dreams of delicate surrender cleave me at the seams in vicious splendor deceive me in the memes of malicious pretenders and take me to never was tell me of the ridiculous the insidious the belligerence of thugs the deliverance of slugs the hideous wrap me in a rug with no love ***** drugs and a mean mug peacefully pitiful
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Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 4:09 PM UTC
Bleak
My heart was leaden. Now, is gold to purify, to temper shame? Embracing you may strengthen, fold. A flux of alchemy untold, in ev’ry frown you’ve made a game; What once was leaden now is gold. I wonder if you’d cleave or scold if Metallurgy weren’t my name, for holding you has made me fold. “Our beauty’s something to behold,” so confidently you proclaim, “we once were lead and now we’re gold!” But if we only fill a mold, could love continue on the same? Can holding you maintain this fold away from all that’s cruel and cold? Still soft from passion’s blissful flame, embracing now; together fold, To blend, somehow, our lead and gold.
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Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 11:24 PM UTC
She Works Late in the Metals Lab