"cordis" poems
Let every person know
that my heart is taken
and my eyes can only gaze
upon your sight,
My thoughts are filled with
fond memories of you
and my tongue could only speak
of my love's plight.
Let every person know
that without you my heart
will cease to beat
and my eyes are better off blind,
My hands would have lost its purpose
for they could not touch you
and life would be
so unkind.
Let every person know
that my love for you
is without limit
and that every breath of my life
I dedicate to you,
My soul indeed
has found its mate
a happy life together
is what we shall create.
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 12:25 AM UTC
Angel Friend
He is an Angel Friend.
Old, Wise, and Designed to have a huge heart
A hard working soul that never quits or did such weaken to bend.
Upon his birth..
Designed for brilliance - the bigger, brighter, and more
significant of life purposes..
A legacy forged
At his birth
An energy made itself A great and bright start
Elderly ages equals wisdom and a fatherly care
Energy in a heart forged from gold - such strength shared and Naturally grown
Such vines to sprout and bond
Connections created and they never detach
Away from the one's who have shared such energies, in return.
A beautiful artistic creation
Created through heart's truer matches..
Selfless gifts
Formed from the kindred spirits - like the silk worm's
Carefully generated stitches of silk
From their gratefulness and directed sharing of portions of their life's force
These fibers are woven into unmeasurable
Dime Worthy estimated or appraised "trinkets"
of breathtaking Tapestry Blankets or "clothe windows.."
Joined forever as one, from one starting love's warmth to another,
train on "crazy rails in need of redirection.."
Such souls see and hand over irreplaceable rider tickets
Clothe pieces of spirits joined as one - as tapestries .
Quilted generations bonded by their loving and sharing connections in Golden Spirited worth .
Heirlooms handed down between life's generations
New births of fresh spirits
Climbing the ladders of time
as cherished timeless gifts
Given to those whom he cares for
Bonded to even those outside a "family" pool
until the very last breath.
Spending not a dime.
He shall toil until his spirit leaves the Earth
Then such energies stay with those whom he cared for
All timeless and unmeasurable ticks of the clock
or sands of the hourglass
Light shines upon the extension of the cared one's family births
Therefor , he has always been earning a defined role
"The eternal force of caring.."
"The warrior's toll."
In edition to the medals of honor
Golden Wearable awards, given unto him, by the Creator.
Titled as the "Creator's Golden Heart" and "Love's earned Crown."
As written in the Latin Life's Wisdom Scrolls" as:
per "Creator aurei cordis" et "coronam meruit amor est scriptor
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 6:25 PM UTC
Novis te cantabo chordis,
O novelletum quod ludis
In solitudine cordis.
Esto sertis implicata,
Ô femina delicata
Per quam solvuntur peccata !
Sicut beneficum Lethe,
Hauriam oscula de te,
Quae imbuta es magnete.
Quum vitiorum tempegtas
Turbabat omnes semitas,
Apparuisti, Deitas,
Velut stella salutaris
In naufragiis amaris...
Suspendam cor tuis aris !
Piscina plena virtutis,
Fons æternæ juventutis
Labris vocem redde mutis !
Quod erat spurcum, cremasti ;
Quod rudius, exaequasti ;
Quod debile, confirmasti.
In fame mea taberna
In nocte mea lucerna,
Recte me semper guberna.
Adde nunc vires viribus,
Dulce balneum suavibus
Unguentatum odoribus !
Meos circa lumbos mica,
O castitatis lorica,
Aqua tincta seraphica ;
Patera gemmis corusca,
Panis salsus, mollis esca,
Divinum vinum, Francisca !
1.2k
The phalanges are connected
to the metacarpals,
the metacarpals are connected
to the ulna,
the ulna is connected
to the humerus…
and the heart
is connected
to pen and paper
in a way that defies
all logic
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC
He said “you’re beautiful inside”
What it supposed to mean?
I think I just can’t see those things
that he is tend to see.
Of course I cannot see them.
My eyes are tightly closed,
my eyes are covered with my forehead
that’s tensioned on my nose.
“You’re beautiful inside,
I’m gonna prove.
But you should calmly lie
and please don’t make a move.”
He doesn’t care about my voice,
the language that I spoke,
about my dress,
about my face
and feeling they evoke.
He said “you’re beautiful inside”,
and made three deepest cuts.
Now he can see what’s inside me:
my lungs, my spleen, my guts.
He put his hand beneath my heart,
his fingers slowly shrunk.
With other hand, so calmly,
he dug into my flank.
He does not care that I'm too heavy,
My vessels he likes more.
He said they’re cleaner than they could be.
The inner beauty of the sore.
My mind does not seem spoiled to him,
or crazy, weird or strange.
he said that nothing wrong with me
He wouldn’t let it change.
I told him I am dull.
There’s something he can find
cutting out my nerves.
I’d rather he was blind.
He doesn’t know what I
was doing all night long,
that I was drawing kidneys
with arteries beyond.
The only thing he does
is wash away my blood
from table and his shoes
to give another cut.
I’m paralyzed and sliced,
my skin is livor mortis.
Spread out on the table
small pieces of my cordis.
He does not think I stink.
For him I’m full of stories.
He’s making notes with knifes
He cuts away my worries.
He cuts hearts on my knees
Love letters made by stings.
With quiet me he’s playing
tic tac toe on my hips.
He has got to the heart of me,
studied my every cell.
disassembled and gathered back,
sewed neatly. He did that well.
He said “beautiful inside”
But nothing about the rest.
Thank you autopsist
You have seen in me only the best.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
Black
Shriveled
Flaking at the edges
Crumbling into a shipwreck
crashed far too many times
into someone else's shore
Walls are peeling off the collapsing interior
the paint is scratched with claws
Not enough pillars, not enough strength
Samson's arms are long broken
Blood forms blades
Ribs remain cages, prisons
Curling into a fist
Knocking on someone else's heart
It's a door
that will never open.
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 6:25 AM UTC
Perambulábo
in innocéntia cordis mei,
in médio domus meæ,
the bell tolled from the bell tower,
orange brick, Moorish design,
the I is as nothing
the whole symbol
of the cross is
the I crossed out Dom Joseph said,
self denial Gerald said
as we walked the cloister,
her ***** hair was dark
and come taste she said,
it was pride
that changed angels
into devils; it is humility
that makes men as angels
Augustine said,
the cloister gardens were rich in flowers,
I worked there after Terce
back bending and aching,
the French monk said
God talks in the soul,
her ******* shone in the candlelight
I kissed each in turn,
when one loves
one does not calculate
Therese said,
sunlight through the church's
high windows
colours on the paving stones
between the choir stalls,
polish the wood with care
and a good yellow duster
Dom James had said,
the smell of polish and incense
filled the church after Terce,
the silence in the chapel
before Mass touched and moved
the hardness of heart,
the peasant monk walked slow
knowing his God
and his small part.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 2:40 AM UTC
i was born with my heart outside of myself
free to grapple with and pull apart
and they did, they did
there was once an artist
who laid out knives and needles and guns
and spread out on a table
and waited
she didn’t even move when they started to **** and stab
and i have always wished i had the same strength
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 8:25 PM UTC
I:Acknowledgment
And had he not loved me first, my love would never whisper
The prince of peace left a golden scepter, to my soul, the lowly drifter
The vanity and blights of man he has seen, all things, all knowing
The children of the Lord, bought with blood, red, pouring, flowing
II:Observance
The fatherless of the nephilim, lie between two stairwells
One leading down to death, One promising a gathering, and the sounding of bells
He who chose those that would follow, from the dawn of Adam
He promised refuge and blessings, far off from that great chasm
III:Acceptance
And though tomorrow is promised not
And our melancholy are great
The king of heaven is peering down
His children lie in wait
IV:Comfort
When fire and stone carpet our skylines
Far atop the tallest hills
The father returns for the orphan children
Bathed in white, a promise filled
V: A Prayer
O Father, who laid up the water and hills
The populations and beasts at your side
I give unto You my melancholy
My fears reside in Your right hand, My loathing in Your left
May you give unto your children the bread of life
Your body broken for the healing of the weak
Forgiveness I accept should thou provide
Grace I accept should thou provide
Mercy I accept should thou provide
My transgressions are many, but more is your command
May you make the weight of my sin like a bale of straw on the back of my heart
May You comfort my spirit, broken by those who hated you long before my mother knew my name
And for those that know You not, in their hearts or in their steps
May you find forgiveness and love, as you found for me
The king of all, forever and beyond my understanding
be merciful unto us in our time of need
Your kingdom reigns eternally
Quam spiritus et cordis, ut benedicat tibi iste miser,
Amen
Aug 22, 2020
Aug 22, 2020 at 10:02 PM UTC