"dateless" poems
721
Behind Me—dips Eternity—
Before Me—Immortality—
Myself—the Term between—
Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,
Dissolving into Dawn away,
Before the West begin—
’Tis Kingdoms—afterward—they say—
In perfect—pauseless Monarchy—
Whose Prince—is Son of None—
Himself—His Dateless Dynasty—
Himself—Himself diversify—
In Duplicate divine—
’Tis Miracle before Me—then—
’Tis Miracle behind—between—
A Crescent in the Sea—
With Midnight to the North of Her—
And Midnight to the South of Her—
And Maelstrom—in the Sky—
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297
It’s like the Light—
A fashionless Delight—
It’s like the Bee—
A dateless—Melody—
It’s like the Woods—
Private—Like the Breeze—
Phraseless—yet it stirs
The proudest Trees—
It’s like the Morning—
Best—when it’s done—
And the Everlasting Clocks—
Chime—Noon!
5.2k
Journeys rendered dateless,
Unending,
Wayward and extending out,
Round the compass points --
Dizzying aspiration to cease this race,
To slow my sprinting soul,
This pace splintering, in exhaustion.
Expiring breath of hope or of home
Evaporated in a distance
Vanishing and
Disconnected.
Drifting
On trackless tides, across
Labyrinthine depths,
Within the vast heart
Of the world
I cannot run from.
Yet, I moved to and between
The center or its peripherals, in
Singular or collectives,
Seeking pattern and
Drawing connectives –-
Brushing by and
Bustling among
People
Entranced In their own
Objectives.
I watched their movements
And their exchanges,
I heard their rituals and
Invocations.
In all these transitions,
They have no inkling
That their seemingly trite
Lives merely manifest
The epic motifs of the heavens!
Our imaginations mirror
The vitality of the gods!
We are as immortal as they!
Our simple, sensual stories
Are also enduring legends
Unfolding,
As our pages turn,
Our flags are unfurling!
Just as our fellow
Olympians of old
Engaged in a marathon of
Endeavor to heights
Unimagined!
From those mystic days
Since Orpheus’ ardent lyre
Sang notes
Of Nature’s divinity, Her
Eternal sweetness.
We need only sense that
It is in Nature’s essence
We are sharing.
With her, we are joined in
An undying marriage,
A unified pairing –
Our human heritage,
Our dignified bearing.
We share in that song,
We share in that sweetness,
We share in that race,
We share in Her immanence.
This journey is our own.
It goes on, unending!
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 1:11 PM UTC
999
Superfluous were the Sun
When Excellence be dead
He were superfluous every Day
For every Day be said
That syllable whose Faith
Just saves it from Despair
And whose “I’ll meet You” hesitates
If Love inquire “Where”?
Upon His dateless Fame
Our Periods may lie
As Stars that drop anonymous
From an abundant sky.
2.5k
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste.
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,
And weep afresh love’s long since cancelled woe,
And moan th’ expense of many a vanished sight.
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er
The sad account of fore-bemoanèd moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.
2.5k
It's a ship that gets us through the ocean of life when that wave of doubt or unfortunate events falls upon us and we see no way out.
When we're single and need someone to spend those dateless nights with.
When we find ourselves in situations that only a simple call can fix.
When we're bored and want to just laugh at things no one else understands.
When we're old and sad, but hey, even then life is not too bad when you have friendship to get you past-on to the harbor where joy will forever last.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 12:18 AM UTC
Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep,
A maid of Dian’s this advantage found,
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;
Which borrowed from this holy fire of Love
A dateless lively heat still to endure,
And grew a seeting bath, which yet men prove
Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.
But at my mistress’ eye Love’s brand new-fired,
The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;
I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,
And thither hied a sad distempered guest,
But found no cure. The bath for my help lies
Where Cupid got new fire—my mistress’ eyes.
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Crisp summer breeze tickle wreaths of May blooms
Yellow flats traipse blocks where blue ocean looms
Serene waves greet shore's walls in fervent kiss
Moon's afterglow brush the scene in pure bliss
Fine sand witness time like dateless heirlooms
Brine's musk basks nightfall in coastal perfumes
Woven foams' calm poise in fond reminisce
With each cycle's ending, they go amiss
Red heels graze concrete in sultry whispers
As the salt-rimmed glass plays in my fingers
Gotcha!—my hapless victim for tonight
Caught my breath, it only faintly lingers
In front I stand, a door with four ciphers
"Aphrodite, save me" begins the plight
Apr 6, 2020
Apr 6, 2020 at 12:04 PM UTC
because
on some dateless dawn
away from the mown swath at the edge of the road,
grass tall in the meadow, gold already and leaning, each piece seeming
to whisper some secret one might hear if close enough
as blades nodded in unison towards scrambled trees at the edge of the clearing
i was a deer there, hiding, feral, eating secrets
for a moment then, free
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC
How ironic;
they say the same thing you say about them backstabber.
One day it will all turn around and kick you in the shins.
Shake your world so much,
youll wish you were... dead
so you could be still for once.
hope you;
Have fun with that.
Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 7:46 PM UTC
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancelled woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanished sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor'd and sorrows end.
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 9:21 AM UTC
Here's our song
A song for the kids who are home, dateless, on a windy Saturday night
Humming Nirvana songs till 3 in the morning with their best friends.
For the ones who aren't afraid to say they like Katy Perry.
A hymn for the shameless.
Jul 23, 2011
Jul 23, 2011 at 10:25 PM UTC
She sang a lullaby
To help me sleep at night,
She sang a lullaby
To help me sleep so tight.
She played her dateless piano
With the rhythm in her hands
She played the tone of high and low,
I played with vague demands.
She sang a vivacious song
With a greatly tired voice,
She gave me beat when I felt alone
But I just gave her an eerie noise.
She sang a lullaby
And danced with my fearful night,
I sang a destructive sigh
And took away her light.
She sang a lullaby
But I just ignored her light,
She gave me light at home,
Yet I gave her the darkest sight.
She sang a lullaby
‘til the demise of her sound,
She sang with my cries
On this devouring ground.
She sang a lullaby
‘til her throat gave up
She kept on singing with might
But now I’ve seen her stop.
She has stopped the lullaby,
For her life is now gone;
And now I’ve seen her light,
But it’s fading with my dreadful town.
She’s now lying on the ground
And I can’t do anything but cry
I lost her melodious sound,
So I just sing her a lullaby.
She sang a lullaby
To help me sleep at night
Now, I sing her lullaby
To wake her up tonight.
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 6:53 AM UTC
April Seventh, 1928
Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting.
Luster searched the rough, amongst the grass, doing his own bidding.
"Here Caddie," a man shouted before he hit.
Images came back and I entered a fit.
Weeping and wailing I stood, a 33 year old male.
Soon to be reminded of being hooked on a nail.
My sister Caddy treated me well, though mother won't agree.
She thinks I'm pampered by the girl sneaking down a nearby tree.
Caddy ruined the family name.
Or so mother says, but I don't think she's to blame.
The girl lost her scent.
The Compson name is on the descent.
Caddy held me. She smelled like trees.
And not the kind that make one sneeze.
Maury was supposed to be my title.
My uncle's indiscretions made its worth idle.
So i was given something new to be called.
As Uncle Maury's and Mrs. Patterson's relationship stalled.
Miss Quentin picked up after her mother.
Looking absentmindedly for a wayward lover.
She sat next to a man with a red ascot on a swing after supper.
Luster wandered up and picked up something rubber.
...
I have no sense of how things occur.
My illness makes things easy to obscure.
The ticking of a broken watch beats on.
I, for ignoring such nonsense, have been deemed wrong.
Colliding events of different times.
Blurring together dateless lines.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 1:13 PM UTC
I am afraid of what I want.
The longing for eternal slumber only grows
But I don’t have the courage to ravage the deepest layers of myself
Or the drive to find the most lethal combination of chemicals.
I am afraid of the consequences that would follow my failed efforts.
I can’t face anyone now as it is
So I know
I couldn’t bear the damp, questioned looks I’d recieve in the bed of a frigid, steril room.
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
How does one cope with love?
As love be a shadow in the dark, an
Eyeless being.
You ignite my dormant flesh! Your eyes a drug that inflame my
Desire to be thine own.
Love be a curse, and to be
In love, is to be
In hell.
But the dateless sorrow will **** me, yet my love towards thee may
Never be buried. And soon, my bleak soul will
Rest upon the land that took me- Isolated.
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 3:11 PM UTC
Hark! What a feeling!
For thou hath introduced
Free from burden
Guilt misting into nether
Bray out!
But softly, this feeling is dateless
No more drops of sorrow and woe
From whence we came
New beginnings arise
Dost thou wish to come with me?
Hast thou the courage to push through?
I gage to thee new feelings of old
Grace for grace
Nevermore any gull
Nevermore leasing or palter
I am at your hip
I am receiving of thee
Alas the day hath come
For better feelings and truth
From now onto the perpetual wink.
I am yours
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 4:24 PM UTC
An idea forms;
We become the stillness in motion,
Between seeing and making,
Contemplation or action,
The words cause us to act.
We dare give eyes to the idea,
And pen to paper becomes
A resurrection of presences,
Poetry,
Like life writing itself,
A day becomes dateless,
Life lights up these words,
We walk the path of inspiration,
Truth lived and suffered ,
Shared rage
Shared passion,
Shared abyss,
Shared love.....
In the end of the verse
The poet transfigures
Inspiration into incarnations,
Given as a sacrifice of self:
All that remains are the ghosts,
We are siblings in the void.
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 1:37 PM UTC
Shoeless,
in a forest,
insects on my toes.
Have I lost it?
It’s better if I don’t think for so long.
I might stop it,
sabotage it,
before I make it home.
Don’t put that spell on me,
now that I’m free.
Boneless,
in a casket;
washed out to salty sea.
Sun-baked, I’m awake,
but again, it’s just me.
Two times, I have tried
to steer away
from a lake that bears my name,
but now that I’m awake,
the notion just don’t feel the same.
Have I lost we,
now that I’m free?
Weightless,
and dateless.
Lost in time and space.
Doesn’t matter where we begin
so long as it doesn’t end.
I stay in place as everything floats away;
running as if chased.
Lasso the sun or the moon
to rocket me to some other rat race.
If I’ve lost we,
then, so be.
May 10, 2020
May 10, 2020 at 6:25 PM UTC
1.
beneath the ancient
drawn to the dateless rust
uncover surround
mellowed warmth nourishing you
in broken circles
withered ways to be
untimely depth
we sink uncanny
years fell down on your spear
2.
and so
desolate
what is meant
glacial return
again
we say nothing
to traverse … to abandon
unseen without an end
i shatter my landscape after the world
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 9:34 AM UTC
Waiting, dry,
Stale silence sticks to my throat,
Flows through my head,
And sits in my skull:
Softly hissing,
Whines shake along my jaw,
Trembling across my neck.
In my solitude,
I punctuate the hollow room with
Tapping of fingers,
Fidgeting for the folly
Of pointless chatter
But finding only the grease and grime,
Of long gone dates and dateless days.
The counter holds more stories, but we forgot them all.
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 7:20 PM UTC