"daystar" poems
#
*if you are the ocean
then I am the mist
that kisses the morning
the way I’d want
to be kissed
if you are the ocean
then anchors aweigh
we'll sail through the evening
and on to the light
the daystar is dawning
we'll keep to the right
like Peter and Wendy
to Neverlands' door
we'll sail on forever
and touch every shore
if you are the ocean,
come wash me away
to some misty morning
and there we will play
if you are the ocean,
then sing me a song
of sailors and treasures
and places long gone
if you are the ocean
come wash me away
to a place, together we’ll
forever stay...*
#
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 6:05 AM UTC
In the dunes, the dust raises a dirge
echoing in the nooks of Qardu:
prophet of the pasts, a ghoul
who led an arc on to the mountain
singed by the daystar where now,
men cut their hands to quench infant-thirsts.
And outraged women wail into the nights.
All for this? All for this? The anguished
song in the valley in an archaic tongue
that the Spirit stands surveying
that called out a fire off a bush, leading
a nation out of wilderness. Now, who
delight in murdering children.
The emperor of the world, is busy playing ball
offering the slaughtered heads to Quetzalcoatl,
and a beating heart plucked out
of a terrified infidel does not move him
as much as the stench of oil. Black
is the song of despair whispering in the smoke
blighting the reign of K'inich Ajaw,
all for this, Marya, all for this?
And the chief of Angles is dismayed, the
spoils of crusades blow back as young men
disappear from your homes, emerging
as butchers in black baying for slaughter,
journeying to the worlds end with
Gilgamesh along the Tigris.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
As the daystar crowns a new horizon, Night's silence is sundered and Light's symphony rings.
Divine rays colour the low-lying clouds a veritable plethora of hues, both bright and subtle. Cottonwool-spun gems are arrayed, layered and drifting about on the morning wind.
Heaven shows itself in the sky.
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 5:45 PM UTC
I read eulogies from time to time
to pass the time, I find in some rejected newspaper.
The language is foreign, for I am
alive and in two hundred or so words I am to know,
who this person was and that
they were loved or respected or validated in two
dimensions plus words and a
picture, when not so long ago they were three
dimensions that filled voids in
other peoples lives, striving to make the world
around them a better place,
battled hard in a war, and fell its only victim.
Swallow the bitter pill,
there ain't no better place,
than where you are right
now, with words written
as plain as the pain on
your face, so listen and
I will try to take you to
a better place maybe I
will transport you to
a euphoric utopia but
that will take opiates,
for my words will just
make you dizzy, Gillespie,
get off that computer and
go to bed, and then you
will dream dreams of us
meeting instead, where I
will be humble and you
will be dapper unless you
are a girl then you will
be "a beautiful rendition of the Mona Lisa"
pray what is behind that
smile and how do your
whites stay so pearly and
your hair, so light and curly,
like the clouds over head,
with a background of blue
sky that holds that daystar,
and reflects off the water in
the duck pond and blinds
my eyes and makes the tear
oft fall, salty on my sleeve,
as I hold one up to wipe
a tear, I feel your hanky
brush my eye lash and I blush with unabashed charm,
but if we were manly men
walking under the trees,
along a pathway of asphalt,
walking sticks pressed into palms
of hands, not those topical trees,
along side us grass, dotted with Canada geese,
oh do watch your step dear
boy, or you might grease your
soul, which would be a helluva
a way to let this perfect day
slip away and take us from
this better place.
It matters not who I am with, for when I am with you, whom ever you are,
I am away from here, therefore found in a better place.
©DWE122013
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 2:19 AM UTC
The Sovereign of Songbirds
Has been roused
Emitting layers of harmony
Borne of exultation, borne of woe, and
Reverberating in the Key of Elysium
Let your dreams guide you.
As the fulgent daystar
Dawns upon your starry spirit,
The musicality, the euphony of amour
Will abide within.
Soar unto the stratosphere,
For the limitlessness of flight
Belongeth to
The earthen vessel waxing ethereal;
Furthermore, it is only achieved through self-transcendence.
Ye are Children of Manumission;
Therefore, fulminate from sea to shining sea
Until the obsidian of hate
Descends into Magisterial Oblivion
Arising anew as The Element of Freedom.
The Requiem of the Revenant shall rise,
The Maw of Darkness will fall;
Ultimately, the Paean of Light will
Resound upon the four corners
Of the Terraqueous Mother.
(Se' lah)
Apr 7, 2021
Apr 7, 2021 at 4:22 AM UTC
He is cherry trees in the spring evening,
precious to behold as night slowly falls.
He speaks with a softness never-failing
to capture all the weary he enthrals.
With a grace like Heaven, he passes by
and snatches me up from the soiled floor.
He is the daystar in the morning sky,
glowing brightly from behind the closed door.
If only I could catch him when he sings,
place a mirror before his smiling face,
I could show him all of the beautiful things
that he hides in this poor, forgotten place.
We could talk like friends in free, easy speech
but, alas, he is just beyond my reach.
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC
What is it that brings
Fear in the night?
Is it the goblins and ghosts, or,
The monsters ‘neath our beds?
Or, is it a desire to face the sun
At the moment of our death,
To die for the world to see?
Darkness, nowhere to hide.
It follows everywhere.
A strong desire not to die
In dark, damp shadows,
Where not even the worms
Can find the body.
An all-consuming will to see
A sunrise, once more,
To lose the dread of having
To die alone…Flies
Will keep one company.
Yet, the terror begins to set
As the daystar gasps its last breath.
The light wanes once more, and
The chilly, wet breeze begins
To lap the nape:
Hairs on end, it comes again,
Loneliness and the reaching to feel.
Eyes squinting, desperate
To soak the day’s last rays.
Then uncaring, merciless nature replaces
Twilight with shadows of doubt.
The flicker of candlelight casts
Those same reflections and shapes
That plague your reality.
And you ask again:
Why you?
Why is it you have to die?
And, if this be your fate,
Can it please be by daylight?
Mar 13, 2010
Mar 13, 2010 at 12:45 PM UTC
Where does man, where does woman, where does beast go
When slumber dawns upon their fleshly vessel?
When the twilit sky bleeds into a stygian veil?
When the musicality within begins to take psychosomatic form?
I reminisce over the eventuality that stirred my burgeoning.
It quaked my lucubrations, my excogitations, intellectualizations;
Ye, The Incendiary Phoenix Flame billows within. Rebirth awaits
every anima forged by The Apotheosis of The Astral Flame.
The doughty firebrand in me shalt nought surrender,
The Gaian Warrior within shall ne'er be forgotten,
And my reverenc'd doubts shall be undone.
O, whence all incredulities have been uttered The Leadings of Lovelight shall prevail. The Vestige that once ravaged my remembrance shall vanish into The Magisterial Tides of Oblivion,
We are all one with the Blood-Tinged Oath, The Fulgent Daystar;
He, exhaled eternity into the souls vexed by mortality.
Underneath the Sun:
There breathes an azure vista.
What lieth above our aethereal aegis has incited inquisitiveness aeons aforetime
Open your hearts to the cosmic currents, the transcendent torrent,
The Communal Oneness of The Primal Phantasmagoric;
By that One,
For all time we were summoned.
Question what lie before to be spirited away.
Listen to the arcadian zephyr whisper
Through in, through out your every breath. Trust, the Sanctity of intuition.
Coloring the Changing of The Seasons.
The aqueous dew throngs upon virescent leaflets,
A fulgurant surge fulminates
Upon The Celestial’s bedarkened sky.
Red- Shift Existence: evidence, upon which a system of belief expands, under examination
Therefore, it is our duty to ponder the Legacy of the Sages
That we might unravel the esoteric secrets
That function as a key
In gainsaying, in overturning The Lock of Fallacy.
Finally we gain understanding, we acquire wisdom
Altering our cognitive trajectory.
What is Life,
What is Love,
What is Divinity,
Without creativity?
Without imagination?
Without vision?
We must all surrender to
The Sacral Expressions of Omnibenevolence.
Jun 27, 2020
Jun 27, 2020 at 6:50 PM UTC
dance on the daybreak darling
let every morning, daystar wake you
be dazzled by its beauty
dap your heart in day-dreams
i dare say you will love the first dawning
Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 8:02 AM UTC
Unprovide my mind, please.
Lest I care about matters of the flesh.
Listen to my expostulation,
as I am prostrate bowed.
I do not want exoneration,
for lust stains will remain
but I can no longer stand
the tenacity of it.
For it no longer can command
in guaranteeing its veracity.
So I long for someone to fetch
this excellent wretch from me.
The inner dome of Heaven has fallen
and with it, this wicked thing's ethereal appearence.
Revealing the venereal act planned from the begining.
I run far and hide from Daystar.
No longer enamored with its lustful glamour.
I wish for its allure to be nullified
and so it may unprovide my mind.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 11:24 AM UTC
the sun descends lower
spreading
a cerise and tangerine haze
across lilac clouds,
while a pink blush of stillness
diffuses
across earth and heaven
creating a soft space
for nighttime
till finally
the Daystar pulls up
its night covers,
letting the darkness
take hold, while
dreaming of the morning’s
rosy aurora
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 8:41 PM UTC
An artist in quarantine.
Let us set the scene.
Teeny tiny
living space.
Move around
the mess
with grace,
no stress!
What to do,
what to do...
For a start,
I'll make some art.
I'll write
some poetry,
some fiction.
Suddenly
I am nocturnal,
and suddenly
the daystar's light,
infernal.
Days get hazy;
I go crazy.
This is fine.
Yeah.
This is fine.
Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 1:06 PM UTC
∙∙∙◦◦•◎•◦◦∙∙∙
The daystar fills his folly time;
warmth, passion, fulfillment and ease.
But thy heart was blinded by much uncertainty.
His love for the night is like a transient song
with the urge to lurk a distant tone.
For as he knew; one can never be wrong
The beam of the moon waketh,
And lo, it silks to that may-time dew.
She rise and sets to an empty hemisphere
to yonder mountains of ebony hue.
An angel cries for thy night has fallen to thee.
To that heartless lover without a single plea.
The heartless day, the drops of night.
A blazing trail of his dubious light.
The day ponders to his dessert dreams,
may they met again or never again as it seems.
As the night trod to her vanishing place.
She gazed to the day rising to his misty grace.
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 1:36 AM UTC
*At the reluctant transition of the daystar
Where lantern flies tote the account of murk admitting through Oak quarter
The colored palette of Dusk swallowed by the curve of the Earth
Umber tree line , audial aberrations , the fervor of burgeoning , multitudinous songs before ebony companion Venus
Dove coo , Katydid trill , Mosquito hum trios
Bobwhite Quail give thanks to the dying day , as
reverberating odes do carry from blackened palmettos* ...
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 7:54 PM UTC
A strange cruel eidolon often glides thru my silent room, then slinks away dry and smooth as that daystar punches through my window pane -like daggers of wakefulness to pierce my dreams once more; and layers of consciousness likened to pale dead skin, to lay bare unwanted awareness of a world too embarrassed to open up that stained and hollow door.
Streaming images on my mind's eye are outstretched, like the gossamer threads of a silver web, woven taut, near a hypnotic light, to draw the uncanny moth, feeding the ravening host tonight.
Nightly visions driven by restless fantasies most phantasmagorical, scream and shout in palm-muted half-tones fluttering as the matrix of horrors, divined thru an oracle, haunt that same silver death-bed... one that reaches out and frightens me like a shape-shifting ghost, (alight and deplorable.)
Though it's all in my head, it's still all too horrible!
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 8:30 AM UTC
*My muse , the springtime earth
The smoke of chimney
fires just as the daystar expires ,
with burnt orange goodbyes ,
'tis a diddy begging lyrics , a melody
in the moment , a dash of fleeting sunlight
in the Shangri-La forest ,
Copper , lavender , technicolor salutations
Mourning dove recitations* ...
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 7:11 PM UTC
Every time you sigh,
a little of you goes by
And every time you cry,
you always think it's time.
Flower in the wind,
where are you going?
You may have sinned
and stopped growing.
Why are you so afraid?
Always shivering and bickering
You always have a maid
Why aren't you listening?
Words don't mean a thing
Or do they?
You're just a fling
Hurts, nay?
Staring at the daystar,
why is it so afar?
Does it hate the way we live
Or is it because in the wrong we believe?
Notorious it may seem,
fixing at the seams
Why is it notorious?
You're just oblivious.
Thus, would I hate
Doesn't have an excuse.
It may be too late,
You lose
How much it annoys!
Where is that voice?!
Boys will be boys
But the girls, who knows?
© Jerrika Tonio, 2015
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 11:48 AM UTC
Constant starlight
our star
burns late into the night
Summer Sun
our Sun
warms us from winters sleep
The daystar
our star
early morn arrives, leaves late.
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 7:50 AM UTC
some wear stars on their flag
some stars in their eyes
as if a star could be plucked out the sky
the daystar here runs through our blood
not the Star itself
her being her is sufficient
like a lover who loves
because that's all that a lover can do
a law written in the heart of love itself.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 8:23 AM UTC
Like a moonbeam
Brighter than the Daystar,
I am blinded by
Woman in a soft
Midnight garden;
When the day kisses
The night,
The light is weeping.
I walk alone.
The soul with no
Absolution
Is an infinite impossible.
My throat caught
In a tearful choke,
The missing song
Under the sun
Is the Moon's tender
Presences.
Love escapes
Into a masked misunderstanding,
Another misunderstanding
Hides the Father in me
Under this misguided wing
I quiver under a fools blade,
I love like a child
Lost in a forgotten story,
Missing.
Oct 4, 2017
Oct 4, 2017 at 9:12 PM UTC
Sweep of Galaxy
stars innumerable
watch over and weave
our dreaming.
Daystar our star
wakes her children
to daydream our dreams
until nightfall.
Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 10:54 AM UTC
The sun descends lower
and
lower
spreading
a pink and orange haze
across purple clouds,
while stillness
diffuses
across earth
and sky
creating a space
for nighttime
till finally
the Daystar pulls up
its night covers,
letting the darkness
take hold.
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 10:46 PM UTC
I was fifteen years old,
when I witnessed
that beautiful ocean
for the first time.
yeah, it was huge,
just like a carpet
even my eyes failed to see
that entire gross spread
of emerald blue water
But I was twenty years old
when healing shore washed away
all of my melancholy,
and the aural of the tide race
felt pure as the driven snow.
I got vibes of another universe
within my own self,
where daystar was shining
right at the top of my head
it captured the carbon copy of
happy valley.
and I am today year old
when I realized
it stays loyal
whether day or night
sun or moon
it holds the reflection
of changing sky
ocean breeze,
cold but warm
white horses,
salty but smooth,
comes and goes
but it stays
within boundless boundaries.
Nov 10, 2020
Nov 10, 2020 at 11:14 AM UTC
That daystar etches skin
tattoos black ink,
her lovers name.
Jul 27, 2023
Jul 27, 2023 at 3:24 PM UTC
My ladies are not lost
They tarry a while
Loaded down with disturbance and hurt
With loneliness and fear
Yet she is gentle, as the dew at dawn
As the breast of the thrush
And she is true like the sycamore
She has pain that tears at her soul
That bruises her very heart
She has deep sadness
That swallows her down and steals her hope
But all is not gone
Is not out of reach
A day is coming
A day of new beginnings
A new world
With a new sun
That will light the path to the real life
She will cleanse her tired feet in the moist green meadow
And dance among a flame of tulips
A garland of daisies will be strung upon her pale neck
She will kiss the fallow deer
And frolic with the little ape
Her sadness will be wiped clean by the streams of joy
That will flow endlessly from the mountain
Trees will bow to her with offerings of colour
All flowers and tastes will excite her endlessly
White topped mountains will be her candles
Lit by the glorious light of a new dawn
Love will overwhelm her
And take her by the hand
For she has been told
Her eye will behold
Sights that she has never beheld
Sounds that she has not heard
Her mother's voice singing a lullabye
The face of her grandmother's mother
The sweet echo of pure silence
Her little ones will flourish, free of their scars
And she will taste motherhood for the first time
With all the rich meaning that it brings
And she will greet her lost ones, stolen by death
There will be no trembling or hiding
No sting of creature, or death
She will not need to hope
For all her hopes will be fulfilled
All malice and breakdown of spirit will be lifted from her gentle heart
That it might be soft and true again
As her beauty
She will never be lost again
Never know mourning again
She will forever know peace
As a green forest that sways in a gentle breeze
That whispers to her
Words of love, of comfort and rest
For a daystar will rise in her heart
And she will be saved
She will be whole
For she has bowed to a righteous king
And he has promised my loves, my ladies
They will be there, on that cleansed earth
When that kingdom arrives
The kingdom of love and healing
May 3, 2020
May 3, 2020 at 1:26 PM UTC