"deify" poems
I need only to smirk and you’re mine
Anytime
If it’s god that you want
I have dozens in mind
Devilishly divine
Bending time like a grandeur delusional
Spine
In a mad hatter ectoplas-mystical slime
A prismatic drug addict’s first nursery rhyme
Of accursed hearse verses of graphic design
Now to lay to rest intellect spectacles musing
Of selves glorified more than those of my choosing
To deify Destiny’s
Deathly serenity
Plentifully sending me vibrant surprises
And penning my ending in violent demises
Disguises surmised by the climate arises
Girl always there riding my similar waves
As I try to save face digging mechanized graves
But the cloud tentacles
To the depths
Drag me down
To demented ascension
Black holes in the ground
Where disciples of light
And my huntress in white
Vivify me by day
Resurrect me at night
To instruct and deduct
Reasoning in a state
Of a being supreme
Contemplating its fate
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 4:52 PM UTC
You worth more than a thousand golden crowns
and continent wide silks
and all the brighter, wilting stars in the dark
and had you pulled the universe to you,
it will surely crawl under your thigh
as a machination made only for you.
And you worth more than the ten thousand horses that I had slain
and I pulled them onto your sheets
as whispery faeries gnawed onto its skin
onto its slippery vein
gory, but lovely all the same.
Alas, you worth more than another ten thousand of them running
hooves clattered across the impenetrable glass of auroral dome
and I saw you rode on another ten thousand that had not deserve you-
as you deserved gold and stars
and all the greater fury of this land,
not treachery and I.
Gold was the color of your ruse
and your words deify scorching stars into bloom
and you reek of rust — the finest yellow there was.
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
Some of the first mecha featured in manga
& anime were super robots [スーパーロボット _sūpā robotto_],
ultimate, sometimes transforming into weapons
w/ superpowers. They are often one of a kind
products of an ancient civilization, aliens or
mad genius, are usually piloted by Japanese teenagers
& often powered by mystical or exotic energy sources;
Getter Rays, Photonic Energy, Ide, Spiral Power &c.
Sometimes they are formed from
a combination of a few weaker robots;
their abilities described as "quasi-magical";
w/ Miss America becoming less & less
a beauty pageant, it's only a matter of time
before Medusa inherits the mantle;
the revived gods of the ancient world
crossing the rainbow bridge to do battle w/
high-tech monster robots; AI meaning nothing to a flying fist;
Apotheosis, from Greek ἀποθέωσις from ἀποθεοῦν,
apotheoun "to deify"; in Latin deificatio "make divine";
also called divinization & deification;
is the glorification of a subject to divine level;
The term has meanings in theology, where it refers to a belief in art where it refers to a genre;
Defecation is the final act of digestion,
by which organisms eliminate solid, semisolid,
or liquid waste material from the digestive tract via the ****
Humans expel feces w/ a frequency varying
from a few times daily to a few times weekly;
Waves of muscular contraction known as peristalsis
in the walls of the colon move ***** matter
through the digestive tract towards the ******
Undigested food may also be expelled this way,
in a process called _egestion_
Open defecation, the practice of defecating outside
w/out using a toilet of any kind,
is still widespread in some countries,
for example in India, home of the
heroic deities of Hinduism that evolved
from the Vedic era 2nd millennium BCE
through the medieval era, 1st millennium CE
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
warped,
weird,
whirling,
wonder-filled,
a garland of words
eulogized by occidental cosmologists today
to deify the milky way
for five millennia,
in clandestine chambers of
the temple of the lord with a lotus navel,
oriental sages, finely tuned into
ultimate mantras of the cosmos,
initiated ‘twice born’ namboodris of kerala
into a mellifluous sanskrit verse....
a potent heart melting hymn
where our star-studded galaxy,
milky in complexion,
is seen as a spinning jagged-edged discus,
worn as an ornamental ring
around vishnu’s slender index finger,
from whose whirling lotus navel
originate the birth of inseparable twins:
warped space intertwined with flowing time
now this is a garland of exquisite beauty!
© 2019
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 11:29 AM UTC
Nefarious;
A man said,
"we have been tried and weighed,
yet we are found wanting"
with free will we were ordained
men of yore and of new age shall seeks;
to deify, to rule, and to escape
A man also said,
"Each new morn, new widow howls,
new infants cry,
new insults slap the face of heaven"
but punishment comes not,
no, all the heavens does is but watch
I say,
"Through trials and test of darkness,
we shall revolve"
but the will need break free
a step to triumph and liberation;
'know friends and enemies apart'
Want and needs, desires and greed;
clouds human's soul
and so we choose what to believe,
never questioning the slimmest chance of untrue
and so we live,
like a horse tied to rein, led by the noose
©Pen of a True Gemini™
Monarch Muse™
23rd July, 2023
Jul 24, 2023
Jul 24, 2023 at 9:46 AM UTC
Pro-
Photo-frame on the wall,
beautifully adorned.
Empty.
Snap your hero in.
-logue
Never mind their foibles;
Every fault is just a small weakness
when found in the otherwise great.
Dying to deify,
we are itching to sanctify;
Castigation unabashed,
but, for the struggling everyman.
What if we will never find
another son of a carpenter
who will die preaching love?
Epi-
In a world starved of messiahs
ready always to worship ever
but be, never,
iconoclasts are icons;
Sentimental impossibilities
in the language of hope
aye, fete-worthy acceptables.
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 1:16 PM UTC
You dissolute deputation
Of disparate dipsomaniacs
Disparately determined
To drive me, distance me
Definitely, diametrically
Dizzily daft, daily.
Ditzy, I determined to
Deftly divide them;
I defy them, deny them,
Don't deify them
But deride them
Stand beside them
And guide them
To wander away
Until some other day
Some other fool
Who, as a rule
Digs abuse and misuse.
It's not a truce
But an absolute demand
For their total surrender
So they remember
From December to December
I am not a lifetime member
Of the “Beat Me” club.
Aye, there's the rub
You thought I liked it
So you could spike it
Like a basketball.
But, my soul is not at all
Into anything you could call
Masochism or submission.
So, if your mission is
To collect acolytes and slaves
You'd just better save that
For someone sicker than I
And bid me a fond goodbye.
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 5:53 PM UTC
Ample armpit hair whipping in the wind.
We were forced to deify ourselves vicariously through stems of trees, millions of years old, hugging the moss.
Sick of piles of coins in innumerable quantities.
Sick of contrived smiles
Sick of listening to convoluted phrases shrouded in rhetoric from quivering lips, drooling with neediness and existential despair.
Sick of you.
Sick to our very core
The torch burns.
The chorus churns:
Awakening, awakening, awakening.
Embrace, embrace, embrace the embryonic ember.
No neon lights, no abstractions, no overarching laws.
We are the Pagan Icons
And we do
what we must.
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC
I dote on you because I love you
I adulate you because of what you do, to me
I'll canonize you all the day through
No, I deify you, because of what you do, to me
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
Baptized in the framework,
emboldened dregs,
stolen legs,
having the will enabled,
will stoke flares.
Hope there's enough left,
to capitalize and trademark,
Mark.
These machination metaphorics may get way dark.
Witness the churn,
turn barrel, pour fuel.
Envision thrift in the burn.
Unequivocal innocents in the thick of it learn,
gun metal, flower petal.
Power is sick of our tone.
They play their tricks on our young,
to build a system above.
We killed the sadness
fit to galvanize
a truthful spirit,
loose beneath the masses.
lifted powder keg,
rug and broom,
others soon to be suiting fashion
Buried in a priory cast.
Wire he tapped,
isn't the first,
was a fiery blast.
I heard the ground stir, out turned choirs of wrath.
Give baron bread, give miner shaft,
and all the pigs just laughed.
All the swine surrounded, founded "Freedom".
Heavy quotes aligned to,
"leave em lying".
We declined to deify, redefine our civil vision .
Twisted lips and sirens, rent,
systems turn, climate,
worth, time to learn to hear and listen,
kids, earth, diet.
'On the list I promise'.
Truth can't hurt if you stay quiet.
Truth in earnest moves the strongest.
Our seeds to earth are truth in kindness.
Grow.
Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 4:34 PM UTC
Life happens to us unexpectedly, and a mystery it remains right till the end.
Abound in paradoxes and vicissitudes, where unpredictability is the only trend.
In a party to your friends did not say a word, alone in your room you soliloquized.
A hit comedy could elicit not one smile, that old joke every time has you humorized.
Your lover's perfume intoxicates deeply, a gallon of liquor keeps you arid sober.
A melancholy minute can last for a year, a blissful decade in a second gets over.
The ones you take for granted are those who love you, who you deify take you for a fool.
Can keep calm after a thousand insults, one word is enough to make you lose your cool.
A maestro's melodies are lost on you, a little child's laughter immensely does inspire.
Tell a hundred lies and don't even blink, speaking just one truth makes you perspire.
Insomniacal on the best mattress, on the soil in the park you snore and sleep.
Laugh at your own darkest woes, your best friend's troubles always make you weep.
Stare wide eyed at the high noon sun, can't look in your own eyes when you did wrong.
**** a hundred foes and still feel weak, take a beating for your cause to feel strong.
Months of hard labor to become a genius, a moment of error and you are the worst ******
Succeeding with just a mote of effort, you fail miserably when you work the most hard.
Everything is possible and anything can happen, clairvoyancy is just a waste of time.
Never ever give up what you love, with you as a victim there is no greater crime.
Dec 30, 2009
Dec 30, 2009 at 8:29 PM UTC
It is in our nature to immortalize.
Reify our god-ness, deify our emotions,
And every breathe that passes, must
Never
Die.
So we dream of books to write.
A scrap here, a piece there,
Rejoicing in the artistry, making
Picture
Frames.
It is a pain deemed necessary.
To know, to feel,
To make trauma the vocabulary, magnifying
Suffering
Souls.
So we call tears the crux.
The ****** is our pain, the sting of it all,
Death and loss not enemies; dear
Old
Friends.
It is sentimentalized.
The whole of humanity, the joy of bittersweet:
Call me a bitter harvest such as thee,
Let funeral bells forever ring
A dirge by children, for their mothers sing
A memorial in song for every thing
My heart is glad to finally sing
A wooing song for one like thee
But a better life for you and me
No game for two, but a crowd of three
What better chance for artistry
What prouder show of humanity
Than to have you stolen away from me?
If this is the sum of humanity
To suffer in such ways you see
Then begone with my humanity.
This I do not want or need.
Let
Me
Forget
Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 1:14 AM UTC
On my way
To the grave
I will save
Nothing manmade
Death the thief
Drags us beneath
Go in peace
Sweet release
Shifting tide
Serpentine
Behind their ties
They can only lie
Bitter qualms
Somber psalms
Play the odds
Trust in the gods
Testify
Thee end is nigh
Deify
The empty sky
Dec 18, 2019
Dec 18, 2019 at 10:28 AM UTC
She sits, and she’s pale and cadaverous,
her black hair, short to her chin, the dye in her skin,
the corpselike designs deify her to me,
and she is marvelous.
-
A snakebite in her voluptuous blackened painted lips
eagers me to receive a curious kiss
upon my own who so long for,
the taste of her, like nothing before.
-
The gorgeous permanent stains of ink
upon her ***** thighs, arms, and calves,
exemplify her smooth pearl-white skin
her delicate tattooed knuckles and hands,
could now easily tear me in half.
-
As i try to look away
from that teasing, black lingerie,
she turns and looks with pale blue eyes,
the most wonderful I have ever seen,
so far into my soul she delves that I admit,
I am but a lowly, mortal being.
-
This Goddess of death, this Massacre Angel
what some call not a treasure,
she is in all my nightmarish dreams,
and I always owe her the pleasure.
-
I am a slave to her eyes,
that so easily peer through me,
it is not that I tread not, or wear disguise,
but the answer always eludes me.
-
Though she is my unholy holiness that
grants me dark in wretched light,
one day I shall pass and our spirits
will lay together for an eternity of
a macabre romantic night.
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 11:47 PM UTC
Deify me, I illuminate your world.
I shine like your luminous guardian angel.
In the cosmos, I am your adored arch-angel.
I awake to brighten a lack-luster morning.
I always your routine activities herald.
I glitter for the flora to have their fill,
so do I for men to energize their mill.
Of the ocean currents I keep on warning.
I make the flora lush for medicine and food.
I awake for the globe's universal good,
and sleep at even with a sated crimson smile.
I pave the way for the silver and dew for a while.
The globe's life would cease without my needful presence.
Of the firmament, I am the very essence.
Jan 16, 2024
Jan 16, 2024 at 2:34 PM UTC
espy me now,
vivify me now,
beautify me now,
satisfy me now,
gratify me now,
tumefy me now,
mollify me now,
clarify me now,
classify me now,
sanctify me now,
immortalize me now,
deify me now,
rubify me now,
crucify me now,
mummify me now,
reify me now,
codify me now,
ratify me now,
glorify me now,
magnify me now,
mystify me now,
minify me now,
justify me now,
stultify me now,
stupefy me now,
falsify me now,
nullify me now,
villify me now,
vitrify me now,
calcify me now,
ossify me now,
fossilize me,
forget me
and
walk away.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
spill your glowing grace over me
let it bask my shoulders in golden light
i want to ascend to your mighty mountain
let rest a thorny crown upon my head
then must great kings kneel at my sight
and forever live in heavenly youth
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 12:11 AM UTC
I'm tingling inside, as the rage raises up,
Cursing words through my clenched teeth,
Swearing that on day I'll hurt you like undid to me.
O the lies you must of told to get me here,
As my soul starts to melt.
How did you create this fake love? It's dragging me down to hell.
I'm burning here you see,
And I bet you can't help but laugh,
Throwing me your ***** looks picking at all my scabs.
But I'm looking for a path to get out,
After all I need too.
I can't bear to stay in this hell, I need to completely leave you.
I try and I try,
Only for my heart to deify,
Me from leaving.
So I stay there,
I lay there,
Already defeated.
Get me out of here,
Don't turn a deaf ear,
My skin is starting to sear,
There is fire in my ear,
Someone safe me from my fear.
Then. You. Came. Along.
Operation : Prolong,
The pain that I feel now.
Challenge accepted,
Let's get down.
You might not save me,
But you can try,
Give me some hope,
Wet the desert that has gone so dry.
Be my pope ,and preach me words of love.
Be my way out of hell, my sweet little Dove.
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 3:35 PM UTC
sometimes, it's the songs without words, the ones that slip silently beneath the undercurrent, that will seek you out,
that will sing you the terrible story of crows to mend your heart, that will whisper what no one will tell you because it's your soul manifest, it's your heart reaching out --
they open themselves slowly, but you have to be careful with them; you have to look
at them from afar, and bow, and maybe then, she will open her mouth to you, where not words but wisteria lie, where not passion but pain rest, where everything raw and immaterial pours out in the haze and panic of devolution in the chaos of the earth and skies and all that suffers in between where in the center of the swirling mass amidst the high cries of sorrow and love will be her
and just,
her ,
some songs will move you, shift the light through you, shift the pedestal of surety and blow it right away.
some songs will obliterate you, but most will hold you.
and when they'll release you, you will fall, and it will be so glorious and so terrifying that you will become a god in the storm and you will know, truly know, then, what it is like to be immortal, to be unhurt and untouched, unmoored and unbridled, impossible against the possibilities of a mortal existence.
you will deify.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 5:30 PM UTC
Waves of maggots
Swimm in oceans of rot
We spread and multiply like fungus
Dull the many minds
Nullify the lower kind
Post your face and deify
What a shame
The masses maimed
The horse is wearing stilts
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC
Set the mood
Redline
Build the hill
Fill that stem
Inhale. Hold it in.
Take that breath
Relax. Just relax.
I'm waving the smoke away
Both hands extensions of
the atrium that primes the pump
I'm beating as bleating
Green veil is parted re - vealed
Reveals the one I'm afraid of - the
old me
I'm counting days defeated
Dead days used my blood took
the look that I sculpted and weaponized - it
as something other
Set the mood
Lazerhawk
Build the hill
Fill that stem
Inhale. Hold it in.
Take that breath
Relax. Relax. Relax.
How am I a slave to myself I wonder
I wonder
How am I a slave?
How am I a slave to myself I wonder
I wonder
I ride the ghost train
I deify the old ghosts - I
I never meant to board forever - I
Am shadow. Am product. The Ubik.
I deify the past as answer -
nothing left to say
nothing left to say
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Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 9:01 PM UTC
Taking medication may be fastening together the seams that could split. Between SSRI, HRT, and caffeine the moments speed, fleeting before I secure my grip. What's the point of living as a zombie losing opportunity through barely there fingers? I can be **** for you, I'm fond of pleading on my knees, tongue over my teeth, waiting patiently for my mouthful -- but what's point? What would it solve to introduce a controlled study meltdown? Well, I see the seasons coming at first light. Spring and Fall pull balance apart. So pull apart, because these meds don't help when my mind conspires without me, but with the world. Leave me alone. I'm caught gazing at the canvas in the white on walls. If it appears I'm choking, I am. I choke myself to gasping near to death as a means to depart from my leaden regret. Do I grow wings? No. Do I ascend? No. Do I myself then deify? No. It takes endlessly repeated little deaths to prevent permanent disintegration in passion's cruel flame.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 6:59 AM UTC
I ride on the back of a lonely elephant
and he tells me there is no shame in loss
and suffering is brief.
I trust him
for he would remember.
There is gospel over hill and yonder
songs of a god whose name has not graced my lips
since I was young enough to believe
true love conquered all
and ugliness was apparent in blink and gait.
It says to love
because love is the most beautiful gift He gave us.
I shake my head, such foolishness -
trust is my greatest treasure
for it is the only way to deify someone.
I wish no metamorphosis to be your God
when you open your secrets and fiddle with your nightmares,
for I only wish to take your hands
cradle your heart
and kiss your eyes, breathe your soul.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 1:58 AM UTC
"Fake news, fake news!"
The boy cried fake news every time a story
failed to paint him in the most positive possible light,
neglected to deify him in the most sunny way.
He denounced, decried and denigrated
reporters who would check with two more sources
if their moms claimed to love them
the way their ink-stained forebears did.
He attempted to discredit truth-seekers
who actually had stricter codes of ethics than doctors,
cops, actuaries,
any profession really.
The callow boy cried fake news so much that
his most loyal followers shouted “fake news” out car windows
at TV reporters reporting on alligators that crossed the street,
fired drive-by potshots at newsrooms out of sheer lunacy.
The boy cried fake news so much
that he did protest too much, that his cries sounded fake,
that his credibility strained
against the press corps who produced
backing documents, audio recordings and multiple sources.
The boy cried fake news so much
it degenerated into cliche and ceased to mean anything at all.
The boy cried fake news at a time when the news
felt financial pressured into running clickbait articles like
“Eight Hanukkah Lessons I Learned from
Smoking a Menorah ****
or the “12 Most *** Days of Christmas.”
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 2:11 AM UTC