"divinations" poems
I will always remember the moment we met.
(Haunting woodlands in springtime, your slim silhouette)
The glint in your eyes sparked a tempest at dawn
overwhelming the dreams of a slumbering fawn.
I will always remember your singular smile
(Fusing fantasies, fancies and phantoms the while)
when I brought you a daisy, then fled from the room,
weaving dizzy designs on a mystical loom.
I will always remember first touching your hand.
(Like the wing of a sparrow, frail fingers were fanned)
With my heartbeat aflutter, I jittered with joy -
on the surface, a man, though inside still a boy.
I will always remember the sound of your laugh
(Merry mermaid amused in a summer sea bath)
as we strayed 'long the strand, for a moment, alone,
with your tresses a’ tousle and tumbled and blown.
I will always remember your breath on my skin
(Seeking castles in chaos, a spirit in spin)
as you drew me aside and our tongues first entwined -
tangled twists of amour had begun to unwind.
I will always remember the fires of love.
(Shades of autumn ablaze in the tree leaves above)
Crazy passions ignited whenever we lay
painting stars in the night with the dazzle of day.
I will always remember the nightingale's tune.
(Divinations awash neath a ruddy blood moon)
When we kissed to its cadency, laughed as we danced,
lurking lanterns in limbo forged shadows enhanced.
I will always remember the shattering knell -
(Wanton words tolled in winter... ‘Adieu, dear... farewell’)
just a note near a nook where so often we slept
which I read and reread and reread while I wept.
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 5:43 AM UTC
he wasn’t so much a peddler
(as many had quietly assumed)
more of a rural shuffler
or social inchworm
than a mover and a shaker
but boy
could he dish out those jabs
and ad lib on a whim
and draw sweet melodies
from that broken 6 string
all night long
carving out reflections
oh, those deep intuitive divinations!
steadily preaching
on the breathtaking joys
and fruits
of the vibrant land
*grow your own
seeds to be sown
clean and green
a nourishing machine!*
silver linings (straight from truth room)
clearly seen
from those uncompromised
garden views
casting his baited lines
from softly pebbled shores
(his nanna, and poppa
were there, years before)
giving grace…
and basking deeply
in the bounty of the fenua
his love of life was insatiable
moving from town to town
to nourish his soul
digging way beyond the deep
for that shrouded purpose
that soulful existence
that many spend a lifetime
looking to find
three boats settle
in the quiet harbor
a net shed basking in the sand
peaceful and serene
(with a hint of emerald green)
Sunset red
with crawfish (and lemongrass)
to keep us
bountifully fed
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 4:29 PM UTC
False prophets, you dig our graves with sinister divinations,
Bestow unrepentant indignation, and neglect to hide your shallowness.
Cast condescending shadows from high upon your sanctimonious mount, but
We wear our pride; our faith and love, our shrouds, and we will not be buried in the night.
Oh, I say woe unto them that call evil good and substitute darkness for light.
Oh, weary we may be, but forsaken we are not. Tread lightly when with lust and greed you choose to cast your lots.
Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 11:31 PM UTC
How bombastic is the traditional English breakfast, as she spreads her colorful and cardiac enticements across the span of our traditional expectations.
We have far surpassed the golden age of steam, my gorgeous friend of midnight festivals.
Their truly is an eerie silence which is deafening, when seaweed caresses the surface of oceanic intrepidity. So, my brother of anthropological inseparability – kiss the breeze of this powerful and enigmatic mysticism.
I praise the shamanic divinations of Bolivian forests, where entrails are the delight of Haruspex and the Erythroxylum Coca bends her rigid stem on the West face of the Andes.
I have one question to ask of thee: How do we truly interpret Mesopotamian liver?
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:35 PM UTC
As I ran out of air
And drowned in a sea
Which I've never known before
Starring in this unimpressive finale
I had this overwhelming
Unquenchable thirst
Desperate for a droplet
Preparing for the worst
Everyone's inability to hear
Matched with my absence
Of words to at least convey
To end this prolonged pretense
So I spoke with an unknown voice
And sang with an unheard tune
As if chanting spells and divinations
I created and casted my own rune
Surrounded by coldly fastidious eyes
I played and danced to a song
Which none has ever encountered
But felt and knew all along
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 3:21 AM UTC
I'll take up smoking
because it will bring warmth to my lungs, worn from lamenting,
& I'll learn to play the acoustic guitar,
because the songs of its strings resonate reminiscently with the sound of your voice.
I'll lose sleep in waiting
for your greetings & goodbyes,
& I'll find strength in old messages
(old memories)
you once felt desire to send.
[one day I'll learn, & I'll secure myself in place.]
---
you'll grow tall in your heart,
because you do not yet know the love of which you are capable,
& you'll lose hope sometimes,
because there are still so many mistakes to be made.
you'll eat late in the evenings,
because you've got so many better things to do,
& you'll eventually forget that these years,
(these moments,)
don't last forever.
[one day, you'll learn, & you'll fly.]
---
& we, like the tide,
will rise & fall.
we'll say hello on occasion,
but never goodbye.
we'll find vices to fill our gaps,
(because the summer is over, my love)
& the sun is setting on our time.
& some day, we'll learn, & we'll migrate in bittersweet peace.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 7:44 PM UTC
There is a cottage by a disused well,
And in it lives a strange and haggard crone,
Knock on her door and she will give a tell
Of future moments yet to you unknown.
No crystal ***** or scattered runic tiles,
No divinations of the palm or flame,
Her forecasts lie in bodies she defiles,
The practice of the necromancer's game.
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 8:15 PM UTC
Crawling out my skin
Out my ends, I’m morphing
Listen to the hiss off my lips, I’m morphing
Corrosive potion
Moments wading in ocean
Static evolution
Rootless traction
Weaving thru the nexus
My future re-enacted
Iridescent
Unbridled
Panta rhei vials
Isles of colored sands
No shadow on my sun dial
Crawling out my skin
Out my ends, I’m morphing
Listen to the hiss off my lips, I’m morphing
Jaded divinations
Desecrated chants
Sated pact
unfettered
Stench of gas on my hands
Mountains scrape the aether
Identifier, unbeliever
Ascetic institution
My cage degraded in solution
Narcissistic revolution
Illusion of my sanity
Nothing sacred minus my modus
Drunken monolith
In tune, in tandem
Crawling out my skin
Out my ends, I’m morphing
Listen to the hiss off my lips, I’m morphing
Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 6:43 AM UTC
The mind can be a powerful tool
One used for the good
As it can be turned evil
Like a Vader syndrome
We can become compelled
To do the wrong thing
For the right reasons
Because when faced with love
No decision can be easy
...
It takes work
...
And risk to trust another
With your darkest weaknesses
As well as your brightest
Divinations
Which can yield foresight
Into a future dimmer,
In contrast,
Than the slightly lighter road
That can lead you down a path
Of happiness for those
To whom which all burdens
Are shared
Leaving but one option
To which only the night
Can see
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
Dark forest of Tao . . .
Black boughs under evergreen,
. . . Raven wings in wood.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 7:21 PM UTC
Time burns steadily on -
Sage, cedar, sandalwood.
A resource infinite,
But not nearly so,
when all beginnings
must have endings,
and we are each allotted
but one bundle to burn through.
How long have we been here?
Two notches on the incense clock.
Smoke rising and swirling,
evocative divinations
of all things,
future and past.
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 3:02 AM UTC
Reborn into the Aether
After chaos revelations
Quintessential elevations
For the demi-god ascendancies
Transcending divinations
Of Olympic heights
Titanic mights
And Uranus castrations
Spawning Erinyes of fury
In my spartan fights
And Cretan flights
Escaping wings of Icarus
When Helios ignites
Within me, Gaia's chosen sun
Aphrodite is my lover
By her oceans overcome
With a beauty Hellenistic
Making lions of a man
Though Charybdis stirs beneath her
I still sink into the sand
Of her blissful Themiscyran shores
Elysian Fields I've seen
At the end of Trojan wars
Through Iliads and Odysseys
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 12:38 AM UTC
Modern:
O bards, beget your wisdom, tell it pure
My appetite for it is wild, wants more
What divinations have thee pray to tell
With artful voice your message you tell well
The truth of other worlds you sweet convey
And to the law of Peace you do obey
The knowledge of God is yours, the mysteries
That transcend both time and history
Ancient:
O friend of modern age, of your request
To beget the knowledge with which I am blessed
I open up my arms, welcome you in
To honour thee I happy, joyful sing
The democracy of knowledge beckons me
To share the truth of all I sense and see
I hope the truth regales you, feeds thy mind
Superior truth is Love, activity refined
Modern:
O friend, I thank thee for thy correspondence
And note your song has Love flow in its cadence
We need your wisdom in the modern age
A time when lies of shill outnumber sage
Nature stands attacked, her knowledge ******
Exactly as the monarchs have cruel planned
The trees must speak to impoverished modern ears
O tell me all the wisdom of your years
Ancient:
The trees salute your wisdom, as do I
In Nature we may find a superior sky
The monarchs? They be but exalted fools
You would do well to disobey their rules
The true lord is Ganesh, his love is sure
That cherub irresistible to adore
I tell thee, be devoted to his form
And of illusions your vision shall be shorn
Modern:
When present times be cold and dark as these
And trouble be as fathoms deep as seas
We could do with the wisdom of Ganesh
But from his truth the modern folk digress
They seek for glory in material things
They see an angel and, ignorant, clip his wings
It makes a sage remorseful, these cruel times
O friend, write back, with your superior rhymes
Ancient:
The modern folk, you're right, are led astray
By status, wealth, I share that pain, dismay
But redemption is a possibility
If souls will to think and eyes to see
Our bond with universe is there, remains
When nourished, God's wisdom rains
I end this message with a soft salute
May knowledge bless your heart, take root
Sep 8, 2020
Sep 8, 2020 at 4:43 PM UTC
I put on a new pair of shoes
In a familiar way
Tongue and soul
Untied shoe-laces
And walked to the nearest mystic
The mere thought of my dearest divinations
Being bought
Surrealist encantations
I took a familiar step
And look down again
To remind why its all the same
Yet somehow different.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 12:55 AM UTC
I hail thee in sweet salutations
That serenade thy soul
Fathom you in divinations
That conjure and enthrall
Through medium of Music
Your mesmerising Beauty sings
Like a bonny Rainbow
An infinity in rings
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 10:36 PM UTC
My dear, erudite fellow…!
Schemed and skilled in academic prowess
Celebrated at your time as accomplished
At your season you were adhered and revered
Extol in your adorn ceremonial gown and cap
That Season are memories well celebrated and spoken of
But seasons come, seasons go!
Old seasons heralds’ new seasons
And yet new season another season
Seasons come in succession and progression
One birthing another, for yet another
And another like in circles
No! not circles of rounds but pyramids of circles
Changing hypotheses Progressing humanity;
Nomenclatures of human existence needing no divinations.
However, Human perversions; greed, pride, and more….
Configurations that have nibbled nature and time scheduled blessings:
A beautiful life, charming nature, a gift scuttled by vein makeups.
Make-ups that changes originality and mars the truth!
Sir, your celebrated research and findings were great yesterday
Beautiful yesterday was history for great tomorrow to cope.
Oh! Beautiful yesterday, salty today not fit tomorrow
The irony of seasons gift of nature but welcomed
Welcomed like the plantains stems that plans its maturity and gives way.
Do we say more?
Of the pumpkins that spreads its hands and tips, anchor its support to grow and births great seeds to replace itself
For posterity is in the replication of self in truth and character:
The excellence of continued originality in human search and psyche
This is the Hallmark of Academic definitions and redefinitions.
Societal evolutions pass on from age to age, from generation to generation.
Wither re’ you’ sir?
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Deep seethed question you only can answer.
But you ought to know this…...!
The ground is not strong enough to stop sprouting young seeds.
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 8:36 AM UTC