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Funny how Someone can
Asunder a heart of thine
And thou still dost adore them
With all thy riven smithereens

My love, please come to me,
In my life thou dost linger
A love from my sweet past
That beamed than many a star

My love, long have I endured
A heart sundered by love
Though wherever  I wander
Thy sweet love I still dost crave.

Oh my love, come back to me
So we may pick these riven pieces
That like sea waters scattered be
And I'll smoother thee with kisses

Together we'll never sunder
For my love will be thy love
Beaming so bright forevermore
As thy  love will be my love

Blissfully we'll dwell ever after
Like twinkling stars in galaxies
With our enchanted passion
Effulgently lingering in perpetuity.
#Love #Stars #galaxies #infinite love
Alyssa Underwood Apr 2016
From depths of woe I raise to Thee
The voice of lamentation;
Lord, turn a gracious ear to me
And hear my supplication;
If Thou iniquities dost mark,
Our secret sins and misdeeds dark,
O who shall stand before Thee?

To wash away the crimson stain,
Grace, grace alone availeth;
Our works, alas! are all in vain;
In much the best life faileth:
No man can glory in Thy sight,
All must alike confess Thy might,
And live alone by mercy.

Therefore my trust is in the Lord,
And not in mine own merit;
On Him my soul shall rest, His Word
Upholds my fainting spirit:
His promised mercy is my fort,
My comfort, and my sweet support;
I wait for it with patience.

What though I wait the livelong night,
And till the dawn appeareth,
My heart still trusteth in His might;
It doubteth not nor feareth:
Do thus, O ye of Israel’s seed,
Ye of the Spirit born indeed;
And wait till God appeareth.

Though great our sins and sore our woes,
His grace much more aboundeth;
His helping love no limit knows,
Our utmost need it soundeth.
Our Shepherd good and true is He,
Who will at last His Israel free.
From all their sin and sorrow.

                           ~ Martin Luther (1483-1546)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1aVWBSmghAs
Dark
In here
In my world
Ever since you
Slipped out of my sight
Out there in the
Distance, away
With thy
Light

Light
That shone
Bright to my
Wild blue yonder
Like rays of sunshine
Parting glowing
Clouds on a
Sweltering
Day

Light
Which I
Will always
Crave perdurably
Whilst incandescent
Stars seldom dost
Shine athwart
The night
Skies.
(A Series Of Ninette)

A ninette poem is a poem made up of nine lines, each increasing in one syllable, then at the mid point, decreasing again. The first and last word may be the same, antonyms or synonyms.

Its structure is 123454321 syllable format
L B Dec 2017
A beer can, phone book, a grapefruit
and an Advent wreath
with four candles
in its nest of greens
Two weeks
Two lit
Third one's the Pink
a life three quarters spent?

Next weekend
Saturday-- The Sabbath
falls in Hanukkah

“Blessed art thou, Lord our God
King of the universe
who dost create lights of fire...”

I'll light that third-- the pink one
like a barbarian wise woman
who traveled too far along life's way
to find a Jewish baby, wrapped in rags

...or, was it the old guy that night
lying in the street
outside a New England bar

“Oh Christ! Ya gotta be kidding me!”

Nope, He was there alright

Wallowing in the freezing slush
amid his helpless drunken cries
No cell phones then
Scrapped my pizza plans

On foot alone
waving in frustration  
in the passing headlights
a turquoise, wind-crazed scarecrow
_

“Someone's gotta stop?
Someone has to help us, don't they?”
_

Now there are two beer cans
a grapefruit, and a phone book
beside the advent wreath

Third candle lit and leaning out
for hope along the way
In memory of--
Louise McDermott, my daughter's godmother who gave us the Advent wreath.
and Joannie Handleman, my best buddy in music and crime who taught me her family's traditions  and Yiddish expressions.
Yog sey milte hai yaar ,dost
Jo yuggo tak hummey yaad rehte hai,
Hum toh yuhi zindagi mey zulajte rehte aur koshish jaari rehte,
Agar tum naa hote !
Agar tum naa hote .

©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
Some friendships are special ..Penned this on a friends birthday on 10.2.2019# sums up to "friends are a vital part of your life "
My Darling's eyes:
Embers of molten gold,
An ocean of stars nigh,
Mine eyes dost behold.

My Darling's eyes:
A pulchritude cauldron
Akin to the skie's lanterns
Yet are but of chalcedony.

My Darling's eyes:
To be on the mark
Are but diamond dunes
If not a fountain of sparks!

My Darling's eyes:
Effulgent stars in a cluster
Swaddling velvet night skies
With celestial shore luster.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros
20th September 2016
#Be on the mark is an idiom that refers to be accurate or correct.
Doubt thou the Earth doth spin,
Doubt the skies not to be Heaven's chin.

Doubt that Heaven's green and gold,
Her pulchritude is a fairytale told.

Doubt thou we'll meet the Lord,
At the other side of life's road.

Doubt that in Heaven's pleasant glade,
Life shall dare never to ever fade.

Doubt thou the sight before thy eyes,
Infinite not to be the coyly sinking skies.

Doubt that a pulchritudenous flower,
Akin to any other flower loses her allure.

Doubt thou Hell ain't a woeful grave
But never doubt thy love I dost crave.


©Kikodinho Alexandros
Jumeira, Dubai
28th January 2017
Tempus Fugit:

Nought is eternal,
Nox is ephemeral,
And
The Charred Canvas
Of
The Night Sky
(Noctis Lucis Caelum,
Scala Ad Caelum)
Bedarkened & besmirched, bespeaks
A
Love-Worn Wayward, Wayworn.

In the
Citadel
Of mine
Temporal Heart
Time
Streams infinitely
As an
Exhalation of The Ethereal One.


The Chronology of
The Arbiter of Fates
Shalt Destine,
Herald Eternitas
Upon
The Phantasmagoric Horizon
Of
Mine Mind's Sky
Wondering
Upon
Days of Yore.

(The Hither,
The Thither,
And
The Morrow.)

These
Luminescent Children are
Are born
To wax Luminaries
Then,
Wax Nebulous
For all eternity.

O, Metempsychosis;
Born of
Edicts Unseen,
Of that
Which was,
Is,
&
Will Be.

(For
All things
Are
Circular & Cycling,
Existentially.)

We were conceived
Infinitely
To
Infinity
And beyond.

Let He, Let She
Whose
Ears & Eyes
Of
The Unuttered Anima
Be unstopped, unfurled
To resonations:

Deep within.
The Emerald Lifestream Anew
Dost begin.

The Sovereign of Songbirds sings
Esprit d' amour
To those who wait.

(Se' Lah.)
Cosmic Reverberations
from
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love,

The Communal Oneness
Tethering
The Denizens
Of
The Macrocosm

&

May You All
Effloresce
In the
Aeonic Light
of
The Empyrean One.

~Excelsior Forevermore~

-Sanders Maurice Foulke III-
‘Twas many moons ago in fled days of yore,
In a distant realm of a golden shore,
When there dwelt a maiden of golden hair,
The last fairest by the name of Lenore.

The sweetness of her mellifluous voice,
Like only Angels of high heaven can make;
The beaminess of her impeccable face,
Reflections of a dawn sun-kissed lake.

Once by a golden noontide, so they say,
Perfectly salubrious was the day,
Fairly enriched by heaven's fairest ray
That Lenore chose to potter by the bay.

She marveled at so wide a limpid sea,
That was a vast luminous blue millpond,
Whispering mellifluous lullabies
Like of Angels upon heaven's compound.

“O sea, thou art lovely like a sweet dream,”
Quoth Lenore, “In thy waters I must swim.”
Hence as quick as a plummeting sunbeam,
In waters jumped the little seraphim.

Frosted in sheer elation she galloped
Upon the crest of so gentle a wave,
But every sea creature lifted its head,
Whilst doleful as marigold by a grave,

And in faint whispers didst bid her adieu,
"Farewell Lenore," till she was out of view,
Away where mortals of yore never knew,
Away where none canst ever have a clue.

In a while, the sun had shone her last ray
And solitary stars were beaming bright
Upon heaven's timelessly stonking bay,
But she still alone In the dead of night.

By luck, on yonder was a galleon
Of a sundeck decked with bright neon,
Her glossy sails as if from diamond hewn,
With words golden blazoned upon her stern:

Come thou little maiden, come thou aboard,
But little did innocent Lenore know,
At the back words in clear ruby-red read:
“To the kingdom of eternal sorrow.”

Not so long faded the night, dawn was nigh,
Heaven's molten gold began oozing by,
Whilst silvery clouds waltzed athwart the sky,
That Lenore's eyes slavered with ecstasy.

But then, there came a dog in the manger,
A hateful wave assailed the galleon
And heavens raged with roaring thunder
That echoed louder than the hungriest lion.

Tossing her where the sea kisses the skies,
Hence now but a speck on the horizons,
And there she galloped by and by downwards
Till wrecked upon shadowy blue islands

That bore words by the shores: “Little maiden,
Welcome thou to the kingdom of Nineva,
Where mortals shalt see thee never again,
For here you'll dwell forever and ever.”

This sent poor Lenore reeling far in mind
That with cinder-like eyes stumbled behind
But her galleon she could hardly find
For it had long vanished into the wind.

But hark! Yonder woods sprang a companion,
A lad whose names were Edgar Alan Poe;
Bestrode upon a snowy fair stallion
Who unto her whispered softly and low:

“If the moon be fair, then thy skin fairer,
If the stars be bright, then thine eyes brighter,
If snow be white, then thy lip’s gems whiter,
If the sun be hot, then thy hair hotter,

Then tell me, what bringeth thou to Nineva,
A realm of eternal sorrow and fear,
Where no mortal hath escaped ever,
But ever doomed in dungeons of despair?”

Despite her visage was lugubrious,
Her worries were all now but fugacious,
That yonder fair floral woods susurrous
Galloped whilst trees sang in tunes mellifluous.

For Edgar’s words of kindness had soothed her
Now doth she beam with ethereal luster
Like of night lanterns upon heavens shore
Scintillating in a wondrous cluster.

Alas! strange and covetous myriad eyes
By yon brier coveted the beauty queen
That as passes a fiend in the night skies
Did spy upon her with eyes all unseen

'Tis then when Edgar was away hunting
Whilst the beauty queen was all alone singing
When those dreamy figures came whispering
Amongst each other whilst wildly smiling.

Bestrode upon many a snowy fair horse,
Their strange faces, as pale as death her self.
Their voices, as if thousand snakes didst hiss,
Betwixt them, there lordly sprang an elf

Who unto her said, "how sweet thou dost sing,
Thy melodious voice would so please our king,
Unto thee, rubies and pearls shalt he bring,
Of banished gold shalt be thy nuptial ring."

"Nay", softly replied the little maiden,
To thy king I canst not walk down the isle,
For in violent love I'm with a swain,
Thy king's treasures outweigh not his smile.

"Wretch", why dost thou abhor our proposal?
For soon thou art to regret having done so,
So cried the elf, "opting for a mortal
Than a mighty king who is immortal"?

"Hark! Fair moon, see that morrow by noontide
Thou art by the edge of yon verdant moor,
For then thou shalt come with us yonder side
Neath the sea, and dwell with us evermore."

At this, a wild wind danced by many a leaf
And so vanished the strange troop of the elf
That she busted with a sigh of relief
Though deep within, her soul kindled with grief.

Not long, news sprinkled into the swain's ear
Who gathered a troop of a thousand men
Each bearing a bow, a hummer and spear,
All ready to guard the beauty queen.

When came morrow, they took little Lenore
And laid her beneath a lone sycamore
That stood by the edge of a lonely moor,
And then all matched towards the shingly shore.

No army led by any hostile king
Towards them could ever come any near.
There job was great that they did chant and sing
Songs of triumph of the fled days of yore.

Alas! To match towards the sycamore,
There pale and cold laid innocent Lenore
With not any single bone of poor her
Broken, but her breath taken evermore.

Mute, forlon, and motionless stood the swain
With bitter tears galloping from his eye,
With his soul 'neath a sepulchre of pain
That from yon day on, the realm he did curse.

For in Nineva, a realm dim and deep,
There not a mean ray of light canst now creep,
And there all creatures night and day dost weep
Till sweet Lenore wakes from eternal sleep.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros, Kampala, Uganda. 16th.July.2018.

#tale #adventure #fantasy #Lenore #EdgarAlanPoe #Nineva
"Nineva" is a magical kingdom in "Kikos's Legendarium"...a miscellany of tales of mystery and maccabre like you've never heard of. Tales such as: The Enchanted Gold, The Dwarf Of Nineva, Woods Have Eyes, Jazabel The Witch, The Novelty Tea ***, The Witch's Cauldron, The Lonely Hut, The Nectar Stream, among so many others.
And this tale is as well one of a grand scene in an adventurous movie script im penning.

#Each line in decasyllables
#Lenore is a name of a maiden I borrowed from Edgar Alan Poe's tales of mystery.
Hannah Marr Jun 2018
my fair infant-highness,
thine ebony skin of dusky twilight,
thy gold-flecked smoke-shrouded eyes,
bring me such joy as cannot be described

my sweet young prince,
dost thou comprehend the lengths of my care?
is thy failing health truly the last of thee i will see?
wouldst thou allow thy alluring laugh to fade as thy breath?

my serene little princeling,
what shall i do to return thee to my arms?
three days and an hour thou hast survived this cursed health,
what is even another minute that i might see thee again?

my beloved royal
the mere thought of thine own existence brings me peace
but following on its heels is the fear of thy passing
how hast thine eyes already gripped my soul so?

my tranquil blood-kin,
thou didst not cry once, not even at thy birth
thine eyes rested on mine sedately
thy smile, charmingly dimpled, was tender

light of my heart
why must my spirit cry out to thee
even as thy pulse stills
and thy tiny chest cease rising?

h.f.m
Jamie L Cantore Sep 2018
Allow it in -aye, 'till when?
All at such cost, none are lost
Lo! then, what is foretold men,
Fiery talks or the coldest frost,
And breath & word alike swept
Away again, swept away in vain
A breadth as wide as death, except
We sustain all humanity, the refrain;
Yet forlorn we are in an age torn -
Such a number high of tongues cry
For mourn dost they must the morn,
Nary a ryhme of these words be lie.
The world can sever, and whosoever
Is taught to pass or stay brave & fast
Shall be learnéd & it prove no effort
If it be times as is the last that's cast.
Victory is what the sword can afford
Yet a poets pen can lord their sword.
Bohemian Feb 15
Dost thee care for it which belongest not to you ?
Dost thee care for them who walk on wreckage as thou didst?
Why are the words misconstrued?
Why is the truth hard to you?
Ever that thou sowest
When yieldest the possibility of lowest
Measure thine life's circumference
Since thou revolvest most near the dark
Often it be the most absorbed
How thou mess with a mere sector
Yet the most of it collapsest
Sweating in the smoke to keep going
It requirest lest of a hope
Thee who dost not hear the screams
Cannot hear the sayings
Those qualms pushing to help that which benefits us nothing
To care for those who're going through that which we once nagged about
Those push and pulls could be the way to acumen
Brynn S Nov 2018
The written worlds of the mad ones
Those who have not learned to fly for all their wings have not sprouted
I chased those clear wholesome night and ended them with bleak sorrow
Grip my wrists and show me goodness for I fear I may never learn the souls
Tell me in whispers those memories of before, the ones that were not yet tainted by lust or grief
Tomorrow holds not promise but heartache, I fear I have fallen deep into caverns
Lost and unchecked they pushed me farther down, my eyes dost weep yet there is no sound
I’m worried, I cannot grasp this reality you’ve placed me in. Everything feels new and I might never see the end
Heal my heartache with physical pleasures, if left alone I will fall into gluttony
Let me not be alone I will become lost
There castles fair as a moon of June
Despite denizens 'neath a pit of despair
Like a night lit not by stars or moon.
Sweet is the silent whispers of a zephyr
When falls dew at the peep of dawn
Upon meadow boughs of emerald fair.

When heaven's ever fair golden eye
Doth sprinkle her very last fiery ray
To pave way unto maidens of the sky
That evermore bedeck heaven's bay,
In woods strange lonely things dost cry
In lament of the sweet melted olden day

Now 'neath the vale of time: In fairyland,
Where days once colorful and bright,
Where novelty gems bedeck each strand,
Where lofty towers shine than star light,
There naught remains that doth stand
And there dawns never but endless night.


Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
      Los Angels, California.
             20th/09/2018
#Fairyland #Tales Of Nineva #Imaginations
Funny how someone can
Sunder a heart of thine
And thou still dost adore them
With all thy riven smithereens!

My love, please come to me,
In my life thou dost linger;
Like as salt of a briny sea
Or like as the star's luster.

So long have I endured
A heart sundered by love
Though wherever  I wander
Thy sweet love I dost crave.

Oh! My love, come back to me
So we may pick these riven pieces
That like sea waters scattered be
And I'll shower thee with kisses.

Nevermore shall we ever sunder
For my love will be thy love
Sparking like heaven's thunder,
As thy  love will be my love.

Blissfully we'll dwell ever after
Like twinkling stars of the galaxy
With our enchanted passion
Effulgently lingering in perpetuity.



Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angeles, California.
11/19/2018.
Unto she who will never read it.

#Love
#Nostalgia
#Infinite Love
#Galaxy
#Stars

A modified version of one of my older poem penned in the wee hours of a dead July of 2015.
Incendiary asperity:
The world's existentiality
Agony, the Merciless & Mercenary
Scourging me entirely.

The Angst of the Aeons
Are the pedigree, the genealogy, the history borne to emancipate Me as a Vessel of Sanctity
For the valiant souls
Are the souls of transcendence, who revere in remembrance
The Amour of the Yore

My Vestibule Heart
Expands, contracts, being consecrated demands just as
Starry-Wombed the Cosmos, we
Must grow, burgeon through our learning & yearning, deserving & pining for the Promise of Morrow
For we were not formed
To wallow in sorrow.

As I gaze to the heavens
O, ***** and Gomorrah I remember
The Wife of Lot looks back forever: emblazoned as a Petrified December,
Then Fire & Sulphur descended, mankind nearly ended;
What is the lesson?
Of faith we are descendants.

Why do you
Roil my ravaged and brutally savaged soul?
Must bitterness be the wage for days spent having prayed
On my knees, for armistice, by The Empyrean One’s decree?

Though I have fallen,
I shall rise up
For the Fate’s Auric Visage radiates light upon the leaven,
Dost ferment the flesh dominating mine spirit.
Hearkening to
The susurrus of the Sovereign of Songbird’s Sacrosanct Love.

Let the Ethereal Tides of Time
Bathe me in baptismal & divine tribulation, trial
For a writhing while,
Sacrality is a war,
The Primal Instinct’s Immemorial Diminuendo.

Where has fake paradise of the Sylvan Shine
Those forested, emerald Eyes
That glisten in mine dreams gone?
Your visage twas my divine.

Though I am forlorn,
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love hath sworn
To the Days of Yore
That I shall soar once more.

To my Enfettered Soul,
Excelsior.
An acoustic sonority that reverberates upon the premise of rhyme. This piece was created with an objective akin to freestyle spoken-word: profundite in conjunction with resounding musicality. Tis my hope that you not only enjoy the occipital as well as temporal titillation begotten.

God Bless,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III
Mykle Matwaya Jan 24
Inspire in,
or inspired not.
While God dost hide the master plot.
The best of plans,
of yet to be-
Be careful what you ask to see.
Inspirations such a lovely thing,
from one source do such things reach me.
Or you,
or I,
or us we three-
our heart's respond tranquility.
Too much obeyed from outer places,
florescent light's on empty faces.
So little are we truly taught,
we think we know, but we know not.
Lost inside another's plan,
some nobody, a mortal man-
has thought it best the lives we lead,
we school, we study, while heaven pleads:
"Remember from once & whence you came,
your there for now to come again.
One must not lose the way back home,
your path leads you to die alone.
Our path is one as clear as day,
but you wont look you turn away-
from heavens brilliant blinding light,
to devils dancing worlds delight!"
Fear of what you might not get,
will only lead to judgement's sweat.
Look outward and one never finds,
the inward hides the lord's divine.
Take moments just to close your eye's,
under the darkness, watchful eye's.
As angels hold their breath and wait.
to see the human heart fly straight.
inspiration has a light it's own,
it beckons to the the Kursi/Throne.
Reminds us when to use our knees.
and when to bow and when to plead.
And who to fear and what to say,
and how not is promised another day.
Tis my maker within me,
I'm not alone, we number three-
this other thing close enough to hear,
my devil whispering in my ear.

Immovable-
Shabnam Jun 20
Kisi ki wafa ko karobar na samjho..
Begarz ** kar kare jo yaad aisay yaar ko bekar na samjho..
Na kar sake jo inkaar use izhaar na samjho..
kisi ki khamoshi ko deewar na samjho..
Betakalluf hokar jo kare baat..
Aisay dost ko hoshiyar na samjho.
Don't take for granted!
Don't trade someone's faithfulness..
If someone remembers you selflessly,
Don't think them to be worthless;
If someone can't refuse, don't think it's a yes
Don't consider someone's silence to be a barrier;
Don't consider shrewd the friend who talks informally.
In days dead and burried in time,
In a very far away enchanted clime,
In the mighty kingdom of Nineva
Where there fairly shone forever,

There once was a strange lonely wood
That ever in fairest robes of green stood
By the edge of a fair shoreline of pearl,
Whose mystery none may tell nor unfurl.

For akin to the most effulgent yonder star
That forevermore scintillates from afar
In a splendiferous novelty golden cluster,
So thrice scintillated the gem's luster.

And 'tis for this that as we all truly know,
All mortals, I say, all mortals  of long ago
Gravitated from corners of distant lands
On the quest for riches by those strands.

Once, sweltering was the noontide
When upon a violent lonely rolling tide
A bunch of desperate pirates were seen
Nearing that wood of emerald sheen.

In a while, they'd gathered all they could,
Leaving not a single gem in the wood.
Alas! A wind murmured upon the skies
In faint whispers: "Woods have eyes"

So muttered all birds - all birds of the air,
All creatures in caverns desolate yet fair,
All leaves upon strange shadowy trees,
And all - all creatures of wild lonely seas.

But, despite the looming dark omen,
Swifter than plummeting drops of rain,
So hastily dashed every single pirate
Blindingly minding not about their fate.

They raised their silvery sails to take sail
But hark! All this - all this was to no avail;
For upon the skies no wind was seen
To render them across so wide a sea.

In a jiffy, louder than birds of the skies
All gems whispered, "Woods have eyes."
From that moment on, all lost their sight,
Doomed never to behold the sun's light.

And now, upon those murky restless seas
They dost weep but no plea can please,
For they were doomed to rove evermore
In search of their long forgotten shore.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros, Kampala, Uganda. 29th.July.2018.
#Tales of Nineva #fantasy #adventure

Nineva is a magical kingdom in Kiko's legendarium - A miscellany of tales of mystery and maccabre like you've never heard of. Tales like, "The Dwarf Of Nineva, The Nectar Stream, Jazabel The Witch, The Novelty Tea ***, The Witch's Cauldron, The Enchanted Gold, The Mystery Of Lenore, among so many others.

Thanks for reading.
In Nineva, in melted days of yore,
In a very distant verdant realm
Of a shadowy enchanted Moor,
There rolled a nectar stream.

And whoever ever drunk from it
Whilst the sun rained her golden light,
Craved nevermore to drink nor eat
But perpetually dwelt in delight.

Once, upon her banks strolled a couple
Majestically holding each other's hand.
Golden robbed with plush ribbons purple,
All the way from a very far away land

Where dwelleth many a mandrill,
A realm of many a precious stone
And many a verdant rolling hill,
Though creatures there all but forlorn.

King and queen of Merindrill they were,
On a golden quest for perpetual youth
Akin to the luster of many a fiery star
Whose mystery none knows the truth.

Though the stream galloped in gladness,
Though meadow larks chirped in ecstasy,
A roving wind eerily rustled in sadness
As it danced about aspen leaves all sassy.

All birds of evil omen graced the heaven
Whilst darkling clouds blotted heavens' bed
But unto none did it seem a bad omen.
Dyadic ravens perched upon their head.

"Quaff, quaff, oh quaff not from the river,"
Unto the king quoth the first raven.
"In that river deep thou shalt dwell forever,"
Unto the queen quoth the second raven.

"Quaff, quaff, oh quaff not," they didst spoof
At the ravens whilst as quick as drops of rain
Plummeting from earths' eternal dewy roof,
In such haste, they quaffed again, and again.

And 'tis for that reason that all men know
From the ***** of that sweet rollin' river
Did the fanciful couple now as cold as snow
Ever leave, but there dost live forever.



©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angeles, California, USA.
06/Nov/2018.
#Tales Of Nineva  #Fantasy #Adventure

#Merindrill is a realm of darkling woods far away from from the mighty land of Nineva.

Nineva is a magical kingdom in Kiko's legendarium - a miscellany of tales of mystery and macabre like you've never heard of. Tales such as, "The Mystery Of Lenore," "Woods Have Eyes," "The Dwarf Of Nineva," The Novelty Tea ***," "The Witch's Cauldron," "Jazabel The Witch," "The mandrill of Merindrill," among so many others yet to be posted here.
Maya Oct 2018
Rue thy feeble fate.
Fear the day when thine own eyes
Fail to see beyond thy hand.
Requiem for the rest-easies such as Thyself shall not come as welcome
Praise, but as fire and brimstone,
Blood from the grimy grindstones of
The weary working, ready to rise
And crush all unworthy opposition
With their hilts of red-hot rage,
Raising swords of liberty to the heavens and cutting down the opression that has stilted their air.

Weep for this is thy fate:
Thy death means justice for those who Have been defeated countless times,
Under a blooming, burning sky defeats Pile up like stars, simmering, waiting to Become supernovas and take every puny Universe down in their own glorious Descent, like
Icarus to the sun, a sweeter fall could not Exist on this lonely planet,
Into the unforgiving waters of victory.

Justice for those angry folk who by merit Have earned their own place, not by Some system that hands it to them, but By grit and toil alone,
By the fierce madness that is
Existing and not completely
Giving in to the ruin of being human, Following the words that
A wiser man than I spoke, that life is Struggle, that the only constant in this Life is the pain that all of us try to ignore In the futile attempt to block out the Tragedies that haunt us daily.

Face thy fears, coward.
Thou miserable wretch can't look thyself In the mirror, but can claim that we as a Species have hope for peace on Earth and Goodwill for all.
What dost thou know of goodwill? When didst thou give a single moment of thought to the happiness of anyone but thyself and thine selfish  avaricious interests?
Thou shan't claim to know what is holy and just, yet scourge the very pious people that thou imitates; thou shan't slaughter the devout on a temple whose bricks are molded from hypocrisy and deceit.

Rue thy feeble fate,
Because thou deserveth every blow, every cry of mockery, every disgusted eye and every hideous pitiful moan that thy gravestone will inspire, and even Dante himself could not have imagined the flaming of the hellish unredeeming pyre that will be thy afterlife;
rue thy fate for no morals, no intercessions, no pleas or entreaties to be spared from the filth and maggotry that thou hast built thy very house upon canst save thee now.
please correct me if my grammar is wrong, dramatic effect called for dramatic language, and modern tongue has lost the drama that is thine, thee, thou, etc.
Left for dead Oct 2018
Mine eyes are full to the brim with celestial fire,
Mankind throws me off into the dust and mire,
anger and frustration is buried below,
no man shall ever know.

When the days are short and I stand afar,
then I know of the darkest hours,
I am not  of this world,
a truly transcended being.

The day of ascension is to come,
the day when I shall call it home,
when mine enemies dost laugh,

I shall be ever know.
The Transcended human experience.
#ascension # spiritual #home # transcendant
Subhah nahi Dekhi
Shaam nahi dekhi
Isi haal e Shaan me dost
Zindagi nahi dekhi
...
Phir nazane kyu jee Raha hai Dil
Anjaan raho me bhatak Raha hai phir
Haal e Dil
Haal e Dil
...
Paul NP Aug 2
My epiphanous sword is a fan. It's fanning slash is slush. It cools the breath and saves the rushed from heaven's devilish dust.

The icey wand of the native land is cold and distant, it plays with persistence. When the snow dost rush , thy sword, it's crush; glazes the beast and the insect.

Icey blue, I'm next to you, I live for the futures past. Distant blue I'm fresh and new, cultivating from blood and ash.

Blue blood, sworn to trust, empathy rests in you. My beautiful blue, old and new, my ***** blocks your beautitude.
Rest your chest on this stratus, empty casket, doth thou practice?
Change your hemisphere to the dear, symphonic iceolation. The human's hand, the human's gland, crystal occupation?
The devil in you is the coldest blue, who melts in the *** of desolation.
The God you are, he rests afar, looking into the moon.
He sees a star ever far, that reminds him of the truth in you. That star is Rigel, from which it's solar starvation hungers in the solar view of Angels.

Verilly I say unto you, dress thee attire with wicked sand, bless and blister your wicked hands and take apart the virtue that I giveth a part to your chest.
Your cold blue has a warmth in view and no handler may digress. Fortune favors the meek, and the heavenly solar week. Keep thy eyes shined and thy breath blue, let the surface comfort you, let the brother father the mother and account for the restless accrue. Noble men sanctify their right to dignify, so no longer shall you signify the choice of light and life. No name shall acclimate your virtue but the name given to you at birth. Let it be not afflicted by parallels and cross tangents, correlations or brass legged revelations. Let it not be known or unknown, empty or full, let it not shave the beautitude I ascribe to you.

Written on the wind in the solar plexus. Your body is not your dress. Your cloak is marigold and blue as I have designated to you out of the trust that you have given.
Take your wonder and your scepter, your sword and your nectar and reguile your sonic wounds you beautiful fool. No man shall touch or sway, preach or prey in the vicinity of your wondrous parry-less-ness.
Carabella Feb 5
She is no leader, nor follower, no judge, nor jury.
No hope that consumes nor burns bright the integrity of wilting moral.
She is not lustful, nor prideful, nor holy.
No devoted congregation praising blindly amongst rotting archaic ruins of paper.
She pulls another card, seeking clarification to each previous: holding it in her callused hands as if it were a precious gem; something of value and respect.
She breathes in deep, closing her eyes in careful consideration, and slowly she utters... "What message dost thou have for me today?"
Ferdaus Tahir Oct 2018
'twas the scorching sun shalt embrace
With civet's blossom, it continuate
Wherefore thee mysteriously banish?

For I betoken to mouse-hunt ye

Hast the orb of light oft shine
E'en it acknown of its despair
Nay! it guides us toward our lover

Drunkenly and wobbly walking toward thee

Dost the sun amercing us
Due to our misgiving of love
Nay! it amerce to those who've lost

Hence I really wished to return whence you came from

As thy body is away from me
My heart wast devastated
In your whimsical disappearance

I've became drunk for longing ye
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