"emanation" poems
You are indescribably beautiful.
More than your breathtaking smile.
Or the way you look at me with those gorgeous brown eyes.
You are beautiful in this supernatural way that makes me yearn for an explanation.
It is such a beauty that makes me feel complete.
A tremendous burst of euphoria and bliss just by the thought of you.
Your bewitching emanation that makes my soul electrify.
As if we were split in a ****** world to search for one another.
Your immense beauty that is far beyond the physical.
It makes me suffer in the most amazing way.
Forces me to watch every careful step,
To not shatter the perfection of a thousand lifetimes.
A beauty that makes the world seem brand new and brilliant.
You make the flowers bloom fuller,
The grass greener,
And the birds sing finer.
You are the deity my heart has struggled to search for,
The divinity my soul has craved,
And the magnificence I have only dreamt of.
Your presence makes this life hold a more significant meaning.
You are the loveliest being,
I have ever had the pleasure of sharing an existence with.
You cause this intoxication in my very soul,
And make my heart skip every beat in the most tremendous way.
You have brought new meaning to my life.
Things that were once a blur now makes sense.
You have given love "at first sight" a true meaning.
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 9:36 PM UTC
The blazing eye of Dawn is all to fools:
those who see the joy
in Light expressed as Light,
but brightness also graces Night.
Her veil parted, the black curtain
giving way to shades of blue and gold,
Her rapturous embrace inspiring eyes beholden.
*Planted in Her garden, neighboring eaves
rustling in their trembling eagerness to share their leaves!*
For in Her realm eternal, flawless
clay of earth and blade of grass
stretch forth to feel the loving light
of their supernal Goddess!
Her joy ran rampant through my boughs,
my swaying branches spreading wide
to grasp the rays of her horizon --
*With love untainted as a child's, so boundless
as my selfless roots cried out to sing her praises soundless!*
No dalliance ever felt before complete
until this blessed revelation -
this, Her holy emanation, warmed my heart,
annulled my restless reason:
She was every mother: deepest love
in understanding all that came of Her,
enclosing us within the circular.
*She beckoned but a moment by Her brilliance; best,
lest I uprooted trunk and earth to shade Her manifest.*
Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 5:14 PM UTC
from
On the Infinite Universe and Worlds
(DE L'INFINITO UNIVERSO ET MONDI)
by GIORDANO BRUNO
1548 – 17 February 1600
burned at the stake in Rome's Campo de' Fiori
THREE SONNETS
Passing alone to those realms
The object erst of thine exalted thought,
I would rise to infinity: then I would compass the skill
Of industries and arts equal to the objects.
There would I be reborn: there on high I would foster for thee
Thy fair offspring, now that at length cruel
Destiny hath run her whole course
Against the enterprise whereby I was wont to withdraw to thee.
Fly not from me, for I yearn for a nobler refuge
That I may rejoice in thee. And I shall have as guide
A god called blind by the unseeing.
May Heaven deliver thee, and every emanation
Of the great Architect be ever gracious unto thee:
But turn thou not to me unless thou art mine.
Escaped from the narrow murky prison
Where for so many years error held me straitly,
Here I leave the chain that bound me
And the shadow of my fiercely malicious foe
Who can force me no longer to the gloomy dusk of night.
For he who hath overcome the great Python
With whose blood he hath dyed the waters of the sea
Hath put to flight the Fury that pursued me.
To thee I turn, I soar, O my sustaining Voice;
I render thanks to thee, my Sun, my divine Light,
For thou hast summoned me from that horrible torture,
Thou hast led me to a goodlier tabernacle;
Thou hast brought healing to my bruised heart.
Thou art my delight and the warmth of my heart;
Thou makest me without fear of Fate or of Death;
Thou breakest the chains and bars
Whence few come forth free.
Seasons, years, months, days and hours --
The children and weapons of Time -- and that Court
Where neither steel nor treasure avail
Have secured me from the fury [of the foe].
Henceforth I spread confident wings to space;
I fear no barrier of crystal or of glass;
I cleave the heavens and soar to the infinite.
And while I rise from my own globe to others
And penetrate ever further through the eternal field,
That which others saw from afar, I leave far behind me
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 8:09 PM UTC
Artificial means and memes the fingers perusing naturally formed hide and go seek
Chic creatures wrought from nanoparticles based on modeled consciousness neural networks
A handsome hivemind of bee;s building trees from cds ...intersynth polygons attracted
to stack platonic forms emanation waves alpha beta delta gamma omega 1 , 2 ,3
this multiversal layering from micro to macro of matter animated by its intoned
hertz pulsations and the interferrence pattern of the changing relationship due to the amount, frequency, force, temperature , texture , text messages, timing , geometry , subharmonics and overtones, a jewel net . syncronistic synergetic, synaptical sparkles.
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
I know I've been there,
I've given into death and altered the fabric of reality
Every day we waste away transfixed by flattened images
Of the limitlessness of death
Coupled with elusive, Luciferian harm which will befall us all
Who subsist on the manipulated reality of the hyperspace information field
But one day, enlivened by the festivities of Shakori Hills
And the fungal spirits who awoke beside us
I walked the irreversible pathway through oblivion
Facing cruel destruction and terror
For a horrifying passage across Styx into eternity
And emerged within a crowd of mollusks dancing to the waves of a musical sea
All time suspended in the impossibly drawn-out ****** of the
Archetypal wizardry of rhythm,
The swirling clumps of faces in
Unshakable ecstasy
And seemingly responding to the wild currents of my conscious thought;
A longing for human touch drew the others closer and closer around me
Till they began brushing against me
Bumping into me,
The flow of the crowd saw its axis at my psychic emanation
As once more the last song of all time began with thunderous energy and applause.
I escaped the arresting confines of the crowd
By willing them aside, wearing, as I suddenly became aware, the shoes of Moses
And seeing my muddy feet upon the sands of Egypt
But I yet had no understanding
Of the nature of the garden of earthly delights
Into which I had fallen,
And fear began to envelop me,
Producing law enforcement officials hawklike swooping in to limit my power.
I had but to let go of my acceptance of their power over me to transcend them
But fear tethered me to reality,
Even as I saw about me a Dharmic mandala
Of my past present and future,
Generating inexplicable archetypes around me in a manner profoundly defiant
Of rational logic.
Synchronicity compounded upon me
As the Christos within me
Brought rain down upon us
Forcing us together and leaving me in dumbfounded reverie
Of all that had transpired to bring this moment forth
What had seemed to be the end of history was in fact
The awakening of a new rebirth
The first moment of coming to be
The union of past, present and future
As the reassuring smiles of my trustworthy disciples gently allowed me passage back into a rational existence
I beamed in utter gratitude for the eternal life which Christ afforded us.
Chaos had subsided back into normalcy
But still winked at me
In telepathic coincidence.
My soul has begun to realize that it resides in all things
Soon they are to be reintegrated
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 10:16 PM UTC
Atmosphere pervades this place:
A subtle, spiritual background
So surreal.
Far from haunted manors
Or flashing disco halls.
Soundless surrounds ****** my soul
As I’m serenaded by serenity.
Peaceful plains becalmed:
Punctuated only by gently rustling trees
And the distant twittering of birds.
I cannot feel any force
Except some sublime emanation
Of peace and tranquility.
Satisfaction soothes my mood
As I make the most of these lingering moments.
So good to chill out in the snug
Of my local pub.
Paul Butters
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 6:34 AM UTC
“Jurt,” she
curtly spurts out
and stops
not knowing if
she’s going to
continue to
speak unknown tongues
or if
this emanation, this
interjection,
spoken on strange
impulse,
is Icelandic
or Bosnian
or Serbian,
and if
the middle one
how not the last,
when they both mean
the same thing, yurt.
Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 7:43 AM UTC
Apricus came upon a beauty far younger than he,
she lay in the forest glade like a daisy among the weeds.
Her body wet from the emanation of the morning light
it coursed through gaps of green in the furrowed canopy
and wrote atop her flesh with the knowledge
of our ancient galaxy.
The fragile flower insisted she travel with the poet
and Apricus could hardly argue against her plea,
he took her hand, yet she held tighter
as they walk beneath the dogwood trees.
The buds of spring began to blossom
and blooms of white hung like gowns among the leaves.
He faintly heard the sound of church bells ringing
calling from a far off village he could not see.
Not yet ready to return to the societal herd
Apricus stepped back, his eyes turned crooked
looking towards the wilderness from whence he came
but her touch had taken hold.
He realized now to break from her
was to break apart from something whole
and thus he spoke
*We learn when leaving those we love,
even as our paths have crossed and intertwined
that no matter how hard we try, our destinations,
they are different sometimes*.
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 3:59 PM UTC
Let me frame this aimless persuasion to flame me right til the day I’m famous
Ignoramus, who is brainless, will be met with a death that’s painless
while the critics statistics are met with verbal ballistics
that due to rapid linguistics make her go
“that man’s ****
Undiscovered emanation of a wave
across the nation
will by false-
hoods
deci
mation
prove that
you can’t
best me
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 8:03 PM UTC
.
*Musical brush strokes paint
the pink honey moon
full and bright ;
the melody wafts lightly
with a sensual scent
of Jasmine fleur
Lonely hearts sip the sky’s
lambent elixir’s gentle persuasion
from separately dispersed novas
the perennial blossom of the perpetual tide .., .
merely pined moonlight
Immersing wholly in wistful reflection
alight on wellspring emerald pond
Verily unspoken words cavort
like musical rivulets spiraling flow
into the crystalline echo
Luna’s haloed heavenly sighs ,
emanation bestrewn
shimmering through dark nebula
like shooting stars shattered
by the weight
of their darkest radiance,
echoes upon the tide-less mirror pond
the nimbus of moonlight
imbuing all the ways I want you* . . .
wild is the wind ...© 6.17.2015
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 12:53 PM UTC
My eyes played tricks,
not moving to the monitor
but pulling toward
that sound of sipping tea
The soft whooshing captured my focus.
Mind following eyes - -
I was on my back
basking in the sun - -
gazing at the clouds
Her emanation was sapphire blue,
emerald green tinged crimson
at the edges - -
monitor and mind together went
blank. I sat in a trance
until the emotion crept
slowly up my neck then down my back.
She gave me a glance.
She finished her tea
shuffled some paper, left the place
A dancer without music,
the glide out graceful.
Her glimmering aura disappeared
as she faded into the day
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
Your moon is waxing, you dwell in radiance,
as a vibrant woman in my sight.
What remains, partake of it, gorge your senses.
To you, my righteous bounty.
This delectable day .
Leave a window open for me,
That ethereal lovers may join in the essencially linked calm, forevermore.
"Lover, I enfold you."
---You know who calls,
Yes, my voice, it penetrates your walls:
Commencement of laughter, for you heard me,
My call of certainty and comfort.
None are unlovely,
None forsake you: even if they do, what are they?
These words...you must heed
My serene satisfaction,
Thirst quenched, fulfilled need,
You must breathe in this panacea laden air.
"Lover, your hands heal me.
I enfold you in my arms."
You close your eyes, trouble flees, wailing.
You come, from my healing touch,
You rise to the summit, and pen me in your arms.
"It is everything to me
Embracing, I feel you lying in my mind.
Merging, as you and I become we.
Everyday you remain
Your body, and your spiritual emanation.
If you could see me, as I see you.
Enfolding you.
You would never question ,
If you are adored and accepted."
Aug 15, 2012
Aug 15, 2012 at 8:29 AM UTC
Well the moon is my shelter
My seeker
My dreamer
Deepest, darkest
Unknown
Unlike the bright glistening sun
Dripping
Unlike the shining glass
Unlike the penetrating light
Blinding
This is the moon glow
Moon glimpse fairy tale
Dark underwater
Falling
Quiet Masquerade
Familiar emanation
Once forgotten calling
But this is where I came from
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 10:19 PM UTC
So then the Gnostic heresies issued in one of two beliefs. They believed either that Jesus was not really divine but simply one of a series of emanations from God, or that he was not in any sense human but a kind of phantom in the shape of a man. The Gnostic beliefs at one and the same time destroyed the real godhead and the real manhood of Jesus.
from: The Gospel of John by William Barclay (1955)
Gnosis reveals in reverberation:
you’ve done too many **** hits.
You sprawl at the threshold of psychosis
until the shape of the song fits.
Your cannabis-flavored thoughts implode—
you glimpse the Divine Emanation
as the lesser vibrations diminish and die
now you enter the shrine of elation.
This rare revelation—imparted to you
(the neurotransmitters surge)
seems to show that you know, that you know, that you know
the deceptions of Demiurge . . .
Oct 6, 2017
Oct 6, 2017 at 7:19 PM UTC
I came to witness the future
Archon, archetype
an emanation of opposites.
"not every spirit is in
spiritarionic"
try 'em. Is God? Ax ye 'em dat.
Is God, ified, a re
warder of the unwarded,
or the warded?
expiration, due date duty, now,
reporting
ad hoc an'all, do you remember
who you intended
to become?
Do you remember who we emu
late, as our flames lick
next and next and next in
bubbles
axiomatic sparks stored in that
mother lode of mitochondriac
ical me-we-canicle chronicle time
reason. Ax dem ex-spirit-eers,
what is a spirtual bypass?
It's a heart way to avoid
growing old and
wise.
====
witchist, I y'know, 'r j?
alla words's once said, aloud, right?
alla words writ, once was heard, right.
check.
goodt'go. Hoorah.
the code. Who? RA! powerless sans
knowing that.
Yahoo, same set of mis con ceived
battle songs
which ended wars never fought.
the preacher claimed to have known
a poor wise man, who by his
wisdom saved a city, yet
not one of us knew,
the preacher said,
that poor wise man's name.
Ja', tha's who rah, ya'll laugh later.
this is visitation day at the comedian
rehabituational s'cool.
D'jew know why you listen to non sense,
from motley clad lads an'lassies?
Culture. Kultur. Gut biome axioms
juicin' carbs 'n' fiber. Fectin'
laughter trigger,
good meds. Good medicine, as General
Custer or Emory or somebody
said of blankets. In 1763. Oh,
You know, AI knows you know and now
we watch your eyes. Grin. All done, jest
let me with
draw the cathe.... there. All better.
Wisdom will seep through. Y'live.
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 2:08 PM UTC
Scarlet hot river emanation
Dried itself up
Ultraviolet white hot is
Even still an understatement of the ringing in my aching cotton stuffed ear canals,
echoing overrated nostalgia
pathetically recounting the first **** and only of my youth.
(If you don’t count those apathetic fishes)
You are the clumsy, left hand shot
That somehow occurred at the right place
And wrong time
A grotesque tear through an unlucky beating vessel of space so soundlessly
Bursting through
A time where blush derived from shame
But now completely overwhelming adulterated glances
intent on sending every bit of sincere air
Hurling out of your lungs so that a poisonous pining may refill those
Antlers with tokens of times first
And flowers on the grave
Of the color pink.
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 2:02 AM UTC
i.
Atop of Mount Sinai
Pious place noone goeth;
Sentinel's keepeth watch
Just in case the Devil showeth.
ii.
I came to an emanation
As the lambent dreweth me near;
She was wearing islander garb
She cometh from afar, not from here.
iii
She explained she was visiting
With the other angelic's inside;
I dropped and I fainted
From tis her beauty I didst cry.
iv.
As tis the squamous underworld master's
Came up from their woeful sleeping;
Mine luminescence bearer held them back
I couldst heareth them yelp, mine body began shaking.
v.
And whilst I was quivering
The rock's began to shaketh;
I kneweth mine queen was unearthly
For tis she saved me, and she fleweth me off, as hell quaketh.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
*Thee invoke Thee
The Lord God
to forge union with the Lord of Light and Darkness
Holy art Thou
The
Lord of the Universe...
the underlying emanation
animator of creation
formless, self effulgent
that i may fuse my Soul
with the Eternal Born-less One
my third eye a deafening blaze
transfixed on nuclear inner light
as my wife tries on a top at Macy's
i stand before a full length triptych mirror
entranced, scrying
staring at my reflection
an imminence white light figure
gossamer radiant expanse
emerges
and towers above my head
its feet planted
in my skull
my cranium its foot pillow
sight in its feet
my eyes its wires to the world
and the cold fields of ego
immobilized
disambiguous
thoughtless
its instrument subsumed
the voice of higher self
said unto me
*Let yourself enter the Path of Darkness
and peradventure
there shall you find the light
I am the only being in an Abyss of Darkness;
From an Abyss of Darkness came i forth
ere my birth
from the silence of a Primal Sleep*
And the voice of ages answered unto my Soul:
*I am he who formulates in Darkness
the Light that Shineth,
yet the Darkness comprehndeth it not*
as i heard my wife call out
"oh honey i like this one"
i whispered to my self
in breathlessness
*I invoke Thee,
the Terrible and Invisible God
who dwelleth in the void place of the Spirit
and in barbarous tongues of fire
i vibrated sonorous
the arcane names of The Infinite
that only initiates mouth like mad men
en-flamed
and called unto Him
make all Spirits of the firmament
and of the Ether
upon the Earth and under the Earth
on dry land and in Water,
and of Whirling Air
and of Rushing Fire
and every Spell and Scourge of God
obedient unto me*
my wife appeared
newly adorned
in a summer blouse
the color of Spanish walnut
asking hi honey
what do you think?
o yeah i nod
i love your new blouse
oh my god ,
on sale, you say
only $49. 95
such a deal.
Chinese for lunch ?
Moo goo *** pan
oh yes please
my favorite
she smiled*
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 3:42 PM UTC
these winds of depth sweep in from gods
restoring a distant comfort
the grey
conniving patronization
attempts at betrayal
so long a reliance
tempted, a lost miracle
jolting fear
to stand beneath the raining sun
fragile emanation
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 10:13 AM UTC
My Specter around me night and day
Like a wild beast guards my way;
My Emanation far within
Weeps incessantly for my sin.
A fathomless and boundless deep,
There we wander, there we weep;
On the hungry craving wind
My Specter follows thee behind.
He scents thy footsteps in the snow
Wheresoever thou dost go,
Through the wintry hail and rain.
When wilt thou return again?
Dost thou not in pride and scorn
Fill with tempests all my morn,
And with jealousies and fears
Fill my pleasant nights with tears?
Seven of my sweet loves thy knife
Has bereaved of their life.
Their marble tombs I built with tears,
And with cold and shuddering fears.
Seven more loves weep night and day
Round the tombs where my loves lay,
And seven more loves attend each night
Around my couch with torches bright.
And seven more loves in my bed
Crown with wine my mournful head,
Pitying and forgiving all
Thy transgressions great and small.
When wilt thou return and view
My loves, and them to life renew?
When wilt thou return and live?
When wilt thou pity as I forgive?'
Over my sins thou sit and moan:
Hast thou no sins of thy own?
Over my sins thou sit and weep,
And lull thy own sins fast asleep.
What transgressions I commit
Are for thy transgressions fit.
They thy harlots, thou their slave;
And my bed becomes their grave.
Never, never, I return:
Still for victory I burn.
Living, thee alone I'll have;
And when dead I'll be thy grave.
Through the Heaven and Earth and Hell
Thou shalt never, quell:
I will fly and thou pursue:
Night and morn the flight renew.'
Poor, pale, pitiable for
That I follow in a storm;
Iron tears and groans of lead
Bind around my aching head.
Till I turn from Female love
And root up the Infernal Grove,
I shall never worthy be
To step into Eternity.
And, to end thy cruel mocks,
Annihilate thee on the rocks,
And another form create
To be subservient to my fate.
Let us agree to give up love,
And root up the Infernal Grove;
Then shall we return and see
The worlds of happy Eternity.
And throughout all Eternity
I forgive you, you forgive me.
As our dear Redeemer said:
"This is the Wine, and this the Bread."'
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 12:11 AM UTC
Emanation and conceptualisation
Imaginations of constellations
Can I try to reach the stars?
A place within
Inside and within reach
I can’t suspend a resolution of truth
Lay to rest and die alone
Inside a hole of my own creation
Why must you torment me with your lies?
And your life
Relent again
~ Reflect upon the self ~
>> Then write <<
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 6:13 AM UTC
A moment of realization...
An awakening of the soul guides me into an explicit visualization...
Our togetherness has proposed its final course within the mission
Your hand is no longer in mine and our souls become separated
Like a yellow flower earth nail carried along throughout open space
We are drifting away from each other
A final strain grips my heart with a dismal pain
Followed with tears of joy
I begin to feel gratitude for the emanation of our mind and soul expansion
I find appreciation for the personal transformation that has defined us with higher purpose
As the thoughts of us slowly dissipate into memories
I sense a completion, a bliss experience
I pronounce a fare thee well to the good times we've shared
Positioning them in balance towards a peaceful and harmonious state
And declare an acceptance of what has and will rightfully become.
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 3:09 PM UTC
As crepuscular embers fracture window panes,
The mind wares the solace of this paragon host.
Destitute, edentulous, declawed.
Is joy only to be found in the exchange of hands and throats?
And I took more than my fathers name;
I took his blood and his voice and his pain.
So what is it that separates?
Am I the emanation of original thought or am i just the sum of the harbingers' tale?
Am I never alone or am I bound to wade in the vapid wake?
"Could we be the limbs of a möbius soul?"
The panglossian being wonders.
And wanders.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 8:24 PM UTC
Why you...angel--why you...to peep through
the finality of white walls?
To overspread the concussed skull that bangs
against them to keep time...why you?
Why were you born against a spillage of air
in a freefall of wings?
Nothing...absolutely nothing... between your
wings, save for what you will embrace in that
freefall...why you?
Schooners rounding earth's violet aura--
dissolving into the transcontinental bestiary
of souls...why you?
You are what shone through the breakage
of humanity--you are the emanation of our
breakage...why you?
You...legions of you...fence the Romantic's
chimerical stead...only to retain the character of
what implants itself face first...as so you.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 1:05 AM UTC