"eminence" poems
im a self describing a self
a face on a liquid surface
a plasticity
a brain
a three pound infinity
always remodeling itself
and making new copies
a copy
of
a copy
of
a copy
a massive accumulation of copies
each a slight distortion
from it's original eminence
a history of minute alterations
all subtle deceptions
my so-called reality
a memory
of
a memory
of
a memory
a repetition pouring the self out
self corrupting the self
until it is somebody else
a fibbing shifty double-dealing soft machine
trying to remain intact
it's signature
a disjunctured awareness
my cells talk **** about each other
i'm more microbes than human
every synaptic light of the divine casting a shadowed past
a devil to the true origin
a mangled remembering
my pillar of reality
spirit from matter
not the other way around
i no longer recognize myself
am i human
or perhaps a robot
an alien
a walk in
that left the original inhabitant
disembodied
to wander perplexed in a netherworld
lost and crying
or, just a bad copy
of
a copy
of
a copy
of
a co
py
of
a
a
co
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 2:46 PM UTC
Corpses proliferate in soaring violence; heirloom of franchise and eminence— perish in erosion.
Timid denizens of derision, cynicism in roaring silence — optimism’s paling vapor—commodity of Indecision, our halcyon days forgotten.
Chosen token of audacity; the onyx maladroit feigns, prevaricating beneath the Sacred canopy.
Etudes of apathy; attrition unlamented; streams of guile— quixotic squall conversely merge — veiled conceit, eloquent arrow of equivocation.
The policy of attenuation.
Treason’s vine obscured beneath the blind surf of consent.
© 2014 & 2016 W. S. Warner
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 3:12 PM UTC
Dim vales—and shadowy floods—
And cloudy-looking woods,
Whose forms we can’t discover
For the tears that drip all over
Huge moons there wax and wane—
Again—again—again—
Every moment of the night—
Forever changing places—
And they put out the star-light
With the breath from their pale faces.
About twelve by the moon-dial
One more filmy than the rest
(A kind which, upon trial,
They have found to be the best)
Comes down—still down—and down
With its centre on the crown
Of a mountain’s eminence,
While its wide circumference
In easy drapery falls
Over hamlets, over halls,
Wherever they may be—
O’er the strange woods—o’er the sea—
Over spirits on the wing—
Over every drowsy thing—
And buries them up quite
In a labyrinth of light—
And then, how deep!—O, deep!
Is the passion of their sleep.
In the morning they arise,
And their moony covering
Is soaring in the skies,
With the tempests as they toss,
Like—almost any thing—
Or a yellow Albatross.
They use that moon no more
For the same end as before—
Videlicet a tent—
Which I think extravagant:
Its atomies, however,
Into a shower dissever,
Of which those butterflies,
Of Earth, who seek the skies,
And so come down again
(Never-contented thing!)
Have brought a specimen
Upon their quivering wings.
7.3k
A lump of eminence
Swells in her throat,
But she swallows it down
Flashing a shiny, humble smile.
This wild dandelion grows in the sun
and dances to the beat of the wind,
Scattering seeds of peace
And songs of love
In every corner of the world.
She floats among the stars
Crashing perfectly into
Every illustrious constellation.
As she shakes the stardust from her hair
And dusts her glitter-speckled shoulders,
She reaps the benefit
Of her selfless, meaningful offerings.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 12:56 AM UTC
Angelic minds, they say, by simple intelligence
Behold the Forms of nature. They discern
Unerringly the Archtypes, all the verities
Which mortals lack or indirectly learn.
Transparent in primordial truth, unvarying,
Pure Earthness and right Stonehood from their clear,
High eminence are seen; unveiled, the seminal
Huge Principles appear.
The Tree-ness of the tree they know-the meaning of
Arboreal life, how from earth's salty lap
The solar beam uplifts it; all the holiness
Enacted by leaves' fall and rising sap;
But never an angel knows the knife-edged severance
Of sun from shadow where the trees begin,
The blessed cool at every pore caressing us
-An angel has no skin.
They see the Form of Air; but mortals breathing it
Drink the whole summer down into the breast.
The lavish pinks, the field new-mown, the ravishing
Sea-smells, the wood-fire smoke that whispers Rest.
The tremor on the rippled pool of memory
That from each smell in widening circles goes,
The pleasure and the pang --can angels measure it?
An angel has no nose.
The nourishing of life, and how it flourishes
On death, and why, they utterly know; but not
The hill-born, earthy spring, the dark cold bilberries.
The ripe peach from the southern wall still hot
Full-bellied tankards foamy-topped, the delicate
Half-lyric lamb, a new loaf's billowy curves,
Nor porridge, nor the tingling taste of oranges.
—An angel has no nerves.
Far richer they! I know the senses' witchery
Guards us like air, from heavens too big to see;
Imminent death to man that barb'd sublimity
And dazzling edge of beauty unsheathed would be.
Yet here, within this tiny, charmed interior,
This parlour of the brain, their Maker shares
With living men some secrets in a privacy
Forever ours, not theirs.
6.3k
did you know
that the
self effulgent light
of God it self
is **** shaped
as above so below
the inner revelation
******* above...light woven
*** hole below ...flesh woven
does this not infer
a magical operation
perhaps a hermetic
ritual of adoration
perhaps a puja
to the ****
with ornate
kaleidoscopic mandalas
replete with wrinkles
and folds
emerald toilet bowls
silk *** wipe
with full color florals
to be ingratiated
by **** art prints
and to be fussed over
and judged
by certified *******
clergy
then to cleanse
with fragrant ointments
that it may remain
unsullied by its
birthing labors
voluptuous
smoldering
fecundations
for purities sake
as god remains
free of limitation
it too
must remain
free of its forgetful
tarnished children
i build temple of ****
high above the people
the little *****
do they
even know
where they come from
how they may
devote themselves
to the grandeur
of the solar ****
and its bestowals
of clumpy torpedoes
the catechism
of the solar ****
to know
to adore
to prostrate
to proselytize
the glory of ****
to the
for corners
of the earth
to be faithful
unto it
to be obedient
and present
your *******
for ritual manicures
by the true initiates
the fussy
******* faeries
those who have
the secret knowledge
and remain true
to the lore
and precepts
set forth
of divine correspondences
to fully appreciate
its eminence
its glory
and have no
God before it
that mercy
will follow them
all the days
of there lives*
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 8:35 PM UTC
Far away on tides of blue,
father still then havens of gray.
Stretching across those wondrous fields
farther still then the breaking day.
Reaching fourth strands of hope,
grasping for life in the depths.
A light appears in the mire,
a hope filled with deepest desire.
The eminence of this light priceless
the glory of its beauty,
eternal.
The stars gleam
the darkness beams,
the heavens soar
and the moon drifts and dreams.
The night is alive
under this sleepless light,
stars shift and sway.
To the beat of its reflecting gleam,
the galaxies drift away, away.
The wolf cries mournfully
to it's long lost love.
The moon in return
shines all the brighter.
The heavens rejoice
for the light is theirs,
the songs of the deep
rising higher and higher.
The night is alive
under the sleepless light,
The stars arrayed in all their splendor.
The night is alive with color and life
Love and peace,
beauty and such magnificence.
When the sleepless lights
shines ever bright,
the darkness fades
and the night comes alive.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 12:57 PM UTC
"Lie beneath the galaxy in a cathedral silence,
Stay up till the Sun dives behind arid eminence."
Out there in the seething cold sun,
The glint blinding all that I could see,
Light headed, drowsy for a lack of air,
Disconnected from all that to me dear,
And disconcerted of all that came prior,
Or was about to ensue..
.
I found myself ✓
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 4:34 AM UTC
In this darkest of night
I solemnly lay
Eyes closed in deep contrition
In need of your hearts melody.
My thoughts wandering far and wide
In search of your ardent smile
My heart craving
For your loving eminence.
As your beauty
And sweet spirit fragrance
Flood my heartily realm
My heart leaps to a joyous carol
Gracious precious Grace
Gracious precious Grace
Gracious precious Grace
Is my gladly refrain.
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC
Humanity has no support to duty
Both contrary in dealing and punctuality:
Non-the-less deny each claims still their validity
Former needs emotional skip where later regularity!
Humanity is a thing roundly soul concern
Fancies of many idles, despotic and obligated.
Estimate not to beautify active approach return;
Deserve aid remarkable quiet pleasing black arts.
Duty declares the deed must accomplish statutable,
Gratitude, greed and gratification are sub-judice here-of:
A crazy caution compel to foil inapplicable
Yonker's pride, old hand cultivated doctrinal of.
Certain condition humanity plays role of pre-eminence
Duty looks wanting help out of heels,
Depending on probation passion of sincerity convince,
Rejecting deep binder satisfactorily set aside exceeds.
If stands duty and humanity both together,
Glorifies the spirit immortal as His name
And also deal showing clean impersonality further,
None appeal to mercy could not dare blame.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 4:14 AM UTC
I thought we were so similar but now I see the difference
You want peace and friendship
While I want nothing
You constantly make attempts
To rebuild a scrap of friendship from the fragile bond I set a flame
To re kindle a candle but hide it from inferno
To delete the awkwardness and hit undo to before
But I don't care
And that's what scares me
I thought I almost loved you
But like that I'm ready to go
I want to move on
To hop in a car and drive away from the dust that's choking me
Despite our bond the fire is done and I don't need to clean the ashes because the bond was severed and the scraps of love burned too.
I thought we could be sisters
The others called you that
To me you were still a friend
But perhaps you were more than that
But with your double edged sword you stabbed our strings
And cut out our hearts
The others will still talk to you
Worry and cry
Still save you from danger
Because you are thise sister
But to me you are gone
An empty shell
And any love I felt dissipated into the air
To see you killed and walk away
Would no longer phase me
All I think of you is hate
No r eminence of emotion
I thought you were a friend
We were never sisters
But you were always there for me
Someone to talk to about the light things
I couldnt discuss the pain but at least your voice could lift my hidden sorrow
But then I was ripped away
Pulled from you and my sisters
But somehow I forgot
To miss you too much
I lived my life
Forgot to call
Simply acted as though
You didn't exist at all
What ever love I felt for you
I learned to live without
And simply forgot
About the emotion I used to feel
When our times were more real.
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC
1128
These are the Nights that Beetles love—
From Eminence remote
Drives ponderous perpendicular
His figure intimate
The terror of the Children
The merriment of men
Depositing his Thunder
He hoists abroad again—
A Bomb upon the Ceiling
Is an improving thing—
It keeps the nerves progressive
Conjecture flourishing—
Too dear the Summer evening
Without discreet alarm—
Supplied by Entomology
With its remaining charm—
3.7k
Shiva- the destroyer
The plethora of power
The synonym of destruction
He- who can never be defeated
The one who can demolish the world by mere opening of his third eye
Halahal- the most vicious poison rests in whose throat
Words are never enough to define whose eminence
The greatest manifestation of divine
The eternal and the auspicious
That shiva- the ultimate god
Is a mere corpse without ‘Shakti’
She gives strength to the ‘supreme being’
And they say women are weak.....
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC
The grotesque weight of human ignorance
Has slain the carcasses of innocence
Though I shall amplify resilience
Decline its fascist pleas to vanquish
No more spare **** it shall ****
No severed tissues we shall tape
No stealth blades puncturing the nape
We're foreign to psychotic language
Advance we must, cascade we shan't
Supremacy's the hymn we chant
Our eminence shall never slant
Majority refrains to languish
Not a stain of slumber peaks
Bones of stark rivalry we seek
© 2012 (All rights reserved)
Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 1:25 AM UTC
Running and howling in pain
His fate was suppressed with stains
Of sins he enslaved. His onus relegated
truth of everything he's denied.
Now pleading for his life
He wants to be human again
"O beautiful moon that bestowed
this curse on me, I've deigned to your
eminence. I'll do anything,
So please set me free!!!"
*Blood stains his clothes when the
transformation goes. Fever rises and
he’s left alone at dawn drenched in blood
and his transformation pain. While his
body aches as he left with shivers and shakes.
Bitten in the woods he’s been ****** by
the werewolf’s curse. He feels it
course through his veins in the middle of
the day. No prayer can make this curse go
away. Craving blood like never before he
ties himself up in shackles on his porcelain
bed room floor. Howling to the moon in the
dead of night. He breaks his chains from the
walls and looks at his claws as they cut through
the remaining clothes on his wolf body. Breaking
out free from his bedroom window making his
way down from the tree and off to the woods
where he can run wild and free. Hunting down
his prey and watching the blood drop from the
silver grey fur he finds another wolf like him near
the river stream. He runs over to ask him what
has happened to me. He howls to the moon while
saying you’ve got the gift to be forever free and
you'll never be the same again. You'll remain half
wolf and half human like me*.
Flabbergasted and petrified, this was not
what he had in mind. He wants to be human.
He wants to be free. The tears of innocence still
crying and screaming within "O brother of Lycans.
This curse that our gleaming mother has bestowed
upon us. This is a gift even the Lamias are in envy.
Feel the wrath and power O brother. Together, we
shall upraise the Lycan race!!"
*His eyes grew bigger his claws grew longer.
He had to leave his old life behind. Family
and friends , college and work. All his dreams
suddenly came crashing down in just one day.
They soon turned to ashes of black and grey.
Time to cope with the life of the wild.
Time to leave beauty and become the beast.*
***No more tears of innocence he said. Just blood spilling
and hunting for the ****
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 11:45 AM UTC
the excellence is evident in the credulous eminence
blessedness in the discipline of relevant emphasis
intelligence, if directionless, can lead to arrogance
purposeless over-confidence of pendulous relevance
defiantly, yet reliably, calliope waiting quietly
a variety of society that finds height in irony
i solemnly and politely will happily sit silently
finally facing the gravity patiently and privately
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 7:06 PM UTC
The legere sacristy of pure love blazing
Feline confluence across ethereal plains
Arched angelic collusion of things sepulchral
The arcane occidere travisty of
Transmogrification canonized
Darkling eminence ordained;
The verity aura of radiance
Twilights tidal blood- dye magenta,
Germane sleek meagre wealth chiming lo!.
Finitudes golden prayer draping flounded
Brutality tithing the zenith with mealy
Doer aptitude majestically turbulent
Sacrificing thoriums weld feudal
Of heavens deceitful soothsayers,
Fellow djinn of Gotterdammerung
Soli of vilest stoic jingoism.
ELEETE J MUIR.
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 7:07 AM UTC
Colliding; the collusion of day and night
Of things co-exsisting, theirs,
Light and darkness.
Blazing across the ethereal plain
An arch angelic inferno.
Infinite is the horizon
Confluently coloured; eminence
Transforming smouldering heat.
An auric aureole interpenetrating diverse bi-unity,
Illuminative transcension igniting
The charcoal black vast depths of heaven, space.
The eternal perfection ordained, twilight
Zenith sense turbulent like the oceans tide
Anthropomorphic legions, lingering shadows
In the purgatory of mischievous children.
Blood gushing like emotions,
Sacraments ordained for sacrifice
Canonised; Sepulchre
Immortal legions mortal as the knell echoes
This side of paradise,
Heaven an altar
A church altar, rapidly retreating
As stars disperse like candles fading-
Sacrilegious; sepulchre
Of angels fallen.
1997 ELEETE J MUIR
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
The air is charged with eminence.
Red-bellied birds lose their song in the wind.
Just when will the sky crack open?
When will the screaming turn to tears?
Send the drummers running
and, before their sticks hit the ground,
give face to wide-eyed fears.
I can smell you from my window:
Amalgamation of mushrooms and clover.
Just when will you crack me open?
When will my primal state lie bare?
Strip me of city sophistication
and, before the drummers come running,
wash me well beyond my years.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 10:22 PM UTC
To start --
being an adolescent with autumn eyes,
seeking a prophecy for long-standing bravery
to further the spinning spokes for minutes, five more,
I burned the drapes to reveal a humanity only I could see.
The expectations were elaborately existing, unsatisfying. Sons
and fathers, years refrained from matters
that reverse reverse reverse curses and maturity
without purpose.
Those idle accepted neglect, and the existence of an
unsalted bridge was quickly detained. Alone, the foolish described
to search for the future in geometric formation and coffee ring
stains fading the desk.
But the sense proposed in my decided equality drank dignity
straight from the bottle. The road that lead me between two cliffs,
Propriety and Statistics, with the rocks already pelting down,
could not diminish my enthusiasm for necessary absurdities.
There's no flesh in declared mediocrities.
I became a luminary for pleasures of eminence, hope with resolve,
opportunities in destiny. Blind gambles obliged the fear of exacting
sensibility. Passionate follies created no-regret-consequences,
satisfied stability. Only the **** are granted victories in eternal gaiety.
Mortality is irrelevant if you let mystery be your urgency.
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 3:53 PM UTC
I would like if I could, to venture out
into a baroque cave where the walls are translucent
and all that surrounds it are rivers of coherence
and incoherence
where I can scream, and when my echoes
radiate they bounce off on me and touch
the spaces in between my fingers
bizarre and ornate
rococo chimes lift my spirit
progressive, regressive
subliminal rising, into the sea of whispers
and final decisions
and crazed hands
and melting lips
and bruised knuckles
and fighting wrists...
I subsist to consist
of the fluid that makes me up
lavender barely breathing
flowers/continue/endure
hang tough, low by lakes of conspiracy
and hate/ block eyes/ shed those ill states
I carry this entity/essence/life gentely
in my arms like a ancestor. mother .
press its head against my skin and give it everything
in my blood filled hands, sinful/blessed/ tiered creatures
I feel beautiful in these worlds.
eyes closed in sleep, palms spread forth
oceans cleansing, I feel like an infant
stomach twists and hearts bat burnt wings
and learn to fly
I radiate.full hearted. eminence spoke to me
through her portal of solid grass and dieing trees
in the outskirts of the vagabond, slowly unraveling
like a child speaking
slowly growing like new love
stricken instantly
I am in
between Cleopatra and Mark
between Orpheus and Eurydice
between Odysseus and Penelope
between Elizabeth Bennett and Darcy
between Salim and Anarkali
I shiver in that love
that breathes in determent
and breathes out fragrance
temperate plasma hooked onto
the grind of my woman I beat like
the robins breast/ trembling in awe
like a living leaf blowing in the winter wind
resisting/giving in/ perishing/ breathing
to the sound of this beautiful life
Apr 29, 2011
Apr 29, 2011 at 5:53 AM UTC
*Italic drumroll...
imperial cavalcade with Roman horns, eagle standards raised*;
♪ ♫♪♫ ♪♪♫♫♪♪♫♫♪♪♫♫♪
ALL HAIL !
Ye screen-fed sacrificial citizens, seething simpletons and volatile voters:
attend now, with republican fervor, tempered by democratic zeal, to the golden-tongued orator of our epoch, gallant guardian of American greatness, avatar of avarice, the Jeffersonian gentleman, anointed autocrat and Sultan of Swell, windswept Wazir of Wonderful, emissary of towering eminence in empire, The Anti H-Rod: Donald J. TRUMP !
(Plebeians look up from their circus-bread for a second—)
And may Our Sovereign Savior & Almighty God also bless his worthy opponent and adversary *HILLARY ("H-Rod")*
(Patricians murmur, nod; a few salute)
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 5:22 PM UTC