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Hermes Varini Jun 2021
The Airn-Wanderer:

WÆPEN WUNDUM SUNDORGENGA

Waes Ah! Waes Ah, noo!
Beguid! an’ Greatly, unco Greatly Hye, IT!
Wi'in Abysmal-Deep Primal Fyre, IT!
Great Fair Thor's Orrah!
Lookin’ yondir! lookin’ yondir, noo!
Afore avidly, unco avidly
Drank hynne Ah! Great Warlike Orrah!
The Gowblat o’ Noble Precious Gowd Shimmerin':
Gleamin’ further, IT! Ane an' the Same, hynne!
Wi' the Verra Glare frae Bein' o' Power Supreme!
Gift Invincibly Purified IT, hynne!
Thad Enraged Wotan’s ain Verra Chalice o’ mine,
An’ Toast frae Hye-HEREHAND!
Great, in Fyre Ragin' noo, Ullr's Orrah!
Frae Noble Valhalla Rairan Deep
Wi’ ITS Metal Fiery Soul, hynne!
Orra Skye-Substance, orra Skye-Schorcin’ o’ mine!
Noo, verra unco! Core-Martially stylle grabbin’,
Wi’ Black Leather Glove
O’ Total Dazzlin’, an' Verra, Verra ​Core-Abysmal, IT!
Whyte-War, hynne!

ÞUNORE HWÍT CEALLA,

Fyre-Flowin’, the Verra Northumbrian Mead!  
Livin’, Tasty wi’ Pow’r, Great Warlike Orrah!
Niflheim-Watery, IT!

BEADWE, MĪN SWÆTAN,

Frae yon Ironclad Norþan-hymbre!
Frae Hel Itself Delicious,
Unco dyrinkin’, downe the hatch!
Hynne Ah,
My by-gone Days left orra Aflame:
Great Vision! Great Bellum! noo dyin’ o’ mine!
Whileas stylle waes hynne Ah!
Thro’ the Bare Highlands Dreary,
‘Yont South Ruins’ Bluish Burnan Wa,
Deep-Wanderin’,
In search for the Verra Lightnin’ Raed,
An' Flashin' Guide o' mine Devastatingly Immortal!

BĒOWES RĒADA FÝRTORR,

O’er Thae Cauld Moorlan Heights hynne,
Leisurely, implacably, Great Warlike Orrah!
Amyd Hye Rocky Smeddum all abowt me
Strollin’,
Intae the Verra Mirk Unfathomable,
Airn-Flesh o’ mine, hynne
Throwin’,
An' my Wise an’ Bold an’ Proud!
Sensual Noble Dame,
Gerðr galdrs Scho!

MĪN FÆÐMLICE OND BRYNIGE CWÝNE
SÉO HYGEÞRYMME ÁDRÍEGEÞ,

A' Oor Inflamed Naychts! Verra Wyntry Naychts!
Afore the Sacral Stane-Hearth:

WINTRES WÍDERFEORLIC HEORÐ,
HWÆR ÆFRE OND LÍGBRYNE
ÚSERE BRÆD GEMETEÞ,

Stylle deep-burnin',
Guid, Verra Guid Bleezan Orrah!
Scho unco weall! Scho unco weall! Ah say!
Rememberin',
In Lang Robes o' Deep Crimson Fyre, noo!
Her Superior Womanhood,
Full! An' divinely, orra divinely!
Thro' Her Glowin' Mystery Sinuous, o'er endowed!
Hynne stylle, unco ardently! in Primal Lowes, fully Sinuous!
Whare, Thys weall! weall! Scho unco knew!
Ah! Guid, Verra Guid Thundir's Orrah!
Used tae ay lose! nae abeigh!
Wi'in an Abyss Interminable an' Endless Contynent!
Ay, Great Guid Orrah! Masell!
An’ Verra Firey! sinuously Trowe! Verra Soul!
Unco tightly, wi' Norland Passion
Stylle profoundly Wemenlie o' Hers!
Shrouded,
Scho saw me! Scho orra saw me!
Noo, wi’ Courage Ablaze an’ unco Wreððe
Ascendin’
To orra desire! to orra possess,
To hae IT! To unco hae IT! back again!
Ah! LEOFLIC IREN HÁTAN!
The Lone Airn-Wanderer, SUNDORGENGA, Ah!
Frae yon Auld Götaland:

LAND GUMCYNNES GEAT-MÆCGUM,
BEADWE-HEARPENÆGLES EORÐRÍCE,

My ain Lost, the OVERMAN'S HIS-SEL!
Great, Great Mjölnir's Warlike Orrah!
Wi’ Bluish Skye-Gore, frae Thae Cauld Heights
Unco! Verra, Verra Guid O'erhuman,
Hynne, neist tae the Forgotten Firey Ruin!
Totally 'Yont-Human! The DAZZLIN' OVERMAN'S AIN!
Ah noo say! Ah noo tae the Moorlan Stormy Cluds yell! Orrah!
Skye-Imbued

Thundir-Bluid:

NORÐÞUNRES WÆLDRÉOR

Tae feel IT hynne! Tae unco feel IT:
Great Guid Warlike Orrah!
Total, unco Total, in Full New Skye-Gore IT!
Verra, Verra Thor-Hye!
Frae afarre! yet tae me Verra, Verra Skye-Close!
Rumblin' Skye-Destruction o’ mine!
Hynne Total Skye-Rebirth O'erhuman,
An' the Roaran', unco Skye-Roaran', IT!
Great Kvasir's Warlike Orrah!
Afore the Verra Disc o' the Full Mowne Murky,
Orra, unco, IT! in the East Dreary skye-risin', IT!
'Yont-Human, Great Jörð's Orrah!
Supreme Transformation!

WULFES GENIWUNG,

Wi' the New Skye-Knowledge Scorchin'
Owre, owre imbued!
An' in the Soarin' Zenith-Fyre
Deeply, deeply hawkan IT, hynne!
Thro' Thad Cauld Moorlan Secret
Ah am noo about to owre yell,
Frae the Thundir's yon Rumblin'
Verra, Verra Skye-Pride!
Intae my Veins Fiery
Fore’er an’ e’er, wi’ Ragin’ Skye-Bluish Hue
Noo flowin’,
Com on! Com on, hynne!
Dearest Mountayn-Thunderbolt o’ mine!
Taukin’ Ah noo am to ye stylle!
Struck me deep! struck me noo, Ah yell!
Great Fair Thor's Orrah! deep,

ÍSENSCÚR,

For fully Covered! orra Skye-Covered hynne!
In Feudal Skye-Airn Indestructible
Am Ah heare! for ye noo!
Tae attract hynne! out o' Thad Norland Verra Blue!
As the Skye-Magnet attracts the Rare Shinin' Metal,
Yer deadly Skye-Rage wpon Airn-Skynne o' mine!
Tae catalyze hynne yer loudly tellin',
Frae Yon Abysmal Distance! Lone Skye-Voice,

SCÍRHAM IC! BEADWE LÍGETUNG,

Whyle Ah stylle! intae Hye Lowes unco climb
Thad Cauld Rocky Soil,
Whyle Ah stylle unco tell
Thad Vision, most Solitarie o’ mine,
Whyle Ah stylle restlessly, implacably seek
My ain Lost Skye-Sel!
The Hye, Verra Hye! Adamantine Person o' the OVERMAN!

SUNSCÍNE SEOLF OND LINDGEBORGA,

Want Ah! truly unco, want Ah! owre want Ah, hynne!
Beguid an’ Great Guid! Hôm Loga Himna Orrah!
Noo, richte noo!
This kin Ah! still noo unco truly yell!
'Yont yon Whunstane Stronghold's Mirk Well!
Feel, unco o'erhumanly live, hynne!
Thad Continual Flashin’
Frae the Grayish Leaden Moorlan Cluds
Noo the Zenith-Sunne Invisible behynde
Hye-glorifyin’!
Thro’ the Verra Tundir Voice o'er an' o'er echoin,
In shape o’ Norland Hammer frae the Battle, IT!
Intae Veins Skye-Bluish o’ mine!

NORÐANWINDE! BLÓDWRACU OND FÆHÞ,

Next tae my Feudal Airn-Side noo still wounded
By Enemy an' Cowardly, tae Human, tae Cowardly!
Frae the Distance, hynne! shot at me!
Still Mortal Arrows!
Nae Fear, hynne! tae Earthly! tae Miserable,
Surpassingly Miserable, IT! unto the Verra Core!
To the Hye Fair-Haired Gods,
In Strang Norland Dignity an' Supreme Pow'r,
An' Skye-Vengeance frae Enraged Sacral Thule blowin'!
Noo! thro' Noble an' Future Skye-Gore o' mine schawe!
In my stylle the Verra Lightnin':

VICTORIAE SANGUINISQUE SIGNUM
OVERMAN

Noo implacably approachin'!
An’ ye! Sweyt an’ Scaur Enemies, not Quhone all ye!
Ye still cannae, cannae hear?
Yell an’ Furious Bellum, aye!
Frae Loud Thundir-Voice o’ mine?
Skye-Crash frae my Battle-Wounds IT:

MĪN HEORUDREÓR GLADAÞ,

Wi'in yer ignoble ears noo!
Wnto the Sacral Open Blue
Risin’ unco Freed!
Ye still want to *** to orra Heaven?
Hynne, heyre Ah am!
Com on! Com on! All ye Cowards!
Thys is whate Ah orra cam for!
Fecht me! Hand-to-Hand Strang!
Do signal the Attack!

ÞINE UNEARH GÚÐÞRACU OND GEWEALC,
ÞUNORRÁDE, MĪN HILDERÆS!

Glitterin’ Skye Axe-Blade o’ mine winna, IT
Cease to wait to orra shatter,
In a single Thundir-Blow, all yer Targes!
Com on! Com on hynne! ye Cowards!
Do noo hae the Warlike Verra Guts to taste
Gleamin' VARGS UNDA Alone o' mine!
O'er ye thys single Thundir-Blow pourin'!
Ye want still to unco give
Unto Enraged Airn o’ mine, Wonner IT, lo!
Yer Hand-to-Hand, hynne Feudal an’ Essential
Battle-Bluid?

HEOLFRE ANWIG,

Wha hynne want to be the First?
Wha hynne ready is noo to unco suffer
Frae my Verra Skye-Airn noo Skye-Flashin'!
Gunnþinga Called, IT!
Hys, alongside the Skye-Foreign, Nadir's ain!
Miserable, tae earthly, tae human orra Defeat?
Fecht Ah! for the Glare an’ Hye Glory O'erhuman
Frae Bein’ as Pow’r, Bluish-Firey IT!

ÞUNORES HAMOR,

Hynne heyre glowran at ye Ah unco stand!
Wi’ Great Clan-Vermillion Wyld Wraith o’ mine
Hye, Norland-Fair, an’ orra Warlike!
Wi’ Battle-Axe o’ mine gleamin’,
Unner yon War-Glare, ne’er, ne’er settin’,
An’ the Sunne’s ain Disc Refulgent,

BLŌDE ANWEALD, HWÍTE HEAÐUSIGEL,

Wnto deep the Wanwordie World, Mirk hynne, IT!
Richte, orra Ancestral an' Warlike Richte!
Greatly, unco greatly! Flamin'-Firey an' Zenith-Supreme, IT!
Verra Iron-Curse Blindin'!
An’ He cam! the Thunderbolt at length
Unto me He orra cam!
Thus struck waes Ah!
My Flesh, an' Bluid, an' Spirit!
Intae Thor's ain Skye-Force
At once turnin'
Tae greatly, tae unco! Verra Guid Orrah! see
Thro' Nyow Total Skye-Blindness O'erhuman o' mine!
Altogether hynne noo, Great Guid Saxon Orrah!
The Forerunnin’ Presence noo Devastatin’
Wnto me, stick-an-stowe, noo orra IT! comin',

IRSERN-SCÉAWERE IC,
CWIOFYRES BURHWEARD,
BÆLÞRACE OND BRYNEWIELMA GEBORGA,

Frae thowa, IT! in Primal Wreððe

Skye-Essences
Or
Twæȝe Strang Sunnes

Hwenne! Beguid an’ Great, Great Warlike Orrah!
Out-owre Hye Mountayn Glade, sic unco Wide:
The Cauld Vitrified Fort  
Wha's Sharp Surroundin' Gleamin' Wa
Thro' Hye Heat Monumental generated!
TAP O' NOTH waes:

FÆRBRYNE GLÆSFÆTES STANWEORC,

In Thundir-Bluid an’ Frame,
An' further unco Skye-Imbued Ah!
Wi' the Earthly Unidentified Energy
Frae thad Towerin' Verra Steid,
Noo still walkin’,
At length thare surveyed hynne Ah!
Wi’ Fyre-Sight, Deep-Penetratin’ IT,
An’ Auldfarran, Lucid Reason o’ mine,
The Heaven’s Blue Verra Vault:
Proud Storm-Shrine, Dearest o’ mine!
Ane wi’ my Skye-Rage Hye,  
An’ the Atmosphere, waes IT, waes IT,
Intolerably close, yet unco Potent, Heimdall-Divine!
Hynne beheld Ah, lo!
TWA ESSENCES O’ FYRE!

BRYNEWIELMUM CAMPWUDA,

Intangible, Untouchable, Impenetrable, baith Thay,
O’er the Whole Uranic Skye-Arch,
Their Skye-Dominion an’ Primordial Skye-Dignity
Unco haudin’:
The Essence o’ the ΛOΓΟΣ an’ the Essence o’ the REAL, Thay:

STĪELENRA-HEÁÐUSIGELA FÝRBÆREAN
GÆDERSCYPE OND GLÉDEGESA
ÞĀ HLŪDE BECWÆDON,

Twa! Tangible, Visible MICHTY SRANG SUNNES!
Twa, hynne! Let me stylle noo distinctly remember!
Unco Martially an' Norland Colourful!
Great Orrah! Rotatin', Thay A'! Thay A'!
Great Lone Sight o' mine!
Splintered nae! Round Shields o' War Dazzlin':
Ský Skǫglar frae the Auld Wondie Hólmganga, Thay!
Frae Auld! Verra, indeed Verra primevaly Auld!
Thro' Deep the Firey Tyme Conquerin', an' Ruthless,
An' towardis the Fleysche, Fallacious hynne Mortal, unforgivin'!
Crucial Gory Soil in yon 537 A.D. CAMLANN called
Thad haes bin, IT! a Witness tae my ain Shed Battle-Bluid!

BRYTENCYNING,
IC WIÞGEHÆFTE HINE, BLÁCAN ÁNWÍGE,
EFENLÍCAN GÚÐHERE BLÆDE,

Meany, Meany Kingdomes, an' Onslaughts,
A' Bluish-Ironclad Thay, ago!   
Hynne noo, whileas Ah stylle speak, Immortal am, an' waes awready!
Yet Thad nae, nae enough IT proved
Afore the Presence Devastatin' o' the OVERMAN!
Stylle, Ah knew, HE noo in waitin'!
HE WHA! HE WHA! HE WHA unco:
The Verra ENS! thro' the Dazzlin' Skye-Bluish Revenge o' HYS,  
Hynne Mine!
Tae the Yieldin' Ground o'ershadows! an' in an Ultimate Whyte War
Flashin' tae Fathomless Eternity, in Gore Shinin' defeats!
Intense Meanin' Primordial o' Battle Fierce baith Thae!
Hynne unco embodyin',
Afore thys, thro’ Verra Lowe penetratin’,
An’ wi’ Hye, Verra, Verra Skye-Hye!
Thundir-Bluid Thunderous
Awa, awa flowin’ IT, orra!
Loneliest Vision o’ mine:

GEBYLD,

When, Great Thundir’s Orrah!
Wi’ a speed Wicked yet Prodigious, lo! Sublime,
Closer, closer, wi’ the Impetus frae Twa Skye-Rams Wyld
They orra cam!
An’ in a Common Skye-Embrace!
Their Dazzlin’ Blades o’ Vibrant Steel!
Hynne crossin’,
Thus unco, owre imbued waes, waes Ah!
Wi' Thad Verra Hye Steel-Glare, Ah!
Wi' Thad intae Deep Fyre afore Wounded Step o' Mine meltin',
Feudal, unco Feudal Skye-Knowledge, an' Airn-Revenge!
An' advanced wi' Firm Martial Gait hynne, towardis
The Lonely Gleamin', Flashingly Firey,
Rewb-Gem o' Moorlan War Forgotten,
Thro' ITS Sheer Inner Foirce hynne unco Reddenin'!

HERECIRME, RÉOD GIMCYNN,

Whileas the Stellar Wynde silently ensued
Frae Thad Last Titanic Encounter an’ Battle,
Wi’ unco deafenin’ Core-Clash,
Frae Thor’s His-sel, again,
The Whispered Warlike Voice!
Hynne intae Ane Nucleus Whyte
At length blendin’, afore wnto me
Noo orra comin’ IT:

The Shield-Blinding:

DÆGSCIELD GEBLENDAÞ

For rendered orra, orra sightless!
Waes Ah noo,
Yet still able to distinctly behold,
An’ e’en deeper, unco deeper! Great Warlike Orrah!
The Verra Dazzlin’ Core, IT!
Wi’ Verra Bluish Flash, an’ the Skye-Gore
Frae Thundir-Eyes noo o’ mine
Sheer Sharp, IT!
For Thad Sudden Thundir-Blindin’ o’ Mine!
Ah am noo taukin’ abowt,
Great Dunnottar’s an’ Tantallon’s Orrah!
Gift Supreme frae Hye the Zenith-Skye!
Orra Skye-Generous hynne, IT!
Intae an All-Powerful, unco All-Powerful, Ah say!
An’ All-Seein’ Thundir-Force
Thundir-O’erhuman, hynne frae the Thundir ‘Yont-Human!
IT, in Hye Fyre! Skye-turned,
An’ New Unknown Fiery Demons IT
Orra, orra! unveiled:

ÁGLÆCAN WUNDORSÉON,

Athwart Noble Airn-Person o’ mine,
Thro’ the Cauld Blast frae Thad Moorlan Wynde
O’er an’ o’er fallin’,
For the Verra Skye-Vision o’ the OVERMAN,
Guid Orrah! Great Warlike Thundir’s Orrah!
Unco Profound IT waes!
An’ unco killed IT the Unprepared,
For waes IT for nae Unworthy Skellum  
To Feud an’ Sword Foreign!
An’ the Whole Wnivers, in a Verra Flash,
Thro’ the Same Auld an’ New Thunderbolt
Ah waes lookin’ for,
Penetrated IT orra waes:
THE HERACLITEAN, DEVASTATINGLY PROPHETIC, IT!
FIERY SKYE-FORCE!
FRAE THE VERRA AIRN-PERSON
STEEL-CONCRETE, IT!
DAZZLINGLY 'YONT-TELLURIAN AN' SKYE-CENTRAL!
O' THE OVERMAN:
THE 'YONT-HUMAN HYNNE NAE HUMAN!
THAD LIKE CONQUERIN', RAGIN' WHYTE-FYRE,
WI'IN THE YIELDIN' MURKY MIRK VOID SHINES!
INCANDESCENT O'ERHUMAN VERRA BODY!
THAD MINE AIN, AH KNEW,
SUNE AN' SYNE! UPON THAE BENS DREARY,
IT SHALL, GREAT GUID ORRAH! BE!
AN' WHA'S NOBLE AN' SOLEMN NAIM
HYE! HYE! THE ETHER'S AIN SKYE-SUBSTANCE
INTAE ALL-FERVID LOWES AN' METALLIC BRILLIANCY
TURNIN'

ΥΠΕΡ-ΚΕΡΑΥΝOΣ

WAES! THUNDIR-CONSCIOUS, AN’ DIRECTIN’,
THUNDIR-DESTROYIN’, HYNNE CRAETIN',
O’ER ALL THUNDIR-DOMINATIN’,
TO THE INFINITE UNCO THUNDIR-GROWIN’,
MINE AIN BLUISH MOORLAN BLUID
TO THE INFINITE ORRA THUNDIR-FEEDIN’,
Together hynne wi’ my Arteries o’ Skye-Blue
In Baith Spirit an’ the Verra Flow,
When orra struck again waes Ah!
Wnto Verra Death, an’ e’en ‘yont! waur e’en waur!
Skye-Waur, Great Warlike Orrah!
Towardis the Verra Dazzlin’
Skye-Weregild o’ Gowd:

GOLDWEARDA FORNÉÐAN,

For the Loneliest Vision o’ mine
To in Fyre, still unco blinded Ah!
Distinctly behold,
At bein’ hynne, Great Warlike Orrah!
The Sole Ironclad Witness
O’ my by-gone Path Aflame,
Intae ‘Yont-Human Will o’ mine!
Noo unco forged, Great Hye Orrah!
Wnto the Auld Bluid-Rock o’ Rebel Sacrifice
Far awa! in the Snowy Caucasus
Nae longer IT chained!

HRINGUM SWEORCAN,

Meanwhile, lo! At my Mirk Cloaked Back,
Behold ye! Another Identical Skye-Fusion!
For Twa Dazzlin’ Whyte Glows,
Symmetrical Unco Mirrors They,
As if frae Myrddin’s ain Magic,
To View o’ mine orra appeared:
Perfect Pow’r o’ Infinite Reflection, They!
Mine ain Past, my ain Future!
Baith embodyin’,
An’ waes stylle Ah!
Intae the Verra Middle o’ the Glare
Standin’
Wi’ Gleamin’ Claymore drawn, Dearest o’ mine!
Thundir-Hurt stylle, afore noo the

Destroyer of the Past:

ÍSIGE CWYLMING

An’ noo, Guid, Verra, Verra Guid o’ Gowd
Warlike Orrah!
Thus willed Ah! the OVERMAN!

BISENE WRECEND,

Freish an’ Auld! Airn-Feudal an’ Strang!

DUGUÞMIHTUM OND HEORUSWENGE,
ĒACEN BIÞ ŌFER-MANN,

Wi’ Michty Inner Energy o’ mine
Great Feudal Orrah! unco Alone!
Wha's Sole Hye Naim Firey OVERWILL!
IT unco, oan the Gory Battlefield, Ah weall knew IT waes!
Frae the Verra Skye-Dragun! A' Destroyin' hynne HE!
Intae the Deep Fyre, wi' HYS Beastly Wings thus orra spread,
Unco, prodigiously o'er A' HE hoverin',
Towardis the Past allwayes Dreadful e'en, hynne!
Wi’ HYS Scales o’ Enraged Gowd,
The Shinin’ Horror wi’in the Skye, IT!

FÝRDRACAN GLÆD GRYREBRÓGA
SÉ FORÞGEWITENNESSE UNWYRCÐ,

Skye-Perfect! intae the Mirror-Glare Image o' mine, HE!
The OVERMAN o' Deep Fyre,
Th'gither wi' my ain Reflected Bluid, hynne!
Noo, in Feudal Tartane-War stylle thundir-flowin'!
More intensely! o'er an' o'er in Steel hynne,
HYS Supreme Presence greatly tae the Infinite!
Orra skye-increasing!
Intae the noo Unleashed Skye-Pow’r!
Unto my Wounded Spirit o'er an' o'er
Hynne HE skye-returnin’!
As ane wi’ the Moorlan Rumblin’ Thunderbolt
Ah waes lookin’ for,
The Sacral Dazzlin’ Chain Mail Ablaze:

SCÉAWERE-HRÉOH,

In the Skye-Identity e'en most Skye-Asolute IT!
My ain! HE orra, unco flashingly wearin’,
Thus willed Ah! Past o’ mine back IT!
In Feudal Person o’ HYS, my ain! empowered:
GORY GHAIST! by-gone Immortal o’ mine IT!
Still orra Alive an’ Fiery!
Flowin’ an’ flashin’
Thad not Identical unto ITSELF IT waes!
Hynne unto ITSELF most identical!
Quhenne! in Feudal Airn-Flesh o’ HYS,
Great Warlike Orrah!
Thro’ Ragin’ Skye an’ Earthly Pride at once IT,
Most fleshily, intae Hye Fyre Purifin’
Waes incarnated,
Thus willed Ah, Future o’ mine, tae, hynne!
Wi’ the Iyce Cross o’er Moorlan Coat o’ Arms,
Frae Noble Dundarg’s Hye Wa,
In Feudal Steel, Greater, unco Greater IT!
Shimmerin’,
For the Past lived in the Verra Bluid o’ HYS,
Thynce thro' Hye Firey Gore Immortal:  

FULMINE VICTOR
MAGNUS INVICTUSQUE
OVERMAN

Let me Thys, NOBLE GLAMIS’ GREAT ORRAH!
Truly, unco truly yell! waes IT potentiated,
An’ sae waes the Future, stylle my Verra, Verra Ain!
Wnto Dazzlin’ Airn-***** o’ mine  
Wi’ Increasin’ Ocean’s Rage Tempestuous
Fore’er returnin’,

CRÆFTUM OND RÝNE STÍELE!
BEADUWÆPEN,

Intae Single Will O’erhuman
An’ Unforgivin’ Continuum, as Ane,
Whare Ye! Dearest Hye Thundir o’ mine!
At the Verra Skye-Zenith,
Still silently dwell!  
Hynne willed Ah! my ain Image
Frae the Past! Frae the Future! wi’ unco Force,
At once IT emergin’,
Towardis the Past! Towardis the Future! wi’ orra Dignity,
At once IT rushin’,
Intae the Implacable Spiral o’ Becomin’
Thad Ane wi’ the Verra Vortex o’ Return
IT! Great Warlike Orrah! waes,
The Past burnin’, the Future hynne IT affirmin’,
An’ unto the Verra Skye-Core!
GREAT HÖÐR’S AN’ WOTAN’S ORRAH!
Directed,
Noo afore my ain wi’ Fyre Wounded Eyes,
Thro’ each Revolution, ITS unco Strength,
Great Warlike Norland Orrah!
Unto the Fathomless Fiery Infinite
Increasin’:
The Verra Mountayn Thunderbolt!
Ah waes lookin’ for,
For the Increase o’ Pow’r ne’er Identical
Unto itself IT waes,
Hynne waes unto Itself most identical!
As noo met wi’ Ah

THE DESTROYER O’ THE PAST,
THE CREATOR O’ THE FUTURE,
O’ LYFE FORE’ER CHANGIN’
THE GREAT AFFIRMATOR,
HYE SKYE-VEINS O’ HYS
O’ERHUMAN, MY AIN!
THE IRONCLAD INCARNATOR
AN’ THE FEUDAL WITNESS!
O’ MY BURNAN MOUNTAYN-PATH
DYIN’:
THUNDIR-FRAME O’ MINE, HE!
STRONGER! STRONGER!
O’ER AN’ O’ER,
UNTO MY BY-GONE DAYS BLEEZAN,
AN’ THE ROARAN’ FUTURE!
AS MOLTEN SKYE-GOWD INCORRUPTIBLE
NOO RETURNIN’,
WHAR IMMORTALITY ITSELF HYNNE,
IN FORE’ER INCRESIN’
HYE FYRE AN’ BATTLE-GORE,
O’ERSHADOWED IT WAES,  
INTAE DEEP THE WHYTE SPIRAL,
SKYE-RECURRENCE INCANDESCENT, IT!
ANE WI’ THE LONE IRONCLAD IMAGE
UNTO VERRA, VERRA PERFECTION!
SKYE-SPECULAR O' MINE!
SCORCHIN' AN' SHININ' AN' UNCO TANGIBLE, HE!
THE CLOAKED SKYE-FIGURE
THAD WAES NOO
'YONT THAD AULD FORGOTTEN WA,
MY BLEEDIN' SKYE-COURAGE
IN WARLIKE SILENCE AWAITIN',
FRAE THE DEPTHS O' THE ROTATIN’ SKYE-ENERGY,

WEALHFÆRELDES DÆGWÓMA,

PROUDLY AN' INVINCIBLY SKYE-STANDIN'!
WHAR, GUID SKYE ORRAH!
FIERY WOE INTAE FEUDAL STEEL MELTIN',
DEEPER AN' NOBLER IT PROVED!
AN’ WI’ DAZZLIN' SKYE-REVENGE
O'ER AN' O'ER, GREAT THOR'S ORRAH!
IT SUPREMELY, IN BLUISH NORLAND AIRN FLASHED!

For, lo! the Verra Blank frae the Past
Together wi’ ITS Inevitable Feud-Foreign Woe
Hauntin’
Thad cannae be avoided hynne!
Mirk an’ Invisible, IT!
It nae longer existed! It nae longer existed!
For unco filled noo IT waes
By the Devourin’ Lone Lowe an’ the Verra Frame:
The Chain-Mailed, Heated in Airn War-Wame
O’ THE OVERMAN! HE:
WILL, AS THE VERRA INNER ENERGY!
VIGOUR, AS THE VERRA INNER WILL!
FRAE THE PAST, FRAE THE FUTURE!
TANGIBLE, VISIBLE, INCARNATED,
NOBLE WYLD DRAGON,
SKYE-BEAST O’ MINE,

GRYREBRÓGA OND FÆRGRYRE,
WUNDORA WYRM! ÚHT-SCEAÞA HÉ!

FYRE-WOUNDED IN NAE GOWD-CAGE, HE!
O'ER SKYE-SPIRIT O' MINE,
HE! HYNNE, UNCO SKYE-FLYIN'!
WI’ HYS SKYE-GORE O’ER THE BARS INVISIBLE
TRULY MINE AIN! GREAT GUID ORRAH!
DOWNE, DOWNE! NOO
LIKE THE PUREST RHODIUM
WI' THE FYRE-BLUISH
SKYE-ARTERIES O' THE LONE THUNDERBOLT
AH WAES LOOKIN' FOR
AGAIN UNCO BLENDIN',
Unto at Braemar the Verra Battle-Gore,
Afore the Lang Hour, in Kyng Eochaid’s
Martial Hidden Lore,
By the Force o’ Flowin’ Lava
Frae the Cauld an’ Dreary Highlands Implacable
Echoin’
Thad Becomin’ as Increase in Pow’r
IT, Great, Great Orrah! waes,
Backwards intae Tyme! Intae the Future hynne!
For the OVERWILL kan IT!
Destroye the Feud-Foreign Gory Bygane!
When o’er the Gleamin’ Skye-Cuirass
O’ the HYE OVERMAN ALONE!
IT lies visible an’ yieldin’ an’ razed an’ burnin'!
When o’er the New Soil o’ Dazzlin’ Alabaster
Conquerin’
Intae Deep the Future, thro’ Renewed Rage
An' yon Incandescent Skye-Thundir!
Ah waes lookin' for,
HE! My Specular Skye-Incarnation!
Fore'er orra creates!
Whileas thae words, in Roaran’ Wreððe,
Flame-Wounded,
Ah still loudly whisper,
But lo! Great Warlike Orrah!
THE IYCE CROSS FIREY
O’er Mirk War-Tartan, Dearest o’ mine!
Next to Dundarg’s Hye Wa, Ah well remember!
Embroidered,
Close to my Ruby Brooch strangely IT,
Unco strangely, like a Verra Premonition
Gleamed, afore noo

The Mirror-Fusion:

WĒOHES MELTAN

When, lo! Airn an’ Thundir!
Great Immortal Warlike Orrah!
Thro’ the Loud Whisper o’ the Thundir
Ah waes lookin’ for,  
The Image o’ the OVERMAN
Detached ITSELF, lo!
Frae baith the Surfaces in the Twa Opposed Mirrors:
Frae baith thae Reflectin' Skye-Furnaces Gleamin'!
Afore Noble Feudal Person o' mine,
Unco Sightless! Still unco Skye-Sightless!
E'en more! noo unco Sightless!
HE hynne, orra Ah beheld cam!
Wha’s Supreme Hieland Emanatin’ Force
Frae the Directin’ Skye-Lightnin’, IT!
Ah waes lookin’ for,
Na orra, orra Prodigious Sight!
Nae e’en Vör’s, or Heimdallur’s, or Snotra’s Ain!
If nae in Thundir Skye-Blinded as noo Mine!
Cuid, cuid IT! humanly, still tae humanly!  
This noo Ah! in Thad Skye-Fyre ‘Yont-Human!
Soarin’ heare in Dignity o’er Tap o’ Noth’s
Black Vitreous Smeddum an’ Cauld Martial Sand,
Cannae, cannae doubt!
Thro’ Thad Flashin’ Skye-Reflection withstand,
Frae the Past! frae the Future, hynne!
Great Warlike Orrah!
To encounter Spirit Ablaze o’ mine,
To Unleash Wyld Beast Immortal
Thad My Verra Mountayn Path  
Guarded still,
Some Bluish Bluid Stains IT leavin’
O’er the Michty an’ Pure Glass still:
My ain! frae the Clash o’ Life,  
An’ noo! Great, Great Warlike Orrah!
A LIGHNIN’-SHADE IRONCLAD!
Unto me, ITS Skye-Bluish Garb o’ Hye Skye-War!
In an Identity an’ Heat, e’en the Most Absolute!
To Verra Perfection reflectin',
Towardis Feudal Person o’ mine IT noo!
Wi’ Slow Skye-Gait,
Devastatingly, IT advanced,
An’ when afore me at length
IT standin’,
Thro’ the Loud Sound o’ the Thundir, lo!
Ah waes still lookin’ for,
In a Great Whoosh an’ Roaran’ Rumble
Non-Human Deep Voice, IT!
Frae the Past! Frae the Future!
Frae the Verra Brunan’ Throat
O’ the LIGHTNIN’ HIS-SEL!
Ah waes still looking for,
Wi’ Spiral Exhalations unner the Form, schorcin’ IT!
O’ Just Anger frae Primeval hynne Most Real
Forgotten Feudal Lore
The Hand-to-hand Wapin-Storm Harsh!
An’ Skye-Revenge, still Mine Ain!
Unco an’ owre loaded,
As Maddenin’ Heated-Airn, IT again!
Unto the Cauld Blue Vault o’ the Verra Skye
Wi’ orra, orra Dignity
Lonely risin’,  
Thae Verra Syllables!
The VERRA SKYE-INCARNATOR O'ERHUMAN!
Intae Deep noo, Great Orrah!
The Abysmal Skye-Core Bluish-Aflame, IT! o' the

Total Specular Skye-Force:

BRYNEWELMES WORDHLÉOÐOR

The Skye-Conscience, Víðarr-Hye o’ mine!
Most distinctly! Great Warlike Orrah!
HE, THE BLUISH INCARNATION HYE
O' THE HYE LIGHTNIN' ITSELF!
Ah waes lookin' for,
Wi' a Skye-Cowntenance Storm-Hidden
Flashin’ frae Deep the Obscured Skye-Mirk
Thro’ a Battle-Scar intae the Fyre gleamin'
O'er HYS left Sword-Offended Cheek:
Thys cuid Ah! unco Blinded, see!
Intae Deep the Skye-Unknown,
Still, Great Guid Glamis’ Orrah!
Stick-an-stowe a Wonner, Mine Ain!
Thro' HYS remarkably Echoin',
Non-human, hynne 'Yont human!
VERRA SKYE-RUMBLIN'!
Noo unco earthily uttered:

YE, WOLF-WOUNDED!
AN’ PROUD, IN BLACK TARTAN O’ WAR
MUFFLED,
KEEK AT ME! KEEK AT ME NOO!
IN NAE TAE EARTHLY TOWMOND!
DO NOO HYNNE LISTEN TAE ME!
YE, NOO FYRE-IRONCLAD WOUNDED!
THE HYE NORLAND GODS INTAE OWRE FYRE
STYLLE HYNNE HONORIN'!
BETTYR BIDE AN' DIE OAN THE NOBLE BATTLEFIELD GORY,
AN' STYLLE, 'YONT BAITH LIEFES AN' DEATH,
FORE'ER ALIVE HYNNE BE!
THEYNE BIDE A MISERABLE LIEFES!

WULFE BLŌDGA HEONAN!
ÞŪ BLADESUNGA OND LÉOMENA HEOFONFYR,
WACA BYRNSWEORDES WIÐ GEHATUM!

FOR DAINGEROUS! VERRA, INTAE THE FEUDAL FYRE DEEP, IT! DAINGEROUS!
MUST TREOWE IDEAS, IN VERRA HYE LOWES, BE!
FOR THE VERRA MICHTY, WHYTE ZENITH-SUNNE
AN' THE ALLWAYES UNKOWN MIRK DEATH!
THE SAME THAY! GREAT THOR'S NORLAND ORRAH! ARE,
FOR THE SELECTED FEUDAL MAN, IRONCLAD HE!
AS YE, IN THAE HYE LOWES, UNCO ARE!
NOO AFORE ME! INTAE THE AULD LONE TARGE-REFLECTION
THAD IS, WAES, AN' SHALL IT BE, THINE!
HYNNE, HEARE AH AM! FOR FRAE THE AULD SHIELD-MIRROR YER RICHTE SKYE-VENGENCE!
FOR YER AIN SKYE-FORM AFORE YE HATH RISEN NOO!
FOR FREISH VALUES ARE NOO OWRE NEEDED!
WI'IN DEEP PRIMAL SKYE-FYRE UNCO SKYE-LIVED!
SAE, SKYE-LIVE THAIM! UNCO DRAM THAIM A’!
WHATE'ER THE RISK INFERNAL, AN' MOORLAN AMBUSH!

GÁSTCWALE HELRÚNENA FORNÉÐAN,

THRO’ HYE BLUISH SKYE-LOWES, SKYE-DESTROYIN’ THAY
WI’IN YER AIN LONE SKYE-VOICE IT NOO!
FRAE AFARRE! FRAE UNCO AFARRE RUMBLIN’,
FOR CURSED IS THE FLEETIN' HOUR!
AN' SAE MUST BE CONQUERED, IT! GREAT ORRAH! AYE!
IN YER SUPERIOR BLUID NOO O'ERHUMAN, MINE AIN!
FOR BRANDED HAE AH
RUDDY SKYE-FLESH O’ MINE
THAD WAES, IS, AN’ SHALL IT BE!
BY THYS VERRA, VERRA SKYE-IMAGE HYNNE,
YER AIN!
WI’ THE IYCE-CROSS FIERY
FRAE HYE THE THUNDIR’S LOUD VOICE,
IN NAE WHISPER DAMNABLE, NOR AIRN-FOREIGN!
AH NOO ORRA TELL:
YER SYMMETRICAL LONE SKYE-FORCE:
THE VERRA LONE THUNDIR-BLUID!
YER AIN LONE SKYE-WRAITH IRONCLAD!
THRO' ETERNAL SKYE-POW’R,
AN' OUT O’ THE BLUISH LONE SKYE-REVENGE
O’ER AN’ O’ER UNCO, O’ERHUMANLY MIRRORIN’!
TO YE HYNNE OWRE IN DEEP FYRE RETURNIN’,
YER AIN WANTIN’ SKYE-HALF, HYNNE!
TH'GITHER WI’ YER SKYE-SPIRIT!
IN HYE LOWES NOO UNTO THE CORE SKYE-DABBED!
A' THIS! A’ THIS! AH SAY! AH TRULY YELL!
TH'GITHER WI' THE LAST SKYE-PRIZE!
INTAE HYE THE SKYE-BLAZE,
THE HAIL ENEMY LAND HARSH NOO
FRAE CAULD HORIZON TO CAULD HORIZON
OWRE CROSSIN’,
A' THIS! A' THIS! AH ALLON, TRULY!
YER MIRROR SKYE-DOWBILL IMMORTAL!
THRO' STEEL CORE-METALLIC, IN HYE SKYE-FYRE AM!
ABYSMAL LAVA-BLUID O’ MINE!
FLOWIN’
FRAE HYE RED HEL, IT! THY LANE BEHOLD!
YER AIN!
INTAE DEEP THE FUSION-GLARE,
BLASTED SKYE-FURNACE IT!
UNREACHABLE, UNFATHOMABLE, MOST TANGIBLE, IT!
THE VERRA FRAME
LESURELY, NEXT TO YE IN BATTLE
STROLLIN’!
THE LONE INCARNATION
AN’ THE SKYE-ROAR
FRAE THE VERRA THUNDERBOLT
YE WERE LOOKIN’ FOR
HYNNE YER FUTURE, YER BYGANE:
NAE DIFFERENCE! THAA ARE MINE AIN!
INTAE THE HYE FYRE, FRAE YER TANGIBLE
SKYE-WILL! THAD AH NOO HEARE AM,
FOR SKYE-ENERGY CANNAE DERIVE FRAE NOTHINGNESS!
NOR UNTO NOTHINGNESS KIN IT RETURN!
HYNNE WILL, 'YONT DEATH,
THRO' THE LANG AN’ BLUISH
SKYE-LOWE
YE WERE LOOKIN’ FOR,
IMMORTAL AS CONQUERIN' PROVES,
STILL, WI'IN RAGIN' AN' VISCERAL
DEEP PRIMAL FYRE, YER AIN!
FOR YE SHALL STILL LIVE YER LIFE AGAIN,  
THIS TYME INTAE THE HYE SKYE-POW'R!
WI' ITS NEW ESSENCE SELF-OVERCOME,
HYNNE DO UNCO LIVE NOO!
THAD VERRA GORE HEARE,
FRAE MY BLEEZAN OPEN SCARS, YER AIN!
FOR THE WORN PAST DWELLS DEFEATED
IN THE FUTURE AS EMPOW'RED!
INTAE THE STEEL-BLUISH IMAGE AH HEARE AM!
NOO AFORE THINE SKYE-BLINDED EYES
THRO' THE LONE HYE LOWE WOUNDED,
THAD ARE ALSO MINE!
IN NAE SPECTRAL FYRE, HYNNE!
STICK-AN-STOWE, AN' VERRA VERRA SUNE!
YER AIN!
WI'IN THE HYE ZENITH-THUNDIR HYNNE,
YE WERE LOOKIN' FOR,
O'ER AN' O'ER FORE'ER LIVIN',  
AN' THRO' THE HIELAND FLOWIN 'LAVA:
THE BECOMIN' IN POW'R FORE'ER RENEWED
THRO' THAD SKYE-BLUID HYNNE!  
FLASHINGLY STREAMIN'
AS A CONQUERIN' WYLD FYRE-RIVER
FRAE NOBLE HYNNE SUPERIOR GORE,
DOWNE, DOWNE!
INTAE THE VERRA WHYTE CHASM, AN' FLASHIN' ABYSS!
FRAE YON SHARP AN' SHININ' AN' TOWERIN' MIRK ROCKS!
AN' THIS SACRIFICIAL BLUISH BLUID INCANDESCENT
FRAE O'ERHUMAN LIFE STILL WOUNDED, MINE!
WAES, AN' IS, AN' SHALL IT BE!
BEHOLD YE! UNCO SEE YE, NOO!
YE, O'ERHUMANLY BLINDED!
HE WHA! THE DREARY VOID O' DARKNESS
CANNAE, CANNAE! IN ANY MANNER NOO KNOW!
HYNNE IN HIELAND SKYE-RAGE,
AN' HYE! O'ER THE FEUDAL THRONE IMMORTAL,
AN' HEARE! OAN THE SURFACE O' THIS SKYE-MIRROR!
WAES, AN' IS, AN' SHALL IT BE!
WI'IN THE MELTIN' UNTO THE COSMIC CORE
SKYE-GLARE, YER AIN!
AN' NOO! DO ADVANCE!
DO TAKE A STROLL INTAE THE HYE SKYE-GORE!
GANG AYONT! GANG AYONT! AH SAY!
'YONT EVERYTHING! ‘YONT LIFE AN’ DEATH E’EN!
GANG AYONT!
AN' WHATE SHALL YE IN THE END SEE?
AT THE BOTTOM O' THE WHYTE CHASM FIERY?
YER FLASHIN' IN AIRN IMAGE ALONE!
THAD IS MINE AIN!
HEE HAW, HEE HAW ELSE, AH SAY!
WI’IN THE SPECULAR SKYE-POW'R INCARNATED,
THE VERRA SUM AN’ COMMUNION O’ THE ETERNAL TENSIONS
IN BECOMIN’ DWELLIN’ AH HEARE AM!
THRO’ THE LOUD SING FRAE THE THUNDIR HYNNE!
BY HYE SKYE-VENGEANCE FORE’ER INCREASIN',
O'ER AN' O'ER TO YER SPIRIT HYNNE RETURNIN',
YERS HYNNE MINE!

When noo, Great Warlike Orrah!
Upon thae Verra Words, thro’ my Ain
By noo Thundir-Voice!
In an' unco Skye-Rumblin',
Wi'in Thad O'erhuman Blaze wi' hye force condensin'
Intae a NEW THUNDIR-FRAME Skye-Concrete
In aspects o' PURE BLUISH HEAT!
HUMAN ALTOGETHER NAE LONGER, IT! tone,
Ah distinctly hearin’,
When noo, Guid Sundrum's Orrah!

The Fyre-Bringer:

FÝRHEARD HEREWULF OND HEREWÆÐA

A Thoosan Black Banners, in Hye Glorious Lowes,
Orra issuin’,
An’ wnto yon Whyte Chasm the Salute wavin’,
Wi’ the Hue o’ Red-Hel IT imbuin’,
HE, Hynne Ah: the Freish an’ Auld Titan
Far awa, far awa! wi'in the Dreary Caucasus!
Frae ayont yon Suthron, hynne!
Ah kin clearly see!
Rebel hynne Creator, HE!
HE, Creator hynne Rebel!
The OVERMAN! comin’ o’er, still approachin’,
Intae noo deep the Skye-Dance Everlastin’
Thro’ HYS AIN hynne MINE
Skye-Thunderous Sound
Ah waes lookin’ for,
Dominatin’,
Frae Thae Simmetrical Verra Fyre-Mirrors!
Still glarin’
Ne’er e’er to yield, the Twa Skye-Surfaces!
Nor in human, tae human!
Unco Gory Misery, nor Skye-Foreign Blasphemy,
Nor Damnable an' Cowardly Affront
To e'er wane!
At length thro' the Hye Vigour Supreme
Frae the Overwill Alone!
Dearest o’ Mine! Inner Energy Abysmal:
Still Uknown, IT!
An’ in Skye-Reverge freed!
A Thoosan Black Banners, in Fyre, Ah say!
HE, hynne Ah issuin’,
When noo, Great Guid Orrah!
The Skye-Bluid o' the OVERMAN:
Theis! oan Thae Countless Mirk Banners floatin'
In Hye Honour o' the Zenith-Sunne!
Wi'in abysmal whyte runes waes noo graven,
Hye Selective an' Skye-Supreme proved!
Nae, nae IT, for all!
For nae everybody is worth withstandin'
The Return o' Pow'r's Noble, an' Flashin'
Supreme Force, an' Infinite Speed, an' Spiral Revolution!

CÁFNES ÞRÝÞBORD,

Tae the Skye-Limitless fore’er,
In the Form o’ Hye Steel Feudal
Skye-soarin’,
ITS Verra Great, Verra Guid,
Great Guid Auld Carham’s Orrah!
Burnan Wheill o’ Universal Core-Energy
Skye-Central, Skye-Abysmal, IT!
Alongside the Rational Force frae the Thundir-Impetus
Thad waes, is, an’ shall IT be the OVERMAN’S AIN!
In Hye Lowes increasin’,
Tae the Skye-Infinite, hynne!
Most Renewed, most Identical,
Intae the Verra Spiral most Empowered!
The Worthy ENS, unco hynne Joyful, IT!
Immortal owre feastin’,
For intae Thae Rapid Coils o' Glorious Fyre hynne,
Frae Thys MICHTY TARGE O' SKYE-ENERGY PERENNIAL!
Nae for all! Immortality is solemnly worth
Thro' Thad Increasingly Growin'
Feudal Skye-Rebirth Steel-Mirrorin'!
Wnto ragefully Bluish-Ablaze an' Core-Feudal
Noble Hye Perfection!
An' in Eternal Steel Unconditional, IT!
Dwellin',
The Human, tae Human!
Gory Chains o’ Promethean Slavery
Bluish wi’ the Verra Reverberation
Frae the Lightnin’ O’erhuman
Ah waes lookin’ for,
They suddely becam!
An’ at length, Great Warlike Orrah!
The Lonesome Blindin’ Frame o’ Gowd,
Wha’s Sole Hye Thundir-Naim

Overman Skye:

SCEAWERES IREN-EALWEALDA

IT orra waes! Frae the Twa Dazzlin' Mirrors
In Perfect Symmetry emanated wi’in
The RETURN O’ POW’R!
Burnan’ Vortex-Event Universal, IT!
In Slender Lines o’ Whyte Fyre,
The Verra Core Heat
Reachin’,
Intae Infinite Reflections o’ Primordial Pow’r
Frae the Twa Lookin' Glasses, Blindin' They!
O’er All, Great, Great IT!
Njörður's ain Battle Orrah!
Limitless Dominion, an’ the Feudal Rule
Steel-haudin’,
WHILEAS WAES AH! WAES AH!
GUID, VERRA GUID EILEAN DONAN'S
WAR-TARTAN ORRAH!
STYLLE CHAINED IN BLUISH GORE, MY AIN!
HYNNE THE OVERMAN'S AIN, TAE!
WNTO THE AULD AN' HYE! VERRA SKYE-HYE, IT!
THUNDIR-GLEAMIN' BLUID-ROCK O' SKYE-SACRIFYCE:
NAE LONGER! NAE ORRA SKYE-LONGER!
An’ ITS central Rays an’ the Verra Lowes
Intae Ane Flashin’ Ironclad *****
Polarizin’,
A Thoosan Tymes Greater, Mightier hynne:
The OVERMAN!
O’er an’ o’er unto me returnin’,
‘Yont the Reddenin’ Pillars o’ Immortal
Skye-Renown!
‘Yont Death, the Mirk Unknown!
An’ ITS Feud-Foreign Fear,
Whyle, lo! the Steel-Vibration gleamin’
Frae Máni's ain Verra Crescent,
Dusky-Red, IT!
Waes, waes, in yon Murky West
Still IT unco risin',
Unfathomable, an' Potent, an' Dreary,
Unto the Stane Circles’ Builders
Wounded frae Life, at Skara Brae,
Appearin’,
At right angles to the Chain-Mailed *****
Noo orra descedin’
To cross the Region o’ the Heart:
Let IT fall intae the Verra Abyss!
Yet the Sceadewe! Great Wotan's Orrah!

ÓÐENES HÁLIGE CRAWE,

IT stylle leisurely stood,
In Hys Mirk Bluid Bleedin’,
Crossed hynne by the Verra Thunderbolt!
Ah waes lookin’ for,
An’ Hys, frae Kyng Rædwald the Gift!
Mask o’ War IT, lo!
Wi’ Black Fyre bleedin’,
Upon the Cauld Soil, together wi’ Hys Cloak,
Waes IT thrown,
Hynne Hys Mirk Warlike Self unveilin’,
Still Mine Ain!
Nae Gory Fear! tae owre hide:

SCEAD UNDER HELME HEARD BIÞ,
MĪN FORESCÝWA RÉADAÞ.
Divided into distinct narrative phases, each with its own title, this poem, or rather epic of mine, illustrates the story of a wanderer, of Scandinavian origin, in the Highlands of XI Century Scotland, the narrator himself, as searching for an ultimate superhuman identification, specular in kind. While covered with martial iron, he thus seeks a lightning to strike him deep, as this only can grant the encounter with his own mirror image, his own Superior Other-Self, or the Overman himself. The tone is archaic Scots and highly conceptual with, possibly, some experiments in the language. Fundamental philosophical notions of mine are thus propounded, as in the end merging into a final scene of an absolute energetic gravity. The last verse is entirely in Anglo-Saxon, with a reference to the Sutton Hoo helmet, hence to king Rædwald of East Anglia, as accordingly mentioned. Each title is directly linked to the text. “Skye” reads “Sky”, in further reference, also, to the Isle of Skye, in the Inner Hebrides. "Hynne" (also "heyne", which latter I employed in my composition "Gowlin' Storne") is archaic Scots for "hence".
ryn Mar 2017
This is my feud...
This is my fight.
Many are my thoughts,
I hide from sight.

I show myself steady
but much remains unseen.
Ungreased are the cogs in my head.
Their teeth sharpened keen.

They eat and abrade.
Always turning, always grinding.
Results always made,
detrimental and unforgiving.

So think of me...
Not negligence maintained
and notions bought.
Think of my feud.
Let it be food for thought.
The evening shall lay waste to the day
As it retreats over the horizon
The day shall counter strike its way
Up unto the morning
And i'll be waiting and watching as i do
For the end to the neverending feud
And the beginning of true solitude
preservationman Mar 2014
So many people into soft drinks think soda is soda
It’s a general subtle to that order
However, there is a feud going on between Sprite and Coke
It may sound like a joke
You might even choke
But to Sprite they have appeal
Then there’s Coke who feel they are for real
Pull out your straws and open a bottle of Coke and Sprite
Let the soda challenge begin
The texture of Sprite in the see thru glass with its lemon and lime
The Coke having its own ingredients with assorted flavor combined
However with every pour
It is the every soda fizz that is galore
Sprite says, “They have the taste that dazzles the mind”
Well Coke responds with, “We have been around since time”
The Coke’s story centered around some Poplar Bears
Well Sprite in that instance can’t compare
Sprite is determined to have the customer obey their thirst
That’s all that matters when doing it first
Well this challenge is really hard to say
But to this poet that is ok
Sprite and Coke both have good taste
Surely I am not going to spend time and make waste
So what if Sprite is clear and Coke is dark
Both have been around and made their mark
This soda challenge is done
It was a matter in thinking soft drink fun.
SOFT DRINK OF ANOTHER WITH THE REFRESHING THIRST OF THE OTHER
MY FROG MASTERS

How thoughtful were the rainfalls
To water our gardens and flowers
The flowers spread wide garments
To celebrate their terminal beauty

The joyful frogs occupied my pond
To orchestrate their vocal prowess
They taught me to take blind leaps
Like lightning bouncing in the skies

Squatted, stretched, beeped down
I was a millstone on the pond floor
My slippery pond mates wondered
How soft I was in the maritime arts

Mortally rescued in a muddy mood
The clouds sent in rescuing showers
To confirm my firm loss to the frogs
Like a grain of salt cast into the seas


673. MONEY BAGS IN THEIR BODY BAGS

The money bags shopping for their body bags
Waggled through the makeshift supermarkets

Their ancestral homes they plotted modernity
Like the general gathering fine forces together

To the villages they made to return with pride
Like pregnant elephants caught up in the mud

Their desolate villages are deep and sickening
Glowing flamingly in the crucibles of local gins

The dusty and gravy pathways are like furnace
Burning the leather off from their frozen souls

Traditional birth attendants cut off their cords
And zipped the money bags in their body bags

674. A GLORIOUS DAY

The new day spoke powerfully
Like a war making superpower
And his voice roared forcefully
Like the skies forced to shower

The sunrays came dynamically
Like love responding to silence
Beauty crawled in submissively
Like the mixed arts and science

One eagle soared energetically
Like lions feuding in the colony
Far clouds relocated peacefully
Like souls betrayed to harmony

The breeze sighed thoughtfully
Like horses galloping on the lea
Inspiration unfolded thankfully
Crowns monuments with a pea

675.  THE FOG BANK

The sun had gone to pay our bill in the fog bank
The world foggily crawled into the strong rooms
Darkness demonstrated her strong mindfulness
Provided for the strong gale with lurking shrieks

The black paint billers snowballed to our dreams
With the bill of exchange for wild sunny excesses
Ghostly bats emerged with the bill of indictment
In demonstration of our acrophobic dispositions

We packaged the sunrays for our folk memories
To reassure the day of our eternal followerships
We cherish our follow-throughs in our dark beat
To usher the sunlight out of the hollow fog bank

676. THE PROTRACTED INTERNECINE FEUD

These things had happened before we were born
Like sulphur deep into our fresh hearts they burn
Now we stumble on the bumpy terrains in horror
Like one frightened by ghosts in a standing mirror

The internecine feud has razed our men of valour
With their carcasses dumped in their cold parlour
Our community cattle graze in the barren pasture
Like the unrepentant sinners awaiting the rapture

For our plight the once glorious sky is grown pale
Like the ***** fetching territorial waters with pail
The storms have rolled off the catalogues for rain
All our efforts to mop up the mess end up in vain



677. THE AREA LEADERS

They cracked coconuts on the heads for the crown
And embraced our days with their castaway pollen
Sadness and sorrow have dyed our garment brown
With the strongest song sung when night has fallen

These are the blinding dusts from our barn’s grains
They breed cunning serpents in the soft pasturages
They are failed cargoes on our broad societal trains
They dedicate our common committee to outrages

Now our days seek deliverance from their tentacles
Like the colourful fields immersed in gloomy beauty
They play our eyeballs with the stenciled spectacles
With our consciences to sight and found us off duty

To rescue us the colossal clouds were born gadarene
Our communal life was willed to pageants of gaieties
Then moonlight stories held us for a larger gathering
Now all the objects we sight dress up like cold deities

678. THE LAST DESCENDANTS

The rapacious thunderstorms ***** the skies for their tears
The hot embers were born to glow mourning the late forest
The moon crawled out of the blue like a great grandmother
Cuddling her descendants wrapped up in her ancient shawls

The wild waves were weird weavers weaving withering wails
The captioned wigs gyrated on stunning shoes upon auctions
The little creatures crouched in primeval baskets of the night
To gnaw at the generational tubers in the creative farmlands

The dazzling specimens of dentitions relaxed in water basins
Like bright red artistic architectures on potent ocean boards
Golden hearts glow in the threatening prisms of the furnace
As beautiful sunset defines her beauties in her nightly corset

It had been a sweet pill for the past descendants to swallow
Depending on the colonial masters for loaves, lore and lures
Our creativity had been packaged in their mortal depravities
Like the tranquil days resting sorrowfully upon the dark oars

The centenarian thunders downgraded our minute whispers
We had been kept upon our toes by the eternally sworn foes
At last our worthy artworks have worn their wormy catwalks
The refreshed dawns greet our easting days in their greenery



679. VICTIMS IN THE VALLEY

The victims in the dark rally
Caged, dried and browning
Therein their meanings tally
With waves born drowning

In the depth of a cold valley
Horrible nobles are cultures
Like pilgrims in the dark alley
Willed to ravenous vultures

The victims all robed in tears
With hearts like potter’s clay
For pains they have no fears
Only mimed games they play

For victory awaits the victims
Alien to a blind mimed game
Glorious are eternal rhythms
For death Christ died to tame

680. THE GIANT SCARS

These are our giant threatening scars
Engraved on our demonstrative heads
Our sympathies crawled on superstars
Weeping for us on their moonlit beds

They threatened us with nasal sounds
Like thunderclouds seasoned to burst
For us their galleries are out of bounds
Behind the iron bars plagued with rust

Our patience passed their wildest tests
Like the lions roaring in the thick jungle
On the heart of the Lord our faith rests
Like numbers posted on the right angle

681.  A LADY

In a lady’s handbag
Is her hidden hunchback
Stuffed with her heart ache
For the pains relieving groom

In a lady’s tender smile
Is hidden miles of similitude
Marked with the zebra crossings
For the ever winning marathoner

In a tender lady’s heart
Is hidden her cowboy’s hat
Soaring within the white clouds
To soothe the earth with the latter rains

682. BRING BACK OUR GIRLS

Bring back our homesick girls
Their vacant cradles are bleeding
Bring back our innocent girls
On the chariots of fire descending

Bring back our suckling girls
Their feeding bottles are weeping
Bring back our infant girls
Their mothers’ ******* are heavy

Bring back our harmless girls
The united universe is thundering
Bring back our dewy girls
In the sharp sun rising in the skies

Bring back our beautiful girls
Like light plucked from darkness
Bring back our glorious girls
Aboard the shore-bound waves

Bring back our worthy girls
On their fresh faces our lights seek to glow
Bring back our living girls
Our fountains of joy are bubbling to burst

For our returned girls the skies shall bear
Roaring rivers, singing seas, chiming clouds
With gongs and songs, pianos and praises
Dulcet dulcimers and documentable dances
With healthy hymns and eloquent embraces
All nations shall into a common cathedral flow

683. ****** GENEOLOGIES

They electrify their demonic high tables with old fears
Only their ****** genealogies are bookmarked to reign
The sight of their portables whetted our eyes to tears
We are reinforced by the clouds born to the later rain

Our skins have renovated the sickening cattle wagons
With our dreams flying upon huge smokes in the skies
Beneath their tables we abridge their creaking jargons
Upon their floors with our generational landmark tiles

The dew drops dropped like old crops upon our brows
To soften the veils falling to the flaming edged swords
The flaming hearted sword of the penetrating sunrays
Born to pluck us alive from our hotly bandaged bruises

684. LET US SPEAK UP

The light is climbing downstairs
And danger is sprouting abroad
Our feet are listening for a word
Let us speak up lest they go deaf

The light is melted on the glades
And terror grazing our eyelashes
Our feet are listening for a word
Let us speak up lest they go deaf

The light is late and lately buried
The mourners are on danger list
Our feet are listening for a word
Let us speak up lest they go deaf

The light has divorced the grave
Her grave clothes are dew dyed
Our feet are listening for a word
Let us speak up lest they go deaf

Silence is a forgotten tombstone
Lost in the din of cold morticians
Our feet are listening for a word
Let us speak up lest they go deaf

685.  THE SUN

The sun smiles on all prescriptively
Like the waves spreading on shores
The green grass glows descriptively
Like the full moon upon dark sores

The sun is a tailor fixing the buttons
Preparing the sky for incoming stars
Like the weaverbird weaving cottons
To conceal the day’s damnable scars

The sun is a marker on diurnal pages
Tall grace he bestows on the flowers
The sun retains his graces for all ages
Bees and butterflies are his followers

Our common laughter is endangered
When sun bows down in big setbacks
All mortals have the starlets fingered
When the night comes on drawbacks

686. UNTIL HERE

(For Lou Lenart and his team)

Their floods came seeking Jewish bloods
Like streams they roared for our dreams
They emerged as columns of soldier ants
Like whirlwinds they zoomed towards us

Until here we were crumbs for the reptiles
Until here we were like airborne cloudlets
But here the sudden change unveiled to us
From here the elusive victory embraced us

With skeletal jets we fought like bold lions
Soared like eagles and spoke like thunders
We conquered columns of invading armies
The bleeding armies turned back and blank

From here we turned from victims to victors
From here enemies’ defeat our greatest feat
Upon this memorable bridge it all happened
Victories leapt upon our pool like joyful frogs

687.  JOY UNLIMITED

The fledging sun offers its rays
And the rays offer golden trays
For our joy a platform to spray
Rowdy paratroops like thunder
To scoop roses from pure oasis

Our joy is ripe upon celebrations
Our celebrations with decorations
Decorations with documentations
Documentations for all generations
Generations in our joyful habitations

688. ANOTER RAINING DAY

The dark clouds are wandering river basins
Spiral bounded by breakable outer casings
The rivers and the seas display empty cups
For the swift blessings descending the tops

The rains come as defense troops’ missiles
And the drowning lands look like imbeciles
Now we are groaning in the watered claws
With the liberated scales marking our flaws

The retreating clouds crawl away in a belch
Dumping the missing cargoes on the beach
The winds bow in a state of shock in a cord
Praying and fasting for a visit from the Lord

689. GRANDMOTHER

Grandmother, please wake and get up
The sky is quarreling with her husband
Soon they will spill their freezing sweat
On our bodies for us to catch dead cold

Grandmother, please sneeze not louder
The sky and her husband are quarreling
Soon they will send old floods like gales
To sweep mankind away from the world

Grandmother, you are everything I have
My moon, my sun and my morning stars
Provoke not the couples with your cough
Lest they refill their greasily wraths again

Grandmother, the big reptiles have come
With their lethal grandchildren following
They are laced with secret burial shrouds
With sympathetic tears tearing their eyes

Grandmother, I kiss you a shaky goodbye
With broken pains roaring within my soul
Grandmother, where are your groundnuts
To conduct my solo heart as you sing away

690.  A NIGHT WALK THROUGH THE FOREST

Lured away on an alluring dream by fables
I trudged along the grassy paths with fears
Upon my steps spilling the prevailing dews
The shadows bowed their heads in silence
Like the soul issued with a death sentence

The night crawlers emerged above boards
Throwing light upon contrary communities
In their hearts and eyes were painful tears
Crawling down their exaggerated eye *****
Like a handbag filled with rotten cosmetics

The shadows were bold animators’ shelves
Stage managing the horror motion pictures
In the ghostly commodities I met wild hosts
Lifeworks evaporated from my fresh breath
Like foreign tragedies in common comedies

The sorrowful shadows cast away their veils
Like the candles letting go of the weird wax
Sadly I sat in the sack for conflicting fetuses
Another sun appeared like a serial divorcee
Counting the testicles of another naked day

691.  SUBJECTIVE SUBJECTS

The sad sun descended upon her haunting melodies
Reeling from mysterious layers for electoral riggings
To harden the flowerbed for flower girls born tender
Disenfranchised voters came weeping in barren polls
Dressing the blank nest for the fat electoral parodies
With the mourners the faulty bells they came ringing
Like the angry water castigating a ****** port fender
And the smokes climbed upon their wide aerial poles
Arching over the emptied shelves with liberal singing
They subjected their subjective subjects to all objects
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
He was blown>>>>
>>>> away_--- from
my lace-up
Is She his blue
Mood tie set any bet
to walk the talk

At your own pace
The lustful wake up she
got the face

The edge of his rim sneaker
So prim who is proper
On the brim of ecstasy
He puts sugar on my tongue

Rumors like the "Talking Heads"
All in the bedding sneaker
Jane of the jungle wild tongue
She races Tarzan swinging sneakers
You and I tripped over dreams the sneaker?
Lip to lip disaster

The "Cyberwar" stepped on melting
Gold *** of tar
The loud blaster she moves the
Starwars so far

He could eat her up
his checkered black and white flag
Like a lobster claw his last draw

The racer mouth sponsor

She was born 2-B that way
sneakers love 3 some run
It's not unusual to have fun
with anyone
Her hands were far gone but
solid as a rock
Rollicking flying his rocket
Racing by her own clock Ms. Hornet


His sneaker loud love feud one
the detail on her sneaker
the wild bird of a bud

He shook me all night long
don't do an
A-C-D-C  on me
The sneaker he got the
Crazy eights
 No prank calls
Her hot buns and
Speaker- Frank-flirters
take me out to the
ball game demonized

The Anti Christ be born again
My sneaker group what a tank full
The Antitank no thanks
You cant always get what you want
and if you try sometimes
Charge all plastic but
sneakers like rubber soul

Visa hot runner Lisa no control
The American Express abdominal press
Shop until she drop's gum-drops
Your head was like a
Rolling Stone Jagger
Bigfoot sneaker Friday 13 size
That girl sweet pea Lea surprise
In the Hell, kitchen she snapped
That purr nightcap like Cleopatra

He's the Mantra so passionate fruit loopier
She's the Mona Lisa unfriendly sneaker
Your happy socks are quick
On his bell-hop feet
The sneaker riddle beat


That long meeting so *******
For time baby blue eyes Frank
on the mic
Like the jitterbug tight-knit
as sneaker print rug
Citron sharp eyes 5 Karat
Spicy hot Chili pepper
poem sonnet

The singer swung
Jazzy sneaker band
Dr. Who wears sneakers drinking
Dr. Pepper

The "Red Apple McIntosh" computer
Such a loud mouth hacker Josh
Jeweled Judy cultured pearls sneaker smash

Or her Stairmaster her
sneaker hotties ruffles have ridges
The juicy burgers dill pickles

Desperately sneaking Susan
sneakers to her affair finish line 
What a Lady Madonna
baby sneakers
at her breast rebel of hearts
I wonder how she manages to
sneaker speed the rest

Her best to out twin any talk
bullseye power walk
Buying the triplex sneaker
The loud talker 4 for 4 fame Wendy
Run like a fugitive your alias
name
Go International quite run
for your money I suppose
His sneakers up on her recliner
It wasn't her better rose
She's the high boot lady ever finer

On E-Bay selling your favorite sneakers
Those Australian Huskies biting sneakers
Such a Paws up against doggone heartbreaker

The in-crowd Flynn or another runner Lynn
Everybody is not a star or wedding crasher
Or even the right sneaker lover

Lady that lives in her homeless shoes
Are we all inside a video game
all commercials

Needing bifocals video begins
 Wynn at Sneaker Con
Joy to the world of the joystick
The sneaker of the Torah prayers of
the Temple
All dots and specs out of sneakers
More zits and pimples
I just want one-half cream
The changing Moon 1/2 Wolf
My man (Mr. Drakar) Howling toenail

French onion soup say cheese
her sneaker what a
no-brainer lightheaded breeze
You come so far sneaker trainer
And a grave site plot famous
brand sneaker
name

A million odds to one name in the
cemetery
****** Mary she flies in her
sneaker like Mary Poppins
Going under the influence
Heres looking at you kid umbrella

Hot Hollywood Taurus Bulldog
runner
We really don't have a name

We are writers and ****
good fighters single to mingle sneaker
Not the homewrecker more like the homemakers
Even sneaker has a voice and walks like singers
Shoeiverse sneaker race
became her living curse
The grin of the Grinch green sneakers
On his sled ride the lucky shamrock

I'm the happy heel
The tigress furry feel skip to my Lou
he ordered the
kids happy meal

Getting a ticket for reckless walking
Lights on or eyes wide shut
Are sneakers running for their life?

More fuel- time we get no alone time
Let's go shopping for the
new sneaker called
(Valentine only) sold one
day the sale
Singing her sneaker song a chip
device to talk back hot male
The 'Calvin Klein" dockers her ball of the foot
tennis sneakers It's her loud Owl ******-hoot

The farm girl Ralph Lauren corral
To rope her in lasso-like with morals
racing horse of different color fashion
I cannot hear you I have a hell
of a tinnitus reaction

  She-Devil bickering.>>> No heart like a sneaker
I am a snake too short to run the mile

I was too busy looking
at her long legs
On the Jet
** Plane
The most popular lady
in her sneakers 

Viper car and strings attachments
Ms. Love lace the shoelaces
with hearts
She is tied to his ankles
like condiments
Like Sweet cherries what a
bomb kicker sneaker
The Southern Belle runner
Be the stunner the trucker roadrunner

Hail to Mary the sneaker
Queen of Sheba
Turn on the radio Country singer Reba
What a sneaker rating ratio

When she bent down the crisscross
Watch out cross my heart trainer

Cross my heart and hope to die
To get slimmer
I am the happy sneaker
all the moods hot goods
(Hey Robin Hood)
stealing a rich man and poor women
which is the witch

One string said pull me the
other one said you feel like a
Chrome lead sleepy feet go to bed

Like Beer and pretzels
What an insane sneaker hazard
Hospital beepers sneaker virus
stepped on the most expensive
Venus, I beg you to run
lips we travel bullets and stars
We just want some fun

Marathon key just one clicker
That strawberry shortcake
Versus the "Cherry Bomb"
The Prince and the Pauper
what a toad kisser
That army tanker hurry up
lunch or brunch
What a Patriot Brady bunch

My shoelaces became like a
firecracker candy bar crunch

Who is the loser lover
or the winner
The long trip almost at the end
of the race
What a rivalry those shot glasses
at random
The sneaker fandom

Smile to me if you're not
wearing anything
but sneakers
My wings the wifi cute feet just
say Hi

No, I saw a man 600 pounds
of Reebok gold way too
much belly roll fat
The Dr. Seuss cat in the hat

Nike in the air Robin
bird skydivers
Dark matter gold diggers
Movie (It) Stephen King
skateboard

Penny feet relaxer
The Wise clown got her
The sneakers comedians
Seinfeld stand up sneaker
To be dead or wed Kleinfeld
Exotic sneakers and
cars he made a home run
Hot hell ring my bell
You made me happy
I got to first base

And you all sync into
one of a kind sneaker
Mom Robin the singer
No, I saw a man-eating
out of his sneaker
His head up in the Nike air
Oh! all hell breaks footloose
computer looking
up the sneaker sales

All I am doing is clicking
with a mouse
Where is my lover
sneaker twin, my spouse
This is about a trip not on an airplane flight more down to earth long walk star gazers or runners and clickers but its a comedy around all names and hot runner shes the firecracker don't  eat her at her game
JAFAR SADIK Oct 2014
When the feud
transmigrated into the mind
the greenness of the poetry
has seared.
Though the seasons
Passed by,
The shoots haven’t seen.
Pain can be inflicted with suffering so great
By Cruelty’s powerful hand
When she heartlessly touches upon your fate
Taking your life, in her command

Now Terror, is Cruelty’s sister in pain
Jealous and filled with hate
She takes great pleasure in helping her reign
Extreme fear, is their helpmate

Compassionate motions of kindness are extended
When generous Mercy steps into view
One can see a graceful clemency offered, unsaid
In his forgiving eyes, of blue

A state of serenity will begin washing you clean
When sweet Peace enters the case
Holding his vision of Mercy steady and keen
A look of tranquility on his face

Let us not ever forget Pity, the one in the fold
Feeling sorrow over your pain
He will always gently extend his hand to hold
As long, as your suffering remains

However, everything changes when Love steps in
More powerful than all the rest
Overcoming the rampage of Cruelty’s reign
I would say, she is the best
Copyright *Neva Flores @2010
www.changefulstorm.blogspot.com
preservationman Sep 2016
Meet any words family
Then meet the sentences family
Words and sentences that will battle it out
Adjectives and verbs that will just shout
Questions having many answers
Sentences that want to prance
Wrong answers being your three chances
Knowing the right words
Have you heard?
Words being their own game show
In case you didn’t, now you know
Words can lead to another
But puzzling answers can become a blunder
Pronouns are the game host
They captivate in being most
Yet seen from coast to coast
Words can be lean
It’s competition, and they can become mean
Word Family Feud
Think hard before you speak
It’s a game show you can win or end up in defeat.
There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men
With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen
Their baaing vanities, to browse away
The comfortable green and juicy hay
From human pastures; or, O torturing fact!
Who, through an idiot blink, will see unpack'd
Fire-branded foxes to sear up and singe
Our gold and ripe-ear'd hopes. With not one tinge
Of sanctuary splendour, not a sight
Able to face an owl's, they still are dight
By the blear-eyed nations in empurpled vests,
And crowns, and turbans. With unladen *******,
Save of blown self-applause, they proudly mount
To their spirit's perch, their being's high account,
Their tiptop nothings, their dull skies, their thrones--
Amid the fierce intoxicating tones
Of trumpets, shoutings, and belabour'd drums,
And sudden cannon. Ah! how all this hums,
In wakeful ears, like uproar past and gone--
Like thunder clouds that spake to Babylon,
And set those old Chaldeans to their tasks.--
Are then regalities all gilded masks?
No, there are throned seats unscalable
But by a patient wing, a constant spell,
Or by ethereal things that, unconfin'd,
Can make a ladder of the eternal wind,
And poise about in cloudy thunder-tents
To watch the abysm-birth of elements.
Aye, 'bove the withering of old-lipp'd Fate
A thousand Powers keep religious state,
In water, fiery realm, and airy bourne;
And, silent as a consecrated urn,
Hold sphery sessions for a season due.
Yet few of these far majesties, ah, few!
Have bared their operations to this globe--
Few, who with gorgeous pageantry enrobe
Our piece of heaven--whose benevolence
Shakes hand with our own Ceres; every sense
Filling with spiritual sweets to plenitude,
As bees gorge full their cells. And, by the feud
'Twixt Nothing and Creation, I here swear,
Eterne Apollo! that thy Sister fair
Is of all these the gentlier-mightiest.
When thy gold breath is misting in the west,
She unobserved steals unto her throne,
And there she sits most meek and most alone;
As if she had not pomp subservient;
As if thine eye, high Poet! was not bent
Towards her with the Muses in thine heart;
As if the ministring stars kept not apart,
Waiting for silver-footed messages.
O Moon! the oldest shades '**** oldest trees
Feel palpitations when thou lookest in:
O Moon! old boughs lisp forth a holier din
The while they feel thine airy fellowship.
Thou dost bless every where, with silver lip
Kissing dead things to life. The sleeping kine,
Couched in thy brightness, dream of fields divine:
Innumerable mountains rise, and rise,
Ambitious for the hallowing of thine eyes;
And yet thy benediction passeth not
One obscure hiding-place, one little spot
Where pleasure may be sent: the nested wren
Has thy fair face within its tranquil ken,
And from beneath a sheltering ivy leaf
Takes glimpses of thee; thou art a relief
To the poor patient oyster, where it sleeps
Within its pearly house.--The mighty deeps,
The monstrous sea is thine--the myriad sea!
O Moon! far-spooming Ocean bows to thee,
And Tellus feels his forehead's cumbrous load.

  Cynthia! where art thou now? What far abode
Of green or silvery bower doth enshrine
Such utmost beauty? Alas, thou dost pine
For one as sorrowful: thy cheek is pale
For one whose cheek is pale: thou dost bewail
His tears, who weeps for thee. Where dost thou sigh?
Ah! surely that light peeps from Vesper's eye,
Or what a thing is love! 'Tis She, but lo!
How chang'd, how full of ache, how gone in woe!
She dies at the thinnest cloud; her loveliness
Is wan on Neptune's blue: yet there's a stress
Of love-spangles, just off yon cape of trees,
Dancing upon the waves, as if to please
The curly foam with amorous influence.
O, not so idle: for down-glancing thence
She fathoms eddies, and runs wild about
O'erwhelming water-courses; scaring out
The thorny sharks from hiding-holes, and fright'ning
Their savage eyes with unaccustomed lightning.
Where will the splendor be content to reach?
O love! how potent hast thou been to teach
Strange journeyings! Wherever beauty dwells,
In gulf or aerie, mountains or deep dells,
In light, in gloom, in star or blazing sun,
Thou pointest out the way, and straight 'tis won.
Amid his toil thou gav'st Leander breath;
Thou leddest Orpheus through the gleams of death;
Thou madest Pluto bear thin element;
And now, O winged Chieftain! thou hast sent
A moon-beam to the deep, deep water-world,
To find Endymion.

                  On gold sand impearl'd
With lily shells, and pebbles milky white,
Poor Cynthia greeted him, and sooth'd her light
Against his pallid face: he felt the charm
To breathlessness, and suddenly a warm
Of his heart's blood: 'twas very sweet; he stay'd
His wandering steps, and half-entranced laid
His head upon a tuft of straggling weeds,
To taste the gentle moon, and freshening beads,
Lashed from the crystal roof by fishes' tails.
And so he kept, until the rosy veils
Mantling the east, by Aurora's peering hand
Were lifted from the water's breast, and fann'd
Into sweet air; and sober'd morning came
Meekly through billows:--when like taper-flame
Left sudden by a dallying breath of air,
He rose in silence, and once more 'gan fare
Along his fated way.

                      Far had he roam'd,
With nothing save the hollow vast, that foam'd
Above, around, and at his feet; save things
More dead than Morpheus' imaginings:
Old rusted anchors, helmets, breast-plates large
Of gone sea-warriors; brazen beaks and targe;
Rudders that for a hundred years had lost
The sway of human hand; gold vase emboss'd
With long-forgotten story, and wherein
No reveller had ever dipp'd a chin
But those of Saturn's vintage; mouldering scrolls,
Writ in the tongue of heaven, by those souls
Who first were on the earth; and sculptures rude
In ponderous stone, developing the mood
Of ancient Nox;--then skeletons of man,
Of beast, behemoth, and leviathan,
And elephant, and eagle, and huge jaw
Of nameless monster. A cold leaden awe
These secrets struck into him; and unless
Dian had chaced away that heaviness,
He might have died: but now, with cheered feel,
He onward kept; wooing these thoughts to steal
About the labyrinth in his soul of love.

  "What is there in thee, Moon! that thou shouldst move
My heart so potently? When yet a child
I oft have dried my tears when thou hast smil'd.
Thou seem'dst my sister: hand in hand we went
From eve to morn across the firmament.
No apples would I gather from the tree,
Till thou hadst cool'd their cheeks deliciously:
No tumbling water ever spake romance,
But when my eyes with thine thereon could dance:
No woods were green enough, no bower divine,
Until thou liftedst up thine eyelids fine:
In sowing time ne'er would I dibble take,
Or drop a seed, till thou wast wide awake;
And, in the summer tide of blossoming,
No one but thee hath heard me blithly sing
And mesh my dewy flowers all the night.
No melody was like a passing spright
If it went not to solemnize thy reign.
Yes, in my boyhood, every joy and pain
By thee were fashion'd to the self-same end;
And as I grew in years, still didst thou blend
With all my ardours: thou wast the deep glen;
Thou wast the mountain-top--the sage's pen--
The poet's harp--the voice of friends--the sun;
Thou wast the river--thou wast glory won;
Thou wast my clarion's blast--thou wast my steed--
My goblet full of wine--my topmost deed:--
Thou wast the charm of women, lovely Moon!
O what a wild and harmonized tune
My spirit struck from all the beautiful!
On some bright essence could I lean, and lull
Myself to immortality: I prest
Nature's soft pillow in a wakeful rest.
But, gentle Orb! there came a nearer bliss--
My strange love came--Felicity's abyss!
She came, and thou didst fade, and fade away--
Yet not entirely; no, thy starry sway
Has been an under-passion to this hour.
Now I begin to feel thine orby power
Is coming fresh upon me: O be kind,
Keep back thine influence, and do not blind
My sovereign vision.--Dearest love, forgive
That I can think away from thee and live!--
Pardon me, airy planet, that I prize
One thought beyond thine argent luxuries!
How far beyond!" At this a surpris'd start
Frosted the springing verdure of his heart;
For as he lifted up his eyes to swear
How his own goddess was past all things fair,
He saw far in the concave green of the sea
An old man sitting calm and peacefully.
Upon a weeded rock this old man sat,
And his white hair was awful, and a mat
Of weeds were cold beneath his cold thin feet;
And, ample as the largest winding-sheet,
A cloak of blue wrapp'd up his aged bones,
O'erwrought with symbols by the deepest groans
Of ambitious magic: every ocean-form
Was woven in with black distinctness; storm,
And calm, and whispering, and hideous roar
Were emblem'd in the woof; with every shape
That skims, or dives, or sleeps, 'twixt cape and cape.
The gulphing whale was like a dot in the spell,
Yet look upon it, and 'twould size and swell
To its huge self; and the minutest fish
Would pass the very hardest gazer's wish,
And show his little eye's anatomy.
Then there was pictur'd the regality
Of Neptune; and the sea nymphs round his state,
In beauteous vassalage, look up and wait.
Beside this old man lay a pearly wand,
And in his lap a book, the which he conn'd
So stedfastly, that the new denizen
Had time to keep him in amazed ken,
To mark these shadowings, and stand in awe.

  The old man rais'd his hoary head and saw
The wilder'd stranger--seeming not to see,
His features were so lifeless. Suddenly
He woke as from a trance; his snow-white brows
Went arching up, and like two magic ploughs
Furrow'd deep wrinkles in his forehead large,
Which kept as fixedly as rocky marge,
Till round his wither'd lips had gone a smile.
Then up he rose, like one whose tedious toil
Had watch'd for years in forlorn hermitage,
Who had not from mid-life to utmost age
Eas'd in one accent his o'er-burden'd soul,
Even to the trees. He rose: he grasp'd his stole,
With convuls'd clenches waving it abroad,
And in a voice of solemn joy, that aw'd
Echo into oblivion, he said:--

  "Thou art the man! Now shall I lay my head
In peace upon my watery pillow: now
Sleep will come smoothly to my weary brow.
O Jove! I shall be young again, be young!
O shell-borne Neptune, I am pierc'd and stung
With new-born life! What shall I do? Where go,
When I have cast this serpent-skin of woe?--
I'll swim to the syrens, and one moment listen
Their melodies, and see their long hair glisten;
Anon upon that giant's arm I'll be,
That writhes about the roots of Sicily:
To northern seas I'll in a twinkling sail,
And mount upon the snortings of a whale
To some black cloud; thence down I'll madly sweep
On forked lightning, to the deepest deep,
Where through some ******* pool I will be hurl'd
With rapture to the other side of the world!
O, I am full of gladness! Sisters three,
I bow full hearted to your old decree!
Yes, every god be thank'd, and power benign,
For I no more shall wither, droop, and pine.
Thou art the man!" Endymion started back
Dismay'd; and, like a wretch from whom the rack
Tortures hot breath, and speech of agony,
Mutter'd: "What lonely death am I to die
In this cold region? Will he let me freeze,
And float my brittle limbs o'er polar seas?
Or will he touch me with his searing hand,
And leave a black memorial on the sand?
Or tear me piece-meal with a bony saw,
And keep me as a chosen food to draw
His magian fish through hated fire and flame?
O misery of hell! resistless, tame,
Am I to be burnt up? No, I will shout,
Until the gods through heaven's blue look out!--
O Tartarus! but some few days agone
Her soft arms were entwining me, and on
Her voice I hung like fruit among green leaves:
Her lips were all my own, and--ah, ripe sheaves
Of happiness! ye on the stubble droop,
But never may be garner'd. I must stoop
My head, and kiss death's foot. Love! love, farewel!
Is there no hope from thee? This horrid spell
Would melt at thy sweet breath.--By Dian's hind
Feeding from her white fingers, on the wind
I see thy streaming hair! and now, by Pan,
I care not for this old mysterious man!"

  He spake, and walking to that aged form,
Look'd high defiance. Lo! his heart 'gan warm
With pity, for the grey-hair'd creature wept.
Had he then wrong'd a heart where sorrow kept?
Had he, though blindly contumelious, brought
Rheum to kind eyes, a sting to human thought,
Convulsion to a mouth of many years?
He had in truth; and he was ripe for tears.
The penitent shower fell, as down he knelt
Before that care-worn sage, who trembling felt
About his large dark locks, and faultering spake:

  "Arise, good youth, for sacred Phoebus' sake!
I know thine inmost *****, and I feel
A very brother's yearning for thee steal
Into mine own: for why? thou openest
The prison gates that have so long opprest
My weary watching. Though thou know'st it not,
Thou art commission'd to this fated spot
For great enfranchisement. O weep no more;
I am a friend to love, to loves of yore:
Aye, hadst thou never lov'd an unknown power
I had been grieving at this joyous hour
But even now most miserable old,
I saw thee, and my blood no longer cold
Gave mighty pulses: in this tottering case
Grew a new heart, which at this moment plays
As dancingly as thine. Be not afraid,
For thou shalt hear this secret all display'd,
Now as we speed towards our joyous task."

  So saying, this young soul in age's mask
Went forward with the Carian side by side:
Resuming quickly thus; while ocean's tide
Hung swollen at their backs, and jewel'd sands
Took silently their foot-prints. "My soul stands
Now past the midway from mortality,
And so I can prepare without a sigh
To tell thee briefly all my joy and pain.
I was a fisher once, upon this main,
And my boat danc'd in every creek and bay;
Rough billows were my home by night and day,--
The sea-gulls not more constant; for I had
No housing from the storm and tempests mad,
But hollow rocks,--and they were palaces
Of silent happiness, of slumberous ease:
Long years of misery have told me so.
Aye, thus it was one thousand years ago.
One thousand years!--Is it then possible
To look so plainly through them? to dispel
A thousand years with backward glance sublime?
To breathe away as 'twere all scummy slime
From off a crystal pool, to see its deep,
And one's own image from the bottom peep?
Yes: now I am no longer wretched thrall,
My long captivity and moanings all
Are but a slime, a thin-pervading ****,
The which I breathe away, and thronging come
Like things of yesterday my youthful pleasures.

  "I touch'd no lute, I sang not, trod no measures:
I was a lonely youth on desert shores.
My sports were lonely, 'mid continuous roars,
And craggy isles, and sea-mew's plaintive cry
Plaining discrepant between sea and sky.
Dolphins were still my playmates; shapes unseen
Would let me feel their scales of gold and green,
Nor be my desolation; and, full oft,
When a dread waterspout had rear'd aloft
Its hungry hugeness, seeming ready ripe
To burst with hoarsest thunderings, and wipe
My life away like a vast sponge of fate,
Some friendly monster, pitying my sad state,
Has dived to its foundations, gulph'd it down,
And left me tossing safely. But the crown
Of all my life was utmost quietude:
More did I love to lie in cavern rude,
Keeping in wait whole days for Neptune's voice,
And if it came at last, hark, and rejoice!
There blush'd no summer eve but I would steer
My skiff along green shelving coasts, to hear
The shepherd's pipe come clear from aery steep,
Mingled with ceaseless bleatings of his sheep:
And never was a day of summer shine,
But I beheld its birth upon the brine:
For I would watch all night to see unfold
Heaven's gates, and Aethon snort his morning gold
Wide o'er the swelling streams: and constantly
At brim of day-tide, on some grassy lea,
My nets would be spread out, and I at rest.
The poor folk of the sea-country I blest
With daily boon of fish most delicate:
They knew not whence this bounty, and elate
Would strew sweet flowers on a sterile beach.

  "Why was I not contented? Wherefore reach
At things which, but for thee, O Latmian!
Had been my dreary death? Fool! I began
To feel distemper'd longings: to desire
The utmost priv
casey douglas Aug 2014
the truth forced a story that only he and she knows
the struggles and ultimate fights that occur regularly
they seem never content without a little disagreement.
they both craved love ,
although both seem to be lusting for different desires
with different flavors,
and different types of taste.
inescapable turmoil
only to be under the sheets of the same bed every night.
V Mar 2018
Two households warranted an aggression for one another for years,
so much so that some weren’t even sure what the Kingsley and
Callahan household feuded over, but among their vivacious
feud they also presented beautiful daughters.

Rebekah Kingsley, a woman of bold nature,
one with locks of hair as dark as that of freshly hardened obsidian,
skin the color of a soft caramel, lips plump,
and taunt cheekbones that seemed to have been sculpted
by the creator towards the heavens themselves.
She was a fearless woman, brave, taking others by storm,
but her passion and capability for love was ever so fervent.

Juliana Callahan, a woman of fine nature,
one with the need to adventure, and soft features that
delicately spawned from the swells of her cheeks,
her doe green eyes, and the petite frame in which she presented.
Juliana had hair the color of freshly fallen hazelnuts,
skin that was the color of a peachy cream,
and lips that were a natural shade of pink that mimicked
roses at the height of their first bloom.

Two women, two powerful components of the family’s
ongoing war found refuge in one another, hiding their identifies
at a masquerade, able to parade around as who they could be,
not who they had to be in public, and their affections were not
warranted, not in such a time period, but that didn’t stop
their immediate connection, the immediate spark of fire that ignited
even when the slightest brush of fingertips aligned
with one another’s exposed collarbones.

They talked, sharing a connection of one they had never found in
another companion, one they had never felt so deeply in
the swells of their hearts and the depth of their beings.
The were infatuated with one another, so lost
within a blissful cloud of desire, lust, and affection.

Their renditions of culture and rules had become obsolete since they
had laid eyes on one another. They had forgotten their rules,
the public strictures that were placed on them,
aspiring to talk to one another, to share words of
love, of affection, and of a deep connection, and they did.
They spoke, realizing that they couldn’t live without one another,
but such an infatuated love couldn’t survive with the ongoing
war between the Kingsley and Callahan family,
no love could break apart a feud that had been so engraved for years.
No love could be accepted, not in a society where
the romance between two lovers was considered unholy
if it were not between a man and a woman.

Such a feud lead to the death of the poor lovers,
one that was tragically poetic of their love, of their story.
Rebekah’s father had found out about the affair,
exalting his energy in kicking her out, shunning her,
making sure to never see her beloved once more,
but the two had already married themselves to one another
since the moment they laid on eyes on each other.
Rebekah couldn’t handle such an outcome,
so she took it upon herself to retrieve her own
means to end her life.

Rebekah harbored a poison, one potent and as strong
as the thorns that clip at ones skin when procuring
a freshly blossomed rose.

The Kingsley Lady let the poison trickle down her throat, staining her lips,
allowing it to seep into her skin.
Juliana found her lover, cold and hardened, lifeless
and inanimate. She kissed her to ingest the poison,
but it had been too late; the poison had layered itself
deeply into Rebekah’s lips.

A cry escaped Juliana’s lips, and then a whimper proceeded
afterwards, revealing the phonetic boundaries of her broken heart, for
she had nothing left, she had no passion,
no love, no desire, no want. Her lover, her supposed bride
laid before her, dead within her arms.
She was weeping heavily, salty tears staining the tenderness of her
rosy cheeks, so Juliana looked to that of her lover’s corpse,
taking the dagger which rested to the left of her.

She reached out, her shivering palm and fingers clasped
around the object, tightening her grasp as she let her eyes
remain attached to Rebekah’s body as tears streamed down
her face at a persistent manner; she brought the blade up,
uttering her love for Rebekah, telling her
“We shall not be parted forever, doth not leave me,”
she whispered with trembling and chapped lips,
plunging the dagger into her chest.
My take on Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet with a gay twist.
preservationman Jul 2015
How much do families know?
Follow me s its going to be a show
There will be laughter so keep it on the down low
A question I would ask, “Name something people should do, but don’t”
The number one answers being, TRY, MOVEMENT, CONFIDENCE, ASSURANCE AND PERUASION
Next question of my own being, “Name something people would do, but can’t”
The top answers, WRITE, TEACH, INFLUENCE, ENCOURAGE, EFFORT and EXPLORE
Many families would say all the wrong answers
It seemed it would be best if a Deer just pranced
All the families thinking on the wrong theory
A game show shouldn’t have its own mystery
Three X’s when a family loses
The other family being more enthused with the idea in being determined in not having a loss
Points awarded in what was on the Family Feud Board
Until next time with more fun
But tonight we are done.
Bailey B Dec 2009
So I've been thinking lately

What if
he's on a journey out to find himself
reading Hemingway and Emerson (his namesake) and roughing it at Walden Pond
smoking foreign cigars
and staring deep into coffee
to decipher the meaning of the swirls of smoke
that rise from it in the morning?
What if
he's asking ChaCha! the meaning of life
or trying out a new brand of shampoo
or attempting to set a high score on Tetris
or out burning down bridges just to see them ablaze
or doing volunteer work,
reading to disabled children at the local library?
What if
he's decided that this is all too much,
that he'd prefer to live in anonymity
trading his celebrity for secretarial work or carrot-harvesting
or breeding exotic fish
or renting out those inflatable jumping-castles?
What if
he's tired of all those books in Technicolor
all the paparazzi out to get him
and commercialize his favorite beanie
just because he's on vacation because he pulled some strings at the office
thus catapulting him into some movie set halfway across the world?
What if he's sick and tired of them hunting down his girlfriend
his dog
that random wizard mentor guy that's a deadringer for Dumbledore?
What if he would rather sit at home and watch the Game Show Network
and change his name to something boring like John instead of living up to a thinker's expectations?
Or maybe just the opposite, he's just watching Family Feud to pass the time because he WANTS to be a thinker
but doesn't know how?
Or maybe Family Feud just makes him lonely because he doesn't have a real family,
just that evil guy with funny glasses and ****** hair and an awful Hamburglar taste in clothes?
What if he's decided he's on the wrong path
and needs to turn his life around?

What if Waldo doesn't want to be found?
Did our friendship mean nothing?
Was the laughter all a lie?
You don't care enough to fix this.
All I want to do is cry.
Tom Leveille Jan 2014
can you explain
what it means
to despise someone?
to frame hate
and hang it on your wall
to count the number of days
lost sleep in your coffee mug
with the aforementioned's
name expensively embroidered on it
an old feud, laid in skin
and memories
so long you no longer remember
what the original sin was
only the feeling endures
an anticlimax
that you could go on
and on for hours about
without rest
so much pathos
teeming under the surface
that you could erupt
in volcanic tantrums
at the sound of a name
the way you clench your fists
until your fingers bite blood
from your palms
over street signs that bring up
old memories
the way you dream
of burning chairs
you heard they sat in
you find solace in the fact
that you are conscious
of this pervasive madness
that you are not tired of
and never will be
BOOK I

     Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,
Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,
Still as the silence round about his lair;
Forest on forest hung above his head
Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there,
Not so much life as on a summer's day
Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass,
But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
A stream went voiceless by, still deadened more
By reason of his fallen divinity
Spreading a shade: the Naiad 'mid her reeds
Press'd her cold finger closer to her lips.

     Along the margin-sand large foot-marks went,
No further than to where his feet had stray'd,
And slept there since.  Upon the sodden ground
His old right hand lay nerveless, listless, dead,
Unsceptred; and his realmless eyes were closed;
While his bow'd head seem'd list'ning to the Earth,
His ancient mother, for some comfort yet.

     It seem'd no force could wake him from his place;
But there came one, who with a kindred hand
Touch'd his wide shoulders, after bending low
With reverence, though to one who knew it not.
She was a Goddess of the infant world;
By her in stature the tall Amazon
Had stood a pigmy's height: she would have ta'en
Achilles by the hair and bent his neck;
Or with a finger stay'd Ixion's wheel.
Her face was large as that of Memphian sphinx,
Pedestal'd haply in a palace court,
When sages look'd to Egypt for their lore.
But oh! how unlike marble was that face:
How beautiful, if sorrow had not made
Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.
There was a listening fear in her regard,
As if calamity had but begun;
As if the vanward clouds of evil days
Had spent their malice, and the sullen rear
Was with its stored thunder labouring up.
One hand she press'd upon that aching spot
Where beats the human heart, as if just there,
Though an immortal, she felt cruel pain:
The other upon Saturn's bended neck
She laid, and to the level of his ear
Leaning with parted lips, some words she spake
In solemn tenor and deep ***** tone:
Some mourning words, which in our feeble tongue
Would come in these like accents; O how frail
To that large utterance of the early Gods!
"Saturn, look up!---though wherefore, poor old King?
I have no comfort for thee, no not one:
I cannot say, 'O wherefore sleepest thou?'
For heaven is parted from thee, and the earth
Knows thee not, thus afflicted, for a God;
And ocean too, with all its solemn noise,
Has from thy sceptre pass'd; and all the air
Is emptied of thine hoary majesty.
Thy thunder, conscious of the new command,
Rumbles reluctant o'er our fallen house;
And thy sharp lightning in unpractised hands
Scorches and burns our once serene domain.
O aching time! O moments big as years!
All as ye pass swell out the monstrous truth,
And press it so upon our weary griefs
That unbelief has not a space to breathe.
Saturn, sleep on:---O thoughtless, why did I
Thus violate thy slumbrous solitude?
Why should I ope thy melancholy eyes?
Saturn, sleep on! while at thy feet I weep."

     As when, upon a tranced summer-night,
Those green-rob'd senators of mighty woods,
Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars,
Dream, and so dream all night without a stir,
Save from one gradual solitary gust
Which comes upon the silence, and dies off,
As if the ebbing air had but one wave;
So came these words and went; the while in tears
She touch'd her fair large forehead to the ground,
Just where her fallen hair might be outspread
A soft and silken mat for Saturn's feet.
One moon, with alteration slow, had shed
Her silver seasons four upon the night,
And still these two were postured motionless,
Like natural sculpture in cathedral cavern;
The frozen God still couchant on the earth,
And the sad Goddess weeping at his feet:
Until at length old Saturn lifted up
His faded eyes, and saw his kingdom gone,
And all the gloom and sorrow ofthe place,
And that fair kneeling Goddess; and then spake,
As with a palsied tongue, and while his beard
Shook horrid with such aspen-malady:
"O tender spouse of gold Hyperion,
Thea, I feel thee ere I see thy face;
Look up, and let me see our doom in it;
Look up, and tell me if this feeble shape
Is Saturn's; tell me, if thou hear'st the voice
Of Saturn; tell me, if this wrinkling brow,
Naked and bare of its great diadem,
Peers like the front of Saturn? Who had power
To make me desolate? Whence came the strength?
How was it nurtur'd to such bursting forth,
While Fate seem'd strangled in my nervous grasp?
But it is so; and I am smother'd up,
And buried from all godlike exercise
Of influence benign on planets pale,
Of admonitions to the winds and seas,
Of peaceful sway above man's harvesting,
And all those acts which Deity supreme
Doth ease its heart of love in.---I am gone
Away from my own *****: I have left
My strong identity, my real self,
Somewhere between the throne, and where I sit
Here on this spot of earth. Search, Thea, search!
Open thine eyes eterne, and sphere them round
Upon all space: space starr'd, and lorn of light;
Space region'd with life-air; and barren void;
Spaces of fire, and all the yawn of hell.---
Search, Thea, search! and tell me, if thou seest
A certain shape or shadow, making way
With wings or chariot fierce to repossess
A heaven he lost erewhile: it must---it must
Be of ripe progress---Saturn must be King.
Yes, there must be a golden victory;
There must be Gods thrown down, and trumpets blown
Of triumph calm, and hymns of festival
Upon the gold clouds metropolitan,
Voices of soft proclaim, and silver stir
Of strings in hollow shells; and there shall be
Beautiful things made new, for the surprise
Of the sky-children; I will give command:
Thea! Thea! Thea! where is Saturn?"
This passion lifted him upon his feet,
And made his hands to struggle in the air,
His Druid locks to shake and ooze with sweat,
His eyes to fever out, his voice to cease.
He stood, and heard not Thea's sobbing deep;
A little time, and then again he ******'d
Utterance thus.---"But cannot I create?
Cannot I form? Cannot I fashion forth
Another world, another universe,
To overbear and crumble this to nought?
Where is another Chaos? Where?"---That word
Found way unto Olympus, and made quake
The rebel three.---Thea was startled up,
And in her bearing was a sort of hope,
As thus she quick-voic'd spake, yet full of awe.

     "This cheers our fallen house: come to our friends,
O Saturn! come away, and give them heart;
I know the covert, for thence came I hither."
Thus brief; then with beseeching eyes she went
With backward footing through the shade a space:
He follow'd, and she turn'd to lead the way
Through aged boughs, that yielded like the mist
Which eagles cleave upmounting from their nest.

     Meanwhile in other realms big tears were shed,
More sorrow like to this, and such like woe,
Too huge for mortal tongue or pen of scribe:
The Titans fierce, self-hid, or prison-bound,
Groan'd for the old allegiance once more,
And listen'd in sharp pain for Saturn's voice.
But one of the whole mammoth-brood still kept
His sov'reigny, and rule, and majesy;---
Blazing Hyperion on his orbed fire
Still sat, still *****'d the incense, teeming up
From man to the sun's God: yet unsecure:
For as among us mortals omens drear
Fright and perplex, so also shuddered he---
Not at dog's howl, or gloom-bird's hated screech,
Or the familiar visiting of one
Upon the first toll of his passing-bell,
Or prophesyings of the midnight lamp;
But horrors, portion'd to a giant nerve,
Oft made Hyperion ache.  His palace bright,
Bastion'd with pyramids of glowing gold,
And touch'd with shade of bronzed obelisks,
Glar'd a blood-red through all its thousand courts,
Arches, and domes, and fiery galleries;
And all its curtains of Aurorian clouds
Flush'd angerly: while sometimes eagles' wings,
Unseen before by Gods or wondering men,
Darken'd the place; and neighing steeds were heard
Not heard before by Gods or wondering men.
Also, when he would taste the spicy wreaths
Of incense, breath'd aloft from sacred hills,
Instead of sweets, his ample palate took
Savor of poisonous brass and metal sick:
And so, when harbor'd in the sleepy west,
After the full completion of fair day,---
For rest divine upon exalted couch,
And slumber in the arms of melody,
He pac'd away the pleasant hours of ease
With stride colossal, on from hall to hall;
While far within each aisle and deep recess,
His winged minions in close clusters stood,
Amaz'd and full offear; like anxious men
Who on wide plains gather in panting troops,
When earthquakes jar their battlements and towers.
Even now, while Saturn, rous'd from icy trance,
Went step for step with Thea through the woods,
Hyperion, leaving twilight in the rear,
Came ***** upon the threshold of the west;
Then, as was wont, his palace-door flew ope
In smoothest silence, save what solemn tubes,
Blown by the serious Zephyrs, gave of sweet
And wandering sounds, slow-breathed melodies;
And like a rose in vermeil tint and shape,
In fragrance soft, and coolness to the eye,
That inlet to severe magnificence
Stood full blown, for the God to enter in.

     He enter'd, but he enter'd full of wrath;
His flaming robes stream'd out beyond his heels,
And gave a roar, as if of earthly fire,
That scar'd away the meek ethereal Hours
And made their dove-wings tremble. On he flared
From stately nave to nave, from vault to vault,
Through bowers of fragrant and enwreathed light,
And diamond-paved lustrous long arcades,
Until he reach'd the great main cupola;
There standing fierce beneath, he stampt his foot,
And from the basements deep to the high towers
Jarr'd his own golden region; and before
The quavering thunder thereupon had ceas'd,
His voice leapt out, despite of godlike curb,
To this result: "O dreams of day and night!
O monstrous forms! O effigies of pain!
O spectres busy in a cold, cold gloom!
O lank-eared phantoms of black-weeded pools!
Why do I know ye? why have I seen ye? why
Is my eternal essence thus distraught
To see and to behold these horrors new?
Saturn is fallen, am I too to fall?
Am I to leave this haven of my rest,
This cradle of my glory, this soft clime,
This calm luxuriance of blissful light,
These crystalline pavilions, and pure fanes,
Of all my lucent empire?  It is left
Deserted, void, nor any haunt of mine.
The blaze, the splendor, and the symmetry,
I cannot see but darkness, death, and darkness.
Even here, into my centre of repose,
The shady visions come to domineer,
Insult, and blind, and stifle up my pomp.---
Fall!---No, by Tellus and her briny robes!
Over the fiery frontier of my realms
I will advance a terrible right arm
Shall scare that infant thunderer, rebel Jove,
And bid old Saturn take his throne again."---
He spake, and ceas'd, the while a heavier threat
Held struggle with his throat but came not forth;
For as in theatres of crowded men
Hubbub increases more they call out "Hush!"
So at Hyperion's words the phantoms pale
Bestirr'd themselves, thrice horrible and cold;
And from the mirror'd level where he stood
A mist arose, as from a scummy marsh.
At this, through all his bulk an agony
Crept gradual, from the feet unto the crown,
Like a lithe serpent vast and muscular
Making slow way, with head and neck convuls'd
From over-strained might.  Releas'd, he fled
To the eastern gates, and full six dewy hours
Before the dawn in season due should blush,
He breath'd fierce breath against the sleepy portals,
Clear'd them of heavy vapours, burst them wide
Suddenly on the ocean's chilly streams.
The planet orb of fire, whereon he rode
Each day from east to west the heavens through,
Spun round in sable curtaining of clouds;
Not therefore veiled quite, blindfold, and hid,
But ever and anon the glancing spheres,
Circles, and arcs, and broad-belting colure,
Glow'd through, and wrought upon the muffling dark
Sweet-shaped lightnings from the nadir deep
Up to the zenith,---hieroglyphics old,
Which sages and keen-eyed astrologers
Then living on the earth, with laboring thought
Won from the gaze of many centuries:
Now lost, save what we find on remnants huge
Of stone, or rnarble swart; their import gone,
Their wisdom long since fled.---Two wings this orb
Possess'd for glory, two fair argent wings,
Ever exalted at the God's approach:
And now, from forth the gloom their plumes immense
Rose, one by one, till all outspreaded were;
While still the dazzling globe maintain'd eclipse,
Awaiting for Hyperion's command.
Fain would he have commanded, fain took throne
And bid the day begin, if but for change.
He might not:---No, though a primeval God:
The sacred seasons might not be disturb'd.
Therefore the operations of the dawn
Stay'd in their birth, even as here 'tis told.
Those silver wings expanded sisterly,
Eager to sail their orb; the porches wide
Open'd upon the dusk demesnes of night
And the bright Titan, phrenzied with new woes,
Unus'd to bend, by hard compulsion bent
His spirit to the sorrow of the time;
And all along a dismal rack of clouds,
Upon the boundaries of day and night,
He stretch'd himself in grief and radiance faint.
There as he lay, the Heaven with its stars
Look'd down on him with pity, and the voice
Of Coelus, from the universal space,
Thus whisper'd low and solemn in his ear:
"O brightest of my children dear, earth-born
And sky-engendered, son of mysteries
All unrevealed even to the powers
Which met at thy creating; at whose joys
And palpitations sweet, and pleasures soft,
I, Coelus, wonder, how they came and whence;
And at the fruits thereof what shapes they be,
Distinct, and visible; symbols divine,
Manifestations of that beauteous life
Diffus'd unseen throughout eternal space:
Of these new-form'd art thou, O brightest child!
Of these, thy brethren and the Goddesses!
There is sad feud among ye, and rebellion
Of son against his sire.  I saw him fall,
I saw my first-born tumbled from his throne!
To me his arms were spread, to me his voice
Found way from forth the thunders round his head!
Pale wox I, and in vapours hid my face.
Art thou, too, near such doom? vague fear there is:
For I have seen my sons most unlike Gods.
Divine ye were created, and divine
In sad demeanour, solemn, undisturb'd,
Unruffled, like high Gods, ye liv'd and ruled:
Now I behold in you fear, hope, and wrath;
Actions of rage and passion; even as
I see them, on the mortal world beneath,
In men who die.---This is the grief, O son!
Sad sign of ruin, sudden dismay, and fall!
Yet do thou strive; as thou art capable,
As thou canst move about, an evident God;
And canst oppose to each malignant hour
Ethereal presence:---I am but a voice;
My life is but the life of winds and tides,
No more than winds and tides can I avail:---
But thou canst.---Be thou therefore in the van
Of circumstance; yea, seize the arrow's barb
Before the tense string murmur.---To the earth!
For there thou wilt find Saturn, and his woes.
Meantime I will keep watch on thy bright sun,
And of thy seasons be a careful nurse."---
Ere half this region-whisper had come down,
Hyperion arose, and on the stars
Lifted his curved lids, and kept them wide
Until it ceas'd; and still he kept them wide:
And still they were the same bright, patient stars.
Then with a slow incline of his broad breast,
Like to a diver in the pearly seas,
Forward he stoop'd over the airy shore,
And plung'd all noiseless into the deep night.

BOOK II

Just at the self-same beat of Time's wide wings
Hyperion slid into the rustled air,
And Saturn gain'd with Thea that sad place
Where Cybele and the bruised Titans mourn'd.
It was a den where no insulting light
Could glimmer on their tears; where their own groans
They felt, but heard not, for the solid roar
Of thunderous waterfalls and torrents hoarse,
Pouring a constant bulk, uncertain where.
Crag jutting forth to crag, and rocks that seem'd
Ever as if just rising from a sleep,
Forehead to forehead held their monstrous horns;
And thus in thousand hugest phantasies
Made a fit roofing to this nest of woe.
Instead of thrones, hard flint they sat upon,
Couches of rugged stone, and slaty ridge
Stubborn'd with iron.  All were not assembled:
Some chain'd in torture, and some wandering.
Caus, and Gyges, and Briareus,
Ty
Against the rubber tongues of cows and the hoeing hands of men
Thistles spike the summer air
And crackle open under a blue-black pressure.

Every one a revengeful burst
Of resurrection, a grasphed fistful
Of splintered weapons and Icelandic frost ****** up

From the underground stain of a decayed Viking.
They are like pale hair and the gutturals of dialects.
Every one manages a plume of blood.

Then they grow grey like men.
Mown down, it is a feud. Their sons appear
Stiff with weapons, fighting back over the same ground.
I feel like I'm living in a circle,
because I've been here before -
From a bright angel
to a goddess *****.
I am not happy,
but I am not sad..
Indifferent maybe, just a tad.
It's been a while
since I've seen this place.
It feels kind of good,
like my own outer space;
A mystery,
but one I've already solved.
So is this part two?
Or has it yet to dissolve?
It's like the Dark Ages,
but my darkness is home.
When I leave:
merely a temporary roam.
If I cannot bathe in evil
and I cannot eat the gold,
then I must do something
before I unfold.
Twisted as twine
and blank as a slate,
liking it here,
but planning escape.
Jude kyrie Dec 2018
Neither one of them knew when the rivalry began.
It was certainly in their infancy.
Rachel Huntington was twenty
a star scholar at Oxford university.
Matthew fotheringham was the same age
also a star scholar  
They excelled in the study of English literature
having read all of the aincent and modern classics in high school.
It was known that saint Hilda's college at Oxford
regarded Rachel as  the most  gifted student
they had seen for years.
In his group the same was said for Matthew.

They shared the same advanced literature class
and the tension between then was palatable.
She would put forward a proposition
on Shakespeare repeated usage of
Iambic pentameter.
And Matthew would destroy her concept
with a detailed analysis of his works.

Have you been  cribbing with Cole's notes
he would add in disdain.
Rebecca hated him
calling him insufferably conceited and a total buffoon.

He once went to her dorm
to pick up an ancient script
she had borrowed from the library , the only copy.
He phoned from the hall
shall I come up to your room
And pick it up.
Rachel shouted No!
I will bring it down to you.
You are never to come up to my dorm.
It's not that I wouldn't allow a man up here
But if anyone were to see you leaving
and got the wrong idea.
I don't want them to think I have no taste
and low standards in boyfriends.
And that's how it went on.

Then the literature guilds competition had been announced
Scholars from all over Europe
were to present their essays of no less than 25 thousand words and the winner would receive 25 thousand guineas
but more importantly that opened the door
to the chairs of literature all through the continent.

The rivalry escalation was at fever pitch.
Matthew worked  75. Hour weeks on his essay
Rachelle kept up with him never wasting a single moment.
The class bookmaker has had narrow odds on the winner it one of these two.

They went to the presentation hall
and entered the book sized essays
sealed in manilla envelopes
Rachel quipped,you don't have a chance,
you couldn't copy mine.
Matthew said,
I hope they don't use the new plagiarism software
you have probably stole yours from the internet.
I already have made plans for my winnings he bragged.
What a good plated pocket protector
and  a girl friend you just add air too.
Matthew was hurt
Particularly at the insult
that he had a blow up plastic girlfriend.
He remembered humor was the best defence
it showed they could not hurt you.
I only bought her for driving
on the diamond lanes on the highway.
Anyhoo nothing happened between us
until that last night of term
When we drank too much wine.
Rachel walked off in disgust
As he yelled so all could here
She's better in bed than you will ever be .

It was two weeks to the announcement of the contest winners.
No use worrying about it Matthew said
He went for a long evening stroll by the river.
As he turned on the river bend he saw Rachel
She was crying say beneath a huge willow tree.

For once he did not have a smart quip or an insult.
He walked to her and sat down next to her.
Why are you weeping ? Rachel he asked gently.
She had never ever heard his voice so soft.
My father died last night. She sobbed.
It occurred to Matthew he knew nothing of her life.
I am so sorry what happened
He was the clergyman at Saint Monica's Anglican Church
He had cancer and never let me know.
It had taken all his savings to get me through Oxford.
And he did not want me to lose focus.
Then she wept freely
Matthew held her close to him she wept on his his shoulder
His fingers gently touched her reddish auburn hair.
It was soft she smelt of lavender soap it was nice.
I ...I have to go to Stow  on the wold, tomorrow for the funeral.
I shall take you there
Do you have a car she asked.
Yes I have a twenty year old MG convertible.
My dad bought me when I got into Oxford.
It was arranged he picked her up
and off to the funeral they went .

He never felt as comfortable
or comforting in all his life.
He was seeing her in a new light
after all the stupid years.
They arrived at the old vicarage
Mrs Evans the housekeeper hugged them both
It's about time you got your pretty nose
out of those old dusty books
And got yourself a boyfriend.
The weird part was neither one of them
corrected Mrs Evans.

The funeral took place
And they set back along the old country roads to the university.
They talked about literature art poets and writers.
Then the old engine conked out.
Miles from anywhere
You need to go get petrol she said.

But there's no station between here and Oxford said Michael.
The phone signal was not reaching them.
We have to sleep in the car for the night.
Rachel said as long as you don't get any ideas.
You are not my type.

He was going to tell her she was his type
but said nothing.
It was freezing in the night Rachel was shivering
He took off his coat and jacket
and put them over her in the back seat
As he shivered frozen in the front seat.

In the early morning they woke up
She stepped out of the car and stretched
Matthew was on one knee in front of her
What are doing she asked?
What does it look like I am doing ?
I am proposing that you become my wife.
Never! never! never !
After all the insults you have laid upon me.
Well I'm I'm sorry he whispered.
Not good enough she shouted.

Do you have the guts to make a bet with me Matthew asked.?
Her reddish hair answered the challenge
Just try me.
OK if I win the award you will become my wife.
If I win then you get lost and marry the blow up lady.she countered.
Well the challenge was a tough one
If she did not accept it it was saying he was smarter than her and she knew it.
If she accepted it was the opposite.
OK you have a deal.

A week later Matthew was working in the library
The prize winners are being posted on the notice board.
He felt a gasp in his chest
As he reached the crowd of students he saw Rachel
She even had a trace of makeup on she was now
Getting to look beautiful to him.
Good luck rachel he whispered I hope you win.
She knew he meant it but she remembered the wager.
She said softly I hope it's you that wins Mathew.
A young woman rushed out of the crowd
Rachelle you won you won.
Mathews heart sank
Congratulations Rachel I am so happy for you.
She felt a tear selling in her eye
Mathew where are you going she said.
You told me to go And marry my send away lady
that you just add air to.
If I lost the bet and you won Rachel.
And her heart sank in her chest.

Then the young woman saw him
Matthew congratulations you won.
She showed him a copy of the winners notice.
It had a note
In all the years of the competition we have never had two such magnificent essays
The adjudicator's were unable to mark one better than the other
We have shared the prize to two winners for the very first time.
Rachel held Mathew close and kissed him fully and hard.
Not caring who was watching.
He kissed her back
The crowd were astonished
their feud was legendary at Oxford.


Two years later.

Matthew strolled in the park with the twins
and his beloved wife Rachel.
She had married him
a week after the award ceremony at Oxford.
It was said in the coffee room that the university
had never had two professors
as much in love as them
they were now both  teaching in the English department
and we're already in competition for their tenure.
But they never spent a moment appart.

He picked up the twins
and shouted his love for Rachel
on the top of his voice.
The evening breeze picked up the perfume
of the fallen leaves.
Rachel smiled at him
and whispered softly
I love you too dearest.

She felt him slip into that private room in her heart
that she always saved for her soulmate
As he entered the room holding their two babies.
She locked the door behind him
with the only key that existed.
And then she threw it
into the dense woodlands of Oxfordshire
Never to found again.
Opposites yet so alike .
The best kind of connection.
Jude
Taylor Martin Jul 2013
I used to play with toys, making boxcars crawl
Now I play with words until footsteps sound from the hall
Come to greet me, see what's there
Seven feet of cold despair
Six pack of soda, six seconds of looking at the birds
Then he goes, and I turn up the noise and turn back to my words
But my thoughts are jumbled and lost
Like French fries at the bottom of the bag
Fingers crossed
That the leafy green atop the grease will prolong my playful days
Not for Bambi or Snow White, but for all the different ways
That I can place my words and save them
Like the lifeguard guards a life
That I may find a voice to raise them
Like the hunter lifts a knife
Because words are cherished playthings
Which fly on paper wings
Until I'm called away and the words must go to sleep
I'l write them here so they may be your very own to keep
First in a series called "Feud," in which every poem includes the ten responses given in a different round of Fast Money on Family Feud. I think I'm gonna allow myself to drop one or two responses from each set, because sometimes it's just ******. Omitted from this poem are "salad" and "actor."
Wrote this a couple months ago as well. Turns out there's a lot that I've written and stored away and forgotten about.
Jared Eli Dec 2013
There once was a boy who was but a slender
Line in a portrait or a smudge on a fender
Nothing more than would be passed by your eye
Was the boy so young who did nothing but cry

The world was a cruel one, but he wasn't so tainted
His picture more perfect than of David's statue painted
But the world would soon tear this boy apart
It would end in the mind what began in the heart

You see, innocence thrives where ignorance rules
For blissfulness is the kindest of the ignorant's tools
But this boy would be taught to feel and to hurt
His tears turned to ash as they fall from lips to dirt

He was now cold and ****** and swore
His opinions had changed when his brother died in the war
There was no point to heaven and less point to hell
When they called out your name, you either stood up or fell

Chipped bricks covered in posters past
Graffiti from people of phrases that last
Like one-liners, humourless, gaining a laugh
And the three-word with the sketch of a heart cut in half

The best philosophes of this past generation
Write thoughts on the wall from their closed imagination
And the boy with his eyes red grew darker
As he reached in his pocket and pulled out a marker

With a couple quick slashes a ballot was drawn
And he labeled the man in the voting booth "pawn"
Underneath it he wrote what might be a phrase
That just didn't catch on in those olden days:

It said, "A stone cast down as in defeat
Will hit thine foot before the street
For he who gives up his voting right
Will have no say in where we fight."

The boy capped the pen and he walked away
He had written down all that he wanted to say
His hands now were smudged from the marks on the wall
And he thought to himself, "In short time, it'll fall"

Right around the corner he was halted by the law
"You thought no one was watching, but guess what, kid? I saw.
The truth is, you're right, we vote for our wars
But the man up on top of the nation? He's yours."

The boy smiled slightly, for this cop was wrong
And he reached deep past the tears in himself to be strong
"That man isn't mine; he approved of this war
And congress has made my brother break the oath that he swore"

The cop looked at boy and the boy at the cop
They weren't talking graffiti, but the man up on top
Two strangers, two people, agreeing the fact
That the choice on the ballot was a serious act

"Most kids don't realize just what a vote can mean
They don't attribute the choice to the step in between
Old ideas corrupted or improved upon
All they know is their voice can make the other guy gone"

The boy nodded and looked the cop right in the eye
Saying, "This president let my brother ship out to die
If you try to make us think that his empathy wasn't fake
Contradiction in contrite diction will no conviction make

"You can't justify death because the harder you try
The more your arguments fade like the clouds in the sky
But before they dissolve and assimilate with the air
They leave behind pain to show that they were there"

The cop nodded, waved, and went back to the beat
More hoodlums and lost souls to help off the street
He passed a dark alley and his instincts erupted
His mind yelling to him, "Check for something corrupted!"

So he turned down in darkness to check out the spot
It looked like a place where blackmarket is hot
The fungus and mold that once grew peeled off
Leaving yellowish stains and the urge to cough

A voice near the brickwork called out saying, "Hey,"
"If it's not to much trouble, mister, couldja stay?
See honest to goodness, mister, I tried to stay clean
But when you take your own product, separation is mean"

"I don't know exactly who is to blame"
Said cop to the girl he could see but not name
"There's no one to blame," said the girl to the man
"There's things that will happen, and with time they all can

"For a creature that thrives on flesh alone
Will bite through the skin to steal the bone
And he must be careful, lest he find
That he's been feasting upon his own behind"

"Yes, sometimes it's true: Desire drives us too fast
Sometimes to places where sanity's long since passed
But sanity's fleeting and must be sought after
Come; let me find you some lodgings and laughter"

"No, mister! I'm a lost cause, my fate's without hope!
Permit me now to symbolize: I'm at the end of my rope!"
"Now miss don't you think like that, No one's soldered to their fate
Such thinking will confine you like a cage with bitter bait!"

This world's harsh and confusing and you've had the short stick
But don't let hopelessness be the only thing that's gonna make you tick
Like treading water in the ocean, panic makes you die
Find beauty out of terror, spread your arms and fly!"

The girl sat there blinking. She'd never heard such talk
She'd never been another thought on anybody's walk
"Now let me tell you, I'm not short on self doubt
But I've got to say: that's not what it's all about

See I met this boy earlier, who told me his story
About how the status of the world often makes him worry
This boy's actin' out, but he'll turn out just fine
But if you're giving up hope, then you're crossing the line

Because we've never needed Merry Men and Robin Hood
To stand up at bugle-call to turn the world good
We just need to remember: We're in it forever!
Fight the urge to look upward and shout angrily, 'Never!'

The world, good and bad, is mixed unto itself
And you can't take you your recipe book from the shelf
And add pinches of falsehoods like seasonings for a mask
You must fix it internally, for that is your task

See, though you've given up, that's something I just won't allow
You're gonna go out and fix it, let somebody show you how
Because there's more than one way to a proper conclusion
Some ways are hard and still others illusion

But become obsessed with the truth, with doin' things right
Become a shining green beacon to lead others at night
Promise me, here and now, in this alley proclaim!
That you will set forth and make good of your name."

The girl gently nodded and as time's hands were wound
She grew like a flower from that dank piece of ground
It's the tiny conversations that can so alter life
And cut the crust of complication like a peace-bringing knife

The boy with his brother who'd gone up in the fight
Was just like the cop said: he turned out alright
He put his mind to better things, gave up the childish art
And in the realm of history, his bio did its part

Because he realized how tangible the change he wanted was
He set aside resentments as the true reformer does
He spoke of love, acceptance. . . And then switched to compromise
Because when you're just a visionary, the vision always dies

He used the good and bad to weld a better, stronger, net
To catch the lost and lonely, his was the best support to get
He filled the heads of others with the change that he once viewed
And little inch by little inch corruption and violence met with feud

A verbal dispute filled with picketing people
Who shouted, "Change!" from their electronic steeple
And the media members had themselves a field day
As they caught on the camera what the boy had to say:

"Too often we forget, that apathy isn't peace
But we allow ourselves to be served it by the leaders filled with grease
And we skip along, ignoring things that should rightly upset us
Bombs abroad are wholly fine but not the one that's gonna get us

We've got to think of the whole picture, got to figure out the puzzle
Though you think the lion's fierce, it always has time to nuzzle
So let's switch the view and take on that trait
And put aside the thought that nuzzling can wait."

The cop saw the boy who was on T.V.
And said to himself, "that kid talked to me!
He smiled a bit, "his speech is pleasing as a wren
And in the case of my boasting, I'll say I knew him when!"

The girl wasn't taped, but she was out changing lives
By having conversations that we've likened to knives
And so it was when time was up on the impending revolution
Armed with words she voyaged forth to fufill her resolution

The boy and she stood side by side and led the people on
And using power words of choice, the old regime was gone
What started out as compromise, effloresced to peace and love
And the cop the two had talked to nodded at boy and girl above

A change in heart, a change in mind, can spark a worldly change
Though originality is difficult, ideas can rearrange
To fit the modern times, and indeed to mold it best
And the answer's sometimes difficult, but as we all know: life's a test

This boy and girl were lost, then found, and so was their whole world
And their string of conversations were around their finger curled
Reminding them that there was out there a better way to live
And revolution was the message that the cop had had to give
Morrey Nov 2010
They took their arms
and faced the ground
who will rise and who will fall?
the flare is up and now it starts
until the end, until were done.
A fire began
and the night is longer than it used to be
pitch black but it's clear
the smokes and fog are terrible
yet the world is fast asleep
before the dawn breaks
before the sun shines
one goal will be certain
one feud will be settled
I'm alive, I know I am
with one more gasp
I faced the ground
Goodnight..
*Goodnight..
11-10-10
Joseph Hart Jul 2014
Little shards of paper
that haunt my passing mood,
I see it's true, it's dead alright,
some decade withered feud.

And yet the paper scrawled and mangled
spells a definite end for thee,
and as I look between those lines,
freedom, there'll be, for me.
Brian Fahey Jul 2015
There once was a pond off the Astrillian shore,
Where a billion clams lay underwater, they snored,
Day after day, tides change to tides,
Yet the life of a clam is still quite a bore.

Until one day an otter, all spryly and nimble,
A prince from the infamous pool down the thimble,
Crossed the old straight with his men through mud and through wimble.

Valiantly striding his conquest was simple,
Representing his people in search of a love life to kindle.
He was quirky, and boisterous, and hard to ignore,

Splashing and thrashing about the good peoples shore,
A good lookin' pup, he swam round in circles,
Converting the Astrillian Algaeans to Murkles.

The clams weren't slow to catch on to the show,
For clams are very attentive you know,
And soon by council & seminar they mouth-fulled their garbles,

"Who yonder this monkey that endlessly wharbles?"
"Are you daft kind sirs?" asks one clam as she snarbles,
"It seems you old men have lost all your marbles,

That is the otter, his highness all the way from Port Schwarble!
He only plays cowbell, throws barbells, and a million such marvels,
It's an Astrillian holiday as far as I yarble, hmm"

She stops,
It's indeed very clear she's been pinned as kalopsious,

"My dear" one clammy clam-clam firmly speaks,
"I see your 'kidz-bop' as they say has given you gleecks,
Your highness, is an otter, we'll be extinct within weeks"

The elders agree and farble on lke sheep,
"The end is near!" the little ones squeak,

But none brave as Mandy,
This little clam candy,
Would even think that moving was handy,

Why, confronting a prince sounds totally dandy,
So she pipped and she chupped,
Getting the elders all sandy.

As she made her way up to her prince, who was also quite randy.
Approaching her man of a million wonders,
She squeaked a fine hello over his rambunctious thunder.

He stopped and observed,
"What is this, hors' doeurves?"
He plucked her and licked her, obviously deterred,

When she snarbled and blushed ignoring the blunder,
"My name is Mandy the First, from the land of down under,

She smiled as he turned to his squire,
"A fine maiden to invite to the royal dinner," laughing they snired.
"I caught wind of your plans to marry" she twinkled,
"I just thought that I'd say that I'm young and I'm single,"

And with a wink she gave off her lady like signal.
The squire scoffed at the lady so simple,
"May I remind you ma'am, this is the prince from the pool down the thimble.
He's come all this way through mud and through wimble,
In search of a maiden to love and ne'er let dwindle,
Yet this peasant clam reminds me of a fire in my belly, so long ago kindled,"

He snirped, Mandy quirped as the prince caressed her dimple,
"You'll not lay your paws on her or her people,
This girl is totally braver than you and our sheeple!
It is decided that I'll be bringing her all the way to the steeple."

The squire grumbled a pox on both sides,
"You princox, we haven't eaten since Ides,
If you really cared so much for your lady,
Then let us first feast on her friends and their babies,
For what is a wedding if we're all riddled with hunger and rabies?"

"Nay squire, for you are a bigger one,
Your princoxious gluttony far exceeds the range of the Astrillian Sun"
"Ooooooooohh!!" his guards hollered and bothered, oh but he wasn't done,

"If you really care for your stomach all the sudden,
Then come at me brother, make me your wet monkey mutton.
See if I care for your metabolic process, you square,
For nothing could separate me from my princess so fair."

And so they charged and they barged and splashed all about her,
As his guards cheered them on into brotherly slaughter,
Witnessing the madness, Mandy would rather be chowder.

As she quietly wept for her hunk of an otter,
She noticed the elders behind her surface the water.
"What do you want?!" snobbing she totally snared,

The elders snooted and bitterly declared,

"We warned you," they flarbed,
"Their kind is brutish and dull," they spat from afar,
"The feud between peoples is older than tar"

Mandy flushed beet red and crying she clacked,
"Your ignorance prevails clams, for that is your only knack,
This man loves me and I love him right back,
In fact he's saving us all from becoming a snack.
And if he succeeds I'll never see you again,

I'll never work your sand-bars, or attend colleges of mermen.
I'll never sing songs or clean up your dens,
And you'll all just be grumpy old clams forever, and then,
When I am queen I will not be so mean.

I will unite all the clamsfolk with our predators keen,
We shall not be afraid and they shall not come to prey,
And who knows maybe we'll all get along someday,"

And with that, the squire cried "Uncle!"
And the prince let go of his sleeper-hold struggle,

"Now will you praise your lady you poor jester thuggle?"
"I do, I do your highness, til death I shall juggle."
And so the otters and clams conjoined the whole island,

With only some leftover haters to beguile,
And within seven days time
People gave up on fear,

Threw out their hunger,
And then it became clear,
With only time left to ponder,

As the big day came near,
At the cathedral they concluded that love lasts much longer,
That really,

Whether one be a clam or an otter,
It is only together that we shall become stronger.
senior year creative writing poem.
from Adroaldo

My brother,
my dear brother,
good Morning!
The dawn
show in your face
and shine in your life!
His days
are rich
of joy.
My love
and baby
Brother,
We are alive!
I have to tell you:
we are alive!
You
are not
alone!
You're
in my heart
and in my soul.
You're
Inside of me
and in the reflection of water.
You are a part of me
and I'm part
from you!
We are one
among
all others.
We do not
we are
alone.
That day
witness
our birth!
The dawn
realizes
our existence!
The fields
receive
our steps!
The world
to accept
our presence!
My brother,
my dear
and beloved brother,
there are times
I try to tell you
One thing:
I am here!
Listen to me:
I am here!
You
are not
alone!
I need
hopelessly
from you.
I need
hopelessly
know you.
I need
hopelessly
being with you!
My brother,
my dear
and beloved brother,
My tent
It's open
To you
If you want
hide yourself
this cold night.
My tent
it’s open
to you
if you want
trick
the fury of the wolves.
My heart
it’s on
to your heart.
My blood
is red
just like yours.
Nor time
cannot
erase it.
Neither life
can erase
that.
My brother,
who will be you
in this crowd?
Embrace the truth
or will be
Illusion?
My brother,
my dear
and beloved brother,
realizes
the darkness
to come?
Realizes
the evil
now it is growing?
Hear the sound
thunder
far!
Hear the sound
saxophones
far!
Listening
the beating of wings
Grasshoppers!
Listen
to the shouts of the
angry mob!
The crowd
chasing
the insistent
hunger
for blood
between his teeth.
Everybody wants
a piece
of us.
Everyone wants
a pound
of our flesh.
They come
during
at night.
They come
during
the day.
They
never
sleep.
They
never
give up.
I see only
hate
in your eyes.
I see only
rebellion
in your eyes.
They are born
the murmurings
and strife.
They are the result
of anger
and hypocrisy.
They venerate
marble
idols.
Idols of gold,
silver
and bronze.
They cry out
a piece
of our land.
They require
even the sweat
of our foreheads.
No food
in this land
to sustain
for your
hunger
it is rampant.
There blanket
in this land
that heat
for your heart
it is the winter cold
more extreme.
There is no justice
in this land
satisfying
for expect
the greater evil
always prevail.
There is no reason
for none of this
happen
and yet
all
it happens!
Who
put our brothers
against us?
Who
he puts us against
our own brothers?
Who on this earth,
really,
It's us?
Who on this earth,
Really,
are they?
Who knows
which side is the
mirror?
All this hatred
not born alone
in the dunes.
All this anger
it does not grow alone
in the sand.
So who hate us so much
dearly beloved
brother?
Who, long ago
has played in
against each other?
My brother,
my dear
and beloved brother,
someone, some time ago,
steals
all our cattle.
Someone, long ago
defiles
all our water.
Someone, some time ago
assaults
our dreams.
Someone, some time ago
Burn
all that's left us.
However, those who hate us
such a long time
beloved brother?
The guilt
all this
It is not yours.
The guilt
all this
It is not mine.
So who will
In fact,
all the blame?
Who will be,
after all, our
single accuser?
Who is coming
to steal
all our breath?
Who is coming
to destroy
our hopes?
Who
was born
a feud?
Who
was born
a simple lie?
Who crawls
among the lizards
desert?
Who conversation
with the stars
Infinity?
Who plot
against their
own brothers?
Who blasphemes
in the heavens
and the creator himself?
Who will be
our biggest
Killer?
Who will be
our biggest
opponent?
Who will be
our brother
unknown?
Who will go
breaking the silence
in this order so violent?
My brother,
I beg you to save me
these ***** streets.
I beg you to hold me
tonight
so cold and so dark.
I beg you to grant me
a simple prayer
in this momentary silence.
Someone plot
constantly
against us.
Someone
Want to see
our end.
My brother,
dearly beloved
brother,
Hug me
when the wind
It is too cold.
Hug me
when you hear
my sigh of pain.
My hands
tremble
cold and fear.
My bones
tremble
cold and fear.
My brother,
where will you be
Now?
You will be
inside cars
passing fast.
You will be
in shop windows
of expensive clothes shops.
You will be
the billboards neon
in downtown.
You will be
in advertisements
famous brand.
Where you
will,
my beloved brother?
The sound
thunder
gets closer!
Almost
explode
my heart!
My bones
tremble
cold and fear.
I hope
for something
not owes me explanation.
I hope
for something
I do not understand.
I hope
for something
it is a revelation.
May
arise
among cacti.
Surely,
grow
among the burned grass.
Maybe
it’s only
a dream.
Perhaps
more
a desire hidden.
My brother,
in this special day,
who will you be today.
In this special day,
where is
you today?
It will be you,
my brother,
my only friend.
It will be you,
my brother,
my greatest enemy?
Will you
brother, beside me
in this cold night?
Will you
Brother, with
in the angry mob?
My brother,
my dear
and beloved brother,
It will be you
That
Sleeping out in the open?
It will be you
that one that
Fight against the cold?
It will be you
that
you face the wolves.
It will be you
that
that protects your?
Who will be
You
my dear and beloved brother?
My brother,
I implore
receiving me.
My brother,
I beg
to listen to me.
My dear
and beloved brother,
accept me!
Notice me,
understand me
and shelter me.
Accept me
the way
that I am!
I receive
in his tent
on that cold night.
Accept me
Open arms
that night so dark.
I may welcome
in these days
so dark.
Protect me
these days
so terrible.
My love
and dear brother,
Hug me.
I need
much
you hold me.
I need
the air
you breathe.
I need
address
of your steps.
I need
hear
your hoarsely
same
whatever
for a moment fiddling.
Same
whatever
for a second measly.
It
does not say
absolutely anything.
It
tells me
absolutely everything.
I need
to listen
I open my heart
Even if
only
for a second.
My brother,
My dear
and beloved brother,
I feel
all the cold
ahead.
I see
all fear
what is not explained.
I need
so much
from you!
I need
that you
be around here
and warm me
If this cold
Persist.
I need
that you
protect me
case
all evil
I reach.
I need
so much
from you!
I need
to guide me
in this dense night.
I need
that hides me
the hungry wolves.
dissipating
all
my fears,
to wash
all
my sins,
to dry
even
my tears,
that fight
By me
with all his strength.
I need
both of you,
my dear brother.
I like both
powers play
his face again.
I would love
feeling
the skin again.
I need to both
hear
your voice again.
I need
to feel
your presence again.
I need
you to hold me;
and that this embrace is sincere.
I need you
to tell me
not to be afraid anymore.
I need you
to tell me
that will be all right!
The sound of thunder
It's deafening
and if ever closer.
The hunger of wolves
ceases neither
with the dawn.
I see whole cities
ablaze
on fire.
I see the darkness
blacker
take shape quickly.
I see food to perdition
satisfied
a flock of sheep.
I see the flock embrace the night
and join
in the pack.
I see wolves
and sheep
fraternizing.
I see them embrace
the full evil
in a night deal.
Before my eyes
finally
I see the end unfolding.
I hear the sound of thunder
finally
in its fullness.
There is no more
sell some
in my eyes.
I see millions
issuing his last breath
before my eyes.
My brother,
my dear and beloved
Brother,
how can I say
how much
I love you?
How can I say
how much
you’ll be missed?
How can I say
how much
I loved you in life?
How do I look
in your eyes
knowing that never see you?
Who put
this blood
in my hands?
Who put
this weapon
in my hands?
My dear
and loved
brother,
at where
will be
you?
Will be
you
in the cotton fields?
Will be
you
coal mines?
Will be
you
in the bar tables?
Will be
you
in lullabies?
Will be
you
the stone dungeons?
Will be
you
the yellow pages?
Will be
you
in the desert mountains?
Will be
you
in concrete forests?
Will be
you
in love letters?
Will be
you
in horror stories?
Will be
you
among the persecuted
or is
In between
Persecutors?
Will you
In between
The empty belly
or are
In between
who has everything?
Will you
In between
the most popular
or is
In between
Disposable?
Will you
In between
settlers
or is
In between
Colonized?
My brother,
my dear
And beloved brother,
will you
In between
Elected?
Will you
In between
The unfortunates?
Embrace
my
problems,
embrace
my
fights,
embrace
my
­­tears,
embrace
my
hiccups,
embrace
my
scars,
I pray that the Lord
in receive
open arms.
May the Lord
the accepted
at the end.
The King of kings
in receives
in his Kingdom.
I can hold you
finally
without fear.
I can love you
finally
without fear.
May we
we
to recognize
simply
as...

Brothers!
She was a Hatfield
And I  a McCoy
It was just love beween
A girl and a boy

Our daddies grandaddies
And those from before
Might think us irreverant
To open that door

She lived two towns over
It was love at first sight....
We would slip out and meet
Every Sat. night
The neighbors all thought
It just wasn't right
But we were in love
And it wasn't our fight

Only two counties apart
She lived in West V
My home was Kentucky
The suitor was me

To us it was foolish
The feud was so old
Even though it was famous
From the tales that were told

She lived two towns over
It was love at first sight....
We would slip out and meet
Every Sat. night
The neighbors all thought
It just wasn't right
But we were in love
And it wasn't our fight


We'd meet after dark
At a barn down the line
We were not feuding people
For that night she was mine

We would run off together
After school was complete
We'd change both our names
We would be real discreet

She lived two towns over
It was love at first sight....
We would slip out and meet
Every Sat. night
The neighbors all thought
It just wasn't right
But we were in love
And it wasn't our fight

Our folks would reject us
And spoil our joy
Cause here was a Hatfield
With a real McCoy

For now, we'll be secret
Share our love cross the fence
And we'll wait till our kin folk
Wake up with some sense
She knelt and she pleaded
For a world of peace
She knelt and she pleaded
To save a friend in need

She fought for what is right
While giving all her power and might
Yet there's still the anger
Gripping her tight

It hurt her
To see how her world is fooled
By a prideful man
Who continues the feud

She has accepted the offer
Of death itself
For she knows who she is

And she is the **Mockingjay
Bc I love the movie <3
fluffyunicorn21 Aug 2015
Long ago when times were tough
the fight against their father was rough.
They were given their titles.
The youngest was extremely jealous and tried to take over,
he failed as the eldest ruled.
The middle child had more grace and dignity then the rest,
But the eldest had all the power.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
.too dumb, it would seem, to evolve into a bilingualism, but then... somehow, miraculously, able to dictate censoring the origins story, while at the same time dictating a counter to identity politics, while simultaneously working around a trans-grammatical feud with: what's involved in the geographic region of donning underwear... well **** me! so the atypical English man, who's turning into a complete and utter, ****... allows me to smoke a cigarette in the street... but has a problem with me smoking on my private property?! has a problem with me being bilingual calling me a schizophrenic?! but he doesn't mind a Pakistani grooming gang from operating in the north of England?
look who's looking for some long lost allies? not me! there's so much i can do to integrate... but i can't just, erase, a knowledge of a language i said my first syllables MA MA in... you be the pretty boy... English, man... learn a second language, or keep your ******* on a tight leash! because i'll fight... i'm actually hoping for  fist fight... after i put out cigarette stumps on my knuckles? i don't care about winning or losing... i'm a sadist... i enjoy pain! no, you don't get to tell me to erase the tongue i said my first syllables in... teach a **** to fry you a battered cod next time!


so... the idea of integration
is fine...
while i'm some ****
instrument of insurgence?
but not when i'm a ******...
who says...
sure...
i'll learn your language...
your ******* tongue...
i'll learn it...
i'll even learn to practice the profanity,
much agreed upon,
of eating fish & chips
on Friday night...
    oh you're ******* pushing it...
you're pushing it!
you want me, to,
forget, ever speaking,
a single word,
of my native tongue?!
WHAT?!
you have to be ******* with me
right now...
you, expect, WHAT?!
WHAT?!
    how about you get off your
lard greased *** and learn a language
yourself?
guess why Western, your
so prized Western Europe
is experiencing a migrant crisis?
ever heard, how...
Belgians speak better English
than the natives?
  it's like they have
an imbedded
        coercion with the English tongue...
**** me...
they must have conquered these
lands prior!
the Norwegians speak better
English than the English!
wait... or **** on me...
vikings! it must have been the vikings!
guess what...
why do the migrants do not come
to "eastern" Europe?
well done,m sport...
just shy of the Urals
in terms of a geography class...
you want an: east is in the east,
and the west is a vaguely defined term...
whether in Copernican
terminology or, otherwise...

no, ******, i can dance dance dance
like a can-can ponce all night long!
i'll do it for free to boot...

no, the English people didn't vote
to leave the European union
with a fear of the Turks...
former colonies...
these wankers hated the notion
of the A8 coming over...
they doubled down
on Romania and Bulgaria
joining the party...

  the Turks were never the problem...
plenty of Turkish shops,
and god save the barbers to boot!

good for the "eastern" Europeans...
not speaking a *****-tongue
of English...
            they only arrive on the Western
shores because.
English?
         pristine... perfected even...
outside the confines of these,
**** grand isles of beauty and
perfection...
         and don't mind if i do...
shock multiplied by awe,
whenever a school trip took place...

the Belgians speak better English
than the actual English...
and have a diacritical neutrality
to boot...
         well **** me!

                      ain't that, something?!
no... English isn't a secondary
language necessary
to be spoken in a nation that's
past or south of Berlin...
  no necessary...
          the usage of English is,
a gateway "drug"...

but if the English, "think",
that i'll be properly integrated
into their culture,
while: speaking their native
language and respecting their culture
and whims is not enough,
and that i'll have to forge a pact
with myself to forget or rather,
erase the language i was born with?

how are your matriarchs of
Manchester doing?
  why do i ask?
   i'll sooner cut my **** off and
then **** on it...
before i speak a word of English
in my household,
or for that matter,
"integrate" by erasure...
  
  you best be ready to cut my tongue out...
which is why...
how can a Welshman be
deemed an esteemed creature
of kept pride...
if he doesn't speak a word of
the "hiding" tongue?
the Belgians speak a better English
than the ******* English!
whether or not they still
retain speaking Flemish is beside
the point...

               what cause for whatever there
be a need to make, a cause,
if the Welsh are not speaking
Cymru,
and the Irish are not speaking Gaelic?!
you don't make an argument
in a language that
has left Europe's west flank...
******* its way through
being easily speakable,
and semi-integrate-able;
thank god the majority
of the Polacks do not speak,
even a majority riddled
tourist majority English...
   and they don't...
even in places like in Warsaw...
it's like banging
their heads against
a brick wall when it comes
to the Muslim, wealthy tourists...
no hope in sight...
but no...
i will rather retain my native
tongue,
and respect the culture of
the English, than allow myself
to "forget" my native tongue
of Urdu... let's say...
and then turn around,
and abuse the native culture....
calling it... debased...
no!
you don't come against my
tongue, and then expect
me to remain neutral...
    but if you do...
you come, dictating what the rules
of integration are?
i'll be there...
telling you,
where you went wrong...
not everyone likes
the culture that England
entertains...
but everyone likes
a citation using the English
tongue, with however
horrid diacritical disorientation...
and i will give a part of me, up,
to, "integrate"...
take my language away?
you might as well blind me
and cut my tongue off...

   no... i'm telling you...
smarten up...
  how about you learn a second
language?
rather than discriminating
against bilingualism like
it's a schizophrenia?!
Ring Out, Wild Bells

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkenss of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
Johnnie Rae Feb 2012
We fell apart,
Lets make a new start,
A new beginning,
No lies, No fights, and no cries,
I'm done with the never ending feud,
It seems thats all there is to it,
One big feud,
I don't care how it started,
I just want it to end,
To go back to the way it used to be,
Although I'll never be perfect,
I can try,
If you can forget all the lies,
I'm willing to do this
For you,
For me,
For us,
What will it take,
To go back to the way it used to be.
I'd give anything.
Please,
I'd give anything,
To go back to the way it used to be.
October's bellowing anger breaks and cleaves
The bronzed battalions of the stricken wood
In whose lament I hear a voice that grieves
For battle’s fruitless harvest, and the feud
Of outraged men. Their lives are like the leaves
Scattered in flocks of ruin, tossed and blown
Along the westering furnace flaring red.
O martyred youth and manhood overthrown,
The burden of your wrongs is on my head.
Jupiter Mars P Moon
VENEZIA, "May" 19"th", 1910.


Jupiter's foursquare blaze of gold and blue
Rides on the moon, a lilac conch of pearl,
As if the dread god, charioted anew
Came conquering, his amazing disk awhirl
To war down all the stars. I see him through
The hair of this mine own Italian girl,
Adela
That bends her face on mine in the gondola!


There is scarce a breath of wind on the lagoon.
Life is absorbed in its beatitude,
A meditative mage beneath the moon
Ah! should we come, a delicate interlude,
To Campo Santo that, this night of June,
Heals for awhile the immitigable feud?
Adela!
Your breath ruffles my soul in the gondola!

Through maze on maze of silent waterways,
Guarded by lightless sentinel palaces,
We glide; the soft plash of the oar, that sways
Our life, like love does, laps --- no softer seas
Swoon in the ***** of Pacific bays!
We are in tune with the infinite ecstasies,
Adela!
Sway with me, sway with me in the gondola!

They hold us in, these tangled sepulchres
That guard such ghostly life. They tower above
Our passage like the cliffs of death. There stirs
No angel from the pinnacles thereof.
All broods, all breeds. But immanent as Hers
That reigns is this most silent crown of love
Adela
That broods on me, and is I, in the gondola.

They twist, they twine, these white and black canals,
Now stark with lamplight, now a reach of Styx.
Even as out love - raging wild animals
Suddenly hoisted on the crucifix
To radiate seraphic coronals,
Flowers, flowers - O let our light and darkness mix,
Adela,
Goddess and beast with me in the gondola!

Come! though your hair be a cascade of fire,
Your lips twin snakes, your tongue the lightning flash,
Your teeth God's grip on life, your face His lyre,
Your eyes His stars - come, let our Venus lash
Our bodies with the whips of Her desire.
Your bed's the world, your body the world-ash,
Adela!
Shall I give the word to the man of the gondola?
Drifton A Way Oct 2012
Headless chickens running aimless toward the almighty dollar
Blindly staring at the knife"s stainless steel amidst all the squaller

My thirsty soul argues against my numb skull to hold a thorough audition
They lewdly feud about potential candidates accrued to search for recognition
They conclude on a suspicion they mutually feared as a result of blind ambition
Search preludes the admission, that I found my dream car with no keys for ignition

Don"t question authority especially when it's the majority
Everyone knows the world is flat and let's just leave it at that
I bought water from you now I have ice to sell
I have a great story but no one worthy to tell
Hindsight should really be at least twenty fifteen
Because to admit we just don"t know is too obscene?

Blissful ignorance"s repugnant scent wafting through the cave
Mindless sheople"s chainlinked brains all dancing at the rave
Fire flickering Shadow puppets tastefully riding the next wave
Puppeteer wizard behind the curtain telling them how to behave
Misaligned redcoated frontline soldiers falsely labeled as brave
Life"s ironic conundrum puzzle, choosing which children to save
Diseased cement steadily drying in a world ever ready to pave
Hungrier than I"ve ever been, yet sickly devoid of things to crave
Easter party on Saturn


Hi dudes, Briano Alliano at the Saturn club rings and today we have
A few Easter numbers for the cosmic
Sleepers and dead from earth
The first song is Easter is a festival for all

You see we have clowns and bunnies and chickens and
A big Easter egg to crack
You see as we crack it
The chocolate goes everywhere
And the smarties come right out
Saying party over Easter
Party over Easter it's ever do fun
To party over Easter
The Easter bunny, is coming a running over to the Easter party now
So you dudes up here can share Easter till the kind folk find a way
To contact you, so we can party all night
And now here is our next Easter song
Ok it's Easter and you know it celebrate
It's Easter and you know it celebrate
You see Easter is a time to celebrate
With hot cross buns and eggs with colour
It's Easter and you know it
Celebrate
You see it's Easter and you know it
We'll party on
It's Easter and you know it
We'll party on
You see the fabulous Easter bunny , man
Brings the Easter eggs to celebrate
With his clan
It's Easter and you know it
We 'll party on
And now, dudes here is our next song called here comes Peter cottontail
Here comes Peter cottontail
Running down the bunny trail
Picking up the eggs from everywhere
You see he has a powder puff tail
And he enjoys eating snails
From the garden of the queen of hearts every single day
Here comes Peter cotton tail
Up and down the bunny trail
Yeah this is the best Easter that we ever had
Hopping down the Easter trail dropping eggs in each basket oh yeah
Peter Peter little baby Peter
Mighty Peter cottontail skips
Down the trail saying happy Easter
Happy Easter.to us all

And now here is our next Easter song Easter is living living is loving
And a loving family sharing a meal

Celebration a time to party With coloured eggs and chocolate bunnies and a hot cross bin to share
Over a cup of coffee or a dessert for a lovely meal down the club with people you know and love
And then we celebrate a day
For the families who had a rabbit in their house last night or the day
Jesus rose from the dead
Out of his bed, it felt like more of a sleep than death but the bible stayed it as death but Jesus reincarnated on Easter into a few of the farms animals and some people at the dinner table agree with that and some don't agree and it starts an
Easter religion feud ending with
A big happy Easter happy Easter
Happy Easter. And a happy Easter
To all and to all a great night
Then grandmother tells out to the kiddies I think I saw the Easter bunny leave out house this morning
And then asked did he leave you kids anything and then suddenly the
Dinner table had Easter eggs all over it but noone cared for it was Easter dudes happy happy happy hsppy Easter a time to celebrate
And it is a happy Easter from me as well
Happy Easter
And my encore is Easter eggs are tasty
You see we go to the shopping centre and we celebrate oh yeah
The Easter party is for young and old
Yeah this sounds so rad
The eggs are coloured in yellow and blue oh yeah oh yeah
The Easter eggs are tasty


Sent from my iPhone
dith Baker, was born in Athens ancient greece the middle of Spring and her parents
were Tom and Elizabeth Baker and they had 2 naughty brothers
named Ned and Jonithan who teased, and they looked like 2
big tough boys with heaps of muscle in their legs, and they told Edith she was a puny little girl, and a big wimp, and the boys said
they have more power than you loser girls, So Edith let us boys win
young edith let us boys win, and Edith ran to her parents crying and
they said, don’t worry about those boys, they can be tamed, and
Edith went to her room and said, i will find a way to tame those
naughty boys, yeah i will chop them up, from their juicy legs, and
have them for dinner, you can’t catch us ya girl, and the boys went
out , and the keep it secret who they actually were.
then the boys were attacked by a nasty witch and they were kept
in the witch’s back garden shed, with the fire on high, and the boys
yell out HELP HELP, PLEASE SAVE US FROM THIS MEAN LADY
we are only young we aren’t ready to die, please let us go, you see
Athena, put her power into Edith to defeat these boys, Athena made edtih grow into an adult to scare these boys out her, cause
she is the more powerful, than anyone on earth, and Edtih was
really suffering, and then Edith/Athena brought Ned and Jonithan
down to her dungeon, where she will keep these naughty boys till
they learn that teasing Edith baker was the worst mistake of their
lives, Edith was having a great time with Athena’s power giving these boys complete hell, and Jonithan said to Edith we are just
having fun with you, ok, i don’t want to change the world this way,
and Athena said to Edith, start with fattening up Jonithan, you see
he is expressing himself, he must be Cronus, cause he is the only
one that knows how to express himself, and jonithan said, Edith
don’t **** me, you are not going to pass go if you **** me, heh, and
Athena, fed Jonithan delicious treats, and after 3 weeks, he became a nice juicy fatty boy, and Edith with Athena’s help, cooked
Jonithan up and his bones were the only thing left, and Cronus was
discovered, as a religious god of Ancient greece, and Athena let Ned go home,and got out of Edith’s head and they lived happily ever after missing Jonithan but still lived happily ever after,

and on the following christmas two twins, Hansel who is Cronus, and his twin sister Gretel came into the world and lived  on a very rundown farm, which way back somewhere used to be the city of eternity, but Wanda Gray, who is the wicked witch, who used witch craft to destroy eternity and force the whole of mother earth to be destroyed and
humans will die, and Hansel and Gretel”s parents who lived a normal life in eternity by just normal family duties, and Hansel was
a great Rugby Union player, and he was a pick of all his friends,
and he was also a bit of a joker, making fun of Gretel every day,
making their parents very stressed out, mainly because Gretel was
a lazy girl ya know, never did anything constructive, and when Gretel said leave me alone, Hansel refused to listen to her, saying he was too tough for this mamby pamby girl, she just wants to play
with dolls and do all whimsy girlie things, and when Wanda Gray’s
plan to destroy eternity worked, every human was destroyed except for Hansel and Gretels family, and the father sent Hansel and Gretel off to find peace, and they walked in the destroyed debree of what was eternity, they came up to this old house,and Hansel recognised this place as the Rugby Union football club that Hansel
was a part of, so they came up to the front door,and hansel was
hoping to see his coach, cause he was too young to understand that they were the only civilised people on earth, and they knocked
on the door and then Wanda Gray who was the wicked witch, and
she put her mouth around Hansel and Gretel and brought them down to the dungeon, and Hansel and Gretel were screaming, saying HELP HELP LET US F..N GO WE ARE STUCK IN HERE FOREVER, after a few days, Gretel became very scared, as the only human she can see is her twin brother Hansel, they spent two
years down there, and Gretel was too shy to stay strong and was
getting weaker and Hansel was still trying even with out food, he
tried to keep the mascular part of the role of the male.
then Wanda Gray came back and said hi gretel, you are weak little girl aren’t you and then said, why aren’t you like that, you see Hansel had this plan, he just managed to weaken the chain, so
when the witch came he got free from the chain, and kicked Wanda Gray in the shins and it knocked her over, but Hansel couldn’t save
Gretel, so he just ran off, and then the witch got up and then stabbed Gretel in the stomach and after 2 hours she was dead, and
Hansel was nearly 12, and ran outside and then got a few old branches and push them against the door of the witch’s den, and then ran off into the fields, and then Hansel was puzzled, he was running in a direction, that his home was, and he couldn’t find it anywhere, so he ran back to the witch’s den, and he couldn’t find it either, and Hansel was scared, it looked like that Hansel was the only kid on earth, and started to run around the fields, and he was enjoying himself, and there was a big rainstorm that came into the
fields, and Hansel was picked up and went sliding down the hill and
fell asleep for 3 hours, and then Hansel woke up, and there was this giant Tyrannosaurus rex, and he looked mighty hungry, and then it started to chase Hansel through the woods, and Hansel was
sweating from the run and the fear that this dinosaur was going to eat him, and then Hansel slipped over and the tyrannosaurus rex
suddenly got out of the picture and then a deinanychus suddenly
came into site and fixed his eyes on Hansel, and Hansel found himself cornered by the tyrannosaurus rex and the deinanysaurus
and then a Megalosaurus came down and pushed Hansel down
into the ground and Hansel thought straight away he was going to
die, but he fell down on a patch of leaves laid down in a way like a
bed and this was the work of Athena saving Cronus, who was Hansel, and Hansel slept for 23 years, and woke up, and he looked like a new man, and he had Athena and Gretel, trying to rid evil out
of Wanda Gray, trying to send her to her next life, as Jesus Christ,
and Athena said to Hansel, that for eternity to come back again, we
all must, have these new names, Gretel you will be Mary, and now
with the power of Athena, i will send you to Joseph, after this reincarnation is completed and Hansel you are Cronus, as i told you and when i give you the warning you are going out there with a combination of mine and your power, to keep the dinosaurs away from Mary and Joseph, and Cronus did exactly that, and went out
to Bethlehem and got all the kings horses and all the kings men, all together to form a wall from one side of Isreal to the other, and
they find a home in Bethlehem, and the story they tell children is a
bit happy, don’t want to scare them off, but as donkey with pregnant
Mary on top, and Joseph walking , the tyrannosaurus rex and allosaurus and the stegosaurus were trying to get to the other side of Jereasulem and as they arrived the kings men got their guns out and said ready aim fire and every man fired at every dinosaur, and
the Anklylosaurus was the only the kings men couldn’t beat, so they chased him right around the country, and Cronus while that was going on was around making sure that Mary and Joseph can get to
the Inn in Bethlehem without any problems, and then this Anklylosaurus was nowhere to be found, and the kings men, decided to track down a source, to rid the dinosaurs forever and save this world from those terrible animals, so the source they found was killing the dinosaurs eggs from the tree they were carefully put,and the kings men fired their guns 5000 times into the
ground and after 4 days of doing this, they finally are achieving their
goal about making dinosaurs and then the kings men travelled through the fields and the Ankylosaurus, was running aroung having a wow of a time, and then they fired and fired and then just as they were losing bullets, the lizard was dead, and then Cronus
got Mary and Joseph to the inn, on August 23rd and she was nursed there till december 12 where Jesus was born officially, and
this was time to celebrate for everyone, they played, silent night
and when a child is born and away in a manger and jingle bells and
a very good version of It came upon a midnight clear, that as soon
as christmas eve was finished at midnight, the start of christmas day, Jesus was christened, the saviour of God,or buddha, or mohammed, anyway Cronus did a chant to start the ceremony, saying, ummmmm ummmmm um diddly dumb  dumb ummmm
welcome Jesus Christ to this land, every girl and boy and woman and man, um diddly dumb, umm diddly dum dum you see everyone is here to see, the kings men, killed each dinosaur to bring us peace, ummm diddly dum, and Cronus, then sat down and buddha
got up to also christen Cronus, for all his great work on bringing Jesus here, said you are now ST Nicholas, and then St Nicholas had to mend the feud between david and Goliath, and this was going to be hard, but St Nicholas, said, how about this Friday night,
New Years Eve, we will see the New Year in with a great fight, first
i will fight david and after that i will fight golliath, and then, david and gollath both had a duel to end the night and they still wanted to
**** each other, you see david beat St nicholas and gollath lost to St Nicholas, and then the last duel looked like david was doomed as
Gollath had him about to fall down a twenty storey medieveil building, and St Nicholas, went up there, and, used his powerful sword to bring david and gollath to safety, but then, well, they all went down to the party, and at midnight they screamed out 10, 9
8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2 ,1, HAPPY NEW YEAR, and then they sang auld
leng zine and also St Nicholas welcomed a tiger to be trained to
protect the village from stowaways and then St Nicholas was walking around and met up with John the Baptist, and they were both having a chinwag, and Moses and Jesus who are known to be
very wise, said, to John the baptist and St Nicholas, you know the best thing that you 2 must do, is have a debate about your visions
for the future, and we will ask everyone to vote for whose views are
greater, and then, we’ll tell you who wins, and John the baptist and
ST Nicholas went away thinking about what they will say, but Athena wasn’t at all amused, because she hates competitive games, and ST nicholas said, competition is a great way to bring peace to this land, and with competitions, we can have fun stuff all
through each generations, and Athena said, ok very well, and then
after 4 months of deciding what to say in their debates, the debate was just about to start, and here it is

ST NICHOLAS

heaps of fun for children
enjoying new generation music
inventing ways to have real fun
not wanting to ****
but would **** to prove a point
keep the death cycle fun with great
stories about reincarnation, from buddha
untill eternity is reached i want all my lives to
start from scratch
and to enjoy parties in any shape or form

John the baptist

inventing the holy bible to stop people suffering
start up a building for people to feel at ease about
losing loved ones
keeping generations safe from death, cause it can
create problems
killing Jesus at age 33, on the third day of the third month
for our sins
and attempt to stop war by inventing the word religion

and then each member of the town had their chance to vote and
after 4 months of counting the votes, Moses and Jesus, announced the winner was John the baptist, apparently St Nicholas’s views were a little unrealistic, and then St Nicholas got out his sword and threaten to **** an innocent bystander, cause John the baptist was
planning to **** one of the jesus christ, he said, he is going to **** you
Jesus Christ and Jesus said, the townsfolk thought John the baptist was more right in the money, and then St Nicholas killed this 23 year old man, and then said, live in your own town without me, i quit this crazy life, and then ST Nicholas went to the ocean near by, and
threw rocks into the ocean, trying to play skidding games to see how far he can throw, and a boat of 323 armed bandits, put a blanket over st nicholas’s head and locked him in the dungeon and
started to sail toward Antarctica, and then they threw St Nicholas
into the ocean, and St Nicholas was starting swim and arrived on
Antarctica, and then walked for 3 days and then noticed this little
village, and it was great, it had great little houses and candy cane
fountains and a great stream going from one side of the village to the other, and in August of that year, St Nicholas started to dress up the place a bit, with his backyard he had the largest work centre on the island, where he got into making toys for the kids of the island and handy things for the adults on the island, you see, St Nicholas
did this all himself, no there weren’t really magic elves, no that is to
make christmas fun again, st nick did all this himself, and also made his stage coach out of fence palings and chopped up a pumpkin into very thin slices, and made that the floor of the trailer and where he sat and used Butch the brumby from the local farm as his guider, and every year till he was 323 years old, delivered
presents to every house and he will even drop in to speak to the
kind folk as they offered them biscuits to go with his nice cold beer
and on Christmas eve on St Nicholas’s 323rd birthday, Athena used her powers to bring upon the people of Antarctica a very big blizzard, which wiped out the entire village, and when the blizzard was at it’s worst, St Nicholas was given a gold beer mug, with the
words St Nick forever and ever in our hearts, but as St Nick was leaving they were snowed under, and there was no way of getting out, and all the people parished, and St Nick, was no more, just an
image, to be captured in future lives, you see Cronus took over to
rule Ancient Greece, and Cronus lived with Athena in ancient greece for 100 years, as brother and sister, never to be stopped
and i am St Nick, Cronus, Hansel and Jonithan,

© 2014 writer joe

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Added on July 10, 2014
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writer joe
Canberra, ACT, Australia

About
you see i have a mental illness and i express myself through imaginary poems and stories and my stories are in depth, but art is like that, i would like my writing to be good enough for television.. more..

Writing
<noimaget.jpg> THE PARTY THAT ROCKED LA
A Story by writer joe
<noimaget.jpg> my concert on jupiter moo..
A Story by writer joe
<noimaget.jpg> chrmical in the brain
A Poem by writer joe
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B
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2016
i was directed to this place by Marty Feldman, and he said i should say this password to gain entry: float like a chapati, sting like a vindaloo.

i' not good at making passes at someone's death,
just yesterday i was thinking
while a quiz show took place with haiku clues
regarding famous people, so i wondered
aloud: would it still be the correct answer if
you said: cassius clay? what a cool name,
colossus of clay - what the hell does Muhammad
and Ali have to do with african rooting
when you hardly speak Swahili? a bit pointless,
but a name like cassius clay... unstoppable -
already mythological, rather than a family
feud between Ali and the Caliphs after Muhammad's
death - maybe he should have confirmed his
baptism as Muhammad Ali with a confirmation
akin to catholic practice and added a surname, like
Khadijah, well... if Mozart is turning in his coffin
for his music being turned into a muzak
or a Porcupine Tree tree song, then the first wife of
Muhammad is turning in hers... a wise women
of sound economic acumen could be compared
by secular standards to Gabriel's voice, women tell lies,
just today i saw plain Jane turn into a stunner,
she was gagging to go on a date with a guy of her dreams,
by media standards a subsequent loser in Morocco,
at a photo shoot of practising flirtation a half-and-half
love affair between the Gothic island of the Caribbean
that's England and the Bahamas flirted with olive skin,
blue eyes and pecks, and an ego shaped like a woodpecker...
or an u.z.i., poor guy, got to make a show,
but the ***** is out! she noticed her eyes!
what further shahada of scheherazade?
just one more night, just one more night, one more, night.
demigods and men, traces of narcissus in man resides
in his eyes, nowhere else, man and woman fall in love
with their eyes, rather than narcissus and the complete
visage, but as i once said: imagine narcissus looking
into the sea - he might as well have fallen in love with
the stillness of the lake rather than the image represented
by it - across the seven seas he roamed, across the seven
zeniths, until he came across the Lake of Echo,
and heard the echo of footsteps beside him, to have seen
the natural mirror by moonlight, and settled to lie,
disguising himself as a flower worth recycling:
each god in polytheism his own individual, reigning ideal
in the pantheon of gods: solipsism - with man's intervention
a notably study of, himself.
although i'd love to chat thoroughly about this,
i'm not so sure i want to - hear the words:
you're a good man... you're a good man in a brothel?
you think a ******* would forget saying that
and continue? *persona incognito grata
-
a golden crown on her tooth that i peered into with her
Ukrainian accent speaking polish, i lost my virginity
to a French girl without any connection - proceeding
from the way she decided a child learning a new language
aged 8 could not be considered a native speaker
for a psychology experiment - i gave her a silent lesson
in history concerning Napoleon and the last heroic act
of warfare, after that, civilians were utilised like bombs
or rifles, the many guilts after all the killing seized.
anyway, today i decided to cook two knock-outs...
the first was intended as a kolhapuri chicken curry,
the latter was chicken do'h pyaaza, with the later
the title, indeed the fenugreek incident, fenugreek
being a concentrated version of kasoori methi,
if the Turks invented hot & sour with a pickled chilli,
the blue Indians invented a whole palette of sour and hot
with this dish, and the crucial ingredient that's
fenugreek - although the crystalline form of this spice
is more potent - the recipe asked for one tablespoon
of the raw products, the leaves (kasoori methi) -
i added a teaspoon of the concentrated stuff -
what a disaster! i asked for two tasters to tell me that i
wasn't tasting bitterness in the gravy as if i added some
English ale revenge against continental beers...
because the excess of the component of intended sourness
of the fenugreek turned into an ale-like bitterness -
hence the notion that sour isn't an antonym of sweet,
but bitter is - hence sweet & sour rather than
sweet & bitter - you can have a turkish pickled chilli
and still have a compliment on the palette of hot & sour,
but imagine tasting bitterness - excess of concentrated
kasoori methi does the trick - and since Faust doesn't
have an Igor like Dr. Frankenstein, he turned himself
into a hunchback, and started picking out most of the
fenugreek crystals from the gravy, one by one, ony by one,
hunched over the sauces - until the bitterness disappeared
and the intended sourness came through -
it took a while, but Faust as his own assistant kept on
saying: stop lying, stop lying! i want to eat this sauce too!
that's the thing with chemistry and cooking,
i received a present not too long ago, an arsenal
of spices, which means i can punch-bag you a Peshwari
naan with raisin and almond stuffing (a bit of sugar too),
and i can add the raw ingredients - i'm richer with
spices than with drugs or gold: turmeric is also known
as saffron - although saffron is more potent,
turmeric does the same job... coriander powder, cumin
power (also seeds), mint the prime garnish for
do'h pyazza curry... garam masala made from scratch,
meaning i have: cardamom pods, cloves, black cardamom,
mace... and i can make you a kohlapur masala...
honestly... in this great culinary babylon of english society,
from pizzas to chinese to Kentucky to New York
street vendors... i'd give up the cuisine i was born in
and convert to India's palette... i don't need to convert
anything else... religion can remain with those who
barely read, or who read and cite only one book...
let them have it... i don't care...
i already converted to a non-religious fascination with
mystical Judaism (sorry Allah, couldn't do anything
with your name, it didn't fit the Latin revision of thinking
about it), and as such, converted to a dreamy everyday
of India's culinary prowess - Kama Sutra is nothing
compared to the recipes from Kashmir or anywhere
where the blue bloods fascinated the merchants rather than
scalped them in berserker rage among the puritan
envoys.
Aspen Apr 2022
“You are gaining weight”
“I do not care about you”
“You are just like your mother, her side of the family is messed up”

Would you maybe, like to reconsider what you just said?
I hate to admit it, but your words cut deeper than a knife
I’m trying so hard, but they are getting to my head
Maybe reflect on how your words are ruining my life
How I grew up hating myself, wishing I could be someone better instead

They say that family is important, that bonds are important
But I’m starting to reconsider
That maybe family is not the blood that runs through my veins
Or the group of people that share my last name
But it is a group of people where I can feel enough
I’m starting to reconsider
Whether I should stay by your side
Because yes, you do provide me with food, shelter, and the necessities of life
I walk on eggshells, reading your jawline for intentions of strife
You may be family but you should know
If you do not reconsider your actions, your own family will become your foe
Day 2 of the poetry month challenge! Prompt: Reconsider. TW: Emotional abuse from family members. But yeah this was a hard poem to write. It was a vague prompt and tbh I felt pretty anxious going along with this idea. It's hard to open up to people about this, since I've always been told to stay quiet about what is happening at home, so I'm not used to talking about this. Sorry for the dark topics for the first two days, I promise that lighter poems with pretty imagery will be coming this month!

— The End —