"herewith" poems
Mongst the salacious ferns of
Artemis requested in the land
of the handsome labyris women
wealing and weaving Vulcans
shrewd hearts of jasper and
chalcendony, governess Hulda
cleaves Muspellsheims yew bones
fletching mandrakes philtre whetting
hie Cupids perfuse herb of grace
intercessorial unto volcanic pious
virtues haranguing loves cataract
dashing herewith demotic enditements
distempered of ludic ordination;
forging a year and a day halest
cledonomancies volley of truths
bequeathing privity of Heavens
prismatic trajectory.
ELEETE J MUIR.
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 9:25 PM UTC
1.
Our love cannot be compared,
To that of mortal existence,
Our passion shall never remit,
For it's heavenly in its brilliance.
2.
Our love is a oneness of being,
With romantic benevolence herewith,
Our blood of mysterious union,
Pumps furiously among loving bliss.
3.
Our love lies deep inside,
Resident in each others heart,
Exploding the flames of desire,
An inferno to banish the dark.
4.
Our love will never be challenged,
Never forgotten, nor passed,
Our bonding of timeless beauty,
As infinite in the joy it has cast.
.........................................
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
Ach so! thou much-praised and lauded Milwaukee,
Thou delightful Wisconsin Stadt of boundless pulchritude,
Verily hath History endowed thy blessed name
With the noisomely beery breath of immortality!
And thank the benign Almighty in highest Heav’n
That thy delectable streets and arboreal squares
Doth remain heretofore untouched by unseemly civic strife,
Despite thy renown as veritable midwife to Sewer Socialism!
Yet, tear-inducing recollections have I of this dwelling-place
And herewith followeth heart-rending remembrances
Of what transpired when I inveigled a plump young Mädchen there
For a brief sojourn of untrammelled concupiscence.
Alas, alack, after gorging her impetuous appetites
On a gargantuan repast of mitteleuropäische delicacies,
Methinks her poor heart gave up survival’s uneven battle
And, warbling a soft piffero-reminiscent sigh, she expired.
‘Twas too tragic thus to depart this happy welkin in mid-prandials,
Emitting a final flatus, sweet adieu, from her rearmost aperture,
Leaving me, her poor forlorn swain, bereft and solitary,
Faced with mine host’s request for instant monetary rendition.
From that naughty place of my bereavement fled I,
Clutching to my ***** the contents of her silken purse,
Determined to partake in untrammelled ***** licence elsewhere,
Ere the chanticleer’s dawn croak wake the inebriated citizens.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 12:21 PM UTC
I, bestow this delicate heart of mine to whom
who really deserves it,
Let thee scrutinize me, before the verge of my beloved death,
Exquisite time travels fast; no one could deliver it back, then;
Let thee compromise thy mere words uttered by my tongue.
Into the horizon, my love will intertwine joy upon
thy cold eyes;
Confusions shall subdue through the brilliance of the light,
Thy Windows of Heaven, will unfold thy truth for myriad
of doubts
For each hemisphere shall listen upon my countless vows.
Into the horizon, nothing can stop every step taken
towards thee
For I, will fight even at the darkest eve on the battlefield:
Yet if I lose, I forbid not thy tears a-falling on the ground
to heave other,
Herewith, perhaps, thee haven't seen thy rose that
will never wither.
For I, offer thy hearth of my life to whom who never bequeaths,
Let thee displays clairvoyance for the adequate reason
I breathe;
Yet when the golden sun already descended below
thy wonderful horizon,
Deciphering became dreary, for soon this agony will be gone
to emancipation.
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 3:41 AM UTC
The Many Stages of Life.
Shakespeare wrote: that in Life,
we pass through seven,stages,
and for each stage, we fill many pages.
Recording details, joyful and sad:
of deeds done, be they good or bad.
Lifestyles led - be they short or long:
a mournful dirge or joyful song?
they’ll mark times of joy and strife
each book recording a stage in life.
But of all events therein, there’s no doubt,
The Rhythm of Life, runs throughout!
Herewith my attempt to describe poetically,
the Seven Phases, of life in metred rhyme:
A baby’s first cry, a Mother’s sigh,
a Father’s joy, be it girl or boy!
The Rhythm of Life - renewing.
Tho not adept, a toddler’s first step:
an excited giggle, a hesitant wiggle!
The Rhythm of Life - exploring.
A chilling dream: a piercing scream:
a splashing bath, a show of wrath!
The Rhythm of Life - revealing.
It’s off to school, playing it cool,
friendships made, twixt lad and maid,
The Rhythm of Life - inviting.
In the Class, shy looks pass:
Girl dates boy, flirting coy:
The Rhythm of Life - delighting.
Embarrassed flush: a girlish blush.
With proposal made, plans are laid,
The Rhythm of Life - maturing.
Lovers matched, a wedding hatched,
with banns said, the twosome wed.
The Rhythm of Life - inviting.
Twixt a couple paired, love is shared.
Next it’s three, maybe more to be?
The Rhythm of Life, expanding.
Heaven be praisedACA, the family’s raised,
then comes the desire, to retire.
The rhythm of Life, now slowing.
After happy years, and some tears,
walk grows slow, soon time to go.
The Rhythm of Life, is waning.
When The Reaper calls, the curtain falls:
being time to leave, some will grieve.
For The Rhythm of Life, has ended!
Rhymer. May 23rd, 2018.
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 7:43 PM UTC
We live in such a material age.
Where people get excluded because of the pieces of cloth they wear
Where peoples’ state of living relies on little rectangular pieces of paper
The bigger the number the better they fare
Where these tiny little numbers on a scale that people care about so much
Change the reflection that appears in the mirror
And the way that other people see them
Even though personality is so much dearer
And everyone’s obsessed
With everyone else’s’ lives
To distract them from their own problems
Even though when you return they stab you like knives
And if you really think
Wonder, ponder and contemplate
You realise this won’t matter when you die
You’ll have a clean slate
It won’t matter what car you drove
Or the clothes and people and places you adorned yourself with
So why worry now while you have a life to live?!
The promise you’ll make to yourself will appear herewith;
You’ll run and jump and touch the sky
Stare at the stars as the cars go by
And love and laugh until you cry
Live until the day you die
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 1:58 AM UTC
the Webster's, the Merriam's,
residents of the Oxford
say not,
an exclamation or a noun,
but an action,
a doing word,
not so much...
as a poet~sorcerer
digressing rules,
is my input
appetizer,
poems, my exported
entrées
all posted to be
dessert
for all the sweet tooth
parts of you
all to
feast on this
process,
when I
hallelujah you...
"Praise the Lord"
the translation literal
but sojourn herewith me
for a few extants,
together, let's
invigorate, expand the
understanding of an ever expansive
definition...
if I ever fall out of love,
with natural words,
can no longer
hallelujah/scribe
to memorialize
why we claim,
we are alive....
hallelujah's
praises
for you all the
master designers'
praiseworthy creations,
an extension of themselves,
they said
in each human
godlike spark
hallelujah installed
there is nothing more
godlike
than being
human,
so when I
hallelujah
I praise each and everyone
it is a mixologist's dream,
some of it a
thank you,
some of it a
your welcome,
all of it a
celebratory exercise,
in appreciation,
of the finery of what we can
be
come
greater
through
the words
of our blood
transfused
Oh!
act out Hallelujah,
write it as if you must
urgent do
Hallelujah,
do it
not just now but,
Selah!
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 5:18 PM UTC
Shakespeare wrote: that in Life,
we pass through seven,stages,
and for each stage, we fill many pages.
Recording details, joyful and sad:
of deeds done, be they good or bad.
Lifestyles led - be they short or long:
a mournful dirge or joyful song?
they’ll mark times of joy and strife
each book recording a stage in life.
But of all events therein, there’s no doubt,
The Rhythm of Life, runs throughout!
A Challenge was issued to write a poem,
based on the theme "The Rhythm of Life."
Herewith my attempt to describe poetically,
the Seven Phases, of life in metred rhyme:
A baby’s first cry, a Mother’s sigh,
a Father’s joy, be it girl or boy!
The Rhythm of Life - renewing.
Tho not adept, a toddler’s first step:
an excited giggle, a hesitant wiggle!
The Rhythm of Life - exploring.
A chilling dream: a piercing scream:
a splashing bath, a show of wrath!
The Rhythm of Life - revealing.
It’s off to school, playing it cool,
friendships made, twixt lad and maid,
The Rhythm of Life - inviting.
In the Class, shy looks pass:
Girl dates boy, flirting coy:
The Rhythm of Life - delighting.
Embarrassed flush: a girlish blush.
With proposal made, plans are laid,
The Rhythm of Life - maturing.
Lovers matched, a wedding hatched,
with banns said, the twosome wed.
The Rhythm of Life - inviting.
Twixt a couple paired, love is shared.
Next it’s three, maybe more to be?
The Rhythm of Life, expanding.
Heaven be praised, the family’s raised,
then comes the desire, to retire.
The rhythm of Life, now slowing.
After happy years, and some tears,
walk grows slow, soon time to go.
The Rhythm of Life, is waning.
When The Reaper calls, the curtain falls:
being time to leave, some will grieve.
For The Rhythm of Life, has ended!
Rhymer. March 16th, 2018.
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 9:28 AM UTC
(greek tongue)
i.
Ένδυσης της αγνή
ένα παραθυρόφυλλο του προτροπή;
Espied θεραπείες , Girt μέση του,
δεν είναι σε τάφο, δια του παρόντος
υπερβατική πηγή έμπνευσης.
ii.
Αμετάβλητος θέλεις να είμαστε
συναντιούνται για νεότητα , η δική μου κόσμιος βασίλισσα;
Κανένας πιο ζωντανό μέσα ourn ονείρου,
μόνο εσύ και εγώ , ορυχείο μετριάζεται γλυκό.
iii.
θελεις ανθύλλιο του αψηφούν earthbound μυαλό των ανδρών του, που τόνος , που τόνος , θαυμάστε τους ? του είδους του Θεού.
iv.
O ' σε ourn χρόνο , O' εκείνη την ημέρα,
sup μας μαραίνονται , στη ζεστή αγκαλιά;
Ο Θεός να είναι ο ήλιος , το φως για ourn πρόσωπο ,
Αρχοντικού για να μας οδηγήσει στο σπίτι , πέρα από τις πύλες μαργαριταρένια .
(English version)
i.
Apparel of the chaste
a casement of exhortation;
Espied cures, waist's girt,
not in a grave, herewith
transcendent inspiration.
ii.
Immutable shalt we be
meet for newness, mine comely queen;
None more living inside ourn dreams,
Just thou and me, mine tempered sweet.
iii.
Floweret's shalt defy men's earthly mind's,
They warble, their marvel's; of heaven's
Kind.
iv.
O' in ourn time, O' in that day,
Sup we wilt, in warm embrace;
God to be the sun, light's on ourn face,
Mansion's to lead us home, past the pearly gates.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane Nagley ( àgapi mou dedication)
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 9:30 PM UTC
Herewith
Definitive semblance
of allegorical allusion
That unto the masses
in abject delusion
Replete with the
studied sacred illusion
of cosmic worth
for every cosmetic remedy
of indolent intrusion
Yea Right.
Characteristically docile
Accused and convicted
of arrested development
Screeching Hell awaits
the plentious harvest
of the crop of fools
Arreared in impetuousity
and impulse for that
most deviant sake
Yea Right.
Drowning awash in misery
Choosing to swim on alone
Thinking they then
are the chosen one
They then the center
God society et al
ad infinitum?
That most aberrant
Human Secular
thought.
Yea...Right.
-R.
(11.10.17)
-LA
Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
Dear number five, with my hand I count,
Twice in fact, without a doubt.
To my birthday, February herewith,
It is indeed upon the fifth.
Dear number five, you do so mean,
Foot long sandwiches for one to dream.
3.14159, in pi you do arrive,
Among Fibonacci you do so strive.
Dear number five, you have begun,
Histories with a long run:
Karl Marx was born; a Mexican independence;
US/SR tested nukes; all which men were in attendance.
Dear number five, with Lincoln it so bares,
His proud, pensive face, a dollar shares.
Cinco, viis, wu, cinq, go, fem,
In different languages does your usage stem.
Dear number five, I must say adieu,
You’re much more than numbers, such as two,
And as I leave you my simple twenty line poem,
Remember the writer who sat here and wrote ‘em.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 9:55 PM UTC
Intrigued about cremation,
I sought GOOGLE to assuage curiosity
significant questions answered
clicking the following website
https://www.funeralwise.com/plan/
cremation/cremation-process/
though summarizing article
some oven death defying act,
yet summarization satisfactorily completed,
thus herewith briefly describes
kickstarting, mystifying, pulverizing...
tantalizing, yielding, enterprising, lasting,
yelping, holding, surviving dearly departed
1. deceased identified
2. official cremation authorized
affiliated with deceased
3. lifeless body prepared
4. medical devices removed
5. jewelry recovered
6. corpse secured
into burnable cremation receptacle
7. encased entity transferred
to retort i.e. cremation chamber
8. temperature range adjusted
between 1400 degrees -
1800 degrees Fahrenheit
9. 1.5 - 2 hours elapsed
10. magnet applied
residual metal removed
11. remains ground into ashes
12. once process completed
remains secured within urn
13. family representative entrusted
with ashes.
Burnt offerings distributed
ideally according to stated
wishes of beloved,
whose remembrance sustained
as tears expended
necessary to mourn
eventually sorrow lessened,
photographs visited
after crushing grief decreased.
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 2:35 PM UTC
It needs an offer indeed.
An offer of a better life,
Bettered with choosing love,
Choice of a wise dear partner,
Dearest be that earnest one,
Earning more than just filthy money,
Filth of loneliness be glowed away,
Glow of love I herewith mean,
Hereto in love's inventive embrace,
Invent they together do just happiness,
Justified are my sacrifices in knightly manner,
Knightly in shining armour of lovely feelings,
Lovely days will descend more lightly,
More than anything else I need love,
Needful of your own love,
Own my heart you do with that pulling force,
Pulling it up towards your queer self,
Queer for me you are definitely more rightly attractive,
Rightly I demand your hand in sweet desperation,
Sweetly sitting in my mouth like my teeth 32,
Teeth - your teeth I have for them the utmost love,
Utmost importance I give to your voice always,
Voice of your adolescence and as I remember when we talked,
We had lengthy conversations which were x-rayed then,
X-rayed with the help of your own,
Your love is what I will long for after reaching the zenith higher,
Zenith of success calls me and how?
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
herewith do i ask of my fine friends;
why have i yet to see the light of day?
i waited on the cold gravel sulking,
thinking, and again found myself
begging my great woe to waste away
the story became a bit too much,
i wrote it on my legs that wouldn't cart.
as the eyes and faces watched me i sighed
for the first time in months there was joy
but to joy escaping was an art.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 6:44 PM UTC
by Po Chu-i
–Confucius said that it was not till sixty that "his ears obeyed him".
Between thirty and forty, one is distracted by the Five Lusts;
Between seventy and eighty, one is prey to a hundred diseases.
But from fifty to sixty one is free from all ills;
Calm and still–the heart enjoys rest.
I have put behind me Love and Greed; I have done with Profit and Fame;
I am still short of illness and decay and far from decrepit age.
Strength of limb I still possess to seek the rivers and hills;
Still my heart has spirit enough to listen to flutes and strings.
At leisure I open new wine and taste several cups;
Drunken I recall old poems and sing a whole volume.
Meng-te has asked for a poem and herewith I exhort him
Not to complain of three-score, "the time of obedient ears."
Chinese; trans. Arthur Waley
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
That remembered is not of present, true the fact.
Self in name, but person no more, a note is played and heard intact.
Resonation fades through fault or purpose, and plucked again a new key to nurture, sound or noise, felt or heard, possibility given but no outcome occurred, perhaps another.
Pick and focus on what comes to mind, and what was listened for can be pure to find, for sequence in health the song will give, a symphony of life in truth herewith.
Jul 6, 2020
Jul 6, 2020 at 7:57 PM UTC