What’s the best thing in the world?
June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;
Truth, not cruel to a friend;
Pleasure, not in haste to end;
Beauty, not self-decked and curled
Till its pride is over-plain;
Light, that never makes you wink;
Memory, that gives no pain;
Love, when, so, you’re loved again.
What’s the best thing in the world?
—Something out of it, I think.

A Sonnet is a moment’s monument,—
Memorial from the Soul’s eternity
To one dead deathless hour. Look that it be,
Whether for lustral rite or dire portent,
Of its own arduous fulness reverent:
Carve it in ivory or in ebony,
As Day or Night may rule; and let Time see
Its flowering crest impearled and orient.

A Sonnet is a coin: its face reveals
The soul,—its converse, to what Power ’tis due:—
Whether for tribute to the august appeals
Of Life, or dower in Love’s high retinue,
It serve; or, ’mid the dark wharf’s cavernous breath,
In Charon’s palm it pay the toll to Death.

XLII

‘My future will not copy fair my past’—
I wrote that once; and thinking at my side
My ministering life-angel justified
The word by his appealing look upcast
To the white throne of God, I turned at last,
And there, instead, saw thee, not unallied
To angels in thy soul! Then I, long tried
By natural ills, received the comfort fast,
While budding, at thy sight, my pilgrim’s staff
Gave out green leaves with morning dews impearled.
I seek no copy now of life’s first half:
Leave here the pages with long musing curled,
And write me new my future’s epigraph,
New angel mine, unhoped for in the world!

Come, my darling, let us dance
To the moon that beckons us
To dissolve our love in trance
Heedless of the hideous
Heat & hate of Sirius-
Shun his baneful brilliance!

Let us dance beneath the palm
Moving in the moonlight, frond
Wooing frond above the calm
Of the ocean diamond
Sparkling to the sky beyond
The enchantment of our psalm.

Let us dance, my mirror of
Perfect passion won to peace,
Let us dance, my treasure trove,
On the marble terraces
Carved in pallid embroeideries
For the vestal veil of Love.

Heaven awakes to encompass us,
Hell awakes its jubilance
In our hearts mysterious
Marriage of the azure expanse,
With the scarlet brilliance
Of the Moon with Sirius.

Velvet swatches our lissome limbs
Languid lapped by sky & sea
Soul through sense & spirit swims
Through the pregnant porphyry
Dome of lapiz-lazuli:-
Heart of silence, hush our hymns.

Come my darling; let us dance
Through the golden galaxies
Rhythmic swell of circumstance
Beaming passion’s argosies:
Ecstacy entwined with ease,
Terrene joy transcending trance!

Thou my scarlet concubine
Draining heart’s blood to the lees
To empurple those divine
Lips with living luxuries
Life importunate to appease
Drought insatiable of wine!

Tunis in the tremendous trance
Rests from day’s incestuous
Traffic with the radiance
Of her sire-& over us
Gleams the intoxicating glance
Of the Moon & Sirius.

Take the ardour of my impearled
Essence that my shoulders seek
To intensify the curled
Candour of the eyes oblique,
Eyes that see the seraphic sleek
Lust bewitch the wanton world.

Come, my love, my dove, & pour
From thy cup the serpent wine
Brimmed & breathless -secret store
Of my crimson concubine
Surfeit spirit in the shrine-
Devil -Goddess -****** -*****.

Afric sands ensorcel us,
Afric seas & skies entrance
Velvet, lewd & luminous
Night surveys our soul askance!
Come my love, & let us dance
To the Moon and Sirius!

.
The sensual caress
          twilight mist impearled flesh
          alighting a feral desire
          within blossoming spring petals

The newness of uncovered skin
          a sweetness on unsated lips ,
          the taste of passion and salty *******;

          with hastened breath
          sighs do brush with warm ****** breeze  
                               across my naked chest

          wild feathers sweeten
          tender touch
                                ... emanating
          sensual awakenings

Arousing buried desires

          unable to hold back
          constant cravings

          the inevitable currents
          pummeling shameless floodgates
with arising untamed springtides swell

Fleshly enslaved yen --  
energy sprouts tingling sensations

          nascent buds blossoming deeply
          flourishing exploding flames  
          bursting flush
                                       ... deliciously white hot

In an unstoppable carnal moment
          passion betides
          like the surging sea ;


Rising and falling crescendos
          unleashed waves crashing ,
          drowning in the rhythmic undertow

          interlaced bodies heaving adrift in the moment 
          like entangled seaweeds
                                            in a riptide

         as the rolling thunder storm 
         dances across invigorated tides
         with a surging cadence of cresting waves bloom
         caught in the Rhythm and the Sea


                           ✩ ✩ ☼ ✩ ✩

He is
My Azure Dreambird,
(The Sovereign of Songbirds)
That soars upon
Skies of Resonance.
His sapphire wings
Weightless by valor,
Hallowed every doubt
That
Cursed my shadow
Until credence reigned.

He is
The Musicality of my Soul,
That I climbed as
A stairway
Into
Gates of Aether
Upon
Porcelain keys
Of an impearled
Grand Piano.

His sound emittance
Ascended in frequency until
Pitch became subliminal
For height
ceased to be
Height,
And depth,
Ceased to be
Depth,
It was
Ineffable harmony
And resolution became effortless
With
The touch of his hand.

He is
The Wings of the Dawn,
A Sweeping Rapture
That raised
Me
Beyond the stratosphere
Until graced by
Untarnished embrace
Of the Baptistery of the Sun.

I burst
From Light’s Intemerate Womb,
Renewed and
Gazed upon Terraqueous Gaia
Then for once,
(Yes, for all eternity)
Succumbed to
Faith in the Transcendence
Of his tender affections.

Woe was existence
Before His lightwaves radiated
Within my heart,
For when I purged my pulse
Of that quaking rhythm
And
Hollow cries
Upon his ears,
He stood moved
And remained
Doughty in his devotion
To me.

In that moment
I fathomed his soul
Glistened
O, for he had not forsook me.

I bear a pilgrimage.
One sought to be
Heard,
Seen,
Felt,
Breathed,
And
Divined
By my
Once
Somnolent spirit
Been
Roused
By the incendiary thew of
His ardor.

My revenant soul
Hath emerged from
The Chrysalis of Time as
The Apotheosis of Astral Flame
(A Reverberation of the Cosmo-Plexus of Love)
That since
The Days of Time Immemorial
Guided by the
Whisper of the stars,
I now cleave
To that celestial susurrus:

To the solace buried beneath
The Soil of Afflicition
(For anguish was all I knew)
In repose
Yet yearning to be
Resurrected
In The Dream of Acquisition,
To for eternity behold
The timeless fervor
That doth layeth
In His heart

.
mourning dove coos echo
across dawn’s dappled silence--

only these quiet pauses of breath
hush the dew droplets passive trickle

poignant traces of a solacing gravity
seep down through fogged portals,
cascading earthward from above

a symphony of pining pleas
from dew impearled wild feathers

a simple prayer of hope--

          to be held
in breathless warmth,

          in the amity                                                            ­                   .
of compassionate comfort,

       nestled intimately

beneath another’s assuaging wing


©  *wild is the wind

"Back In The Day, Yeah, when men did a little work, but
a lot of play.
Meetings at the saloon, and many times drinking
til noon.
So many pats on the back from strangers they cared
nothing about.
Just the company at a card table, or playing
craps in the back.
Yeah. Back In The Day is something today that
they cheer about.
Something though they all left out.
Their Ladies kept at home.
Probably dancing with the
kitchen broom.
Hardly ever spoken to, only when they jumped
after being told what to do.
Cleaning, and cooking. Making sure the children
were all cared for, cleaned, and dressed.
Making sure the Mother in them gave them their
best.
No respect until one day they took a stand.
They fought  back against man.
They've come a long way to show the world that
they can.
So many say. "It's a man's world."
I say. "Look at the shape it's in."
Seems we  left it impearled."

We only danced like floating shadows
in mesmerizing daydreams
                       wistfully yearning
                       to drift as light as shapeless air

Warm brush of skin seemed so tangible
across the  distant horizon
                       touching souls
                       only in the throes of musing dreams

Sailing blindly down unmapped winding river shorelines
                       tiptoes touch
                       at shallow waters’ edge

                   "Close your eyes" ...  swim afar
                       where feral currents beckon
                       waft away adrift
                       in a moonstruck daydream trance

Only in sumptuously
                       lucid night dreams
                       we swim stark-naked
                       in a sea of sublimity

Plunging into an alluring metaphysical abysm
                       into the secret titanic depths
                       azure oceans bathe

Plummeting from the edge a Utopian threshold
                       swirling beneath restless
                       swollen waves crest

Unraveling  passion’s prevailing tidal maelstrom
                       the wanton estuary
                       where lovers yearn to swim

Yet … I’ll drift away alone in this restless moonlit solitude
                       fly by night through star dust
                       showered cosmos scenes

                       crash into naked stars
                       in their luminescent splendor
Imbibe a spellbinding elixir yellow moon on the rise

Only in dreams before morning dewdrops gather
                      impearled flesh glistens
                      on the cotton beach of dawn

Awakening sighs replaced by warm enraptured whispers
                      the sensual asylum
                      passion tenderly betides

Splendidly improbable entrancing reverie
                      inspiring indefinable
                      enchanting realms

Awakening to another lonesome daybreak
                      the outgoing tide,
                      drowning in the trove
                      beautiful dreams befall


            Someone you used to know
                                2017

The Moonlit Aethers bleed Titanium Rays
As mine Forlorn Eyes
Saunter thine Porcelain Skin:

Platinum Matriarch upon Swarthy Expanse reigns
Azure Luminaries cascade
Upon The Forested Glades of my Airy Soulwaves.
Ensorcelled is that Sylvan Shrine,
The Reliquary of the Starry Wish.

(O, that
           Loveless Blight
                                  might cease)

I Besought the Firmaments
From Dusk to Dawn
Lamenting in Dirge
Of the
Revenant Skies;
Eons transcended yet no hand to hold
The Benediction of Romance
An Ephemeral Throne.

The Pandemonium corporealizes
Wraiths in my mind;
(Perdition is Thew
      The
         Poltergeist's Might)
Ivory Visage of the Impearled
Hallows my Spirit
Quells the Abyss.

The Thew of Deities
Purged from my veins
Quaking my quintessence,
I fathomed
I was naught.
A mere figment,
An existential vagary:

~BUT NOW I SEE
We are
All
But a
Dream
Clinging yearningly
to the
Promise of Hope
(The Covenant of Ensouled Dust)
Groping for Eternity, Memory, and the Lightwaves
To be
Vested in our pulse;

For Corporeality;
Ascendency
To the Chrysalis of The Astral,
The Cradle of Cosmogenesis:
Our Cosmos,
Our  Zephyr,
Our Magma,
Our Torrent,
Our Tremor,
Our Thunderclap,
Our Time,
Our Space,
Our Nexus to Efflorescence,
Our Incorporeal Sublimity~

I shall surrender to
Providence of the Supernal
His Empyrean Wings
(An Impregnable Aegis)
A Strewn Vestige once was I
But the Somnolent Beloved was roused
Whence I glimpsed into thine eyes.

The Vagrant Loveless is resurrected
Reawakened as a Doughty Knight
Warring against sequestration
(Until by Nirvana)
Abeyance devours this blight.

~Dream
       You starry-eyed wayfarers,
                Surrender sovereignty to credence
             When Star-crossed
                   Conspire against the Fates
                          For when Elysium
                                    Is your Beloved
                       The Ancient of Yore
                                Shall lead you nebulous streams
                              To the Holy Oracle
                                      Prophesying the fulfillment
                                               Of your Intemerate Hope

                                (For Love, myriads doven the skies)
                                      
                   ­               Please Believe,
                                                    Just,
                                                  Believe in me.~

Like the Autumn breeze
We must learn to breathe-
softly, slowly, chill, serene.
For in our breath,
chattering mind will cease.
inhale, exhale, feel at peace.

Like the Autumn leaves
We must learn to fall-
Mother Earth embraces all.
For in our fall,
inner strength is built
ensuring always that we won't wilt.

Like the Autumn sun
We must learn to shine-
brightly, golden, so divine.
For in our shine,
lighting up the world
and those around to feel impearled.

Like the Autumn moon
We must learn to change-
Cycles never stay the same.
For in our change,
new growth is found.
within our hearts, may we astound.

Like the Autumn song
We must learn to sing-
Stillness into everything.
For in our song,
sweet melodies.
transformation; such a precious thing.
©KSS 9/2018

On asking me why meeting you was best,
Naturally, it draws a laugh and a sigh -
So obvious my life with you is blessed,
But I will do my best with a reply:

You have given me hope about the world,
My heart has grown double because of you -
Falling in love with those two eyes impearled
With kindness and warmth and passion's there too.

You have made me want to better myself,
Given me strength and a new thirst for life
To better the world and better my health,
Which was dwindling like an old, blunting knife.

You've helped me fall in love again - a treat!
You brighten up my days and my dreams.
It was you who made me cut down on meat
(Arnie was just a good excuse it seems.)

And now that I have weighed up all of these,
I guess the next step's learning Portuguese.

My disposition dour
My mood sour
My hopes far
My writing sub-par
My love unfulfilled
My benignity killed
My despair unrivaled
My hate unbridled
My dreams lost
My fingers crossed
Your ignorance solidified
Your blushing brides
Your taut careers
Your abundance of fears
Your loving families
Your dogmatic homilies
Your sole provision,
Your myopic vision,
Your happy world
Your credulity impearled
Lost to the material world.

2020 - day 181

Monday, June 29, 2020
9:39 AM

one new day with no agenda, plenty of water and fresh air,

I walk a mile according to GPS, encouraging me
one daring deed done,

what's next? Write readable words, breathe life into readers,
read them,
without you, there are no living words, dear reader, rare
as you can imagine you are,
unique, an itty bitty unique being, on the grand scale.

Living words live in living readers... hmmm, never imagined
that,
did we become farmers first or story tellers?
it's in the meme's
more than the genes, the giants men imagined in the past
memetics passed in spiced wine mulled with stones
from the edge of fire
where we entertain such strangers as come upon us
unawares

⌱⌱

the price of my attention is what I choose to pay.
is it mine?
my attention, yes,
it
is my own to pay with.
What am I buying?
Whence comes this
currency
most valued in my time?
2020 vision plainly placed to catch
those of us,
our kind, dear readers in times of performance art
acting right... as deemed
by the academy
of performing artificers...

Daedelus, make me an imaginary universe in which I may
be mayor.
May shall be
my word, but here, in mine and mr. hicks peaceful kingdom,
may is yours to use as you will,
dear reader role deafault mode,
may being the impetus in the petition we agree to re
petere
to pass those impearled palisades of instuted gnowns
holy-way-outer-otherwise
saints and disconnected, click
st. peter -- all those pearly gate jokes, those pearls financed
nuance novus ordum did dump dump dump

-- look what the pigs ate.
-- naquered NAND gates in series, shitcity wecan go any where, from here

we could build a Yeti world from yak turds, according to
grandaughter number two's review
of Smallfoot, the -- what is this? new truth to reveal the old truth
which is this truth re

presented as drama of original intention, aimed at children,
my grandchildren,
memes reinforcing heresy as a silly gift intended for kidding... poking
stuck in the mud old dudes into the now,
your now, my future...

nice

haecceity, I think is the term that yoosto mean uni-kitty,

quit. really, as real as you may imagine --- There is a character,

known well to my granddaughter noel,
Unikitty -- quit, you are kidding
(playing by saying an unbelievable thing, testing an olden
rule,

is this that, ex-act, post-done? only kidding, we yoosto say.}

to ti esti, as Aristotle is said to have said, in Wikipedia,

{beta galactic encyclopedia, eh, 2020 tech is enough,
we can finish art ify ing the substance of hope,
set a watchman,
build on that rock,   -- kidding, I see the key peter issue lock
spring open

in my future, may hap or no, who knows?
Eh?
He knows what grows, who knows what seed he sows.}

Were we to agree we listen to voices singing the same tune,
often in time with more mind in default
wandering mode, fretless, fectless functional bliss,

in some songs we get carried a way, a meme away a meme away
we
leavened a world with new hope ***, and boom,
babies, all over the world,

and war claims the reason... the worth to be set on historic scale,
of winning the power of the
cultural corporate mind's will to POWER, bogus sci-******* vision,

woe is us, the truth has been eradicated,

we stand, one nation, under God... since the summer of 1954.

But words and pictures, now, for history, we have witnesses
who, technically, cannot lie.

we have moving pictures in technicolor with grand artworks of music
tuning us in to to

to ti esti, the what it is question's answer. What it is?
Word, old dude, Blue Mountain Rastaman, to ti esti, be

******* way t'say what it is. Tiswhatis.

Watchadoinswatchadoin t'me. I'm fine. Made up m'mind t' be agreeable.
Jes' don' lie, fit me to d' T. {wink} AI mind if you mind, but not much.