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"importuning" poems
A dream lies dead here. May you softly go Before this place, and turn away your eyes, Nor seek to know the look of that which dies Importuning Life for life. Walk not in woe, But, for a little, let your step be slow. And, of your mercy, be not sweetly wise With words of hope and Spring and tenderer skies. A dream lies dead; and this all mourners know: Whenever one drifted petal leaves the tree-- Though white of bloom as it had been before And proudly waitful of fecundity-- One little loveliness can be no more; And so must Beauty bow her imperfect head Because a dream has joined the wistful dead!
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A Dream Lies Dead
It can all be found down on Strutton Ground, or on Victoria Street,where the Angels meet up once a week to seek out worthy causes, in between and between the pauses of the traffic that rushes past,eyes are cast among the cats eyes that sprawl on roads so lazily and look to see the racing of humanity. Fleeting are the fleet of foot that shut away ,what, but only if they knew are people just like me and you. And tanks tread leaden legs and heads no longer full,pull doleful souls to where the Angels stand and lend a hand. Victoria has many palaces but palisades they'll all become,importuning what light there was and opportunities are light because, the work has dried up,tied up in the red tape of black crepe soled shoes that use the halls of parliament and only to abuse the lost,the friendless and the night seems never endless for this section of society.
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Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 3:31 AM UTC
Universal credits
—Beneath the same sky, We all exist. We all love.   We all pray. One sky, one destiny, one spirit, one heart.    I’m a vagrant; Betwixt two realms: The Spirit, The flesh; Truth is arcane Undefined variables in   A paradoxical equation:   Aberrant; abstract; anomalous; Like a stellar black hole Devouring the light of the stars. Of Dereliction; desolation; The Cloister of Trials remains unsolved. As my fulfilled yearning, proves Naught but lust; Disappointment; depravity. Somewhere, someone   Bears the Key   To this fragmented, Daydream-dazed, Sky-gazer's heart. —Beneath the same sky, We all exist. We all love.   We all pray. One sky, one destiny, one spirit, one heart. Chaos chastises, schism spurns, My envenomed psyche is deluged by pain. A torrent of trepidations, surges through my veins; Yet, Couer reigns triumphant Upon my Soul Scape. Heavenward I gaze, importuning   The Father of Celestial Lights Perhaps this felled Paladin of Light Canst gain solace in stillness, Perhaps he can transcend the soulborne fight. Yet and still, Sorrow reigneth supreme, Burnishes a fervid sting Upon this Silenc’d Songbird’s Requiem for a Dream. He awaits salvation, A transcendent beckoning To rise, rise, Like the diamonded Moon, Absolving Nox ad Caelum The Song in his Soul Is a Paean of Lovelight, Vanquishing the bedarkening veil That is the Shadow of sorrow. There is no Light apart from Dark; There is no Aether apart from Nether; The Astral begets the Umbral. All things are one. (O, Chiaroscuro) When anguish arrives, Succumb not to the deathly pangs, Rather, doven the aethers That the Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love   Aegis thee. We were conceived Upon the Hierachy of Sacrality, Her divine order is A transcendent bounty To those holy. Apropos of Providence, We burst into bloom As Children of Freedom Burgeoning aloft the soil of The Gracious Gaian Mother. The soul is a seed, sown in spirit, every struggle, Every trial, every tribulation, bestows The Eradia of Yggdrasil Until we Effloresce anew. Fathom the thew in utterances, Understand the sinew in silence, Know that ye are precious; Believe that Ye art loved. (Se’ lah)
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Jun 8, 2020
Jun 8, 2020 at 12:34 PM UTC
Beneath The Same Sky (Originally Written on Wednesday, March 18th, 2020)
—Beneath the same sky, We all exist. We all love.   We all pray. One sky, one destiny, one spirit, one heart.    I’m a vagrant; Betwixt two realms: The Spirit, The flesh; Truth is arcane Undefined variables in   A paradoxical equation:   Aberrant; abstract; anomalous; Like a stellar black hole Devouring the light of the stars. Of Dereliction; desolation; The Cloister of Trials remains unsolved. As my fulfilled yearning, proves Naught but lust; Disappointment; depravity. Somewhere, someone   Bears the Key   To this fragmented, Daydream-dazed, Sky-gazer's heart. —Beneath the same sky, We all exist. We all love.   We all pray. One sky, one destiny, one spirit, one heart. Chaos chastises, schism spurns, My envenomed psyche is deluged by pain. A torrent of trepidations, surges through my veins; Yet, Couer reigns triumphant Upon my Soul Scape. Heavenward I gaze, importuning   The Father of Celestial Lights Perhaps this felled Paladin of Light Canst gain solace in stillness, Perhaps he can transcend the soulborne fight. Yet and still, Sorrow reigneth supreme, Burnishes a fervid sting Upon this Silenc’d Songbird’s Requiem for a Dream. He awaits salvation, A transcendent beckoning To rise, rise, Like the diamonded Moon, Absolving Nox ad Caelum The Song in his Soul Is a Paean of Lovelight, Vanquishing the bedarkening veil That is the Shadow of sorrow. There is no Light apart from Dark; There is no Aether apart from Nether; The Astral begets the Umbral. All things are one. (O, Chiaroscuro) When anguish arrives, Succumb not to the deathly pangs, Rather, doven the aethers That the Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love   Aegis thee. We were conceived Upon the Hierachy of Sacrality, Her divine order is A transcendent bounty To those holy. Apropos of Providence, We burst into bloom As Children of Freedom Burgeoning aloft the soil of The Gracious Gaian Mother. The soul is a seed, sown in spirit, every struggle, Every trial, every tribulation, bestows The Eradia of Yggdrasil Until we Effloresce anew. Fathom the thew in utterances, Understand the sinew in silence, Know that ye are precious; Believe that Ye art loved. (Se’ lah)
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Alas Dear Madam Alas, dear Madam, have I thee wronged by gesture, savage word, or deed, thus giving thee cause for sorrow, importuning your heart to bleed? Have I, dear Madam, given thee injury so rank and so low as to merit your cool design to suffer me the status quo? Dear Madam, have I deceived thee and showered thee with silken lies, or primed thee with honeyed words that cloak dark purpose in disguise? Nay, dear Madam, no wrong to thee did I meanly perpetrate. no grievous sin did I commit, nor cold insult dedicate. My grossest error, dear Madam, was to unknowingly explore the pride sleeping in your ***** and its delicacy ignore. So, dear Madam, please forgive me for the numb bruises I thee gave to that one part of a woman which no man should ever brave.
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Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 1:14 AM UTC
Alas Dear Madam
Then key in the numbers one by one  tell all your secrets and soon there'll be none. This is the engine stall, out  if gas is the  end and I fall. Thirty two times thirty two  and every second  I drop  I drop closer  and closer  to you. Hit the ground running. All is opportunity where  the hustler is  importuning me  one of us is seldom free  to turn a trick or turn  the other cheek next week marks  another scar, Life  so far  advanced  but with a backflip  we could have danced  with flowers in our hair. Yesterday is somewhere  yet somehow can't be found, at thirty two times thirty two. I hit the ground running.
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May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 4:05 AM UTC
Semispheres
The blank page lies before me, the hour being late. As Inspiration is lacking,perspiration takes its place. My deadline approaches and I have barely writ a line. My Muse finds this amusing and I find her most unkind Crumpled ***** of paper mark how I spend my time. Clearly I am no Durant behind the three point line All I have accomplished is to waste a pad and ink Indeed why do I bother; who cares what poets think? Her hand upon my shoulder, Her lips upon my cheek. Her eyes are importuning, there is no need to speak. She lures me from my garret; she takes me to her lair. Her perfume- intoxicating. she has me in her snare. I know what you are thinking; that I should be more devout. Dedicate myself to writing, cut the "monkey business" out. I am no fan of Lovelace now, nor was I one before When my Lucasta calls you will not see me off to war.
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Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 10:45 PM UTC
A welcome interruption