"inviolable" poems
See, they return; ah, see the tentative
Movements, and the slow feet,
The trouble in the pace and the uncertain
Wavering!
See, they return, one, and by one,
With fear, as half-awakened;
As if the snow should hesitate
And murmur in the wind,
and half turn back;
These were the “Wing’d-with-Awe,”
Inviolable.
Gods of the wingèd shoe!
With them the silver hounds,
sniffing the trace of air!
Haie! Haie!
These were the swift to harry;
These the keen-scented;
These were the souls of blood.
Slow on the leash,
pallid the leash-men!
4k
Space and dread and the dark--
Over a livid stretch of sky
Cloud-monsters crawling, like a funeral train
Of huge, primeval presences
Stooping beneath the weight
Of some enormous, rudimentary grief;
While in the haunting loneliness
The far sea waits and wanders with a sound
As of the trailing skirts of Destiny,
Passing unseen
To some immitigable end
With her grey henchman, Death.
What larve, what spectre is this
Thrilling the wilderness to life
As with the ****** shape of Fear?
What but a desperate sense,
A strong foreboding of those dim
Interminable continents, forlorn
And many-silenced, in a dusk
Inviolable utterly, and dead
As the poor dead it huddles and swarms and styes
In hugger-mugger through eternity?
Life--life--let there be life!
Better a thousand times the roaring hours
When wave and wind,
Like the Arch-Murderer in flight
From the Avenger at his heel,
Storm through the desolate fastnesses
And wild waste places of the world!
Life--give me life until the end,
That at the very top of being,
The battle-spirit shouting in my blood,
Out of the reddest hell of the fight
I may be snatched and flung
Into the everlasting lull,
The immortal, incommunicable dream.
4.7k
We were two introverts
surrounded by an infestation
of the dipsomania and delight.
Ingested by white noise,
flashing lights
and sin,
we stood sheltered behind conservatism
and our cocktails.
This technophonic cave
was crammed with lascivious men
modeling their lavish kicks and threads
in pursuit of non-commitment.
With our backs pressed firmly
against our salutary wall,
we felt inviolable.
But then, you turned to me.
Your chandelier earrings exploded
the luminescence and trepidation
into a million particles,
and through the deafening roar
of pandemonium and decadence,
you offered a wink and said,
“Let’s dance.”
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 4:11 AM UTC
Forgetting is the only clarity.
It was a day of forgetting.
No unquiet dreams or
casual reunions with the dead
who wander the halls of sleep,
the bodies of someone else’s loss.
No ghosts in the gazebo.
No echoes in the fading light.
Exiting sleep’s empty waiting room,
She woke. Blue sky blinked into her eyes.
The room’s climate began to clear.
There was writing on the wall.
Old fragments came to closure.
The windows slowly turned to mirrors.
She fiddled. She soared.
She played with her ancestors’ building blocks.
She lent a myth to god.
She stood in a garden with five black stones.
She foretold an eclipse,
Burned the witch of winter,
Stepped in the same river twice.
The moment froze.
Then there it was.
The compound inviolate paradox
at the heart of things,
the answer flickering in light and shade,
to the sound of a child’s voice,
then the roaring wind.
She chuckled as it faded to a point of light
then vanished, like the picture on an old TV,
Like the moon shrinking into the alarm clock’s face.
Her breath brewed clouds above her forehead.
She sat aloof in the empty air,
Alone in the immense morning,
At rest in this inviolable disconnection,
the clear cold innocence of now.
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 4:22 PM UTC
Frozen moments,
embraced,
visions of
luminous things,
unpretentious
pearls dancing;
embers of memory linger,
elegy of the lachrymose,
this horizoning self
lying low in saturnine
tranquility
and repose – paternity lost
to the provisional.
The cross of lassitude,
forming
scars of loss;
estrangement,
preface to
ineluctable autonomy.
Earthen treasure - immortal
footprints, the migration
of fair maidens across my
effusive heart.
Venus trio in bloom,
aesthetic allusion,
ephemeral incarnations
of beauty - perishable fruit,
transcending the plebeian.
Aerial substance-
the hermeneutic,
betraying desire’s
ambrosial tyranny;
The permuted passage -
savor the sojourn, submit
to the fated peregrination.
Purple orchids blossom,
immortal creatures,
culminating
in perfection
from the sheath
respectively,
each plume,
singular,
the continuum of
splendor, mediate
the inviolable.
Eternity compounding,
time and essence suffuse
the already and not yet
into an
orbiting mosaic.
The susurrant devotions
of a satellite father,
summon the quest -
both, and,
absence and proximity,
conduits of
distress and peace
ironically,
solace and
terror
traverse the
same path.
Plunge though,
deep, the depth of pain;
deeper, sweeter
the taste of pleasure.
Engender and witness,
window into
preeminence,
surface azure,
the sacred -
inimitable gravity of
grandeur,
ma petite,
you - are
lived poetry
seen and heard;
cosmic order,
a mediating heuristic -
to love is to see,
in the dismal,
gift of distance.
child of delight,
evermore, Don’t I hold you?
Beauty and strangeness,
music found
in linear,
secret places
beyond the tangent,
purview of limitation,
arousing imagination -
infinititude as near
as it is far.
Long loneliness -
dissonance that
resolves;
perceiving,
the tertiary refrain -
as exquisite verse,
and matchless liqueur,
sublime gratuity
derived
through
doors of surrender.
Daughter,
in adoration and wonder,
I hold you.
Jan 19, 2012
Jan 19, 2012 at 5:25 PM UTC
987
The Leaves like Women interchange
Exclusive Confidence—
Somewhat of nods and somewhat
Portentous inference.
The Parties in both cases
Enjoining secrecy—
Inviolable compact
To notoriety.
2k
i.
Lief O' Lief, or the gloaming,
Inly beholding; the imperium
Betwixt ourn palm's.
ii.
Beckowing song's, thro the chamber's
And corridor's; Crystal chandeliers,
Whites in the luster that Pierce.
iii.
An abatjour, bringing elan up through the floor's,
A woo for mine girl;
Mi amour', mi amour'.
iv.
We shalt accend, adamantine. Adaxial, tacent in talk;
Taction bloprined. Jerusalem's city, renewed, refined.
Inviolable Yeshua; afar off, Jesus abideth here,
readeth the sign.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prophetic poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( àgapi mou) dedication
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 9:37 PM UTC
Unfolding into itself, inviolable
in prosaic self-penetration,
a boundless repertoire
of shape yearns forth surreptitiously
from inscrutable amniotes to claim
time as its own:
Here a thicket
of sycamores, there a baldaquin
of pinnate branches, yonder
a periphery of marigolds, below
a cacophony of hyraxes, above
the corpuscle of a lynx, the mid-flight
jink of a darting swift and moribund
crawl of a mollusk;
Hymenoptera coaxing
their haploid broods into teeming
life as a cell of the swarm
and viviparous apes cajoling
suckling chimerae at the fathomless
fountainhead of a rosy breast;
Higher still,
Cirrus cephalopods traversing
the trench of sky, dandelions
hitch-hiking the drift of a barren plains'
wavering hum on cockchafers'
forewings and a turbine's
bombinating pulse, the chattering
of roots ravenous for depth --
Jittering bangtails the hallowed echoes
of lascivious manes --
inchoate sprout-hood the daedal
nonage of towering evergreens --
the plaintive shrift of elegiac
redbreasts a goad to silent elation --
A likeness unlike
(vocabularies of vertiginous blinds)
(the eyes of ignorance closing)
(the mouth of the mystery)
that spurns the truth of tongues
is nature naturing.
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
Cute girl, a dove
You grew up expectant
Of an inviolable love.
But,know there are things
You should, such as
Unfold the unexpected could.
Cute girl, ingratiatingly enjoying
A green light
To the citadel of your girlhood
At the height of your virginal beauty
Holding you close ****
Adept in creating the required mood,
A fickle womanizer may
Suddenly leave you for good!
Sister you should have
Seen through
Mr. Fickle's lack of personal
Integrity and internal beauty.
So cute girl ,please brush aside
Your self pity packed song
"My love for Mr.Fickle,who adorned
with my chastity, is
matchless and strong!"
Also cute girl , know you should
Punishing Mr.Fiddle
For Mr.Fickle's mistake
Is the worst displacement
You could make.
Thus cute girl
Better focus on the fact
You will be an efficacious cure
To a genuine lover yearning
For you with a heart pure!
The love lorn
Mr.Fidel,probably
Injured by Miss.Fickle,
Terribly clamors for your help
To nurse him and
To get him back in shape.
The past you will
Cease to rewind
Soul and body
With lovelorn Mr.Fiddle
When you get entwined!
When pricked with a thorn
Barefooted farmers
Pull out the thorn
With a thorn
So cute girl pull out
The ungrateful Mr.Fickle
With the grateful Mr.Fiddle
That way the problem
You could settle!
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 12:03 PM UTC
"There is an appointed time for everything, /
A time for every activity /
under the heavens;" /
—Ecclesiastes 3: 1 (NWTSE) /
A season has departed, /
A season has begun, /
The Circle of Life continues, /
A legacy remains undone. /
The gauntlets I have transcended, /
Have diamonded my soul; /
Therefore, I offer this solemn petition /
Knowing the fight remains to be won. /
In time, there will be tribulations /
But this heart stands adamantine, /
These eyes remain dauntless, /
My spirit is forevermore unphased. /
A time of self- (re) discovery /
Has burgeoned anew, /
We will all metamorphose /
If we look to the future bemused. /
Your potentialities are enormous; /
Together, we are a fulgurant storm. /
Rise, rise, young stalwarts /
You are a Spark of The Divine. /
The experiential cascade is perpetual, /
Incessantly persevere, /
May wisdom inhabit each one of us, /
May we each forsake not to love. /
A chrysalis has unraveled /
Diaphanous wings have been borne, /
Doubt not inviolable beauty /
Always, abides in the light. /
(—Se' lah)
07-18-2021
Jul 18, 2021
Jul 18, 2021 at 4:47 PM UTC
A burgeoning dream /
That proliferates /
Even as my physical body /
Wanes /
A lingering will /
That compels me forth every day of my life. /
Dreams are the quintessence of life: /
Ineffably rare & tender. /
Dreams give me hope /
They instill within me the fortitude /
The impetus /
To bring them to fruition. /
But sometimes /
I fathom the fulfillment of the promise
/
Shall ne’ er come to pass, /
As though I am not enough /
As though I will remain /
In limbo. /
I beseech The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love /
That my dreams are fulfilled. /
A wish is inviolable power /
Cast in the light of reverie; /
Therefore, I await the day /
When my prayers are fulfilled. /
(—Se’ lah)
09-05-2025
Sep 8, 2025
Sep 8, 2025 at 9:50 AM UTC
Manifestive
.. Appeal;
Perceptive
… manner;
Presentative
… charms;
…the wit of a Mad-hatter.
Perceptively perplexing
Both friend and foe;
Degradative
…praises
A mirror image…
I know.
Charade debacle
A farce..
Calamity divine;
Concert in crisis
Drama‘s
… entwine.
Spectaculative Improv
A living excuse
Performing inviolable;
A trist… with Mother-goose.
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
And she opens her arms
to the sides
Dances
with the coronary
ethereal flowers
ambrosial to the heart
A mimic
inviolable
In the same frequency
of the touch
of the lotus
encircling
my waist
one body
Divine
an indispensable
Lucid trace
to a mind pure
A volatile image of the
universe
in the universe
as the universe
and
almost always there
to be dispersed
like condensed vapor
for the enlightenment
of the other - unaware
of the truth of the self
Rising
from the crest
light of I
the only reason of I
My love dancing
now
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 8:21 AM UTC
we stopped believing the agora of the mind
our souls empty rooms colliding
full of amnesia on incessant roads
walls of flesh we were on the edge of terror,
steel confused with clarity
souls plucked like nails inside ruins
suffocated tales & archives of illusion
the shadow is closer to the center only
in the diaries of the blind
no hole of god is dead, we ***** fresh prophets
with inviolable gaze
for the sublime and holy in our sweat
believing is seeing the most lethal duel
the one and only the fake divine
who thinks alone on a road with no views
he planted spotlights in their eyes
for everybody to see only the world in his arms
hate kept in empty milk bottles
life is this schweitzer, passers-by were saying,
it has taste but only in foreign countries,
with their fists in pain caressing concrete asphalt turbines
as in quick sands no muscle was moving
carboard smiles unprotected against the evacuation of desire
wooden language didn't invent choice
no decomposition of the edges the totalitarian thought inside
the narcosis of time merciless
the clouds lost their sound we still don't look at each other
no hypothesis of sight no discharge for humiliation
wither souls made history grappling bending
twisting nonconsensual reality
no destiny for the allegory of truth
there are no angles of sight
facts become beasts
holy cannot be anybody's name
repelling of the heart beat
Mar 11, 2023
Mar 11, 2023 at 10:12 AM UTC
Division runs rampant through unity on the break
Torches flare as rage flickers smoldering kindling to flame
Erupting the perpetual boils that fester beyond infections wake
Fearful that lives saved are endangered for propagandas sake
Nay, the divisions that split rip to shreds the patriotic fabric
Shorn to threads amiable friendships that broach enmity
Between brothers bound by blood shared
Bleeding red in concealed unison given to each at birth
As mighty Gaia trembles under the weight of shrugging Atlas
Beseeching the old gods to return to former glories
Resting lonesome Olympus from its divine pantheon
To quake and shake the shared foundations built
Atop mountains of lies stacked one after another
Before the heavens part and holy Elysium repels
The hearts of both men and women who dared divide
A house unified on sacrosanct liberties inherent
Gifted to the corruptible souls of humanity
On the premise that justice should be for all
That hold the highest values inviolable
By any that would rabble-rouse the masses to forgo
The established law of the land on such flawed premises
Where words hold greater authority than actions convey
And peace is but a pipe dream puffed in perfect rings translucent
Fading before the light has a chance to cast dark shadows
Imperfect in their reflection yet somehow flawless in impression
Oh, if only we were not like that famous allegory
Confined to our own individual caves
Then maybe our eyes could open wide and once again
Let in the truth that we have for too long allowed to blind us in hate
Perhaps the fates would halt their furies
And end our shared torment avoidable
Unifying a once noble people to again stand proud
A beacon to a world begging for freedom
Clearing the fog of war and lighting the path
Back to the house we once called home
By L.R.Thompson
Aug 24, 2021
Aug 24, 2021 at 12:05 AM UTC
She sits on the bed and reads me
Old poetry
About ****** sadness, and loss
All synonyms
For the same affliction really
Dysfunction and despair
Captured in yellowed archival snapshots
Of a girl
With a penchant for surviving pain
Mortality leaps
From the prose as she reviews her life
In hellish imagery
A transmutation of spirit occurs
Within her
As she drifts through the years
On each page
Melancholy awareness for us both realizing
That it's all real
No one can take away the scars that
Every word cuts
No one can deny the inviolable fortitude
Required to document
The war embedded and entrenched on the front lines
Just old poetry
To me they resonate like a distant bell
Her sudden silence
Whispers that the dead still scream her name
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 7:03 PM UTC
Righteous' presence
and innocents' innocence
Pleasant fragrance
the Essence’s essence
Sparrows nest
in cherub's presence
Leaping loyal dogs
wagging effervescence
But cats sleep,
without care, blatant nonchalance
Beauty’s transcendence
and inviolable permanence
Musical cadence
in timeless immanence
Elephants' endless patience
and endurance
Hummingbirds whizzing
winged iridescence
Orchids blooming
riotous inflorescence
And monarchs live and die
in glorious ignorance.
Nov 10, 2019
Nov 10, 2019 at 12:47 AM UTC
I write your good-bye letter over the course of two days.
I started-over seven times—hunched, under the weight.
These worn pages and spilt ink, remember your name-
I hear it softly murmured among their rustling grain-
And as mine fades from the aged oak of your sprawling bed frame--
There is nothing left here for me.
My pen falls as the climbing-cry of cold morning comes,
With a quaking in my wrist, and sharp silence in my gums;
The patchwork quilt is half-hazard, and snaked across the floor-
Where your tremolos dreams had tossed it-the night before,
And only your body’s ghost-imprinted on the mattress-do I look for-
Because there is nothing here left for me.
It’d been fun, I suppose; like Peter and Wendy, infinite and young-
We’d drawn together and merged; then delighted, we had run-
From the duty of daily, the city-those mechanical ghosts scattered among,
And the curtains of riches-in the air, which we’d spun-
Had garnished all of our days; a honeyed veneer of ambient sun!
Yet severe as the prophets-or poor Noah in God’s storm-
In the corners voracious shadows gladly took form
With the slipping lines of your smilem, the lingering chill round the door-
Fall had swept in violent: laughter-dead then, was mercilessly tore-
From our wild-flower wind-pipes, that once inviolable, bore-
Proof of something here left for me.
Now aching, I crease the note crisply and vainly, do try,
Turning it caged, between frail-bird fingers, to descry-
The moment opulence burned, and from the ashes recast-
Mocking imitations: these edacious phantoms! Aghast!
Howbeit! Were we not unassailable then! United, so certain to last--?
Yet just silence, is here left for me.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 4:00 AM UTC
Vast realm
of
lifeless bodies roaming the streets
souls headed in no particular direction
achromatic skies roll on eternally
the seemingly colossal heap of rotted decayed yesterdays
indistinguishable
men with not the faintest inkling of a mission
encaged by the desolate frozen grounds he once roamed freely
enslaved by his own ruthless vindictive mind
exuding gusts of bitter, bone chilling air
overpowering
encapsulating
ensnaring me in its wrath.
And I,
I so invincible,
I so inviolable..
I Crumble.
Just like that.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 12:03 PM UTC
Several idolatrous revolutions
of the Earth:
Supposedly the inviolable law
and declaration of potential.
To be told among the hive
that the honey is not sweet enough,
or the fate of conception
was too delayed,
is to sentence a mind
to a long-fused and
intemperate wait
The debt of youth must surely be paid,
but alas – too few summers have I known
and I have yet to feel that doppler swing
to the right; my hands are still soft;
my taste is still keen; I have never made
nor broken a vow.
So I am settled to deflate
to penitently delineate
and I hold you – arbitrator -
to your word.
Jul 1, 2010
Jul 1, 2010 at 7:14 AM UTC
We are afraid
As we give you aid
We have the liberty
To maneuver your head
To the extent your are
Deprived a go ahead
To tend
Your self-development
And self -reliance
Seedbed.
"When money speaks
the truth is silent"
If you want to continue
Our client
Remember you're macilent
So try not to be violent
Fighting back with" Though
I'm poor I 'm somebody!"
'Cause, snobbish, we may prefer
This budy from that budy.
Don't be naughty
There is nothing
As such inviolable
Sovereignty.
A budy
That does not
Help better optimize
Our advantage
Shoddy, could not
Come to the same page.
Note also
We could pull strings
And to loan givers tell
"When we speak
Wag your tail!"
Sep 5, 2020
Sep 5, 2020 at 7:48 AM UTC
§
She wields waves of want
that paralyze my flight.
Even if I wanted to, I couldn't,
wouldn't leave.
The quest for her touch consumes my all.
So I turn inexorably
to meet her once again.
Her hand covers my eyes
the old lovers game,
I feel her rapid breath on my neck
as her lips graze my skin,
teasing
as usual.
Guess who she sighs
as she kisses my ear,
moves to my neck
nibbles oh so gently,
***** oh so lightly.
My love I say
as I crumble with my lust
and we fall
embracing
neither willing to let go
for even a moment.
Fall to the ground hard
hurting my back,
but as she prys open my grimace
with her tongue
the pain disappears.
There is only pleasure when she is near
delicious inviolable embrace,
the world shifts its axis
as clothes are shredded,
skin reddened
flushed with blood,
anticipation
and rough hands.
Before our tryst is consummated
just as she arrived
she is gone.
I cry out into the darkness
Come back!
Maybe later
comes her throaty response...
If you earn it.
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 4:05 AM UTC
Happy birthday
To the girl with the strongest heart
The girl who won't cry
To the girl who has been put down
The girl who has learned to fly
To the girl who has faught her wars
the girl who do not wile
To the girl who has learned to face her scars
the girl who has learned to smile
To the girl who has the prettiest smile
The girl who is meant to be inviolable
To the girl who laughs her heart out
The girl who is so able.
To the girl with the brightest soul
The girl strong enough to walk alone
To the girl with the sweetest heart
The princess to a throne
To the girl with the deepest eyes
The girl who can make the flowers sing
To the girl who sometimes cries
The girl whose tears fall like a diamond on a ring
To the girl sweeter than the sugar
The girl you look at her for a while
To the girl who can turn sorrow to joy
The girl who can make you smile
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 6:31 AM UTC
“*But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm gettin' older, too*”
lyric from “Landslide” by Stevie Nicks
<>
climbing stairs, balancing two breakfasts,
two fill-to-brim-rims warning sloshing,
earbuds in place, always,
lest the news
interrupts and plunges me first thing into
moody murderous disheartened failure,
and Miz Minx Nicks lays me low
this lyric knocks me to rock,
there and then,
consequences be ****** the unstoppable
lyric rocks grinding me to an
immovable halt,
all spills,
don’t care, for the need to scream-
bleed-finally
write to understand why these
a l w a y s words arrest my soul
children
the most costly thing anyone can
create,
the lost, the found
the ones in the grave way too early,
and the ones who were born
knowing better,
children
whose inviolable sense of
totally righteousness
makes forgiveness
disabled, disallowed
for the poor clueless fools
them who naively know~nothings
who chose to raise them
here I am not getting,
no, unsteadily unreadily
too late
am older,
up-to the shaking-head age
so unexpected,
almost ridiculous
untimely unthinkable
‘cept for:
*it’s an impossiblity ~
and just
don’t understand this injustice
perpetrated upon this
unsuspecting and in denial,
sorrowful old man*
so I weep
on the steps so steep,
Woman comes to see if I'm
fallen,
my wailing at the realization of
my losses all
totally tallied
is heavy much more than
my now empty hands,
but busy them,
attempting to staunch the
flowing
overwhelming regrets that
gush from every pore,
and that no one can
ever be cleansed,
and the permance of
stains
for I am only
getting older too
killing me
way too slowly
Nov 2, 2024
Nov 2, 2024 at 8:47 AM UTC
A night is born
full of false holes
dead sounds
like the corks
of nets trailed in the water.
Your hands bring a breath
of inviolable distances
as elusive as ideas.
And the ambiguous sway
of the moon, of the gentlest,
if you rest your eyes on me,
touches the spirit.
You’re the woman who passes by
like a leaf.
And bequeaths an autumn flame to the trees.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC