"juried" poems
What if I let you read my poems?
A window to my prowess
The edible part of this eccentric fruit
The beauty of this beast
The justification of this tongue-tied pride
What if I let you see me?
In an unexpected lightning
Caught off guard
No consciousness for good or bad
No apology, no self-regard
A mind without dogma or dead ends
No societal influence
Juried by mere conscience
So much love, so much violence
Hasty vengeance by the ARTLESS
Derailed from logic and peer reference
Governed by wimps and impulses
Nutrition and ***********
Nutrition and ***********
Mankind’s infamous purpose
Now..
Now let us go back to the green hill
The good soothsayer's teaching
The shackles of our being
Let us close our eyes... and Breathe
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 6:28 AM UTC
Douse ye flame snub thou to ashes
Bury well thine reserved stashes
...and plead tears hath no mercy
CURSE YE!
Sir, see your deeds cause pleurisy
Neural’s feed off chaos’s vitae stench
whence did ye awaken as a corpse?
Denounce ye faith scrub scour ye caches
Hurry, Hell’s cries serve blasphemes
...and in thine end a fury
WORRY!
For ye shall be judged and juried
Scurry til ye nails wear to a dusting
lusting for a life once lived no more...
Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 4:01 PM UTC
Without sinking through the spheres. Hymns betting, still hands crisp under the wings. The wind slumbering, stays in the dark spaces. Eleven invisible pages, over. Any other name- Lux Arabesque, Uuqui Haratas, Preset: 117, and the foil.
The mirrored valley’s strangest flora, sifts the decorated thriving trails. Then it can all become an infinite weave in this world where lazy whistling sand dunes beyond, claim the rights to a juried Spring. Then somehow it may recant this glorious history we’ve only barely known. The potent eyes starved by madness, waxes seas and radio fields, slimming the loops that rip into hinges and dispel a tryst.
Toward Earth’s serene prelude, this pageantry of standard masks make ascending towers just and stately. Then come the planets we’ve always loved: Mars, Neptune, and Jupiter too. Barefoot and staggering through the modern coolness of a colossal spring, aching mental itching grows. Until the fruits have fallen into the cloven shadows. Until buried stones alit with day consecrate these omens and conceive such lucid strings to break these quiet thieves into song.
Then the diary belies this affair. The steins upset the tales where pungent fleshy working minds coalesce. Observe the horses play in their endings, upon the wild mountain rivers where felling human eyes wander amidst these cleaved and sun-drenched desert mounds.
Pt. II
In origins uplifting diets foretell the escaped seams of darkness whose lofty tongues of nature’s prose lift the veiled hours’ wraith. Never pressing bells nor raked by shivers, it occurs swiftly should the marbled rushing master call. Above the sound of narrow whispers, comes the wishing hands to shout.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 2:28 PM UTC
A victims needs
becomes the same
as everything that I want
In this invisible room
sending certain signals
I've been crucified until this
the very end
Without anymore ways
or means
As the heavy weights
come to last longer
And I only never
become any stronger
Living with the lies and the fears
all alone
But does anyone really know
the trouble I have seen?
Juried
only never allowed
as you pick this poor souls
bones clean
-Like a descending-
My life's on the ground
like someone's empty wish
left unfound
and drowned
As in this place I call home
becomes to me as being like
nothingness
And Angels stand
in the corners
spreading symbols
Does anyone see them?
or is it just me
looking for thoughts
in my head
As to why and for the meanings
of what's being lost
and what's being said?
A happy face
in an unhappy man
I'm just another ruined
life
without an unfinished mission
But can I bare
this cross
As I'm still going 'round and 'round
still searching for
something
I'm only left unsatisfied
just trying
to survive
With a grain of salt
and ignorance towards what I see
and what I feel
In an unfamiliar world
not of the plan...
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 11:34 PM UTC
Bittersweet Toni's dream
An illusion I've fallen for it seems
An indentured slave I am revolting against this circumstance
A lot have been said but little reveal
Judged and juried by levels of nothing.
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 6:31 PM UTC
Why is love, my only pain,
My heart in hostage, forever vain,
Sadness masks behind my smile,
My life a juried, senseless trial.
For love is often just an ache,
To not perhaps a life mistake,
Is nothing more than nothing less,
As always, life is just a guess.
Feb 27, 2021
Feb 27, 2021 at 1:38 PM UTC