"lesbos" poems
Hymn to Aphrodite
by Sappho
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Immortal Aphrodite, throned in splendor!
Wile-weaving daughter of Zeus, enchantress, and beguiler!
I implore you, dread mistress, discipline me no longer
with love's anguish!
But come to me once again in kindness,
heeding my prayers as you have done before;
O, come Divine One, descend once again from
heaven's golden dominions!
Your chariot yoked to love's consecrated doves,
their multitudinous pinions aflutter,
you once came gliding from the utmost heights, to
the dark-bosomed earth.
Swiftly they came and vanished, leaving you,
O my Goddess, smiling, your face eternally beautiful,
asking me what unfathomable longing compelled me
to cry out.
Asking me what I sought in my hopeless, bewildered desire.
Asking, "Who has harmed you, why are you so alarmed,
my poor Sappho? Whom should
Persuasion summon here?"
"Though today she flees love, soon she will pursue you;
spurning love's gifts, soon she shall return them;
tomorrow she will woo you,
however unwillingly!"
Come to me now, most Holy Aphrodite!
Release me from my heavy heartache and anguish;
grant me all I request, be once again
my ally and protector!
"Hymn to Aphrodite" is the only poem by Sappho of ****** to survive in its entirety. The poem survived intact because it was quoted in full by Dionysus, a Roman orator, in his "On Literary Composition," published around 30 B.C. A number of Sappho's poems mention or are addressed to Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. It is believed that Sappho may have belonged to a cult that worshiped Aphrodite with songs and poetry. If so, "Hymn to Aphrodite" may have been composed for performance within the cult. We do know that Sappho was held in very high regard. For instance, when Sappho visited Syracuse the residents were so honored they erected a statue to commemorate the occasion! During Sappho's lifetime, coins of ****** were minted with her image. Furthermore, Sappho was called "the Tenth Muse" and the other nine were goddesses. Keywords/Tags: Sapphic, Sappho, ****** translation, ancient Greek, hymn, Aphrodite, Zeus, daughter, immortal, goddess, holy, lady, heaven, enchantress, enchantment, love potion, charm, spell, persuasion, beguiler, beguilement, mistress, discipline, ********** prayer, prayers, chariot, heaven, descent, ally, protector, lust, desire, passion, longing, *** crush, girlfriend, women, grief
Mar 22, 2020
Mar 22, 2020 at 2:51 AM UTC
Dear Hot Straight Actresses,
Stop playing perfect lesbian characters on TV that cause me to become wet on lonely Thursday nights.
It’s the equivalent of waving double chocolate fudge cake in front of a menstruating woman who has just been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes.
To name a few,
Jennifer Beals as Bette Porter on The L Word.
Stop it!
Naya Rivera as the sassy Santana Lopez on Glee.
Stop it!
Angie Harmon as butch goddess Detective Jane Rizzoli on Rizzoli & Isles.
You may be in the closet but you are gay and stop!
And Sara Ramirez and Jessica Capshaw as the married ****** Dr. Cali Torrez and Dr. Arizona Robbins of Grey’s Anatomy.
You…you keep going. You two give me hope.
Hope that someday my insanely high expectations will be met when my hot art collecting, sassy mouthed Doctor with handcuffs in her back pocket jumps from the screen and onto my sweatpants covered lap.
In this crazy assumption that I’ll end up falling out of an apple tree letting gravity push me into the arms of a woman who fixes my broken sense of reality with a amazing great hair and a wedding proposal.
Missing out on the
Hot barista who gives me an extra large when I ask for a small
or the
Budding **** artist who invites me to her galleries only to realize her muse has oddly the same hips as me.
or the
Best friend who is still stuck in the shadows of my closet.
Nope…didn’t see any of those.
I’m too busy watching the **** tube to see what low cut tops they can get away with before they leave the set and back to their husband and 2.5 kids.
All I’m asking is…
…when is it coming out on DVD?
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 7:17 AM UTC
Hymn to Aphrodite
by Sappho (her only complete poem)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Immortal Aphrodite, throned in splendor!
Wile-weaving daughter of Zeus, enchantress, and beguiler!
I implore you, dread mistress, discipline me no longer
with love's anguish!
But come to me once again in kindness,
heeding my prayers as you have done before;
O, come Divine One, descend once again from heaven's
golden dominions!
Your chariot yoked to love's consecrated doves,
their multitudinous pinions aflutter,
you once came gliding from the utmost heights, to
this dark earth.
Swiftly they came and vanished, leaving you,
O my Goddess, smiling, your face eternally beautiful,
asking me what unfathomable longing compelled me
to cry out.
Asking me what I sought in my hopeless, bewildered desire.
Asking, "Who has harmed you, why are you so alarmed,
my poor Sappho? Whom should Persuasion
summon here?"
"Though today she flees love, soon she will pursue you;
spurning love's gifts, she soon shall return them;
tomorrow she will woo you,
however unwillingly!"
Come to me now, most Holy Aphrodite!
Release me from my heavy heartache and anguish;
grant me all I request, be once again
my ally and protector!
"Hymn to Aphrodite" is the only poem by Sappho of ****** to survive in its entirety. The poem survived intact because it was quoted in full by Dionysus, a Roman orator, in his "On Literary Composition," published around 30 B.C. A number of Sappho's poems mention or are addressed to Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. It is believed that Sappho may have belonged to a cult that worshiped Aphrodite with songs and poetry. If so, "Hymn to Aphrodite" may have been composed for performance within the cult. We do know that Sappho was held in very high regard. For instance, when Sappho visited Syracuse the residents were so honored they erected a statue to commemorate the occasion! During Sappho's lifetime, coins of ****** were minted with her image. Furthermore, Sappho was called "the Tenth Muse" and the other nine were goddesses. Keywords/Tags: Sapphic, Sappho, ****** translation, ancient Greek, hymn, Aphrodite, Zeus, daughter, immortal, goddess, holy, lady, heaven, enchantress, enchantment, love potion, charm, spell, persuasion, beguiler, beguilement, mistress, discipline, ********** prayer, prayers, chariot, heaven, descent, ally, protector, lust, desire, passion, longing, *** crush, girlfriend, women, grief
Mar 1, 2020
Mar 1, 2020 at 10:53 PM UTC
I did not intend this,
A lust for soft hands, lips like rose.
I woke with it already in my veins.
But my love is not my own; they stole my reigns.
After taking what was left of my voice.
It isn't my choice.
Slowly the fear of myself becomes too strong.
Lost in the rhythm of this sapphic song.
I was bred from the blood of a great poetess,
A Greek Goddess who loved both Zeus and Aphrodite ferocious.
Unashamed of the lust in her hips,
Born to a world who saw no difference.
Daughter of Sappho why do you cry?
Please don't lose your life to a lie.
You can do nothing wrong in love,
Pray that Aphrodite is generous from above.
May she show you that true love transcends gender.
Dare Cupid to prove the existence of such splendor.
May the Goddess in your bones,
Find refuge on the beaches of ******
The people who disagree fear your unknown,
They cannot comprehend the grandiose.
When they demonize you,
Remind them Lucifer was once angel too.
Be too large in love for them,
Do not succumb to their strange,
Better yet prove that you will not be condemned.
Be the catalyst of change.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 8:45 PM UTC
It's 10 pm and the heat just hit me
The AC is off but I couldn't be more happy
Touched my first palm tree and dipped my hand in the toilet
Grabbed a cab to the city, on the seat there was a death threat
For breakfast we had Bananas foster, po'boys and hash brown
When Amanda power walked I had to tell her to slow down
By the Mississipi river I drank a peach daquiri
The waitress wanted more tips and across the streets she chased me
Strippers gave me the finger, ****** begged for ******
We were stuck in traffic cause of the constant flash floods
In a Camaro and a Werewolf to creep with vampires and slaves
Talking about plantations by the old family graves
And you were so beautiful under that big oak tree
Even more in the rain outside that locked cemetery
On Bourbon street the homeboys were asking for hugs
And I gave away all my coins to some thugs
We ate jambalaya and fried green tomatoes
The ladies were halfnaked but no one called them hoes
In a blacksmith shop with no electricity
We drank Morgan and got wasted with some other swedes
Wherever we went we felt the smell of ****
From every balcony people were throwing beads
All the ***** sounds were drowned out by the air condition
On the floor Hoyt from True Blood was changing positions
Then Chris slept like a baby when the cockroach sang him lullabies
For some reason it made more sense than "bridge may ice"
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 1:27 AM UTC
It's 10 pm and the heat just hit me
The AC is off but I couldn't be more happy
Touched my first palm tree and dipped my hand in the toilet
Grabbed a cab to the city, on the seat there was a death threat
For breakfast we had Bananas foster, po'boys and hash brown
When Amanda power walked I had to tell her to slow down
By the Mississipi river I drank a peach daquiri
The waitress wanted more tips and across the streets she chased me
Strippers gave me the finger, ****** begged for ******
We were stuck in traffic cause of the constant flash floods
In a Camaro and a Werewolf to creep with vampires and slaves
Talking about plantations by the old family graves
And you were so beautiful under that big oak tree
Even more in the rain outside that locked cemetery
On Bourbon street the homeboys were asking for hugs
And I gave away all my coins to some thugs
We ate jambalaya and fried green tomatoes
The ladies were halfnaked but no one called them hoes
In a blacksmith shop with no electricity
We drank Morgan and got wasted with some other swedes
Wherever we went we felt the smell of ****
From every balcony people were throwing beads
All the ***** sounds were drowned out by the air condition
On the floor Hoyt from True Blood was changing positions
Then Chris slept like a baby when the cockroach sang him lullabies
For some reason it made more sense than "bridge may ice"
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 8:15 AM UTC
You who stirred the words into my soul,
Brought them to life, animated them
With allegory and wit.
As if the Nine Muses had sung to my ear,
And Calliope herself had donned me
With the poems she'd once writ.
Or Sappho of ****** among secretive violets,
Absorbed by the lyre, she pens to revive it;
Not the song, or the tune,
But the calm way the song moved
The violets across the field-
This inspiration, she could wield.
Don't you see now, how it's not poetry the poet will choose?
For every poem the poet pens one shall require an equal Muse.
Dec 27, 2020
Dec 27, 2020 at 1:57 PM UTC
The twilight’s inner flame grows blue and deep,
And in my ****** over leagues of sea,
The temples glimmer moonwise in the trees.
Twilight has veiled the little flower face
Here on my heart, but still the night is kind
And leaves her warm sweet weight against my breast.
Am I that Sappho who would run at dusk
Along the surges creeping up the shore
When tides came in to ease the hungry beach,
And running, running, till the night was black,
Would fall forespent upon the chilly sand
And quiver with the winds from off the sea?
Ah, quietly the shingle waits the tides
Whose waves are stinging kisses, but to me
Love brought no peace, nor darkness any rest.
I crept and touched the foam with fevered hands
And cried to Love, from whom the sea is sweet,
From whom the sea is bitterer than death.
Ah, Aphrodite, if I sing no more
To thee, God’s daughter, powerful as God,
It is that thou hast made my life too sweet
To hold the added sweetness of a song.
There is a quiet at the heart of love,
And I have pierced the pain and come to peace.
I hold my peace, my Cleïs, on my heart;
And softer than a little wild bird’s wing
Are kisses that she pours upon my mouth.
Ah, never any more when spring like fire
Will flicker in the newly opened leaves,
Shall I steal forth to seek for solitude
Beyond the lure of light Alcæus’ lyre,
Beyond the sob that stilled Erinna’s voice.
Ah, never with a throat that aches with song,
Beneath the white uncaring sky of spring,
Shall I go forth to hide awhile from Love
The quiver and the crying of my heart.
Still I remember how I strove to flee
The love-note of the birds, and bowed my head
To hurry faster, but upon the ground
I saw two wingèd shadows side by side,
And all the world’s spring passion stifled me.
Ah, Love, there is no fleeing from thy might,
No lonely place where thou hast never trod,
No desert thou hast left uncarpeted
With flowers that spring beneath thy perfect feet.
In many guises didst thou come to me;
I saw thee by the maidens while they danced,
Phaon allured me with a look of thine,
In Anactoria I knew thy grace,
I looked at Cercolas and saw thine eyes;
But never wholly, soul and body mine,
Didst thou bid any love me as I loved.
Now I have found the peace that fled from me;
Close, close, against my heart I hold my world.
Ah, Love that made my life a lyric cry,
Ah, Love that tuned my lips to lyres of thine,
I taught the world thy music, now alone
I sing for one who falls asleep to hear.
1.6k
“As old as man,
Way back before the past…”
Said by the historian in the perpetual cemetery,
His book and ours open on the same blank page
“What is to become of us,
we are just memories of sound in a silent room”
The image of man
Tearing down his own tower of babel
with an “Eloi!, Eloi!” to himself
Grasping at the light
Without thought of the fire
All felony and no fingerprint
forever
And I watch
And I watch
And after my illness, I walk alone
And notice the words of children
collecting sun in a bucket
To 80 years from Spanish misery
To Syrian sand and tears
Mixing with the shores of ****** and Liverpool, London and Lemuria
Nothing gathered
Nothing gained
We slip further into the walls of parliament
Slip into the walls of web, corridors of code
And hear of occultist cataclysm
and those so intelligent all before them is dismissed
(“eloi, eloi, I am eloi!”)
In cold grey-green bathrooms
of flatblocks or apartment buildings
licking seasalt and gunpowder
from the fingers of our Atlantic cousins
In human skin suits
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 7:21 AM UTC
*i'll be bevis, but mind your **** to be butt-head.*
as i say to most girls:
depressed in the teens
eager thailand
for a quckie after...
girl your libido is morbid
enough to sprech greek ******
of the noose:
and i'm hanging, sure i am...
hanging limp...
there's you with a better biology
statistic living into widowhood;
i'll **** you rolling in the grave
like mozart with one of his symphonies
turned into advert / muzak for
a fridge door opening and counting
your calorie intake... or an elevator going
up without aerosmith.
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 4:49 PM UTC
Pro-Yia-yia,
I remember when you were
Still alive
And asked to see
My eyes.
I was a ways from ten,
You were near one hundred.
You were sitting
On that plush armchair
With your
Silver waves of hair
Knotted nose
Wire glasses
The waves of ****** and the Aegean still residing
In your voice.
Your eyes…
I forget
Although they mirror mine.
You just wanted to see me
After being gone
So long.
And I refused to comply
And denied you to look into my eyes
And ran into another room.
I apologize, Pro-Yia-yia,
It wasn't in anger or defiance
But fear.
I'm sorry I didn't look into
Your eyes
And showed you mine.
I didn't want to look at what would
Become my reality.
Your image-- a reflection of mine
In due time.
That your image would become a reflection of
Mine
And what comes after.
I let the fears of the end of
My life
Turn my memory of you
Into one of regret.
Years have passed
And you have gone but,
It still runs through my mind.
How could I refuse to look into your
Weathered brown eyes
Because I fear my
Inevitable demise.
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 8:53 PM UTC
*I refuse to be called a cysgender guy
The QSA should really stop being so gay, they should hide*
We should have a straight alliance
Yes! Have a straight alliance
have a safe place for all of the kids kicked out of their homes because mom, dad I’m straight
Have a place where the memories of the children who were killed because they acted too straight
Because we really need to stop saying That’s so straight
Have a straight alliance for the same reasons we should have a white club
I mean seriously even the asians get their own group!
Have a club for all of the c-y-s-g-e-n-d-e-r people
But make sure you don’t include the c-i-s-g-e-n-d-e-r people
Because we really need to stop labeling normal dudes
You know the ones who have ***** Not some confused ****** who got too dyked up
Because we really need people to stop saying that cysgender people will eventually grow out of it
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
Dark children reaching up to touch my neck,
A bead of sweat rolls down my fleshy cheek
In I they see a moment, torn from wreck.
a shudder, search for sounds apart from speech.
My children, what is it you leave behind,
To find this woman, knife has never known?
A kiss of strife, my life to yours it binds,
As I reach out to you, my flesh, my bone.
The raft that gave you birth will stay with me.
Your wrinkled, hallow gaze will keep my mind.
When you were carried by the neutral sea
for me to wrap you in these clothes of mine.
“How God, can You be there? You are not there.”
Think not for now; for now You’re in my care.
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 1:57 PM UTC
Girls Names
Hope stands eternal.
Faith is still lost.
Charity helps the needy.
El Liberte counts the cost.
Sophia my darling, you are simply charming;
Whilst Vivienne Westwood, is rather alarming.
Ruby Tuesday; Have you met Wednesday?
Fanny-Anne’s Mary Jane is of the highest quality.
Victoria Skinny; isn’t she a funny yummy mummy.
Posh? Oh gosh! No she’s not. She’s just interested in money.
Rosie! Oh **** you! This was brand new!
Now I’ll have to go and get changed thanks to Little Blue.
Pixie, Poppy, Penny and Missy,
Every single one of them a Jane Doe – Missing.
Serial Killer Cathy waits…
For Rachel and her friends, to bring Uma to their graves.
Charlotte is a harlot;
Emmanuelle has blown a pilot.
Suki ***** while Pamela just likes to ****
Demi is more than beautiful.
Holly is the curse of Christmas.
Go be jolly good Sally-Anne; get drunk and do a striptease.
Betty drives a Ford; insured of course.
While Jade is being a pain in the ******* ****
Veronica of ****** and Marilyn are snorting coke.
Senorita Angelina knows how to satisfy a bloke.
Dannii, Kylie; Kylie, Dannii.
Whichever way you say it; it still equals ****
Britney hit me, Christina slapped me
And I’m not telling you what Jennifer Low did.
Amy’s a drunk, she loves to whine.
Courtney’s a punk, like Skin Anansie.
To all the Girls who like to get high…
This is your final line… It’s simply Divine.
(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 1:57 PM UTC
[explicit; or whatever]
I found her there,
in between the red maple trees,
her hand gently disturbing
the water and the frogs
in the darkness of the pound.
I saw her there,
a sun beam in her hair,
the chill awakening her *******
her hands concealing her ******
her eyes watering me, arose.
I left her there,
upon a bed of red leaves,
her thighs embracing her warmness,
her breath softly paced down,
her taste in my tongue, watered still.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
Lyrical Poet of Greece
flowing like gentle breeze
Born in island of ******
like dawning sun she beautifully rose
As the time flew
desecrating winds blew
leaving mere fragments of work
one complete but mere sixteen lines
So little is known for certain
Yet it does not discourage me to pen
Let this poem be a spark
let your curiosity leave a mark
She crafted words into a mystic Shape
once read there is no escape
She wrote of fragile personal moments
of her daughter and her female friends .
Even Plato acknowledged her beautiful lines
He even said these following lines
"Some say the Muses are nine: how careless!
Look, there's Sappho too, from ****** the tenth"
Solon an Athenian ruler heard her song
and wanted it to be taught along
when curious faces asked Him why
he replied "Because I want to learn it and die".
Her Face was was minted in coins
Portrait painted on vases
Syracuse honored her exile
by erecting a statue
showing words could transcend
her gender in the people's eyes .
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC
O Sappho, prophet of the page
To whom the Greeks devote their age
Humbly true in gentle words
Full of spirit, passion stirred
Poetess, in mind embeds
A fulsome flame of luscious red
On glistening isle, on Lesbos' shores
Sappho ruminates, adores
Rendering the usual world
In to magic truth unfurled
Written cross the sky in stars
Sung in time to ancient lyres
Her descant rings in metaphors
The earliest of troubadors
Enamoured of the wise, sublime
Conveyed in verse that transcends time
A most dutiful and diligent scribe
Gifting us, the reading tribe
Her vision ascends to immortal throne
Throughout time it sparkled, shone
Inspiring the future sages
To lust for verse and give up wages
To be a poet, that's her bliss
To see the sunshine as a kiss
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 9:09 AM UTC
stanley hook llegó a Melody Spring un jueves de noche con un sapo en la mano
"oh sapo" le decía "sapito mío íntimo mortal y moral y coral
no preocupado por esta finitud
no sacudido por triste condición furiosa" le decía
"oh caballito cantor de la humedad o pedazo esmeralda"
le decía stanley hook al sapo que llevaba en la mano
y todos comprendieron que él amaba al sapo que llevaba en la mano
más allá de accidentes geográficos sociológicos demográficos climáticos
más allá de cualquiera condición
"oye mío" le decía "hay muerte y vida día y noche sombra y luz"
decía stanley hook "y sin embargo te amo sapo
como amaba a las rosas tempranas esa mujer de ******
pero más y tu olor es más bello porque te puedo oler"
decía stanley hook y se tocaba la garganta
como raspándose el crepúsculo que entraba y avanzaba y le ponía el pecho gris
gris la memoria feo el corazón
"oye sapo" decía mostrándole el suelo
"los parientes de abajo también están divididos ni siquiera se hablan"
decía stanley hook "qué bárbara tristeza" decía ante el asombro popular
los brillos del silencio popular
que se ponía como un sol
esa noche naturalmente stanley hook se murió
antes les dio terribles puñetazos a las paredes de su cuarto en representación de sí mismo
mientras el sapo sólo el sapo todo el sapo
seguía con el jueves
todo esto es verdad:
hay quien vive como si fuera inmortal
otros se cuidan como si valieran la pena
y el sapo de stanley hook se quedó solo
584
They said, "We come from ****** where the love
"is more exquisite than men can dream of,
"much less provide. The hard Augustan rules
"are masculine, and made for breeding fools.
"Your patriarchal moral cannot sever
"our intimacy---that will last forever!
"We have the right to choose our destiny,
"without permission of society.
"You call the past His-story; but a page
"has been turned. We come out with a new age.
"New drama will appear upon the stage
"of life's existence---with new cast and scene,
"its poetry composed in Mytilene."
So spoke they both . . . intensely . . . from the heart.
Not too long, after that, they broke apart:
the one given to raging jealousy;
the other?---children, domesticity.
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
Oftentimes
out of ****** dreams
when night glides into dawn,
I awake hungry for your poetry:
I salivate on your words
savouring each syllable
melting on my tongue .
Oftentimes
when I crave virginal lyrics
I read anew your tropes:
I revel in their creativity
letting all they reveal
inspire me completely.
Oftentimes
I imagine your noble heart
I feel it pulsate upon each page:
in unison with each beat,
I am borne away in the flow
of poetry, beauty, time and love.
TOBIAS
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 6:25 AM UTC
Ami, j'ai quitté vos fêtes.
Mon esprit, à demi-voix,
Hors de tout ce que vous faites,
Est appelé par les bois.
J'irai, **** des murs de marbre,
Tant que je pourrai marcher,
Fraterniser avec l'arbre,
La fauvette et le rocher.
Je fuirai **** de la ville
Tant que Dieu clément et doux
Voudra me mettre un peu d'huile
Entre les os des genoux.
Ne va pas croire du reste
Que, bucolique et hautain,
J'exige, pour être agreste,
Le vieux champ grec ou latin ;
Ne crois pas que ma pensée,
Vierge au soupir étouffé,
Ne sachant où prendre Alcée,
Se rabatte sur d'Urfé ;
Ne crois pas que je demande
L'Hémus où Virgile erra.
Dans de la terre normande
Mon églogue poussera.
Pour mon vers, que l'air secoue,
Les pommiers sont suffisants ;
Et mes bergers, je l'avoue,
Ami, sont des paysans.
Mon idylle est ainsi faite ;
Franche, elle n'a pas besoin
D'avoir dans miel l'Hymète
Et l'Arcadie en son foin.
Elle chante, et se contente,
Sur l'herbe où je viens m'asseoir,
De l'haleine haletante
Du boeuf qui rentre le soir.
Elle n'est point misérable
Et ne pense pas déchoir
Parce qu'Alain, sous l'érable,
Ôte à Toinon son mouchoir.
Elle honore Théocrite ;
Mais ne se fâche pas trop
Que la fleur soit Marguerite
Et que l'oiseau soit Pierrot.
J'aime les murs pleins de fentes
D'où sortent les liserons,
Et les mouches triomphantes
Qui soufflent dans leurs clairons.
J'aime l'église et ses tombes,
L'invalide et son bâton ;
J'aime, autant que les colombes
Qui jadis venaient, dit-on,
Conter leurs métempsycoses
À Terpandre dans ******
Les petites filles roses
Sortant du prêche en sabots.
J'aime autant Sedaine et Jeanne
Qu'Orphée et Pratérynnis.
Le blé pousse, l'oiseau plane,
Et les cieux sont infinis.
408
I'm going to tell you an story:
At first
There was only
Fractals
And mysterious forces
That they wove them
On the delicate canvas
From the void.
Galactic Star Beings
Whose fingers and limbs
They danced in a swing
Dictated by the music of heaven
And there, in the middle of the fire of creation
Cosmic little seed, sigh
Hidden in the subsequent emulsion
From the juices of god
Spilling over
Free humanity
That barely light
Runs
Perpetual
Between the shelves of time
Drawing footsteps of all sizes
In all hemispheres,
distributed
Through latitudes, sown at the tip of Oz and the sword
Of a complex zoology
That of the human animal
Fire thief
Polyphonic heron of storms
Seabird that augurs stars
Because we are built
With feathers
That threw the phoenix and the albatross
On the holy land.
And bloom right in the middle
At the beginning of the war
When everything succumbs
And the ruin falls to pieces.
Little rainbow seed, your serpent tongue
Invoke the circular prayer of your abdomen
A sacred energy
Possessed in the word
You undress
Oracle of ******
Emitting a little moan
Barely cat
And overshadowed the man in his misery
Contemplate gods that understand nothing
Rejoice in tumultuous ecstasy
Of his exacerbated human games
Oh for the being of creation
The whole cosmos!
Sanctus and lux aeternam, in paradisum
No requiem bears your name, no bullet
Plus all my poems
No grave my epitaph
And i have died
More than a thousand times
Shake is to infinite prison of bones
The sacred words of the alseid
And the naiad of moisture
How jubilant
He gave his most beautiful flower to Priapus
And you who did not want to lose yourself
In the labyrinth of the Minotaur
When you offer
Your blood on lotus leaves
Worshiping Polyphemus, the lotus eaters
And to the cyclops in the same way
And me sitting in the middle of the odyssey
With headphones on
And the lost look
Thinking
When will the war happen?
When will the war happen?
When will the war happen?
R.
Jun 1, 2021
Jun 1, 2021 at 3:02 PM UTC