"lingerer" poems
The sad and solemn night
Hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires;
The glorious host of light
Walk the dark hemisphere till she retires;
All through her silent watches, gliding slow,
Her constellations come, and climb the heavens, and go.
Day, too, hath many a star
To grace his gorgeous reign, as bright as they:
Through the blue fields afar,
Unseen, they follow in his flaming way:
Many a bright lingerer, as the eve grows dim,
Tells what a radiant troop arose and set with him.
And thou dost see them rise,
Star of the Pole! and thou dost see them set.
Alone, in thy cold skies,
Thou keep'st thy old unmoving station yet,
Nor join'st the dances of that glittering train,
Nor dipp'st thy ****** orb in the blue western main.
There, at morn's rosy birth,
Thou lookest meekly through the kindling air,
And eve, that round the earth
Chases the day, beholds thee watching there;
There noontide finds thee, and the hour that calls
The shapes of polar flame to scale heaven's azure walls.
Alike, beneath thine eye,
The deeds of darkness and of light are done;
High towards the star-lit sky
Towns blaze--the smoke of battle blots the sun--
The night-storm on a thousand hills is loud--
And the strong wind of day doth mingle sea and cloud.
On thy unaltering blaze
The half-wrecked mariner, his compass lost,
Fixes his steady gaze,
And steers, undoubting, to the friendly coast;
And they who stray in perilous wastes, by night,
Are glad when thou dost shine to guide their footsteps right.
And, therefore, bards of old,
Sages, and hermits of the solemn wood,
Did in thy beams behold
A beauteous type of that unchanging good,
That bright eternal beacon, by whose ray
The voyager of time should shape his heedful way.
1.5k
death lingerer
and baby,
it was eaither **** you or **** me
the old mans tale, **** or be killed
and i know which choice you'd much have prefered
baby you got lucky,
because the only one who wanted you more alive then yourself
was me, myself, i did
and so i did the deed
the do that you wanted done
and now im dead,
but baby, baby, baby, i'm not gone
dont you sigh of releif like that
dont you show false greif
the way you're looking over my dead body
i might mistake it for lust, desire, hunger
and i may be dead but the false hope still kills
baby, i'm biting back a scream you'll never hear
and you'd think that it was over
you'd think my deaths ruthless grip
would **** it all out of me
satiate the love, the lust, the desire
but it's only framed it stronger
nothing makes me want you more
i crave you more then ever
and i've been messing with the rules
i've been pushing the buttons
because every day in your life
brings you closer to me
and everyday in my death
my soul lingers with yours.
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
Comes the fiddling fiend
Comes the lascivious lingerer
Steals away, the sneak, to the bend in the creek
And lies with A lovely light
From the beckoning field
Where the battles were waged, we trade,
Furs and beads will fill their needs
And keep the moon up tonight
And illumine well the fight
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 7:28 AM UTC
Brief wind stillness means
Nothing to silence
That myth forgotten
Like our stillness in
The once sacred ground
Changed now dug up burnt
Scattered broken glass
Thrown into noisy
Everyday vast air
Unmemorable
Or bear existing
Indefinitely
Held on a mantel
Strange home lingerer
Trapped in Time's domain
Last standing reproach
Nudging its shoulder
Repeating the phrase
You're here forever
Part of furniture
Just gravestone décor
Dusts sent to remind
That you aren't leaving
Coats triumph of life in
Insignificance
Insignificant
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 9:05 AM UTC
Comes the fiddling fiend
Comes the lascivious lingerer
Steals away, the sneak, to the bend in the creek
And lies with a lovely light
From the beckoning field
Where the battles were waged, we trade
Furs and beads will fill their needs
And keep the moon up tonight
And illumine well the fight
Feb 10, 2020
Feb 10, 2020 at 5:26 AM UTC