"luminaries" poems
***The horizon was pure Magic:
Pink blue white softness ~ Light born
At the sunset ~ full Moon in bloom. . .
Saw you on wheels ~ son!***
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 10:59 AM UTC
We all see the same luminaries
That brighten our world
We all see them different
And that in itself
Enlightens our world
Sep 12, 2023
Sep 12, 2023 at 11:53 AM UTC
There is three, a trio of sorts
That gives me what I need
For each of the ways I bleed
Sometimes it's my soul
My beating heart
My plagued mind
They all love my sculpted body
But none can I keep
They are all forbidden to me
Belonging to some
Or belonging to none
Too old
Or too young
I will forever be alone in my being
I am merely a fascade
Only to look at with craving eyes
And sensual thoughts
Sultry words spoken
What became of her?
With her raven hair
And marble flesh
Dark woven gown
She glides amongst the luminaries
Seeing who is free
To be with her
Until time to sleep
Who is she?
She is me
Aphrodite
Jul 2, 2025
Jul 2, 2025 at 12:50 AM UTC
***Our souls are enfettered
By an Inexorable Penance,
Sorrows & Lamentations:***
In pining for
The Light of Transmutation
The Adamantine Wings
Of Stalwart Bahamut
Unburdened our etherealized hearts.
(Speaking for the future)
Spira has lost its
Yoke of Communion
To this Cimmerian Millennium.
Redemption’s Revelation:
Aeonic sin hath reigned
Under the Cathedral of Deception
Forged by the taught tongues
**Of Yevon;
Despotic Lunae
Eclipsed the light
Of a forlorn sky,
Divine Pantheon
For
Numen of Sol.**
Cast a
Stygian Shadow of Sanctimonious Suffering for Souls.
Seems eternal; truly, ephemeral.
**For,
the Hearts of nations
Are
Sacrosanct Luminaries.**
Our tears
Have been shed,
Our vanities
Indemnified.
**Skies shall bleed Empyrean Bliss
And
The Opus of Life
Shall cleanse
This wearied Spira of Pernicious Sin.**
(Amen.)***
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 5:47 AM UTC
Postpartum epiphanies
I'm shuddering against a stonewall
taking into myself the smoke,
snowy hills and the quiet of the
pine trees
I feel awake as the noise in my
head starts to dissipate
I go under water between thoughts
and comeback up for air once a
conscious realization dawns as
sentences
blooming in my third eye
The solitude in these mountains is
medicine for me like lighting sage
it mends the holes I possess in
my aorta
This large Earth is turning soft
I can't trace it in the swift grey clouds
or the suns hide and seek game
I'm tongue-tied on the ecliptic orbits
I trip over the luminaries movement
The trees whisper faint
stories but i am
ear-less to their memories
I wish I could close my eyes and
fall asleep to their song-tales
like a child at bedtime
I'm faceless to this circumstance
I feel like shattered glass
The future seems at once
both short-sighted and vast
I'm getting through on faith
believing my time is precious
and too rare to spend it in a cage
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 1:37 AM UTC
~
*Step into the moment
with bated breath,
There will come
the beguilement
and whispered shadows at play,
they seem to congeal around
conflagration of wills
and spirits considered outré.
And if it should rain
within these walls,
we'll advance south and sneak
under cover.
Fingers will find,
lips will linger and remind.
It will be a slow
recovery this time.
The places we travel go beyond
the arms reach,
they war for supremacy,
they alter and spasm,
they're random, but hover
between us in unity.
This dance we make
is an intimate ballet,
this push and pull
a blissful menagerie,
a wrinkle in time
we call ecstasy.
In kisses christened as luminaries,
appointing our own ceiling
— a mural painted in the keen
colors of craving.
The years of such sweet communion
have built this shelter, this nest,
and here together we rest.
And we are no less surrendering
to them than straddling the heavens
— the gauze of time,
timber and tranquility enmeshed,
and wishing it never ends.*
~
May 24, 2021
May 24, 2021 at 1:54 PM UTC
Tempus Fugit:
Nought is eternal,
Nox is ephemeral,
And
The Charred Canvas
Of
The Night Sky
(Noctis Lucis Caelum,
Scala Ad Caelum)
Bedarkened & besmirched, bespeaks
A
Love-Worn Wayward, Wayworn.
In the
Citadel
Of mine
Temporal Heart
Time
Streams infinitely
As an
Exhalation of The Ethereal One.
The Chronology of
The Arbiter of Fates
Shalt Destine,
Herald Eternitas
Upon
The Phantasmagoric Horizon
Of
Mine Mind's Sky
Wondering
Upon
Days of Yore.
(The Hither,
The Thither,
And
The Morrow.)
These
Luminescent Children are
Are born
To wax Luminaries
Then,
Wax Nebulous
For all eternity.
O, Metempsychosis;
Born of
Edicts Unseen,
Of that
Which was,
Is,
&
Will Be.
(For
All things
Are
Circular & Cycling,
Existentially.)
We were conceived
Infinitely
To
Infinity
And beyond.
Let He, Let She
Whose
Ears & Eyes
Of
The Unuttered Anima
Be unstopped, unfurled
To resonations:
Deep within.
The Emerald Lifestream Anew
Dost begin.
The Sovereign of Songbirds sings
Esprit d' amour
To those who wait.
(Se' Lah.)
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 5:21 PM UTC
Sin glows
With sparkling richness
Of all luminaries
of blanketing galaxy
Sin is worshiped and enshrined
Righteousness is
but blase fallacy
With all over-flowing
Affluence
of new pentecostal churches
and their greedy pastors
And easy-come riches
of Chiadzwa diamond fields
with her flippant Gwejas and Gwejerinas
Life is but black
like Soddom's ****
I hear the knell of dawning doom
As Angels of doom boom...
I swear by ****** Mary's blessed ****
I saw a Stephen preaching down Rekai Tangwena Ave
And was run down by a speeding motor car
"O poor chap, was a good fellow," muttered God
I saw drunken Thomas roaming the streets
Of cogitation convincing himself
it was true news
That brother Jesus, pot-bellied in Armani suit
Was back riding a top of the range Lamborghini
And God shrugged his shoulders,kept quiet
Afraid it may be fatally true
I saw God wet his pants
When listening to Elliot The Idiot's "Songs of Sobs"
That applaud Simon and Peter fishing
From people's pockets
Songs that revere and adorn the vigilant
Pillar of Salt
Scorn and mock
the meekness and softness of heart
At Golgotha...
Sin is vermin spreading
In this our home,the infierno grande
-dougwa-
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 8:10 AM UTC
I once wished
that we first met as friends, rather than
lovers,
that I knew your tongue
rolling against your teeth to
speak something honest before I felt it curling
around my skin.
Ever since,
I have tried to stay separate – I wanted
to paint portraits of the
earth, of luminaries and geodes,
but every picture looks like my body after ***
with you,
little crystals of you
cornering the emptiest parts of me.
I part as a flower blooms,
two years
and I realize I must believe in falling stars
now.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
faked botulism
and Beulah reds
Abyssinian horses
purportedly dead
all night blindness
that 'gravel' soothes
hovering indentions
southwestern barceuse
luminaries marked
tiny infantries swell
conically formed
so steady with shell
dihedral burns
for unlucky hands
swaying cognition
oh, little demands
sanctums ******
the sputum reigns
tenderness denied
a proper grave
you were ferried
holstered soul
lift your head
and let it go
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 5:20 AM UTC
An airgonaut, verily she is,
Hovering in time, healing
Mine mind; O'er the
luminaries, stationary,
Freely emissaries, of
The water of life on-
Which we liveth.
We shalt famigerate the copybook of god;
Sprinkling seed's, O'er the demonic breed's,
Stomping out the hatred, anger, a lightning bolt of peace to overcometh the ghost's of bad nature, with Jane's sceptering rod. Virtuous applause, as a wraparound stairway, leadeth us to the Almighty; thundering awe.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 7:09 PM UTC
My heart skips like a rock across the river filled in my sorrows
I'm down today, but there's hope for tomorrow
This hope lets me cope like its dope and I'm a fiend
Each ripple of a wave shows me the way
Taking me, making my mental depression raise
And in the breeze that kisses my tear streaked face
I find a glimmer of a smile the dawning of a new day
A day that dissolves anguish and brings an abundance of happiness
Like hot chocolate deep in winters mist
I find that I'm deep within these myths
Buried in lies beyond lies, I've tried and I've tried
Floundering time after time
Sinking deep until the bottom was my place to hide
Struggling for air, lungs unable to rise
Weight of burdened waters and tides
Until in the darkness I chose to swim and rise
The time is now determination fills my eyes
Thru pain comes happiness I have come to realize
Press to the top this Ian my life and my sunrise
I am the drive train in the machine that motivates me
The I in the team that solely consist of me
Like a beam of light it strikes me
Profusely enlightens me ,
Adjust my contrast and brightens me
No longer will I huddle in the dark acquiescly
Eloquence bubbles up inside of me
Hope serenades from within
As an illuminating light in my eyes begins
I can see now the fantastical future depends
On where I lay my burdens and my sins
I chose to be free, live my life, plant seeds
And allow destiny to drive and fulfill my needs
As I cry out the pain Heaven has heard my pleads
The anguish washed away, my soul no longer bleeds
My Utopia awaits, this cages bird is freed
Its times flee and gambol
No longer gambling on the shadows
Luminaries of the sky let me spread my wings and fly
Nature lifts me high, the birds chirp hi, as they gracefully fly by
I can't fathom the fugacious elegance so prevalent
With great relevance to my contentment with life
No longer with I struggle or strife
I'll dehydrate my eyes no longer will I cry
Time is ineffable so I'll pay no mind,
To the hands that control the lie
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 4:29 PM UTC
Restless eyes,
The luminaries winking,
The night, as if were
The Moon's stage of solitude
Shines vast in the nocturnal glory,
Revealing silken flattery,
The gentle light caresses.
There is a connection
Of the luminal glow
To the eyes whose mind is
Trapped in a cavernous shadow
While fathoming uselessly
Unto the revolving clockwork
Of living,
Like a trance between
An unknown familiarity.
Thoughts carve out timelines
In jigsaw's grip,
The Moon is a portal
In deafening silence,
Faceless memories guided
By forgotten constellations and
One realises the depth of life
And the race of time,
And come sweet soul searching
In the needs of the spirit while
Trembling from regret.
The solitude is an ocean
Keeping one afloat in a
Suspended profile,
Crystalline clarity like a mirror
In polyhedrons,
So much reflection in restlessness.
And we can drown
In this ocean bathed in the Moon,
Like reliving or redoing
All the past making it so
Pure only our souls know
The life lived in another version.
When the thoughts calm
Into the the minds realignment,
The light becomes forgotten
And the nocturnally calm of the spirit
Flies to live another life;
All that remains is the solitude.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 11:32 AM UTC
Continually blessed is her name
Creation, bright lights, and planted seeds
Illumination
Her fingers are some kind of sun
The Redeemer slays
Pray for those to be saved
No man shall be redeemed
In fevers heated dream
Forever burning in a heart
Fire, tindle, ash and cinder
Luminaries
Her sleep never leads me to dream
The redeemer slays
Away and any way my blood
Its a name because of her
Because of her it falls
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 6:10 AM UTC
~
*man on the moon,
woman in orbit,
unrequited science.
nowhere to land,
nothing to feel,
it might as well be Siberia.
luminaries change,
control lingers in the framework.
the heavens revolve
—deasil and artificial.
she has revolutions of her own,
legs that once swam
everyday in his backyard pool,
(that once draped around his coil)
now openly kick free
from his lunar confines.
he starts the countdown
—one one thousand,
two one thousand,
but she's not coming for him.
she's chasing other transmissions,
the bones of what she believes,
hoping something out there
can activate her heart.*
~
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 9:46 AM UTC
Like a Hemmingway
I wish to shoot myself in the head
In the hopes that what comes out
Will fall on the page in just the right way
That she is left in awe
Of my scattered (splattered) thoughts
As though I were Van Gogh
I slash and sever my body
And offer it up to passersby
Who only offer indifferent glances
While I slowly bleed to death
Atop another blank canvas
And just like the great wordslingers
Luminaries who build empires from pen strokes
I will take the stage with my magnum opus
Only to crumble to dust in the light
Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 8:41 PM UTC
Glow bugs chew up home . . .
**** branches climbing to sun,
. . . Bark at base of tree.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 8:43 PM UTC
{ Do those moments of, sort of returning
An unwanted favor
( To some pre-labelled "Victim" )
Silence the rage and
Undigested trauma
In sharp slurs and bitten beatings? }
Soft-spoken and fragile ramblings and
Strumming of chords
Under moonlight.
Torn visionaries speaking in
Luminaries;
Twilight tea bags and broken sandals.
Starting off...
Beginning nervous,
Mistaken by another's train of thought, but
Ever blissful and convinced;
Knowing all the time.
Searching for a moment...
THE moment!
A sudden explosion!
Dazed on faith, maybe, or drunk on inspiration!
Things that may be someday, but either way-
True courage, this thing,
This magic called faith!
Just humble spirits,
Full-bellied spirits
With restless limbs and
Fluorescent wings, invisible.
Rustic sincerity and understanding;
Glasses over swollen azule eyes...
Distillation of hymns
And smoke;
Coffee stained and
Delusional in a pill popping coma!
Whisked away by b-flat, and ones lust for harmonies.
Shooting
Bows and arrows
Aimed at the farthest lushest niche
In the sky;
Opening and closing like a door.
Always becoming!
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
A crushed Shah Jahan said:
When you behold the memorial,
a sight so masterly, yet sorrowful;
you will inevitably admit
an aching little bisecting wish
that adorns your yearning lips....
parched,
barren,
effete......
And from the world's lid,
the luminaries too
would sob and drip.
#
He could well have been talking
about my beloved's words ;
......so utterly breathtaking
that a sigh poignantly quivers
in my dithering being.
Her words meander.
It is no wonder:
for all of us saunter
in thought and speech
one time or the other.
At times her words are poised and easy.....,
wonderfully jolly, sensationally starry:
They shimmer like the four minarets (1)
on the full moon night;
....brilliant......resplendent.
Then they taper from the dome
and stop halfway between the tomb
and the solemn reflecting pool:
They are calmer, sober,
and you know,
a little factual;
...what they call discriminating
intellectual, rational......
Soon the words leave charbagh (2)
and hit the red sandstone walls (3)
crenellated with flawless wisdom;
spotlessly beautiful
like the lifeless marble
that proudly commemorates
Mr. Shah Jahan's love
in grim, cold blooded grace.
We talk about
riders and scruples,
kith and kin,
restraints and constraints,
fidelity and modesty.......
....and I can not help
but to sadly agree
to the placid logic
in our impeccable scripts.
#
Logic is a wonderful remedy
for the radical and foolhardy
but for every cure,
there is a spin-off.
Deep somewhere,
a delicate,
two-cent sentiment
collapses into atrophy
and.......silently
another part of me
becomes a
meek monument
of disposable history.
----------
(1) The four minarets of the Taj Mahal
(2) The garden that starts from the end of the main gateway and ends near the squared base of the mausoleum is an integral part of the Taj Mahal structure.
(3) The building material used is brick-in-lime mortar veneered with red sandstone and marble and inlay work of precious/semi precious stones. The mosque and the guest house in the Taj Mahal complex are built of red sandstone in contrast to the marble tomb in the center.
Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 10:27 PM UTC
The sky muted silver in color,
And I am still running,
Looking up from the earth's dolor.
The luminaries of the heavens
Glowing bright in appearance.
Breathless, devoted,
Twinkling at me as I think of her,
As time-worn relics shine;
Burst thru patina tints.
Smooth, burnished,
Brought to a luster again
After many years neglected in Time.
The corridors where my ancestors
Ran and run. This affected peace to me,
And I am one with them,
From this day on, I am one.
Take me thru the years,
The key to open doors,
To another day, another way,
With hopes in tow; and I realize this day, as I think of them…
I know I am never
As alone as I think I am.
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 10:18 PM UTC
*The Moonlit Aethers bleed Titanium Rays
As mine Forlorn Eyes
Saunter thine Porcelain Skin:
Platinum Matriarch upon Swarthy Expanse reigns
Azure Luminaries cascade
Upon The Forested Glades of my Airy Soulwaves.
Ensorcelled is that Sylvan Shrine,
The Reliquary of the Starry Wish.
(O, that
Loveless Blight
might cease)
I Besought the Firmaments
From Dusk to Dawn
Lamenting in Dirge
Of the
Revenant Skies;
Eons transcended yet no hand to hold
The Benediction of Romance
An Ephemeral Throne.
The Pandemonium corporealizes
Wraiths in my mind;
(Perdition is Thew
The
Poltergeist's Might)
Ivory Visage of the Impearled
Hallows my Spirit
Quells the Abyss.
The Thew of Deities
Purged from my veins
Quaking my quintessence,
I fathomed
I was naught.
A mere figment,
An existential vagary:
~BUT NOW I SEE
We are
All
But a
Dream
Clinging yearningly
to the
Promise of Hope
(The Covenant of Ensouled Dust)
Groping for Eternity, Memory, and the Lightwaves
To be
Vested in our pulse;
For Corporeality;
Ascendency
To the Chrysalis of The Astral,
The Cradle of Cosmogenesis:
Our Cosmos,
Our Zephyr,
Our Magma,
Our Torrent,
Our Tremor,
Our Thunderclap,
Our Time,
Our Space,
Our Nexus to Efflorescence,
Our Incorporeal Sublimity~
I shall surrender to
Providence of the Supernal
His Empyrean Wings
(An Impregnable Aegis)
A Strewn Vestige once was I
But the Somnolent Beloved was roused
Whence I glimpsed into thine eyes.
The Vagrant Loveless is resurrected
Reawakened as a Doughty Knight
Warring against sequestration
(Until by Nirvana)
Abeyance devours this blight.
~Dream
You starry-eyed wayfarers,
Surrender sovereignty to credence
When Star-crossed
Conspire against the Fates
For when Elysium
Is your Beloved
The Ancient of Yore
Shall lead you nebulous streams
To the Holy Oracle
Prophesying the fulfillment
Of your Intemerate Hope
(For Love, myriads doven the skies)
Please Believe,
Just,
Believe in me.~*
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 3:02 PM UTC
I’m an Anti-Social Socialite,
rocking new New Balances,
most of these Kids aren’t rockin’ right,
they’ve got too much ego & too few talents with,
attitudes that need adjusting,
in other words they’re not talented,
when I appear Haters disappear,
call that a Lover’s Magic Trick,
written 10 books,
and still don’t know what an adjective is,
it’s like we’re Illiterate Literary Luminaries,
walking paradoxes in a par of Croc kicks,
kinda like an Anti-Social Socialite,
or a wise man that’s lost it,
even though we both know we’re never lost,
because we’re always here and always on topic,
and you’re never late either,
because the time is always now,
and I do all these things,
even though I don’t know how,
wow,
I’m an Anti-Social Socialite,
rocking new New Balances,
most of these Kids aren’t rockin’ right,
they’ve got too much ego & too few talents with,
attitudes that need adjusting,
in other words they’re not talented,
when I appear Haters disappear,
call that a Lover’s Magic Trick…
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
new book available worldwide: 8/8/18
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 8:42 PM UTC
Her megacosm luminaries
Streaketh the Spanish fairy
A kismet of no forget's
All clean
Sanitary
No caution here
Take off thy wordly shoes
Cashin's shalt not be rationed
Jazz and rock and roll blues
Instant sanity
Ground to kava beans
Queens and kings
Hopes and dreams
Splendered
******* Dusk's
To smell her musk
To break her unease
To dry her tears
To wipe her feet
To crown her empress
To shine her in
To get a glimpse of heaven
To forget all mine sins
To create a totality
Made of ourn own cerebration
Catoptric intellectual gifts
A boom of sonic
Mass concentration!!!!
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 11:27 AM UTC
at top of poetic tree
the exemplary talents are located
they who have a monicker
which is gold plated
to gain access into
this rarefied sanctum
one must be willing to crawl
up the fawning ******
but some aren't seeking
a place at the table with the upper truss
they are quite happy
to stay aboard the common man's bus
sniveling and groveling
at the feet of the elites
isn't a feat which enthuses
those who are seated in the lower rung seats
the luminaries
at lofty vantage point
all go on about humility
they might like to look inside themselves
at the mirror image
reflected in their seas
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC