"naturae" poems
Sweet was the ancient tale once told,
Of star-born realms and skies above,
When primal hearts, though proud and bold,
Still held the thread of love.
From rose-hued lands where dreamers grew,
No scorn arose, nor warlike word.
‘Twixt cultures old, the wise and true
A gentle peace was heard.
The sea lay calm, the waves moved slow,
While birds sang high on salted air.
The stars, the moon, and myths below
Drew hearts with gentle care.
When Orpheus, with lyre in hand,
Could charm the trees and still the shore,
He sang not just of death’s dim land,
But love that dared for more.
And songs poured out, both wide and bright,
Unbound by ticking clocks or schemes.
A joy unspoiled by neon light
Still stirs in silent dreams.
No noise, no screen, no hollow glow,
Just fireside tales and open skies
A world less fast, yet rich to know,
Where wonder met the eyes.
But now, a broken engine hums,
Where whispers clash and meanings blur.
Though minds are fed, the heart succumbs
In dreamy shadows stir.
This modern sprawl, in steel-clad guise,
Sees freedom drown and ruins swell.
While gilded dame with cunning eyes,
Buys silence, sells the shell.
Sweet childhood homes that most recall,
Still mourn the loss of treasured views.
While elders chase the siren’s call,
The Futures drown in hues.
O bitter jest, this march of mind,
That trades the soul for hastened days.
Where hearts and minds are redesigned
By profit’s clever maze.
Progress cloaked where truths are wrung
May blind the heart and charm the tongue;
But in the hush, old songs are sung
Still bold, still clear, still young.
Naturae consors esto
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 10:02 PM UTC
From the usual desires within a store
From the potato chips that don't call for you but still eat
From the shredded cheese that only seems delectable at
2:00 am
There is nothing in this world we wouldn't crave
For we are the ones who have slept through sleepless nights
For we that have been addicted to the nectar that is known as
coffee
And For we that has been blessed with
Lusus Naturae
But remember, That even if we were blessed.
The ill will wish for us
And we shall respond
as it is not our duty to do so
Instead, it is just the cravings that bond our blessings
and that we are one in the twilight
Oct 30, 2020
Oct 30, 2020 at 10:09 AM UTC
MEPHISTOPHELES. Make good use of your time! It hurries past,
But order and method make time last,
So, friend, take my advice to heart:
Hear lectures on logic for a start.
Logic will train your mind all right;
Like inquisitor's boots it will squeeze you tight,,
Your thoughts will learn to creep and crawl
And never lose their way at all,
Not get criss-crossed as now, or go
Will-o'-the-wisping to and fro!
We'll teach you that your process of thinking
Instead of being like eating and drinking,
Spontaneous, instantaneous, free,
Must proceed by one and two and three.
Our thought-machine, as I assume,
Is in fact like a master-weavers loom:
One ****** of his foot, and a thousand threads
Invisibly shift, and hither and thither
The shuttles dart - just one he treads
And a thousand strands all twine together.
In comes your philosopher and proves
It must happen by distinct logical moves:
The first is this, the second is that,
And the third and fourth then follow pat;
If you leave out one or leave out two,
Then neither three nor four can be true.
The students applaud, they all say 'just so!'-
But how to weavers they still don't know.
When scholars study a thing, they strive
To **** it first, if it's alive;
Then they have the parts and they've lost the whole,
For the link that's missing was the living soul.
Encheiresis naturae, says Chemistry now -
Moccking itself without knowing how.
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC
I am in a deep dark hole--
An asylum of my mind.
It's better to be locked in a room
Where no damage can be done,
Where everyone treats me as who they perceive me to be--
A ****** lunatic.
I know this isn't my rightful place,
I know I sound so childish and
Narcissistic
To say these things,
But if there is no escape from your pain,
What a better place to reside?
I scream and scream for hours
In this nightmarish dream,
Without the knowledge of the darkest secrets
Hiding in the mist of all this black.
All the while the prince tries to rescue me.
I guess it's unclear if I
Let myself be trapped or if
You have trapped me in my own
Sick state of existence.
I long for the prince's arms to be around me.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC
Vis medicatric naturae
The healing of the mother
She knows the best medicine
From the dirt she heals
We don’t understand her healing techniques
But vis medicatrix naturae is impossible to beat
We might not think she’s right
When she takes away our loved
But what is giveth
Is taketh away
Vix medicatric naturae
The healing of nature
Mother knows best
Let her find the cure
Dec 10, 2011
Dec 10, 2011 at 4:54 PM UTC
collapse the husk of sin with the
lucid dirt caked better and more.
all about your cascade. and bleached
serenity stiffly decaying. a grave calm
in the ******* of untold lovers. to be
cadaverous an apathetic magic.
seems it to me the sky was blue but
cracked melody of ruffled gray
hips sprawled exactly on its
electric lips to tickle precisely the accurate
giggle of rainbow fuzz. hush now delicious
day and break staggeringly on the luscious nightmare.
A lusus naturae said "why not dip the razors in your
purity to slit the rhythmic shudders
of your
vermilion music. but anon hither it doth
come and merry it will slander with the clouds?"
slither correctly it wAS in the ponds of streelight ******
begging white palpations to the weak skin.
but flustered in wickedly; in her still column
of hot ice. i loved only her.
Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 4:11 PM UTC
I am made of earth
bleached blonde by the sun
that from its heart
radiates its rays into my veins.
The pores of my luxuriant skin
are fields
full of trees
and full of every fruit.
Oceans burrow my legs
through my arms,
colourful lakes
drive crystal-clear waters
and waterfalls
barely come to surface.
My fingers are rivers of stars
that turn my hands and my feet
into skies,
evanescent comets appear
and my eyes are full of galaxies.
My hair is foam from the sea
my lips are shells dressed with pearls
and my eyelashes
are plaited with golden silver.
From my cloud nose to my moon ears
my face is a tapestry of flowers and scents
the light of the day unfurls itself upon me
all around me
the dawn and the sunset
kiss the night.
10.11.'15
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 12:53 PM UTC
Dear, I haven't told you
the many times I've wished
to capture the stars above
to have something in my hands
that twinkle more than your eyes do
For I was blinded,
and I wanted to forget.
To forget how you lit up every
piece inside of me
and left with an agonizing
heat that started a fire in my lungs
I tried to breathe you out
but your entirety has consumed
whatever monsters I had.
Now, you’ve replaced all of them – the monsters.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 2:24 PM UTC