"nether" poems
Everyday I'm falling deeper
I stalk you like a creeper, creeper
Nothing can keep me away
EnderMen better stay away
I'll travel to the Nether for you
I'd **** the EnderDragon for you
I started with 10 hearts to spare
But now I couldn't really care
The only heart that's really crucial
Is the one I give to you
I've traveled deserts, plains, and seas
Fought cougars, Ghasts, and rotting zombies
I've looted desert temples and villiages
I am nothing but a pillagar
I'll love you until I'm very old
But its as hard to find you as a stronghold
I started with 10 hunger to spare
But now I couldn't really care
If you're hungry, I know what I'd do
I'd give all my food to you
Because I love you (Minecraft)
I really do
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 1:20 PM UTC
.
In a costume of conflicting emotion,
of crossing diamondic colour,
with regal posture in grief,
the Harlequin and the King,
a display of opposites
creating a composite being,
that eases her body
gently into the waiting water,
to float away serene,
on her journey to the nether.
Midnight blue and emerald green,
the regalia of ermine,
both ostentatious and humble,
robeing the aspects,
understated in crowning splendour,
the gentleman King bows,
and the Harlequin laughs,
the bi-polar reaction
to the tragedy of misfortune,
with a sting in the myth-tale.
With the dark hues of mourning,
a legend passes on her way,
across the streams of time,
on a voyage to discover herself,
carrying her Harlequin in a purse,
holding her King to her breast,
owning them both in her heart,
the medicine wheel spins,
knowing the grapes of wrath
yield the wine of spite.
The motley speckles of attire,
a starry parody of night skies,
lighting the decorated funeral barge,
gliding along the rivers of space,
worn with the mantle of sorrow,
and it sails into the sunset,
as the Harlequin and King observe,
the mandala turns,
the bier of the Queen departing,
bears their sadness forth.
The Harlequin laughs and laughs 'til he cries,
his heart grows cold, then withers and dies,
whilst the King, statuesque, memoirs his life,
lamenting the legend of a Queen, his wife.
© Pagan Paul (24/07/18)
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 5:51 AM UTC
Sacred fires burning bright
Purging the flesh of my being
Becoming one with the light
Scorching the cells of my mortal body
4 Illuminate
3 the masses
4 Self-immolate
3 to ashes
1 break
3 conciousness
4 cosmic I lapse
3 death cleanses
8 dissipate into the nether
4 essence of life
3 extinguished
4 the chains that bind
3 relinquished
1 Pain
3 Surging through
4 Serenity
3 Gleaming blaze
I, long to be cosmic,
dissipate into illumination
To, become the nether -
to lapse in lost
consciousness
Then I shoot off in space and time,
soaring through illusions
Light years from reality,
distant pixels
8 Obsessing through the tesseract,
6 scouring past illusions
7 beyond spatiality,
4 distant pixels
Drifting, no sense or feel
Flames of color, figments of my creation
Drift in-to the surreal,
Chasing fractals defragments my cognition
Dreaming in discordance
Life confined in simulation
A glitch in the matrix
Lies conceived through my perception
Breathe
I, long to be spectral,
fluctuate right through this oscilation
To, attain the ether -
planetary
cognizance
Then I shoot off in space and time,
soaring through illusions
Light years from reality,
distant pixels
Obsessing through the tesseract,
scouring past illusions
beyond spatiality,
distant pixels
Drifting, no sense or feel
Flash of colors, figments of my creation
Drift in-to the surreal,
Chasing fractals defragments my cognition
Dreaming in discordance
Life confined in simulation
A glitch in the matrix
Lies conceived through my perception
Breathe
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
All strung
out
on
sadness,
empty shells
of needles
that injected
the next defense
to keep me going
splayed upon
the coldness
of metal
somewhere in a place
lower than
the floorboards
of the nether regions
of a private hell,
where no one sees
the truth behind
the doors of
beaten swords
of silken pictures
in frothy shades
of effervescent green
a smiling happy family
in which the
sounds of drowning
can only be
vaguely heard
a faded gurgle
in an ocean of sighs
Somewhere, there,
the pain in my veins
spreads like
a self-administered
drug
only it's not
my prescription, at all
just a parody
from the very
sick doctor
who shares
this house,
meant to
be a home
one who thinks
he knows it all
but knows nothing
In this dreamlike weaving
of staring blankly
into alternative spaces
when all is so heavy
that even breathing is a task
I suddenly remember
who the **** I am
and push my gaze through
the ceiling cracks
to look up at
the stars,
receiving their
shadows
of light
like a blessing
upon my
nettle-stung
tongue
and
rise
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 5:27 PM UTC
His brother’s on my arm;
Cursing the opposing appendage,
For I’d killed his only sibling.
And I’d lie.
And I’d die.
I’d admit to none other,
But come the beer-scented blood he’d know –
My sibling’d just been married.
My other sibling’d just cursed mom.
My other sibling’d kissed a girl.
And the other, more just than most,
Ventured nether; near and dying.
Leaving me ripe
And if only pursued, by all that’d ever odyssey;
Family, vengeance and nature.
So to, brother feeds.
And I’d lie.
And I’d die.
And I’d admit to none other –
His caress and how my arm’d gone lukewarm.
The only, “kiss,” in years and almost a first,
Come lonely soul to feed, in addition a few more.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
I walk in this world not quite a part of it.
I see events around me unfold.
They nether change me or define me.
I muse at their hollowness.
They do not exist on my plane.
But, they are stones to tread on.
I watch as oppression flexes its strength.
I smile to myself
My world, my life.
I exist above oppression and violence.
My mind, my intelligence is free.
Take my land, loved ones, treasures of this world.
They wait for me in the dawn of eternal round.
You have no power over me.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
inspired by Ben Noah Suri
<*>
come to us in twilight, and just before sunrise,
in the in~between times, when souls exit and enter.
through microscopic cosmic windows, and there
is nothing but you and the full emptiness of earth
and then!
fill our void with words as yet unborn,
and aid all our passages from nether to glory...
for you,
we, await...
for guidance inherited from
all your visions of greater-than-us metamorphosis
<*>
upon first awakening and reaffirmation of life,
reading the first poem of the day
6:59am
Sabbath
Sep 13
2025
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 7:01 AM UTC
over a snow-covered mountain top in heaven
some secret river lies
stirring not earthwards
this river of the Gods
and then a prince disturbs
her peaceful ferocity
with determined prayer to cleanse
the sins of his forefathers
Look she trembles with wounded pride!
Not a mere mortal river is she
a Goddess, her anger awakened
but she must proceed
the Gods have asked her so she shall go
but she makes her displeasure known
threatening to swallow all of existence
she follows
the earth shakes
it cannot hold her weight
her power her strength her majestic gait
life-giver, she is now a messenger of death
in her anger she is beautiful,
this world cannot sustain her
only he who wields the trident
can reign in her fall
and then the Mahadev traps her
even as she falls in a mighty torrent
thinking she will sweep him
to the nether regions
in his locks she is lost
struggling, she resembles
the naga around his neck
she spits like a cobra
this immortal river
stays tangled in his locks for many a year
till, defeated and frustrated
she begs forgiveness
and then with his blessings
she trickles down
still furious in pace
but in heart at peace
the mother of all rivers-
this river of rebirth
her sound like thunder
her hair like streaks of lightning
celestial beings witness
the skies are lit
the parched earth satiated
Ganga has descended
as Bhagirathi
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
03.09.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 3:32 AM UTC
(and I cannot live
from with-out)
<>
a poem in appreciation to Rossella Di Paolo
<>
I, too:
- am an embryonic work in progress,
well into my seventh decade, with no ending in sight
I too,
live in the house of poetry, the address likely differs,
but suspect the innards of the houses differs little,
the decor, quite similar
- my house shrewdly requests a rethinking,
noting, it lives my artifice,
with in & with out
Then, we are a We:
- my cavities house her, She, Poetry is of Ruth (1) born,
- Poetry, She, reminds me, ”whither thou goest, I will go”
This duality:
- where the haunting of words providential,
emanate, both inhabiting & inhibits my breathing
She, a fearsome creature, a fearful-something,
for it tears me and shreds tears its demands be wrung
from with in to with out
She, Poetry:
- leaves me gaping, hollow, fills me with
depressurizing boreholes exposed to the elements of
externalities of an admixed atmospheres, that nature demands be refilled, fresh in, stale out,
for which the artifice trick is knowing which is which
when Poetry’s birthing:
- chest pounds, heart-rate beats heavy metal,
abdomen contracts, there then, no languid in my language,
no help untangling the alpha-bet jumbling,
product of the screams of pushing,
squeezing it forth*
*you’re hoping to quick-catch newly formed combinations,
for if you fail, a poem
noisily crashes to and through the floorboard cracks,
where poetry’s chaotic glinting etes
maliciously glimmer~winks at me
with a sarcastic thank you*
*“ah, too bad, another creation stillborn,
gone to rest, biting the nether dust,
without hope of resuscitation…”*
just another unfinished work in progress
periodically
a survivor clean caught, transcribed, edited to be finished,
amniotic fluids cleared,
poem resurrected
blessed with eternal life,
readied to be shared and delivered,
affirmed
and you say to no one and to everyone:
this poem will be our poem,
wither it goes, ascending, descending,
all live in the house of poets,
one house,
many apartments,
each poem a god,
and
my God will be our God,
your God, my God,
in the House of Poetry
Jun 21, 2023
Jun 21, 2023 at 5:55 PM UTC
~
in sympathy, in honor, in horror
with those whose heads are shaved
against their free will
and to uncover
my nakedness before you,
as prisoner, as victim, as poet,
nothing must come between us
even this:
*and yet,
the prickly stubble head resprouts
soon enough,
spring floral efforts
an annual reminder,
that even undisguised and exposed,
my bald palate plate,*
is just another nether hiding place
~
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 5:39 PM UTC
the newbie failure complex(ity)
the poems come torrentially,
hurricane, waterfall & tornado are working adjectives
worthy of the task, yet unequal to the unlimited army
of the written dead of unread poems and poets
that occupy the nether of blog, podcast, and poetry sites,
orphan stars in the un-salvaged junkyard galaxy of verbiage
a faceless wight, once alive, now permanently dead,
we shuffle march, chanting each our own newbie poem,
onward soldiers to ignominy and glory so fleeting,
we are forgot before we are remembered
*this is life in poetry,
or better yet,
the worst of it, (sigh)
this is the poetry of lives*
all for nought,
nought for all,
at least we pass our prison time
in the company of fellow strugglers*
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 5:44 PM UTC
our bread and butter...
*the web of stars,
the scatter of moons
and orbiting planets.*
the entire universe
harvested and crammed
into the metre,
of a poetic verse.
our bread and butter...
*harnessing the regal rays of the sun.
inflating the fluff of quiet clouds.
drinking up the winds of the weather.
revering the magic in the flight of birds.*
we fill our cups to the brim...
with fantastical dreams
and let spill
over parchment
the cornucopia of idealised words.
our bread and butter...
the incessant peeling and picking
on healing wounds.
of which we have learnt to savour...
*let bleed
the willing blood...
feed the seeds
with impending flood.*
nurture to fruition
thoughts stunted in discretion.
bring to light
thoughts hidden in the nether.
our bread and butter...
we dip...
the nibs,
of our word worn feathers.
let them sink,
shallow beneath the surface
to the sanctity of a familiar place.
*casting our trials,
and tribulations...
pent up emotions,
and what we think
unto paper
with the burn of
everlasting ink.*
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 9:16 AM UTC
Stuck in a rut of who i want to be
A constant feeling of being stuck at sea
No where to turn
No lessons to learn
Complete isolation
Is this what i diserve
A raven with no wings
Leaves a bird who wont sing
Waves shake and rock me
But i continue on
My boat keeps me afload
Keeping steady and strong
Thrown on this raft at a very young age
Constant sun burn and dehidration have my eyes crazed
Two people inside my mind
Im in control but struggle all the time
Out of sight
Out of mind
Is the story of my life
Full of fright
Now im blind
Must continue this fight
When suddenly i meet an unsuspecting creature
A very tired wolf with a very high fever
I take this wolf onto my floating door
Lick her wounds and give her compassion
...
Something nether of them have had before
The stranded raven adores the wolf
Infatuated with its being
After licking her wound
Her leg has stopped bleeding
But soon the raven will lick to much
The wolf snarls at the raven and howls to say enough
The raven retreats to his side of the tire
The close quarters would make the raven and wolf very tired
The raven was never raised as a hatchling
Rite out the egg starving
No incubation
No warmth for the raven
He is horrible to the wolf
Without knowing why
Could be his need to die
Could be his constant crying
The raven loves the wolf
This is clear
But he has had evil tendencies for many years
He hurts the wolf
He gets bitten
He hurts the wolf
He gets bitten
He hurts the wolf
He gets bitten
He hurts the wolf
He gets bitten
Now the raven is bleeding
Missing many feathers
Looking at the wolf
Stunned
The raven is starting to see what he has done
And he sits on his corner of the raft for months
He walks over to the wolf
Licks her heart
And says i should have been your boat from the start
I should never have hurt you
Drouned you
And im sorry
I offer you my neck as payment
The raven loves the wolf
This is clear
And decides to be a new bird
For the rest of his years
A cardinal appears from the raven
The black carcass falls
And the cardinal is born
And the wolf heals up
Never to be torn
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 12:26 AM UTC
Divine Minds Transcend
This life is full of circus mirrors made to distort what matters.
When the ride slows down, and our mind begins to clear, we frantically try to quiet the chatter.
Layer after layer we shed our fears until our ego is found,
drowned in the light of a supernova,
then shattered loud with glorious sound.
The earth is a living, breathing body, fragile as it comes undone.
This body has a thriving soul, pulsating inside a honeycomb.
This body has a mind with an ego, that believes it's in full control.
The time has come for our consciousness to ascend to the next level.
The nether world will greet you when the last grain of sand drops,
in the hourglass of fallen people, deep inside a single thought.
We all must follow the burning flock, or purge our life of the ego.
Will you answer if they knock, and begin the spirit walk?
If you walk I shall join you and leave behind a sequel.
Death ends the circle of life, soon our bodies will be vaporized.
Hold my hand and close your eyes, hug me tight but do not run,
for tonight the skies ignite in the glory of our supernova sun.
Layer after layer we shed our fears until our ego is found,
drowned in the light of a supernova,
then shattered loud with glorious sound.
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 6:24 AM UTC
We find bottomless holes
In our mentalized theories
Local logical postulations
Cause-and-effect sequences
Perceived chain reactions
And medical research findings.
All those are quintessentially
Protein specs floating freely
Our words float like protein
Fondly called lewy bodies
Colorless and unsubstantial
Dreams in shreds floating
As in amniotic fluid like then.
A certain woman of less virtue
Was not fit for our society
She embraced men in dark
In dreams and art and thought.
Fuzzy scenes of yesteryears
Floated into the present
Including ego and power games.
Let me know who is this professor-
The man who brought it all up.
Our language loses meaning.
We do not agree you are you.
Actually you cease to be a son
A brother ,a person ,a human
You are a hand or a stone
Just a broken splinter for a whole .
My part becomes a whole
A thing is a word, an idea,an event
A daughter-in-law is a hand
A son a stone in the wilderness.
There is sorrow swirling in the belly
The anguish of a human existence
The pain in the bloated stomach
These forced feet take you nowhere
Men came with tails in their necks
Forcing down tiny white universes
When they go into the nether world
There is only a swirl in the belly.
May 20, 2010
May 20, 2010 at 6:14 PM UTC
WRITTEN FOR HIS MOTHER
Dame du ciel, regents terrienne,
Emperiere des infemaux palus....
Lady of Heaven and earth, and therewithal
Crowned Empress of the nether clefts of Hell,—
I, thy poor Christian, on thy name do call,
Commending me to thee, with thee to dwell,
Albeit in nought I be commendable.
But all mine undeserving may not mar
Such mercies as thy sovereign mercies are;
Without the which (as true words testify)
No soul can reach thy Heaven so fair and far.
Even in this faith I choose to live and die.
Unto thy Son say thou that I am His,
And to me graceless make Him gracious.
Said Mary of Egypt lacked not of that bliss,
Nor yet the sorrowful clerk Theopbilus,
Whose bitter sins were set aside even thus
Though to the Fiend his bounden service was.
Oh help me, lest in vain for me should pass
(Sweet ****** that shalt have no loss thereby!)
The blessed Host and sacring of the Mass
Even in this faith I choose to live and die.
A pitiful poor woman, shrunk and old,
I am, and nothing learn'd in letter-lore.
Within my parish-cloister I behold
A painted Heaven where harps and lutes adore,
And eke an Hell whose ****** folk seethe full sore:
One bringeth fear, the other joy to me.
That joy, great Goddess, make thou mine to be,—
Thou of whom all must ask it even as I;
And that which faith desires, that let it see.
For in this faith I choose to live and die.
O excellent ****** Princess! thou didst bear
King Jesus, the most excellent comforter,
Who even of this our weakness craved a share
And for our sake stooped to us from on high,
Offering to death His young life sweet and fair.
Such as He is, Our Lord, I Him declare,
And in this faith I choose to live and die.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti, trans.
3.1k
They came one day from where I know not.
Unholy structures came to ground, certainly from another world.
They wasted nothing of their time to cast affliction upon us.
We ran away in terror in certain fear of our own lives.
Many were seized and thrown into confinement, others inspected and probed, many of us were taken away and subjected to internal examination even dismemberment, anatomical scrutiny.
We had become the source of food for our invaders.
Additional crafts came from the heavens joining their forbears.
Havoc was extreme as their weapons did their worst creating carnage in every different direction.
They lay waste to every surface and their vehicles cast out foul pollutants which poisoned the very air we breath.
Our world was quickly becoming an inhabitable, desolate disconsolate place and extinction our future.
Some of the braver of us tried to fight back but this alien nation had weapons and tools the like of nothing we had ever seen.
The lucky ones escaped into the nether regions and watched from afar as piece by burning piece their birthplaces were destroyed.
These Humans intend to colonise all that they see and our world will never be the same place again.
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 2:23 PM UTC
Wicked nether-land. Nether world, white, askance. Capitulating mangroves, verdant trees spliced with hyperbole, onomatopoeia, and manilla envelopes; her world is stuffed with secrets, she listens to gorillas cracking mussels a kilometer away, near a rill. Never she thought. Nothing that could provide....providence. Mangled heliographs sprayed all over the everywhereworld.
"Don't be S.A.F.E.," she whispered. A bouquet of gorse, cistus, and pimpernels squished in her small fingers. She climbed her way through the pedimented stairway, then collapsing on the porch. Legs spent, and spread out upon the desiccate grayed four by four planks of the portico.
And as time elapses, the shuttering shake of the hemlock, which writhes through her skinny nimble dactyls, upwards straining the heart as its toxic bends appendages- crisp cerise lumens bend on the Titanium White walls, where only shadows bend time. The hour, still nine. Every adornment, furnished with red and its hues. Not purple, periwinkle, or any masked enhancement.
These are the symbols that reticulate splines, that curve temperatures, perverse hemispheres and debunk worlds. Upped antes, verbs that terns flirt worth, birth words. Ooh. Aah. Camera. The forest wraps her in its verdant pasture, where at last the moribund tamarisks disperse.
While at the plateau she is quiet and longing. Arms astride, dangling. Vaunt with highs and bliss- a kiss of withstanding pleasure serves her the cure for a lifetime of whining. This, yesterday where her body rattled through crooked vines. Square ships toasting her vocal melancholy in the sweet-waters of Time. So that all of her ripened limbs could grow, no more sheepishly than the magic she knew as a child. Stress free. First among the Earth-words, verbed-up and made jealous by pronouns that encompassed her joy-brimming hide. Closing down her voice and hugging her from behind.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:44 AM UTC
https://soundcloud.com/nethersky/through-the-looking-glass
One makes you tiny, the other makes you oh so tall
One makes you happy, the other makes your body fall
Join me in Wonderland and I will show you something special
Join me in Wonderland, but leave your ego at the door
The nether world will greet you when the last grain of sand drops
within the magical hourglass inside our makers' thoughts
Layer after layer we shed our fear till the ego is found
Drowned by the light of a supernova
shattered loud with a glorious sound
(chorus)
Walk with me through the Looking Glass
leave your body behind and join me at last
Lay with me and forget the past
tonight the sky ignites over Wonderland
For you my friend I'll bake you a cake and
cover it with spice
One slice will change your life
The White Rabbit never lies
And then you wake up
now your mind is free
you're finally free
You can see together we
form a river of energy
(chorus)
Walk with me through the Looking Glass
leave your body behind and join me at last
Lay with me and forget the past
tonight the sky ignites over Wonderland
Laying down on my bed of shame
I feel that nothing ever stays the same
Oh I'm laying down on my bed of shame
I feel so much inside
this never-ending pain
(chorus)
Walk with me through the Looking Glass
leave your body behind and join me at last
Lay with me and forget the past
tonight the sky ignites over Wonderland
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 3:08 AM UTC
www.soundcloud.com/nethersky/my-dragon
I'm looking at myself through the mirror in my bathroom
I glance up on the shelf and see a box that's painted green
I look inside and find an egg that glowing oh so pretty
I take it to my room and place it on my pillow gently
That night I fell asleep and dreamt of dancing magic mushrooms
and then I woke to see my precious egg was cracked and broken
As bright as two sunrises in the middle of my room these eyes were glowing
what a beautiful surprise I see a baby dragon smiling at me
Do you feel alone in an ocean full of people
Have you always known that earth is not your home
We are both the same together we'll be happy
in a magic place a world we call our own
With one swoop of her wings, she flew above me
then let out a stream of fiery rings
is this happening to me?
This is a gift for a king and queen
am I lost in a magical dream
is this happening to me?
(Chorus)
I ride my dragon through space and time
together we will shine
in a world beneath the ocean
under the nether sky
My dragon you are my friend
together we will fly
to a world of magical wonder
under the nether sky
Have you ever wanted someone you can call a friend
depend on them no matter what
a good companion
always there through thick and thin
My dragon is the only friend
that will be with me to the end
and when that day comes she will lift me
far away
(chorus here)
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 2:20 AM UTC
Gold shed upon suckling gold,
The time of the bole blackens,
Of the dark mounted through dapple,
While in the sealed apple
The seed cradled toward cold.
A gold on gold spent,
Put by from an elm in its years
Now its gilded of days,
Over turf’s dishevelment;
Where all which is green sickens,
All the fresh shall be sere.
All which is green sickens,
And it is but for a time
Those embered veinings blaze
A year’s delirium;
Or neared of other space,
Unportioned azure shall close
One of more, and which is,
One which goes.
Let the little pupils that will,
Of vision, gaze for salt
To whet their gazing, wit
In one weather is high
From burrow and lair, by
Nether providences’ default
An all’s accrued.
And apposite, beyond
Such primer beholdings, has
Its long accounting known
The beetle’s morsel thus
Was rich, and the slug’s bed on
The oak’s generations, deep
Over the lark’s bones.
In slough of Edens fast
Wit in one weather shall stand,
While millennia nibble at
The sensual apple
Toppled it net,
Plenty in the palm of the hand,
And the fallen not fallen, not lost
From out its certitude—
For our unbeggaring
Has been gross. Few and late
To cherish an immoderate
Wish, hope’s calculus,
Love’s hope; few to miss,
From natural tally ******
In the lime-girdled space
Of choice, where alone
Man can abandon what
Is only his own;
And in cold and tarrying
Their rearisers sleep:
While to the granite cheek
Light’s purples bring
Infinite their ministering,
And past our finial
And ragged crests, to keep
Time’s ambient stood,
Propose horizons from
Their shadowy quarries; while,
In an unwandered wood,
Or under the indifferent foot,
Is let fall, let fall a fruit,
Through eternal leisures down,
For but time’s unravelling.
2.9k
Dissipate into oblivion
To become the nether
To lapse in consciousness
To enter the void
Flow to omniscience
Live without measure
To float through the meshwork
To drift through space-time
& Become the needle
To weave my percipience
& Teeter on the precipice
To transcend ascension
Ameliorate the ethereal
To glitch beyond boundaries
Defragment my surroundings
To eclipse the sun
In perpetual rapturing
Suspend reality
Be one with the everlasting
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 4:10 PM UTC
In homage - splicer of Aladdin's reel;
a bow, beneath the centered piece so drawn
and slants alive in shade of noblest seal,
no other blushing temptress ever worn.
To hasten tryst; may taint her Jasmine gaze
as lashes flutter onto other's love
how then beguile and keep her ardent daze,
thereby no more in spite - a lonely dove?
The mystic canvas; mine - eternal beat,
and soars in winds, which sail's her gentled tones,
adrift and glides, to bloom this rose, complete
once withered long beneath the hermit stones.
If journeyed nether brittle; sways no guise
remote and marvel then - her Jasmine eyes.
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 4:53 PM UTC
There was a light I was trying to find
in the darkness to which I was consigned
when I saw your candle floating in the nether
until then I thought I might be blind
succumbing to a manic mind
once we got together
a most glorious endeavor
for a bit of time
things couldn't get better
then everything died.
I saw a soul in a machine
I saw more than you'd believe
just from your candle glow
just before the wind would blow
I'd see you twisting
in gusts blistering
before taking off like a kite
flying into the perilous night.
You left me hanging
like the voluminous
cumulus
clouds above me
looking so lovely
thunder banging
becoming a sun screen
and it won't stop raining
inching into the umpteens
with no way of draining
and me still looking for something.
I guess I shouldn't be so easily triggered
knowing the time we spent
was just for rent
my text no longer says sent but delivered
so I wonder where you went
leaving me here to wither
I thought you were a giver
but now I lie alone to shiver
in the cold draft of my bedroom
your presence in my head looms
like an undead's tomb
living without life
just dread and doom
without you
just maybe mights
through Hades nights
with heavy gloom
under a shady kite
for which I've lost the handle
I was looking for light
and you gave me just a candle.
Mar 26, 2022
Mar 26, 2022 at 4:10 AM UTC