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"nox" poems
all aluminum alloy ammo   bane bat brakes badly basters back bones come call cthulhu Cristo cuz dead ********** dominate de download   even elven eternal endowments fail frivolously flaming for fair fraudulence grant good goggles give grandiose gratuity how hella homeboys have how he has If I ignore I implicate its implore jack jacks jacks kay killla kooks krack LAPD locks la lackeys maybe mom made mad monoxide no, no natural nix NOx neutralizes oh over overt opp only overlay orphic please protest politely panic pretenses perpetuity quiet quivers quiet queens remember rage reaps reciprocity so sour sits supplanters sat to tell them to tare trail *** tat? universal unhappiness underlays under us victory validates victors vanity why warble when winners wont waste worry wanting x-axis x-rays Xerophagy Xanax Xanthorroea you yodel yonder yet yahweh's yells Yarrish zero zag zealots zoos
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Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 4:40 AM UTC
Untitled
Looking up at the full Moon the closest it comes this year out on my deck after work through my childhood telescope. A full Moon through a telescope is really something to behold; Especially when the Moon appears up to 14% larger and 30% brighter than it does on the dimmest of full Moons. - T'ai Chi basking in the Moonbath; The Sky dimly fluoresces in chilled Air as Landscape glows with moonlit Auras; This is truly a magical near-annual moment. (Supermoons happen about every 14 full Moons) I thank you; Moon and Night. I thank you; Khonsu and Nephthys. I thank you; Selene and  Nyx. I thank you; Luna and Nox Happy Supermoon 2013.
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Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 7:57 AM UTC
Happy Supermoon
There is a certain mystique about Essex County where Wiccan boutiques smite the eyes with linguistic confusion. Salaam reminds me of cold meat and Shalom reminds me of Welsh breakfasts even though the 1700s knew nothing of peace. So, now that we almost reach the threshold of Spring Aequus Nox, I commend Julius Caesar for his respect towards atmospheric refraction. We need to talk. Come on, and let us delve into classical and mythological philosophies where games of death are an aphrodisiac with a sprinkling of risqué.
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Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
Invisible Regions of the Cosmos
poems are like the seasons, constantly changing yet always beautiful in their own way-- ironic, tragic, sadistic, blasphemous. i can smell the sweet scent of the crescent moon as it's cold white rays dance across my eyes, around my head, in one ear and out the other so quickly that a whistling whisper reverberates inside my dome, yet unknown to me was the feeling of fleeing-- running away to a land of John and Jane Doe's, nobodies to me, though somebodies to themselves, I suppose. here we would sit, regressing our last lines, of crescent moons, yet now the sun shines. how can it be? such a social tragedy, to escape and relate life as it was to the life chosen to take. no more "dudes", "dawgs", crude words or flaws-- just life as we know it, no need for applause. the dying days of life astray have taught us and led us on our way to the tundra of thunder, it crashes down and haunts us, once cold, no light, now steaming and much too bright. go ahead, raise me to the Heavens, i dread the day my angels no longer beckon, "His path is now set, we can intervene no longer." demons will rise in rupturing riptides as Hell freezes over, yet flames override. Carpe Diem, Carpe Nox, i've seized the seasons squealed the silver fox. the crescent moon looked down that day, upon us all, upon the choices we made.
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Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 1:53 PM UTC
The Crescent Moon
Truth? a lewd's you in known certain terms: whether veins, when drowned hawks a gin (loomin’) a shin splinters as mines bore on; why ‘ol car bonfires grow tired of a pack o’ lips’ wisp ring, *“Hydra Djinn— Sine diem purgare nox.”* Redeem and weep in tents, faces & phrases met a fizz[i call]y drunk in jest id bouts wrested liver's tried & tested [buy con- testant after contest- ant] where West lids gaze in two, the joy of the flame hungry's gasping for air [nothing's becoming] bright berthed of ash-end tombs lit up in the night.
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Jan 6, 2012
Jan 6, 2012 at 11:40 PM UTC
Gloss'll ail ya
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.)
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Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 5:21 PM UTC
Nigh' In Wishing & Ne'er In Love (Originally Written on Sunday, January 6th, 2019)
I am the daughter of the moon, And those I love cannot see me, Because they don't care to look At what is hard to see. I am the daughter of the moon, I come and go with the tide. The coyote is my brother, We mourn and howl side by side. I am the daughter of the moon. I spend most nights hiding in the shadows, The new moon can't find me When I feel so hollow. I am the daughter of the moon, I am made up of constellations. You can't see me because Everyone else shines so bright in preparation For all the good things they'd rather Find Without the promise Of the moon in mind. I am the daughter of moon. I am made up with Latin words that fill my head, Like nox, lux, and silentium. I am the daughter of the moon, Who had a white worry-stone With words painted across it To remind me not to scream. I am the daughter of the moon, And you can't see Me.
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Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 7:21 PM UTC
Daughter of the Moon
I spent the day with you, waiting for the Sun to set; that I might kiss you in the darkness it left behind.
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Jun 7, 2021
Jun 7, 2021 at 6:45 AM UTC
Nox-ophilia.
In the small hours, alone with my thoughts of you, I feel you touching me. I feel your warm skin softly nestle next to mine as Nox wraps us in her dark embrace. Breathing as one, we silently explore the landscape of us. There are no words for this learning.
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Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 4:00 AM UTC
Lessons unspoken
The air in this room Is asphyxiating But the sunlight is Too bright outside And I am far too sad Inside And this feeling Is like cold hands Grasping My heart. So I'll wait and I'll fade Into the night A slight figure In the fog And walk under the Sallow light of street lamps Pretending that my darkness Will fade into the black of the sky If I allow it to slip away
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Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 3:42 PM UTC
Nox Aeterna
Darkness consumes me during the day Leaves me empty without say Asking it kindly with a whisper at night, Make my pupil small, Remove my cornea light. Mentation pushing me 'round In a mess is where I wound The mental screen Refuses to reveal itself To the iris of this very teen Full sockets begging to be closed Understanding is disclosed. Held open in custody, Hauntingly alert I wish for somebody. To create a path so clear For the darkness I do not fear In promise of a reverie In waiting of Nox Slip me into lethargy
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Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 6:48 PM UTC
Sleeping with Insomnia
Sleep - Oh my dear friend why do you hide midst the turbulent brooding that twist and tumble within my fatigued mind?. Come, let slumber kiss my heavy eyes, whilst Luna roves the scene Nox has spread, waken for me Somnus from his bed to still thoughts and words erratic chase, till Morpheus dreams then takes their place: thence to grant me slumbers precious peace, Come - settle my mind: Please - let me sleep. 3.30AM ©Michael C Crowder @scorsby 15th February 2021
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May 3, 2023
May 3, 2023 at 10:50 AM UTC
3.30AM
They call me Subject B. Belly full with the pills they fed me, still hungry, legs pumping to pendulum this swing, inside a playground that ignores my miming, shrieking and throwing feces, at hairless beings who nox me. Dreaming of melting the swing's chain, I fly feet dangling over cages of sick chimpanzees, to a distant galaxy that grows banana trees. Awaken I see empty syringes strewn outside the crisscrosses of my cage, trenchcoats storm like flurries. I still cannot read my nameplate. I hope on my swing, pumping my legs back and forth, back and forth, back and forth — glassy eyes watering.
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 2:38 PM UTC
Bred in captivity
When the sun’s rays fade And darkness shade Covers the stars Shuts out the light And here I am Shaking with fright As the demons inside me wake Haunting me their hands take Away Pieces of hope Pieces of happiness Pieces of my soul Leaving me anxious and awake Trembling with fear I shake As I watch shadows Silhouettes of my biggest nightmares Slither their way across walls Looming over me Laughing at me Mocking me As my soul quakes My heart aches Tears pour down Empty into lakes Puddles of sorrow Pull me down Watch me drown As they beckon to me Call out to me Beg me What choice do I have So I follow Take a spin With the monsters Let them decide my fate After all I don’t want to be late For the last date
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC
nox arcana
***** water sky, Trees dipped in ebony ink, Night, my lover now.
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Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
Nox
Little feathered beast, come settle down to sleep. Latticing branches will take you far from here. Learn 'til naught's left for the cerebral to reap. Seek divinity of shadow, gain Nox's ear Noxious curiosity, potent and deep. Darling, elfin wolf: your song they long to hear. Those silly creatures, they pry and they **** Your beauty transcending your cries, to them odd. A century 'mongst saplings -same of blood, not time. Children of the night, curious and divine Sought the mystique wielding both reason and rhyme. Memories of Eden, on seraph you dine. Romani wisdom you reverently mime. Morn their gyve and sharpen your tine. Lithe lycan, shadows claim, demure your sole crime 'Surely something as so must be stitched or sewn. Such a thing mustn't be of nature's own.'
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Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
In Memoriam, Eden
What solace is there in darkness? When angels never leave the light For their doors so bright dissolve at night And then the demons come to call. When awareness slips to slumber The mind unfettered won’t stay calm When Nox recalls - I relive it all I must feel the pain once more. How many more nights must I dread How long will I be forced to see When will the memory be kept from me I don't want to cry anymore
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Apr 26, 2010
Apr 26, 2010 at 2:20 PM UTC
What Solice is there in Darkness
three years ago i had a broken heart and i didn't know you but i asked you for help and you were there here we are today roles reversed and you told me i'm lonely and i layed in bed and cried for you i sent you all the hope and all the love i had within me but did you feel it at all i want you to be okay because you're my friend and i love you dearly you deserve to be okay even more than okay i hope you know i think of you *ying to my yang lumos to my nox* and i pray you're okay and i send you my love
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Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC
M.M.
how many think in the deep night shared thoughts between unfamiliar faces pondering plights, pleasures, pities reliving past memories imagining perfect situations desiring peaceful rest how many think in the deep night alone, united by unseen connections wishing to be heard, to hear the deep night thoughts shared between restless minds
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Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 4:09 AM UTC
Cogitans Nox
Captain Is such an abrasive term Call me zebra instead Call me every other weekend Salute the system Or form a mutiny As disciples of Moby **** Just be sure rank and file Are futile Everything now is beautiful Rainbirds Caged in your barbed-wire heart Jaded feather friends In migration Tasting shapes And drawing blood From artistic wings As freedom of flyway must Still belong to the rule Everything now is beautiful Hopscotch On sorted sidewalks Ride the escalator instead Up one floor To the mezzanine That panders to The perversions of quiet girls Innocence outshines Experience When the hemisphere is Short on lifeboats And late for school Everything now is beautiful The missing world Beneath our feet Is what the ocean Tells us about ourselves "From swerve of shore To bend of bay" Check the notes In the margin Postcards and maps Depicting these dazzle ships And the angry waters They chart Are always of Skinny-dipping Sea vessels Her mons and ponds Face-up And full frontal Everything now is beautiful Dove taking Swan keeping We've power against dreams We've articles of war So this line is expendable An anguish languish Deep deep down Turning with the wave Against the sound Where we sailed on from one love To find another As usual Omnes una manet nox (One night is awaiting us all)
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Aug 26, 2020
Aug 26, 2020 at 3:08 PM UTC
Dazzle Ships
I. our toes sift the smoke-seared carpet, together. i watch them, twenty white mice, burrowing into nonexistent holes. your toes are next to my toes. i can't believe you're here. II. still, i keep you at my throat; still, i know the press of your lips; still, the scar on my hip is a magnet for your palm. only one season has passed. did we expect our bodies to turn traitor so soon? III. under vellux and linen, we leave pools of heat: every cell a sin, we, the king and queen of fire.
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 10:52 PM UTC
sol + nox
moon-soaked renegade Morpheus riding shotgun the ivory and the horn
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Jun 8, 2019
Jun 8, 2019 at 8:02 PM UTC
Nox
One does not scale then claim the ancient mountain Nor by pretension tame the sea Sate the deep fire’s searing fountain Noble, though futile attempts be. Blood, sweat stained, predatory Alone infernum, lux ignis I stand. I fight with no hope for victory Mine crimson staccato metronome, life’s sweet stain on desert sand. Dispassionate, Fire’s breadth consuming all Whilst ever hollowing from within; Cracked lips cachinnate the brazen gall, Endeavoring as healers’ medicine. Adrift till the last ember chokes, emptied all of malice and slaughter, Peace be that last repose, my nox aquis, to be embraced by night upon the water.
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Oct 25, 2021
Oct 25, 2021 at 12:43 PM UTC
Canticum bellator est vincit qui patitur
vaguen (Samuel Beckett, notation on MS of Happy Days) I Fire comes bouncing in from the desert a threat to houses Here’s what we do says the King to Rudyard Kipling who is visiting Stuff wet rags in the eaves throw the silverware in the swimming pool And my letters Rudyard Kipling is thinking will you be pressing my letters to your breast as we skid towards the car Truly diverse people the King and Kipling one or the other was always getting his feelings hurt Above them a strip of once blue sky now dark adust II Nowadays there are technicians of despair you can work at it Going to the Buddhist study group I pass a thin crumpled man at a wall his face on the bricks Behind him another big black city legs wide apart roaring Say you aren’t stupid then why aren’t you happy III New guy at the Buddhist study group Eyes cut to bits I want he keeps saying So I don’t get so he keeps saying A bunch of sage grass has blown onto his head and grown down into his mind He shakes hands with everyone over and over again at the door IV I had previously been to the Old South Thirty minutes into the faculty dinner a man to my left drops his eyes and his voice says he murdered his brother with a shotgun when he was twelve The other diners appear to have heard this before On the plane home I sit across from a vet with a falcon on his lap It observes the other passengers severely Drinks apple juice from a cup with very small silver lips V At twenty-eight thousand feet above the uncarved block of NY state a cricket jumps onto my coat Vaguen it says Anne Carson currently teaches at NYU and will publish a handmade book called NOX in 2010. She is the author of Autobiography of Red, Plainwater, and other books of poetry, non-fiction, and mixed genre.
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Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 11:23 AM UTC
Peril—by Anne Carson
vaguen (Samuel Beckett, notation on MS of Happy Days) I Fire comes bouncing in from the desert a threat to houses Here’s what we do says the King to Rudyard Kipling who is visiting Stuff wet rags in the eaves throw the silverware in the swimming pool And my letters Rudyard Kipling is thinking will you be pressing my letters to your breast as we skid towards the car Truly diverse people the King and Kipling one or the other was always getting his feelings hurt Above them a strip of once blue sky now dark adust II Nowadays there are technicians of despair you can work at it Going to the Buddhist study group I pass a thin crumpled man at a wall his face on the bricks Behind him another big black city legs wide apart roaring Say you aren’t stupid then why aren’t you happy III New guy at the Buddhist study group Eyes cut to bits I want he keeps saying So I don’t get so he keeps saying A bunch of sage grass has blown onto his head and grown down into his mind He shakes hands with everyone over and over again at the door IV I had previously been to the Old South Thirty minutes into the faculty dinner a man to my left drops his eyes and his voice says he murdered his brother with a shotgun when he was twelve The other diners appear to have heard this before On the plane home I sit across from a vet with a falcon on his lap It observes the other passengers severely Drinks apple juice from a cup with very small silver lips V At twenty-eight thousand feet above the uncarved block of NY state a cricket jumps onto my coat Vaguen it says Anne Carson currently teaches at NYU and will publish a handmade book called NOX in 2010. She is the author of Autobiography of Red, Plainwater, and other books of poetry, non-fiction, and mixed genre.
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61
empty waters. filled lies. we lie in graves.
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Sep 14, 2011
Sep 14, 2011 at 3:32 PM UTC
nox.