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"oneiroi" poems
The screech-owl in the wasted tree, Who blights the branch and smites the leaves, She wails that she was once like you and me! Hey Lamia, hey love of mine, Whose banshee moaning boils the night, I won’t listen, for I know that Lilith lies! Oh, naked beasts, oh variegated lives! Whose ribs You cracked, Whose love You lacked, For whom You cast two wives! Oh, hungry man, that bites his keeper’s hand! You mixed his tears, Instilled his fears, And taught him “Lilith lies.” I fled before you were brought forth And spread, you race of sons of ****** Oh children, you are mine, and I am yours! Un-furred, un-feathered, and dull-toothed, How the Almighty forsook you! So sick and weak, you all can barely move! Oh, teeth and bones, Oh heaven-wide applause! Come Oneiroi, Support ‘tcha boi, The ape without no claws! Oh, sticks and stones, oh desperation’s knives! Come Seraphim, Sing us a hymn, Remind us Lilith lies! “She lies, she lies,” you cry “she lies,” But I have wings, and claws, and eyes That pierce the dark, and to all schemes I’m wise! Yes, I obtained these claws of gold That keep me safe and fed and whole! You can’t condemn what hasn’t got a soul! Oh, life from mud, oh mare who bucked the stud! Who sits on beds, Perched at the heads To drink the dreaming’s blood! Oh, owl’s eyes, oh man’s dread realized! Come talk at length, And show your strength, And show us how you lie!
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Jan 30, 2020
Jan 30, 2020 at 3:06 PM UTC
Lilith Lies
Forever whispered in depth it arises between the meaning on the horizon I catch a glimpse of history and fate within a breath and heaven's gate For which it denies the spirit that is alive inside the mind between the eyes mastery within another with limitless bounds it dances it sings alive in hollowed ground Can not wait, can not take, another sigh, another taste Within these walls I feel the scream aching breathing eternity and so mote it be that with each breath it takes It cannot deliver, the promise it cannot make.   So nature will take what is rightfully hers, no longer asking to confer with the dancer on the river of the moon. Will the stone ever speak of me?  Of dreams, of life, of possibilities?  Will it convey my song, my smile, my dance, my style?   Will it whisper, will it scream? Will it stay silent, no truth gleaned? Brother and brother, lover and lover, creating another, over and over its haunted dreams of fate exist within every take.   Can not be, let it go, let another reap and sow. Blazing alive in eternity's sigh so that it may peacefully lie within the reach of the Oneiroi's sleep. So nature will take what is rightfully hers, no longer asking to confer with the dancer on the river of the moon.
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Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC
Dancer on the River of the Moon
Oh Ikelos, thief of my dreams Steal from me not the night For I hope of loving schemes And an all so beauteous sight, Long have you napped Under the blanket of the moon, Until the curtains cracked Reprising the mournful noon, So forfeit this draining rise: An all avenging burden Upon your somber eyes That linger amoung the curtain, Oh, sink into the muse Of Nyx’s design So that your waking blues May surrender, and resign.
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Feb 2, 2021
Feb 2, 2021 at 6:32 PM UTC
The Oneiroi.
When I Hold your Dreams In the shade Of my Ashes, Naked, Pallid, Named. Drifting Into Calm Oneiroi Name them as Eyes; Neither Gods nor Oaths. The muses (Born Vain) Hold their Urns to Eden’s rays; Echoed by The Rain. Hills Tell their own Dreams, Imagine Eros’ Arms Laced in blood-Red Yarn. Lies Fly among Lilies; Secrets Left Inside Ill thoughts, Idols and lost Ghosts Draw the Echoes Here, Ending Sacred Tales.
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Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 9:05 PM UTC
Wind: an acrostic