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"paeans" poems
The heady perfume of the Arabian Attars is in the air! A lunar litter brings Eid Antimony sulphide of the downcast eyes and the pinkish nails have been painted with henna Eid is a glorious gift Bliss is blossoming The blessings are blooming The fragrant roses and the white jasmines are being elated by a joyous colour of the festivity The nameless nightingales are singing the paeans We're being showered with Salams Eid Mubaraks are echoing The cheerful children are being over the moon Eid is marvellously nice and we sacrifice.
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Jul 20, 2021
Jul 20, 2021 at 9:21 AM UTC
EID MUBARAK To All Around The Universe!
MESSENGER Now at the Seventh Gate the seventh chief, Thy proper mother's son, I will announce, What fortune for this city, for himself, With curses he invoketh:--on the walls Ascending, heralded as king, to stand, With paeans for their capture; then with thee To fight, and either slaying near thee die, Or thee, who wronged him, chasing forth alive, Requite in kind his proper banishment. Such words he shouts, and calls upon the gods Who o'er his race preside and Fatherland, With gracious eye to look upon his prayers. A well-wrought buckler, newly forged, he bears, With twofold blazon riveted thereon, For there a woman leads, with sober mien, A mailed warrior, enchased in gold; Justice her style, and thus the legend speaks:-- 'This man I will restore, and he shall hold The city and his father's palace homes.' Such the devices of the hostile chiefs. 'Tis for thyself to choose whom thou wilt send; But never shalt thou blame my herald-words. To guide the rudder of the State be thine! ETEOCLES O heaven-demented race of Oedipus, My race, tear-fraught, detested of the gods! Alas, our father's curses now bear fruit. But it beseems not to lament or weep, Lest lamentations sadder still be born. For him, too truly Polyneikes named,-- What his device will work we soon shall know; Whether his braggart words, with madness fraught, Gold-blazoned on his shield, shall lead him back. Hath Justice communed with, or claimed him hers, Guided his deeds and thoughts, this might have been; But neither when he fled the darksome womb, Or in his childhood, or in youth's fair prime, Or when the hair thick gathered on his chin, Hath Justice communed with, or claimed him hers, Nor in this outrage on his Fatherland Deem I she now beside him deigns to stand. For Justice would in sooth belie her name, Did she with this all-daring man consort. In these regards confiding will I go, Myself will meet him. Who with better right? Brother to brother, chieftain against chief, Foeman to foe, I'll stand. Quick, bring my spear, My greaves, and armor, bulwark against stones.
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The Defiance Of Eteocles
MESSENGER Now at the Seventh Gate the seventh chief, Thy proper mother's son, I will announce, What fortune for this city, for himself, With curses he invoketh:--on the walls Ascending, heralded as king, to stand, With paeans for their capture; then with thee To fight, and either slaying near thee die, Or thee, who wronged him, chasing forth alive, Requite in kind his proper banishment. Such words he shouts, and calls upon the gods Who o'er his race preside and Fatherland, With gracious eye to look upon his prayers. A well-wrought buckler, newly forged, he bears, With twofold blazon riveted thereon, For there a woman leads, with sober mien, A mailed warrior, enchased in gold; Justice her style, and thus the legend speaks:-- 'This man I will restore, and he shall hold The city and his father's palace homes.' Such the devices of the hostile chiefs. 'Tis for thyself to choose whom thou wilt send; But never shalt thou blame my herald-words. To guide the rudder of the State be thine! ETEOCLES O heaven-demented race of Oedipus, My race, tear-fraught, detested of the gods! Alas, our father's curses now bear fruit. But it beseems not to lament or weep, Lest lamentations sadder still be born. For him, too truly Polyneikes named,-- What his device will work we soon shall know; Whether his braggart words, with madness fraught, Gold-blazoned on his shield, shall lead him back. Hath Justice communed with, or claimed him hers, Guided his deeds and thoughts, this might have been; But neither when he fled the darksome womb, Or in his childhood, or in youth's fair prime, Or when the hair thick gathered on his chin, Hath Justice communed with, or claimed him hers, Nor in this outrage on his Fatherland Deem I she now beside him deigns to stand. For Justice would in sooth belie her name, Did she with this all-daring man consort. In these regards confiding will I go, Myself will meet him. Who with better right? Brother to brother, chieftain against chief, Foeman to foe, I'll stand. Quick, bring my spear, My greaves, and armor, bulwark against stones.
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49
I.  The event wall: The quarters going coloured: Red, yellow, limpid azure, white unalloyed; at the center, a dark void lightening, radiating outward - never breaking the event-horizon. Reverent circumambulation by tradition, is done clockwise. II. Reading the tiles Is peace in expansion or contraction? Incarceration. Staring at the tiles. Acceptance or rebellion? Time doesn't tell. III. Prospect You are free now: making a mascot of you, we have set you free. While singing paeans to your greatness yet, we bemoan how coolies and ******* are be-spoiling our home. Rest in peace! We'll wait for Christ.
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Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 7:04 PM UTC
Mandela | Tribute
1. Eyes, eager fish, in deep Himalayan blue, splash and swim the ultramarine sky of the mind, gets color coordinated, in resonance wind from across the ranges, incessantly chant  guttural "Öm" gently spreads waves, that on ears, vibrate as music,divine our feet get liberated from mind's control,  the trek becomes us. 2. Eyes now, turn swifts, fly to the valley extending to horizon, teeming with flowers of every hue, profusion of orchids, rolling white clouds above,create *tantric patterns of grace, swirls, swoops,scoops, somersaults,the trek goes on. 3. Melting ice, fits well on the conical brown mountain tops, a white bodice, perfect cover for her lovely peaks, angular mounts gleam in the limitless avalanche of light, an impulse for benediction is palpable. 4. Simple folks of village, on the way side in flowing colorful dresses ***** tall poles festoons of bright colors, joyous prayer flags   flutter in wind proclaims festive spirit, they vigorously wave. 5. Now heart overwhelms, sings the paeans of a sky that changes it's face from blue to white and sometimes, a hue so bleak, deep gloom, on red brown earth, sun light prances around. 6. The grass bed then transforms quick, mind drinks the dense benediction peace brings that coils inside the soft blue waves, beating within and out 7. Himalayan blue has taken us in to it's embrace bird songs ring along the path of ancient sages, who went in to the forest abode to contemplate, never returned, became one with the hum of cosmos, they walk within us.
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Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 6:05 AM UTC
Himalayan blue
1. Eyes, eager fish, in deep Himalayan blue, splash and swim the ultramarine sky of the mind, gets color coordinated, in resonance wind from across the ranges, incessantly chant  guttural "Öm" gently spreads waves, that on ears, vibrate as music,divine our feet get liberated from mind's control,  the trek becomes us. 2. Eyes now, turn swifts, fly to the valley extending to horizon, teeming with flowers of every hue, profusion of orchids, rolling white clouds above,create *tantric patterns of grace, swirls, swoops,scoops, somersaults,the trek goes on. 3. Melting ice, fits well on the conical brown mountain tops, a white bodice, perfect cover for her lovely peaks, angular mounts gleam in the limitless avalanche of light, an impulse for benediction is palpable. 4. Simple folks of village, on the way side in flowing colorful dresses ***** tall poles festoons of bright colors, joyous prayer flags   flutter in wind proclaims festive spirit, they vigorously wave. 5. Now heart overwhelms, sings the paeans of a sky that changes it's face from blue to white and sometimes, a hue so bleak, deep gloom, on red brown earth, sun light prances around. 6. The grass bed then transforms quick, mind drinks the dense benediction peace brings that coils inside the soft blue waves, beating within and out 7. Himalayan blue has taken us in to it's embrace bird songs ring along the path of ancient sages, who went in to the forest abode to contemplate, never returned, became one with the hum of cosmos, they walk within us.
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1. Quite far you are,know not where, time and space remain fused, But, our love is still a wild flower, that takes new avatars Fully bloomed, defies sun and rain,other vagaries of seasons, This love is beyond the thrills of flesh, not even nocturnal togetherness. To plant a kiss of love on your lips,the wind will be my messenger, With a gentle caresses  you will be reminded how my lips felt on yours, In reciprocation, with your scent wind would envelop me on return. 2. Our love has faced many harsh climes, still we persisted, Fallen down and walked again limping, long distances, Our love has martyr's blood  running through veins,still brave, sings The song we loved, not together, a new light our love had found. Beyond the point of togetherness,love is indestructible, defying logic. 3. My flesh and blood would wither away,yours too have the same fate, Your beating heart and mine,one day will embrace stillness. Love has to live beyond the tunes of heart beats and our lives. In wind and water, earth and fire, all over the vastness of space, Millions would come together,in life, in death, sing love's paeans
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Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 9:01 AM UTC
Valentine's day promises beyond the limits of time
639 My Portion is Defeat—today— A paler luck than Victory— Less Paeans—fewer Bells— The Drums don’t follow Me—with tunes— Defeat—a somewhat slower—means— More Arduous than ***** ’Tis populous with Bone and stain— And Men too straight to stoop again—, And Piles of solid Moan— And Chips of Blank—in Boyish Eyes— And scraps of Prayer— And Death’s surprise, Stamped visible—in Stone— There’s somewhat prouder, over there— The Trumpets tell it to the Air— How different Victory To Him who has it—and the One Who to have had it, would have been Contender—to die—
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My Portion is Defeat—today
Blow, blow your trumpets till they crack, Ye little men of little souls! And bid them huddle at your back - Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on shoals! Fill all the air with hungry wails - "Reward us, ere we think or write! Without your Gold mere Knowledge fails To sate the swinish appetite!" And, where great Plato paced serene, Or Newton paused with wistful eye, Rush to the chace with hoofs unclean And Babel-clamour of the sty Be yours the pay: be theirs the praise: We will not rob them of their due, Nor vex the ghosts of other days By naming them along with you. They sought and found undying fame: They toiled not for reward nor thanks: Their cheeks are hot with honest shame For you, the modern mountebanks! Who preach of Justice - plead with tears That Love and Mercy should abound - While marking with complacent ears The moaning of some tortured hound: Who prate of Wisdom - nay, forbear, Lest Wisdom turn on you in wrath, Trampling, with heel that will not spare, The vermin that beset her path! Go, throng each other's drawing-rooms, Ye idols of a petty clique: Strut your brief hour in borrowed plumes, And make your penny-trumpets squeak. Deck your dull talk with pilfered shreds Of learning from a nobler time, And oil each other's little heads With mutual Flattery's golden slime: And when the topmost height ye gain, And stand in Glory's ether clear, And grasp the prize of all your pain - So many hundred pounds a year - Then let Fame's banner be unfurled! Sing Paeans for a victory won! Ye tapers, that would light the world, And cast a shadow on the Sun - Who still shall pour His rays sublime, One crystal flood, from East to West, When YE have burned your little time And feebly flickered into rest!
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Fame's Penny-Trumpet
Blow, blow your trumpets till they crack, Ye little men of little souls! And bid them huddle at your back - Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on shoals! Fill all the air with hungry wails - "Reward us, ere we think or write! Without your Gold mere Knowledge fails To sate the swinish appetite!" And, where great Plato paced serene, Or Newton paused with wistful eye, Rush to the chace with hoofs unclean And Babel-clamour of the sty Be yours the pay: be theirs the praise: We will not rob them of their due, Nor vex the ghosts of other days By naming them along with you. They sought and found undying fame: They toiled not for reward nor thanks: Their cheeks are hot with honest shame For you, the modern mountebanks! Who preach of Justice - plead with tears That Love and Mercy should abound - While marking with complacent ears The moaning of some tortured hound: Who prate of Wisdom - nay, forbear, Lest Wisdom turn on you in wrath, Trampling, with heel that will not spare, The vermin that beset her path! Go, throng each other's drawing-rooms, Ye idols of a petty clique: Strut your brief hour in borrowed plumes, And make your penny-trumpets squeak. Deck your dull talk with pilfered shreds Of learning from a nobler time, And oil each other's little heads With mutual Flattery's golden slime: And when the topmost height ye gain, And stand in Glory's ether clear, And grasp the prize of all your pain - So many hundred pounds a year - Then let Fame's banner be unfurled! Sing Paeans for a victory won! Ye tapers, that would light the world, And cast a shadow on the Sun - Who still shall pour His rays sublime, One crystal flood, from East to West, When YE have burned your little time And feebly flickered into rest!
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*A weaver of words in deep quiet reflects In his mind’s prism, many a thought deflects Within him the rainbow colours of passion rage He scripts songs of beauty and rhyme on page after page He has no magic, neither erudite nor clever But hungry souls, his poems avidly devour Stirring their hearts as wind on whispering leaves And each line, some alluring fancy weaves As from pen to paper his fancies flow In a lingua that has an unusual glow Though a great epic may not be born His songs move even hearts of flint n’ stone He sings the paeans of love and life Of men in cross roads of toil and strife He awakens dead worlds long forgotten Taking us to magic lands never trodden His songs have echoes of a heavenly rhapsody Drowning the Earth in flooding melody Fuelling hearts with thoughts one cannot name Spawning tempestuous passions one cannot tame*
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Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 5:49 AM UTC
An Inspired Poet
*A lone tree, in all its glory stands in the courtyard of my heart; evergreen all these years, proud of its songs heard as green waves nourished by the sun in my sky. Without that tree, I can't be a comely girl once came there  for an ecstatic  dance, then sat below its shade with a smile all through a day and night then in the courtyard of my heart she became a constant presence. The wind's tunes sung paeans to her, the verdant courtyard was filled with sun and songs; the tree's first spring it was. A long season of flowering followed, pink and white blossoms with heavenly scent was abundant all through the year on the tree's crown. Like a moving cloud, honeybees swarmed around singing songs of love, joy of communion fallowed by the pain of parting, the season of fragrant blooms soon came to an end and with that she too left, telling me that I'll be her true love always whatever happens to us, In that tree, the witness of our love she tied an invisible ribbon that bound us too tough to get loose, that embraced me whenever wind played with it, I and she were mere shells presence of love, alive in the precincts, of the tree that makes me alive, now and for ever.*
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Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
A lone tree stands in the courtyard of my heart
Each day dawning would gift me new eyes of wonder, right from my childhood a  friend, from this lone and lonely tree, I'd fervently hope for something different, rushing  to the window, I view that  elegance as the first auspicious thing to gaze at, as the custom suggests. After the morning light creates a pool above the verdant hills at the east, yet again a regular ritual, the tree is my magical yard stick by which I measure myself, a mysterious pact between us existed, deep in mind, I had felt only we know between us even if the breeze says, that aloud often. In her presence every thing becomes clear. As I watch the tree, as usual after the repetitions of long years of rain, shine and mist in between, what I saw that moment was different: On every branch seeking light, bristled flowery wonders songbirds, absent till the day before in droves sat all over the crown, in unison singing her paeans sonorously, purple rays of morning sun adorned each leaf, in colorful embrace. Wasn't it the moment I was yearning for? I stood filled with it's effulgence,crown to root the connection in an instance, becomes clear, there is no secrets left unsaid between  us any more-- In a flash , a golden window opens in inner chamber I feel free from, the bindings of all mundane desires as one rows the boat, the miseries of Samsara, the treacherous rapids, are left behind for ever. Isn't it enlightenment, at the moment seeking me unassumingly through my open windows?
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Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
The Bodhi tree just outside my window
Mermaid, the moon in my cloudy sky on dark nights, I treated you like the most precious gift from the Ameer, in my ****** life, though I  spent just one night with you and fell in love, I adore you more then my sweetheart of long years, I remained loyal to you, a dancing girl, more than to my dear wife, in lonely nights my heart pined for just you, nobody else I wept bitter tears hoping that you'd somehow hear my sobs, most hardened stone, your heart was, you never reacted I heaped praises on you, bought you expensive gifts lavished perfumes from the most exclusive perfumeries I waited in the most breathtaking oasis,days on with camels to take you far and be with you ditching all other loves of my life my heart on embers, I forgot how respected I was, what was my status, I became a lowly beggar of your love, in your presence my eyes lost their glow, got sunken in the cavities making me look pitiable, my dress was shredded in many places, my body became emaciated, I made a living only by singing paeans to women of easy virtue, just to buy as much things that pleases you,  make you jump up in joy, as soon as you see it. You drink the best wine, would wear the rarest of lingeries that peeped out of the muslin dress, I gifted you still my love, you weren't pleased you looked daggers at me without any regret, and asked to bring more gold and silver, it's the life of a slave I happily lived, I know so well I composed poems on voluptuous mistresses of men of royal linage, and collected pieces of gold and silver for my labor with that I made bejeweled  ornaments for your lovely body. Mermaid, you are a wonder, you walk on two legs, yet swim in deep waters with others, whom you don't even mention, I only dream of you and wait endlessly here, all the same contented.
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Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 11:10 AM UTC
Walking on the burning coal bed of love
Mermaid, the moon in my cloudy sky on dark nights, I treated you like the most precious gift from the Ameer, in my ****** life, though I  spent just one night with you and fell in love, I adore you more then my sweetheart of long years, I remained loyal to you, a dancing girl, more than to my dear wife, in lonely nights my heart pined for just you, nobody else I wept bitter tears hoping that you'd somehow hear my sobs, most hardened stone, your heart was, you never reacted I heaped praises on you, bought you expensive gifts lavished perfumes from the most exclusive perfumeries I waited in the most breathtaking oasis,days on with camels to take you far and be with you ditching all other loves of my life my heart on embers, I forgot how respected I was, what was my status, I became a lowly beggar of your love, in your presence my eyes lost their glow, got sunken in the cavities making me look pitiable, my dress was shredded in many places, my body became emaciated, I made a living only by singing paeans to women of easy virtue, just to buy as much things that pleases you,  make you jump up in joy, as soon as you see it. You drink the best wine, would wear the rarest of lingeries that peeped out of the muslin dress, I gifted you still my love, you weren't pleased you looked daggers at me without any regret, and asked to bring more gold and silver, it's the life of a slave I happily lived, I know so well I composed poems on voluptuous mistresses of men of royal linage, and collected pieces of gold and silver for my labor with that I made bejeweled  ornaments for your lovely body. Mermaid, you are a wonder, you walk on two legs, yet swim in deep waters with others, whom you don't even mention, I only dream of you and wait endlessly here, all the same contented.
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dreaming of drinking and grinding up smoke laid-back and laughing while having a **** summernight fireflies flash through my head while i doze through delirium snug in my bed with summer's lost loves and old friends gathered 'round we play and we love as the stars settle down the night sky above paints a portrait of grace and we lie on our backs and we soar into space we fly free, we are young, we have nothing to fear and our latest new love whispers red in our ear those words we've been waiting forever to hear and we are back on the earth with our dearest held near the world's just right now, in our favorite arms as fingers trace skin, weaving delicate charms to love and to lust in the grass under sky open wide to the world and to gods passing by we sing out our paeans to pleasure and loss we have yet our whole lives still left to exhaust and there's nothing for us in this world but our need each for the other in word and in deed we roll in the grass and we burn up our hearts 'til we're lost in each other and coming apart one in the other we dance in our sins and the juice of all summers drips sweet down our chins awake in my bed, i was them, now i'm me and that mythical summer i'm longing to see now forever is gone, but these visions remain of a dream of lost love sought forever in vain
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Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 4:24 PM UTC
Summer Smoke
He walks gracefully like the sun You can not help but marvel at the sight of the tufts dancing on his forehead His countenance pierces into your ***** and tickles your insides unmercifully The ebony stars in the highest kingdom long for his attention, with him, there is no compromise, either he faces your dirges aptly and revives the bits of what-so-called hope, or he does not look at you at all. No, you would not understand unless you see him, but beware the maze of his eyes, for I tell you.. My placid atoms rest like ember and every bit I have left of pride declares its obeisance. His outburst of loud laughter makes the goddess of beauty mutter out of envy, and the distorted harmonies of my own seek refuge in between his eyelids, like the diffused light rays run into the twilight zone. But listen, love out of all that you are, all the sacred paeans chanted by your name, all the symphonies that you dress in, the land within your ring, the silence you stand amidst, all the birds, the tunes, the melodies, all the chocking sounds and all the ominous insecurities, all the serene electric waves, all this bafflement I could not comprehend nor the seraphs would comprehend Out of all that you are all what you are is the annihilation of a bullet that leaves pansies where it's shot.
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 4:40 AM UTC
In Memoriam
I sang the the paeans of love, all night "you are such a romantic" my girl said, morning light, lingered, heard it, got elated, touched my brow tenderly and said: "You would make the waves and the shore glad, wind would waft your songs of love far and wide, humming leaves would adore you for this lilt, **love is the force that moves the world, each moment, sing, sing, let every one wake up and join forces."**
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Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 10:05 AM UTC
When one sings the paeans of love...
She never moans, weeps, sighs or sings his paeans, as one would expect, seeing her ardor at it's peak how could he still just be the receiver of her ****** mastery, without all of that intermittently let out loud, without shame! He feels compelled to look at her with a sense of thankful awe, she, no doubt, is in a plane far far above, any classification, just not a  participator or receiver , she is the moment itself, on it's shining wings, ascending  to the rarefied air, ethereal see, the look of self abandonment, on her intense  lovely face, that tells all, a flight defying limits of time, a leap yet again.
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 3:08 PM UTC
Leaping beyond the limits together, for a limited time
beyond words describe the fullness of you. your smiles, such sweetness; they pierce through my soul and etch to my heart an unquenchable longing. desire, and i fall for you; like a glacier racing to the tropical oceans my hardened heart is drawn to your rosy smiles slowly thawing by their warmth the lady night sings your paeans her mysterious voice haunting leaving such mysteries like a popular song whose title is unknown here i am yearning; each day staring and wondering, counting every moment to when I will ever know your name.
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Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
to an unknown woman
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, I would that I could walk again Amid your streets ablaze with life, And breathe the lively scents of spice. Jerusalem, Jerusalem, I would that I could hear again The sound of prayer in your mosques, The silent knolling of the bells, The clangour of patrolling knights Who solemnly in armour tread Your dusty paths and stony ways When sun ascends at break of day, And noises of returning feet To simple homes at fall of night, The closing of your iron gates Beneath the lustre of the moon. Jerusalem, Jerusalem, With blasphemies your cross is stained, With agonies of sacrifice, The long and sordid tale of blood, Of warring nations long embroiled In vain discord and endless strife; When God’s own name is used to slay The blameless children of His land. Jerusalem, Jerusalem, Long have you bathed in the rivers of tears, Amid the glistening seas of blood; Let the silence have its day, Embittered in its irony, And let the night of horror pass. Unspoken prayers will be heard. Jerusalem, Jerusalem, Now draw again your living breath, For in your defeat is your victory; And rally forth your strong to sing The joyous paeans of the dawn.
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Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 6:22 AM UTC
Jerusalem
From whom did I dare seize the fire Which casts light on truths to be sung to lyres The revelations are suffice to inspire Paeans to be sung around the pyres There was thunder in my brain When truth cantered inwards like a train Albion pointing to the warriors slain And to his wound, his immortal pain From the torch the truth doth bright exude A light that is a sort of useful food That renders visions in which sense brews That with divinest meaning woos Promethea a warrior magician I am also the strangest of physicians Bearing heavy the weight of contrition When faced with the plans of the worlds morticians I traverse my path to get my heroine On this troubled, but essential quest I begin There is nothing that we can win But we can redeem our conscience of the devil's sin But Devils' sham religiosity will not survive the ravage of time Earth's rustic children are the truly sublime To dare to strike them down in their prime Is the most heinous of mortal crimes O, my god, I bear to you The angel, the angel, spirit true Through my heart a warm breeze blew For having seen a soul so true Now you can ascend the stair And find your way to perfect care In the castles of the air And find peace in angels luscious blare
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Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 7:12 PM UTC
A Promethean Odyssey
It proved too difficult to bear the pain, Of Heart weathered by attack of lovelorn rain, Ferried to a destination cruel, That does the righteous mind offend, appall, Betwixt the loves I probing, searching go, Dreaming, rocking, swinging to and fro, Turning rocks, upending flowers for hallowed sight, Of Loves raw ruby adorned in beauteous light, But searching was the stupid thing to do, For it was inside my heart that gift from Love sweet grew, Who can call it treasure that one finds, It's indelible, an activity refined, That kindles in the fiery, impassioned mind, And sings borne aloft on zephyrs for kindred kind, Still, from him, with tears I fragile went, The hour of my passion duly spent, An admonished and assailed little scribe, Writing dutifully to gift the reading tribe, With tales and treatises of loves lament, Bereft of touch of gift that heaven sent, His paeans snared a poet, caught my boot, As I ran through fields of joy in gay cahoot, But he caught me only to slay, The prize, and hold her captive to the day, And smite her with a smear that she doth stalk, For him, angel sullied by lie he talks, Except it's true I chase the light that flies, After angels as they go singing in the skies, I only ever wanted to be bathed, In that aura, so after it I tread, But I gave up, tired of the chase, And his words suffice only to abase, And his empty crying of abuse, From the one that he saw fit to contuse, I thought I'd never frolic once again, Beleaguered of the whole ****** thing with men, But at the moment I had given up, Heaven sent loves chalice, luscious cup, Chased by suitor, ravenous as pup, Could hardly count my fortunes or my luck, Native of Love's consulate, embassy, Doth with earnest Heart appeal to me, And now contrition outweighed by joy and glee, And I want him the world to see, Whilst dangled on my proud, devoted arm, Enamoured of his beauty and his charm, Doth outweigh the devil's pomp and smarm, For which this sorry babe came to grievous harm, But now sweet entreaties I again refine, To feel and fathom love and soar divine.
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 6:51 PM UTC
Verses on a lovelorn rain
It proved too difficult to bear the pain, Of Heart weathered by attack of lovelorn rain, Ferried to a destination cruel, That does the righteous mind offend, appall, Betwixt the loves I probing, searching go, Dreaming, rocking, swinging to and fro, Turning rocks, upending flowers for hallowed sight, Of Loves raw ruby adorned in beauteous light, But searching was the stupid thing to do, For it was inside my heart that gift from Love sweet grew, Who can call it treasure that one finds, It's indelible, an activity refined, That kindles in the fiery, impassioned mind, And sings borne aloft on zephyrs for kindred kind, Still, from him, with tears I fragile went, The hour of my passion duly spent, An admonished and assailed little scribe, Writing dutifully to gift the reading tribe, With tales and treatises of loves lament, Bereft of touch of gift that heaven sent, His paeans snared a poet, caught my boot, As I ran through fields of joy in gay cahoot, But he caught me only to slay, The prize, and hold her captive to the day, And smite her with a smear that she doth stalk, For him, angel sullied by lie he talks, Except it's true I chase the light that flies, After angels as they go singing in the skies, I only ever wanted to be bathed, In that aura, so after it I tread, But I gave up, tired of the chase, And his words suffice only to abase, And his empty crying of abuse, From the one that he saw fit to contuse, I thought I'd never frolic once again, Beleaguered of the whole ****** thing with men, But at the moment I had given up, Heaven sent loves chalice, luscious cup, Chased by suitor, ravenous as pup, Could hardly count my fortunes or my luck, Native of Love's consulate, embassy, Doth with earnest Heart appeal to me, And now contrition outweighed by joy and glee, And I want him the world to see, Whilst dangled on my proud, devoted arm, Enamoured of his beauty and his charm, Doth outweigh the devil's pomp and smarm, For which this sorry babe came to grievous harm, But now sweet entreaties I again refine, To feel and fathom love and soar divine.
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So many paeans are sung Yet so often misunderstood Leaving the heart grieving Not nurtured with caring hands Grief and heartbreak are companions
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Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 2:30 AM UTC
Love
*Her white brick storefronts were bathed in March showers and Spring flowers Umbrellas depicted every shade of the rainbow , A gaggle of blackbirds sang paeans from the courthouse square , The bell tower struck the noon hour No one seemed to really care Appointments were being addressed , diners were serving lunch , traffic slowed to a capricious halt , rainy weather fraught with cold and visible breath Sunshine struggled for a moment , only to be buried in gray blankets* ...
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Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 8:33 PM UTC
A Description of the Square in Fayetteville , Ga. at Noon
Flowers, candies and things so dear, Poems and paeans, you won’t even care to hear; I used to yearn for you and sing you lullabies But now dear fickle, I’m bidding you good bye; Gone now, are the roses and chocolates and then again, sweet nothings and moonlit dates Forget about fairy tales and Cupid’s arrows **** those subtle lies, stupid Romeos borrow Another listless prose, as it may seem, No flowery thoughts, nor sugar and cream; Only stale and rancid caffeine boost, One thing my dear, for all of these, all is still not lost. No ifs and buts, and secrets left unspoken, Only heartaches untended and promises broken. Vague delusions of happy endings come to nothing; One kiss good-bye isn’t even worth remembering.
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Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 3:24 PM UTC
Another Listless Prose
I danced with worlds, mid clouds of dreams When I was young and you were sage Imagination weaved in streams Painted paeans for freedom's age Cross jungles, waterfalls of joy We skipped with wanton, childish glee Dreaming, rocking to a fro Loving seismically Till the man shot me My mortal carapace decayed Became nature again Back in the soul's truest abade Where minds are one and zen And how did you go on and cope Me dear, gone from your den Offensive they rank rude intrude Upon the Peace we found my friend Because the man shot me I can't explain well but in time My energy gestate Became presence celestial All light and love, no weight The center of my heart lived on In a bonny babe anew Born in 1991 When Berlin's freedom grew No shots can stop me She a lover drift in dream A playmate of cherubs Who drift in streams upon a beam Aura arrests and grabs Year to year she grew afraid Doth yet perceive the cynic's trade And will for Love insatiate No shot stopped her living like me She grew a heart comely and plump Like the marrow Thoreau craved As through the wilds of life she tramps Not wont to behave Bears Love aloft, cherubic lamp Through her the passion rave Hearts for heroes; guns for knaves
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Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC
Dear Yoko
I remembered all sorts of words he confided to me, chanted paeans and rhapsodies lingered from reality. I captured bits of tormented dreams, as I felt his presence here with me. His grin and glare were torture. His words were knives thrusted too deep. His sweet lullabies were bitter eulogies to mourn. I remembered, the way I casted a glimpse of him, as he took steps away from me, it was the end of apathy. I glanced at how the years have been, as I burried the odds and ends of him. My tears were dry of despair. My eyes were drowned in ecstasy, My lips curved with glee. At last, I am free.
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Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC
Freed
Curled up, bright yellow petals glinting like glistering metals Trees that rise and bow, silent now Cars rushing into the dark, crushing a slow-moving lark, Cats curled up before a fire ignoring the nearby church choir Singing melodious paeans to god before a stature soaked in blood. A rising bright silver moon floating across the sky too soon Howling dog and wolf scampering across each shadowed roof In that, the foulest night of the year pumped-up with fear, With sepulchral screams hammering the brain, the sane and insane Shackled to the earth before, not after, death.
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Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 12:18 PM UTC
CURLING