"sacrosanct" poems
I could show you such things as you never have seen
But I'd have to go back on my oath
An oath I never made, but which
Stuck with me, the most sacred of things
So sacrosanct that even to say the words of the oath itself
Would be to break it.
Rarely is holiness so raw
Yet when that place is found
When the moon descends
And the water rises
Something shifts: and the veil is slightly lifted
But only slightly, for
Personne ne peut enlever la voile d'Isis
Even if we know how
Especially if we know how
Yet sometimes, gods willing,
It thins itself slightly
But only slightly, and
We catch a glimpse of the way things really are:
The way things could be.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 11:29 AM UTC
In the divet between mountains
Resides a wooden cabin – ostensibly an amalgamation of the scape
Adroitly - I - quondam female warrior flit
Down massive (ancient) hand-laid, hand-cut carved stone steps
Bounding from contingent step onto the dense pad of turned soil
Tacit compliance between gravity and soil holds footprints bound
A compressed deflating crescendo as pace ignites with bounds
Cadences of protuberant wildflowers and grasses erupt from swollen terra
A winsome chromatic menagerie, dispersed in ecstatic fistfuls
A venerably ancient ritual
My nascent clandestine vocation
Personally meted out - a beatification for my provisional sanctuary
Along glacier-fed stream
Lissome fingers shadow inert stalks –plucking dormant beginnings from their desiccated ligaments
I am austere and unadorned save for a festoon of pyrite flecks trailing my semblance
Residual gilding from my ante-meridian swim taken after requisite gathering of wild blackberries, goose berries, and rhubarb along oft-tamped path
The sun, nestling into its requisite apex endorsed my completion
I reclined into the hassock of soil, feeling the elements settle about with an embossment of my form
Imposing verdure arched subtly as compressed soil beckoned hyperbolic flux
As I lay within the basilica of opulent living columns replete with comestible bounty
Lingering dew honed inflections of sacrosanct petrichor in unison with piquant clover
Wild purple clover buds saccharinely tinted and inundated nestled nerves in mine cribriform plate
Birds pitched and galloped through the frond tips and beyond in the lapis expanse
Frequently snatching damselfly’s and assemblages of midges from their ephemeral drift
Auspicious rays transcended stippled diaphanous gravid clouds
Light inundated ether entered humbly into the cathedral oculus
Pyrite speckled terrain beneath, and my bare gilded form above
Cast a refracted aura about my sanctuary
Precipitously the elusive vaporous embankment distended further
Ashen atmospheric correspondence inaugurated liquescent sustenance to my mountain abode
And I -
Lingered beneath the descending gobbets, curls furled in a puddle
Fresh topsoil cupping my corporal topographic contours
Pressing blackberries into my mouth between smiles
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
The picturesque glow from the full moon enkindles youthful swooning and yearning; orotund voices rising above prattle conversation yield celestial affirmations in conjunction with analogous, supernal relations
Full acceptance of the shimmering stars sacrosanct messages coruscating through the sky - fulsome oracular expressions instilling mesmerizing past-life recollections.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 10:56 AM UTC
Rain dancers
Children bring forth
The deluge
Joyous and ****
Boogie away the heat of our Cebu
Wash away the grime
The worries of Times
The sufferings
Of war, in Mindanao, in you...
Dance oh Children
Of Sulu seas
Blissful droplets
Mini Filipinos me
Though the air force jets
Thunder overhead
Weep not lil ones
They are further dead & gone
And now in these drops of sky
We drank
Bathed in the Life
Which we give thanks
So, bring forth
All earthly deluge
We babes of Cebu
Shower
In the sacrosanct
Blossom in the truth.
(this is my Philippines)
I am You.
Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 4:55 AM UTC
*Elemental Metamorphosis & Transcendental Milestones,
Sempiternal Origamis Of Her Temperamental Clones,
Spiraling Perpetuities & Her Sacrosanct Fortitude,
Procreating Tipsy Ruptures In Her Permeating Solitude,
Perplexed Momentum & Her Outlandish Constellations,
Nuclear Decay Of Her Masked Radiations,
Verbal Shadows & Her Tranquil Ascendance,
Encasing Her Tears In Liquefied Transcendence,
Yearning Oddities & Entropic Oceans,
Vitalizing Inexorable Emotions Into Phosphorescent Potions,
An Hourglass Existence Of Her Fabricated Virility,
Dwelling In Quantum Ascents Of Ardent Agility,
Silver Ghosts Of Her Prismatic Abyss,
Convicting Glass Houses In Her Ecstatic Bliss,
Telepathic Shades & Hollow Palisades,
Detrimental Novelists On Uncharted Crusades,
Pernicious Scars In Her Profound Gaze,
Erupting Genesis Inside Her Dimensional Maze,
Perplexed Periphery & Digital Fictions,
Annexed By Her Hourglass Depictions,
Breakdown Sanity & Her Concealed Screams,
Lifelike Dewdrops In Her Visionary Dreams,
Satellite Searchlights & Love//Less Progenic Mutation,
Paralyzed Sunlight Sparking Genetic Alteration,
Monochromatic Streams & Cinematic Realms,
Static Screams Of Her Toxic Schemes.
- 05:43 AM -*
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 11:18 PM UTC
Oh Honored,
and Everything shall be done
so still as the rising sun
an enmity of good and evil
a creole out place for all ages
and lo his nights are sacrosanct than days
yet thee remained Avant
than ever more so could change
thus, change forge to my heart
like rebels facing an empyrean, a tragic dream
As their ethereal mind queries;
Could Silence be heard?
Could Uproar be held?
Could Tranquility be forever still?
Could A Wayward be in place evermore?
A life so query,
a mind so wild as spirit so free
for youth is ****** to be astray
and still continues to find its way
Yet in its Maker thee will know...
what lies beyond the depths of shallow springs
what message can be read in papers of blank
and what eyes can see when the world is blind
Am I affront to pry?
when I query for once was mine....
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 12:27 PM UTC
i.
Brandon and Jane
One heart pumping their blood;
Soulmates, eternal love.
ii.
Brandon and Jane
Names written on alleyway wall's;
Undiscovered by man,
Treasure's of God.
iii.
Brandon and Jane
Revealed for all to seeith;
Manifested to the naked eye
To her I seek to pleaseth.
iv.
Brandon and Jane
Together interconnected glow;
Ourn flower garden is planted
We art the growers of touching soul's.
v.
Brandon and Jane
Mine flesh is her flesh, as tis her's is mine.
Mine pain is her pain, as tis her's is mine.
Mine name is her name
Filipino divine.
A kingdom with an empress
Jane sardua, lady of time.
vi.
Brandon and Jane
Coalesced in sacrosanct lullaby's;
As newborn infant's, and before the age
Of man we were to find. To find one another
In a moment's blinking eye, I kneweth her, tis
She kneweth me, I searched the beaches and thus
The sea's, as I landed in Clarin, Philippines;
vii.
Brandon and Jane
Forever to be,
Resplendent
Symphony's
Of soulmate
Seeds. Together
Forever
scintilla
Serene.
©Brandon Cory Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication ( Filipino rose) poetry
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 10:03 AM UTC
Pardie, mine is thine, parfay in
Mine siesta; I hadst a sweven of
Tender refine. We art perantique
To the temporal, sacrosanct we
Art, divinity's temple's. Patration
Hath been acknowledged, by the
Guardian's of the extrasolar, as doth
Me and thine beauty amour', lieth in
The eye's of ourn beholder.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 9:28 PM UTC
***Our souls are enfettered
By an Inexorable Penance,
Sorrows & Lamentations:***
In pining for
The Light of Transmutation
The Adamantine Wings
Of Stalwart Bahamut
Unburdened our etherealized hearts.
(Speaking for the future)
Spira has lost its
Yoke of Communion
To this Cimmerian Millennium.
Redemption’s Revelation:
Aeonic sin hath reigned
Under the Cathedral of Deception
Forged by the taught tongues
**Of Yevon;
Despotic Lunae
Eclipsed the light
Of a forlorn sky,
Divine Pantheon
For
Numen of Sol.**
Cast a
Stygian Shadow of Sanctimonious Suffering for Souls.
Seems eternal; truly, ephemeral.
**For,
the Hearts of nations
Are
Sacrosanct Luminaries.**
Our tears
Have been shed,
Our vanities
Indemnified.
**Skies shall bleed Empyrean Bliss
And
The Opus of Life
Shall cleanse
This wearied Spira of Pernicious Sin.**
(Amen.)***
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 5:47 AM UTC
It’s silly to me now
The time I spent training myself
To adorn in ways they asked of me, ways
That seemed inarguable and sacrosanct, yet
The voice rose from no lone nor supreme source.
It is partly my wrong to have placed those
Fashionable tones in such an order
On my plate and to have eaten them,
Wholeheartedly expectant of nourishment.
Those infectious suggestions of
Curled strands and trimmed outlines,
Distilled traits and clothing bait,
Burned skin kept thin and a curtain
To cover what is truly mine, tucked behind
A clear line in dim light –
These witless insistings
Were never uttered from my bones.
My flesh came forth without a list
Of how I could best fit it, only drove
Life into limbs I was
Already fitted in.
Those demands never sparked
A fire inside my furnace, only
Stole from that which keeps me burning
For true things and tiny, unknown springs.
From inside, I hear more beautiful voices
That sigh and sing forms into being from
Places of unabashed inspiration –
They are the humming variety of
The sound that takes place in me
Which wells and swells and tells me
Stories of all it finds peaceful and lovely
Without and within me.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 12:21 PM UTC
mystical conversation
intrusion on the convenant
between believer and air
impregnated by unwavering faith
o nata lux de lumine
a pattern that commands
with no physical body
but that of notes
fed by black blood
o nata lux de lumine
in exultation revered
in sacrosanct fear
assured, drawing near
eternally trapped in song
this light born of light
Dec 3, 2010
Dec 3, 2010 at 4:32 PM UTC
My country does not believe in equality.
It buys excuses for elitism and misogyny.
It covers up its greed and its brutality
And makes up ugly labels for decency.
My country sings its songs about freedom
But often denies it to those who need some.
It celebrates our heritage with beer and ***
And marches to the beat of a fascist drum.
My country was founded by nice words
Some of the finest man has ever heard.
Then shows the intelligence of a cattle herd;
And the social conscience of rotted bean curd.
My country labors under some illusions
That contribute to a national delusion
That fame will ultimately cure all contusions
And eradicate the effects of collusion.
My country thinks pretty people are sacrosanct
So, they let the beautiful load up their piggy bank.
We see reverence for the most egregious crank,
And have many of our countrymen to thank.
My country isn’t very good at followup.
It adopted the behavior of an untrained pup.
As long as it has its favorite pablum to sup
It will drink any poison that’s in their cup.
My country is this way, has been for too long
And if you disagree with the words of my song
Write your own treatise to try to prove me wrong.
For now I will keep on banging this protest gong.
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 4:24 PM UTC
He’s trick, like enrapturing
Wherein lies the paradox of his pantheism parapet’s paragon
Extraversion embezzlements and euthanasia extortions
Diction’s enunciation echoes of opaque opulence
Its redolence a savory waft
The evolution of psychic clarity’s élan vital
Bizarre dichotomous augur the singer’s aural austerity
Gypsy Queen, his guitar’s moniker, romanced aimed intention
Elaborate elliptical empathy endeavors for posterity’s predication
Pandemically phatic propriety venerations
Their apex crux axis beyond finite solution
Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma
Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix
The individual must remain sacrosanct
Traipsing through the fallow furrows of assimilation’s xenobiotic barratry
Like capillaries' capricious and intravenous intrepid
Incalculably sensual beyond emotion’s expression
Impetus intrigue's intuitional verve
Ethology’s entelechy, theosophy’s theophany
Zoomorphic zoolatry's social contiguities
Futurity's corporeally preternatural fatidic
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 7:13 AM UTC
Enveloped with pine-
Stretched across statelines:
Beauteous blue upon envious emerald
Pooled amongst royal white mountains
Adorned with grey jewels of centuries
Emitting sweet, earthy aroma
She caresses the land.
Mother to lakes hidden by her red fir,
Provider to the fiery yellow cress
Hydrant for all animals alike.
M(ama) Rose keeps a chary eye
on her joint creation:
The provider, the mother,
The revered, grandiose puddle
is threatened by scarcity.
The royal white mountains,
Remain royal- but lack frost,
And thus the water retreats
Shriveling back 13 feet from shoreline
This once sacrosanct lake---
Devastated.
Keep Tahoe Blue?
Keep Tahoe Wet.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
Defunct delightful fruits noir
The sacrosanct pheromone of death
Garnishing Hells credence table
Quailled hem and haw sate
Ilk a slew of paper tigers
With a keen prosaic veneer
Consuming vittle of Gaia
Ravishing ichor like dancing water
Spurning a chimerical somatic
Catharsis as creaking doors hang
The longest watching satorial
Flowers wilt nascent by
Tactiturn vespers.
ELEETE J MUIR.
Jun 19, 2012
Jun 19, 2012 at 4:22 AM UTC
The gracile figurine
bubblewraped in warmth:: protected
She is smoke in a midnight room
Defying
any fingerprints::: vulnerability, for her, a vile, repressive word
oh that visage
oh obfuscated view... sacrosanct shadow in the dark
Her
Lenticular frames
Sit wide-eyed, unwatered and
::unmoved::
cold victory of another day.
another inward, in-word retreat.
for her braille heart untouched
still she fears punctuation
Endings.
I guess for her it’s the thought of losing
hope
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 1:26 AM UTC
October fifth, the night begets
Midnight hallways of uncertain threat
A whooshing of trees marks ambiguity
The cold hovering beneath my very feet
Sacrosanct creatures in Epiphanius state
With dust in shelves and candles that melt
A frightening woe nigh unsaid nor upheld
Twas an airy voice lurking the dark
Such lush but nothing of any spark
The floors were tilted and web's shifted
Fixated minds suddenly felt desolated
With all the corners of every dorm
She yearns something, finding her prose
Crossing borders, ruffling like a storm
The woeing wind woes as she goes
Nothing to keep, nothing to show
Her runic is fading, losing its tone
It never stopped till morning and all is gone
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 12:31 AM UTC
Collaboration's implicit excitations explicate expectations
Unity's myriad augurs geomancy's indications
Demagoguery's ostensibly intuitive impetus coordinations
Extravagantly exorbitant panaceas appreciate exaggerations
Prolifically profuse profundity's autonomous gestations
Empirically emulate epistemology's exogamous creations
Intrigue's imperative promulgation's quantum fecundations
Fealty's ephemeral enunciation's explicit complications
Hypercritically exponential prophylaxis protocol's interpretations
Sacrosanct unary's preternatural predilection's extrications
Eventuation's evocative illuminism avant garde's ostentations
Corrupt costume counselor's indicative explications
Assimilation's synthetic synthesis' ascensional implications
Ominous phenomenon portrayal detinue's integrations
Umbrage ultraism's penumbral platitude's objectifications
Futurity's spontaneous flamboyance's apotropaic expiations
Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 7:53 PM UTC
Jesus answered them, Is it not written in your law, I said, Ye are gods? John 10:34
Stretch out a hand
and catch a bead of blood
from the beheaded head of St. Valentine.
Smear the sacrosanct crimson
on both lip and command
“let there be love” upon every sunset.
Treat every new face as a blank canvas
and stroke a kiss with a brush of your lips.
Leave the mark of love
upon as many hearts
and soon the world will see
and follow the light. This power is in us
for we are gods without a paradise.
Jan 28, 2012
Jan 28, 2012 at 4:07 PM UTC
the relationship held sacrosanct
form an identity's disjecta membra
a confluence of fallacies made anthropomorphic
body diminshed by nervous exhaustion
mind abandoned to melancholy obsession
scattered hapharzadly in front of those
whom had once offered solicitude
filled by yearning to be stoic, saturnine, sangfroid
passsing glances, chance encounters
aren't caustic to the indifferent
incondite hopes nurtured by solitude
clinging to the idea that all is bitingly internicine
misplaced in the droors of time
Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 4:17 AM UTC
I’ve strode this road of war and love
And born it’s bile and spleen,
I’ve wept at death and laughed at birth
But nowhere have I seen,
A sweeter place to live and die,
To quest for things supreme,
Than to forge these days of hard forays
In the Land of In Between.
Candied apples hang from boughs
Like jewels bequeathed by Queen
And silver sounds of bubbling brook
Cascade to tumbling stream,
Parakeets in vivid hue
Fly by with shreeking scream
In forest’s green majestic light
In the Land of In Between.
Paint no man black or vivid white
Whilst points of view be gleaned
With race and politics ignored
Then manifest, obscene.
Where labour be a man’s reward
And filthy lucre screened
As noxious be a spider bite
In this Land of In Between.
Where hate be strangled to the end
Then with a keen blade ,sheened,
Be put to death with avarice
No guilt or guile redeemed.
Leaving in the pristine wake
A countryside so clean
That God be queuing up to live
In this Land of In Between.
All ****** love be sacrosanct
And soft endearments seemed
As normal as the light of night
When by the moon dust preened.
And that laughter be our currency
Affection always seen
As bonding in fraternity
At the Land of In Between.
M.
Foxglove, Taranaki NZ.
30 January 2016
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 6:33 PM UTC
Sara L. Russell, 30th November 2015, 17:00pm
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Let the man and the woman be free to choose one another in marriage;
For therein lieth domestic accord.
Let the woman be free to obey the man solely out of love,
only because he deserveth her love through his loving kindness,
therefore she loveth him above all others (with the exception of God).
The man must, in turn, deserve her love; and if he does not, by reason of cruetly,
the woman may flee, with God's blessing, never to return.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
Let the man and the woman live and work together in equality;
For woman is the greatest ally of man.
Let them pray together at the holy temples of the Lord our God,
kneeling side by side in devotional acts of love and worship.
There is no room for oppression in the House of the Lord;
no flowers can bloom in a garden of burning thorns.
Be gentle with one another; or else incur the maelstrom of God's holy wrath.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
Mark this well, brethren; cut not the fragile Flower of Life.
A woman's body is sacrosanct unto herself and unto God;
therefore mutilate her at your peril, for the Flower of Life
is also the Flower of Love. Herein is a font of ultimate power and purity.
No man can exist without the prior existence of woman,
for out of the body of woman cometh the infancy of man.
Whosoever causeth harm to this bloom shall be punished by God.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
Let the men and women of the world be free to express true love and desire,
For out of desire cometh the sweetest songs and most joyous of dreams.
Bring forth thy children in the blessed spirit of love and gentleness.
Be not warlike in your dealings with outsiders; negotiate the ways of
free trading through cooperation and sharing.
There is enough land, grain and livestock for everyone.
Be tolerant and fair; let tolerance guide the destiny of mankind.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
Messiahs and martyrs
And saviors
And saints
Sacrosanct
Sanctimonious
False idol feints
Behind gates,
Palace walls
Fortified in a lie
An elaborate,
Enduring
Mythos we contrive
And apply
To the lives
Of misguided lost souls
Filling holes
With the answers
Of what never knows
How to be of this world
Without more to assign
What is so picture perfectly
Flawed by design
Intertwined with
The years we spend
Spacing in time
Agonizingly trying
To find
Our own kind
Out among the expanse
Starry satellite trance
Higher intellects seek
And destroy
To advance
The agenda, to claim
A new age
Under orders
Anointed upon
The consent
Of the heaven-sent
Nuclear bomb
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 9:31 AM UTC
He’s trick, like enrapturing
Wherein lies the paradox of his pantheism parapet’s paragon
Extraversion embezzlements and euthanasia extortions
Embark embargo extraditions
Diction’s enunciation echoes of opaque opulence
Its redolence a savory waft
The evolution of psychic clarity’s id conclusions
Bizarre dichotomous augur the singer’s aural austerity
Gypsy Queen, his guitar’s moniker, romanced aimed intention
Elaborate elliptical empathy endeavors for posterity’s predication
Pandemically phatic propriety venerations
Their apex crux axis beyond finite solution
Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma
Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix's vertex vortex
The individual must remain sacrosanct
Traipsing through the fallow furrows of assimilation’s synthetic synthesis
Like capillaries' capricious and intravenous intrepid
Incalculably sensual beyond emotion’s expression
Impetus intrigue's intuitional verve
Ethology’s entelechy, theosophy’s theophany
Zoomorphic zoolatry's social contiguities
Futurity's corporeally preternatural fatidic
Elan-vital's apotropaic apotheosis
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 3:20 AM UTC
She began by saying,
Will you sacrifice your own life for me ?
Let me get under your skin,
Make you bleed for the thrill of it,
Make your soul tilt when its tinted in the mist of the poker faces,
Can you bleed for the fun of it ?,
Bleed for the vanity ?,
Bleed for the chains ?
Bleed for the accolades ?,
Bleed for the trends ?,
Bleed for the false gods and goddesses ?,
Bleed for this purposeless system i have constructed ?,
My response to her was “I cant do that”,
The sacrosanct thoughts bleed from the unseen presence,
The Pure presence left my flesh numb and detached from the odds of death,
The Stings of death in the hand of the king of kings,
The king brings life once I surrender my life,
The fountain of glory springs up and floods my spirit well,
The fountain floods the wicked heart that fails,
Revive the presence once lost,
The heart is ready to set sail within the divine presences,
Can a man see the ugliness wrapped around his own heart ?
I have seen young men bleed viciously for the chaos from the heart,
Once again I ask myself ‘Should I take part’ ?
The Consciousness spark the imagery of the consequence ,
Untold stories of a pure unseen kingdom been left behind,
forgotten for the kingdom of Babylon,
Look closely underneath this bleeding sun,
Religious men and secular men bleed for that day when the system becomes one,
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 9:59 AM UTC