"sanctifying" poems
593
I think I was enchanted
When first a sombre Girl—
I read that Foreign Lady—
The Dark—felt beautiful—
And whether it was noon at night—
Or only Heaven—at Noon—
For very Lunacy of Light
I had not power to tell—
The Bees—became as Butterflies—
The Butterflies—as Swans—
Approached—and spurned the narrow Grass—
And just the meanest Tunes
That Nature murmured to herself
To keep herself in Cheer—
I took for Giants—practising
Titanic Opera—
The Days—to Mighty Metres stept—
The Homeliest—adorned
As if unto a Jubilee
’Twere suddenly confirmed—
I could not have defined the change—
Conversion of the Mind
Like Sanctifying in the Soul—
Is witnessed—not explained—
’Twas a Divine Insanity—
The Danger to be Sane
Should I again experience—
’Tis Antidote to turn—
To Tomes of solid Witchcraft—
Magicians be asleep—
But Magic—hath an Element
Like Deity—to keep—
40.2k
As night hath stars, more rare than ships
In ocean, faint from pole to pole,
So all the wonder of her lips
Hints her innavigable soul.
Such lights she gives as guide my bark;
But I am swallowed in the swell
Of her heart's ocean, sagely dark,
That holds my heaven and holds my hell.
In her I live, a mote minute
Dancing a moment in the sun:
In her I die, a sterile shoot
Of nightshade in oblivion.
In her my elf dissolves, a grain
Of salt cast careless in the sea;
My passion purifies my pain
To peace past personality.
Love of my life, God grant the years
Confirm the chrism - rose to rood!
Anointing loves, asperging tears
In sanctifying solitude!
Man is so infinitely small
In all these stars, determinate.
Maker and moulder of them all,
Man is so infinitely great!
14.3k
XXXVIII
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;
And ever since, it grew more clean and white,
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its ‘Oh, list,’
When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst
I could not wear here, plainer to my sight,
Than that first kiss. The second passed in height
The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,
Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed!
That was the chrism of love, which love’s own crown,
With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.
The third upon my lips was folded down
In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,
I have been proud and said, ‘My love, my own.’
2.9k
Let the a.n.t.s sleep
Warm and dry blankets
Let the victories of the future brace you
Body molesting wind demons
false but True
Cloak yourself in my laughter
Grab reality and pull a book out of your spleen,
with a Dim mak to sentence your fears to death.
The first page is eternity,
Stay within the pleasure, bathe in it,
Body hyper aware, unclouded vision
Disrobe, and bathe in it
Open the door and begin
It is Unjust not to
Press Play.....
It will all rush forward, and you will breath freely.
Trumpeted like the arrival of an avatar of the love goddess.
Cool cheeks, unmarked by tear tracks..
Built back up with the love you feared had departed.
I'm pitiful alone.
It is emotions prerogative to make its opinion known.
These feelings cannot be ignored.
Doing so makes things worse.
Let confidence be always with you
For all time
Unending
Everyday
All day long
You can honestly talk to me.
Trivial questions.
Something burdening your breast.
I can make you feel better, if only for a handfull of minutes.
You'll float away, but later crash on heavy thought.
However....
You know
For several reasons
The outcome is always the same
Mind games are involuntary muscle spasms,
it is an affliction of chaos tourettes, inherited from a goblin ancestor,
Straighten your shoulders, I am here to reassure you,
Every day it will get lighter
The stress will be less, the panic will simmer
The message is salvation, in acceptance of the depth of the love felt for you.
I am here to listem.
Stop being kicked around by your thoughts.
Feel instead, gliding into a gathering of like minds.
I dare not say the full extent of what I know, and what I feel is transparent.
It grants me sanity
The compulsion to sing
Satisfying smashed hearts
Feeding your lips
Sanctifying your suffering into submission
Fulfilling a proper apology for the perversions.
You have won the war.
Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 3:17 PM UTC
I feel so alone in a world that loves to **** itself,
As I need a gun, to truly feel like I belong;- filling
Up its cold chamber holes, in this revolving world
Six monumental shots, ready to **** myself…
__Bullet 1:__ the war on drugs, is just a war with ourselves
__Bullet 2:__ the war for land, is just a war with the world
__Bullet 3:__ the war for peace, is a war in which death
will only be the truest peace we’ll know
__Bullet 4:__ the war for survival, is a war of stealing
and killing, for that desperate dollar
__Bullet 5:__ the war of the flesh, is a war between sanctifying
the temple, or satisfying myself in lust’s power
__Bullet 6:__ the war of identity, is a war of fighting against
all the alleged titles- _in order to find my true self_
Jul 25, 2024
Jul 25, 2024 at 6:48 AM UTC
#*One thinks on Calvin heav’n’s own spirit fell;
Another deems him instrument of hell;
If Calvin feel heav’n’s blessing, or its rod,
This cries there is, and that, there is no God.*
Alexander Pope
A transcendental tulip
is blooming in my garden.
Before the petals wither,
before affections harden,
I pray it may diffuse its scent –
so gloriously redolent.
Encouraging the faithful,
it blooms in any weather.
In sunshine or in shadow;
let us, elect, together,
enjoy its sanctifying smell
While warning careless souls of hell.
In Him we stroke the petal
That proves our own depravity
The flower that declares our heart
apart from Christ, a cavity
where only evil may be found
by One who dares our depths to sound.
The second petal beckons
and sings of pure election;
where souls are freely chosen
by God’s divine selection.
(As yet not offered to the masses –
Unto whom His wrath now passes).
Thirdly shines the Limit
of Christ in His atonement:
benefits are thus withheld
in God’s eternal moment.
So let the worldling rant and bluster;
Raging will not dim the luster…
Fourth: shall the fallen Adam
hold out against omniscience?
Will puny human being
Prevail in disobedience?
The Lord on high will hound you down –
His grace to place a golden crown.
Point five unfurls its essence;
as saints arise, and striving
shake off the dust and onward march –
though never quite arriving;
while God empowers to go the distance
Persevering with insistence.
Behold in full the blossom!
In Grace it shines, reflecting;
delighting in God’s wisdom,
the lead to gold perfecting;
Magnanimous floral alchemy
bestowing at last true liberty.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC
we weaklings
were weapons of warmth,
lulling, sanctifying,
losing ourselves in orbit,
in constellations of opticals,
and oh, how the voices would
rise from below us,
and my, how the fires would
fall all around us,
but it was always you and me,
wrapping ourselves in freedom,
speaking naught of love,
only acceptance in hopelessness,
and gratefulness at each others'
words and actualized souls.
Oct 14, 2010
Oct 14, 2010 at 12:49 PM UTC
'Tis my happiness below
Not to live without the cross,
But the Saviour's power to know,
Sanctifying every loss;
Trials must and will befall;
But with humble faith to see
Love inscribed upon them all,
This is happiness to me.
God in Israel sows the seeds
Of affliction, pain, and toil;
These spring up and choke the weeds
Which would else o'erspread the soil:
Trials make the promise sweet,
Trials give new life to prayer;
Trials bring me to His feet,
Lay me low, and keep me there.
Did I meet no trials here,
No chastisement by the way,
Might I not with reason fear
I should prove a castaway?
******** may escape the rod,
Sunk in earthly vain delight;
But the true-born child of God
Must not -- would not, if he might.
1.3k
Gethsemane
Butterflies, fawns, the quiet trickle of a nearby stream.
Apostles argue.
Again
Some want pizza
Others teriyaki
A few want pastrami from Moshe's Deli in Nazareth
"Brothers. Time is short," said Jesus quietly,
"Let us not argue. I have brought a potato. Let us share."
The Apostles look at each other in dismay.
A potato?
What is this another f*cking parable?
They were hungry and impatient.
"Look JC," said Simon
"You're the Messiah and all, but we were hoping for something a little
more substantial."
"I bid you peace, Brother," said Jesus, covering the potato with a plain cloth.
He began the customary blessing for this type of food.
The Apostles bowed their heads respectfully.
One by one they closed their eyes in prayer
Sanctifying the simple meal that was before them.
Minutes passed
Stomachs growled
Apostles began to fidget.
Without warning Jesus shouted,
"Chabada Kedavra,"
and lifted the cloth, revealing a whole roasted chicken beneath.
The Apostles clapped their hands in delight at Jesus' latest miracle.
"Faith feeds us in many ways," said Jesus.
"Amen," said the Apostles in unison....
Completely missing
The KFC bag
That Jesus was sliding
under the table
with his sandaled foot.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
The tree was split
By the power of an unknown spear.
That night, the orange moon flared;
The blinking eyes of night
Shadowed the forest,
Following him.
What authority clapped the thunderous air
With flailing branches,
Demanding service, obedience, fear.
The simplicities of home and fire
Offered up assurance and warmth.
He returned to think on it;
To resolve questions with more questions
Before sanctifying the place of wrath.
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 7:46 PM UTC
Christmas reminds me of the Historic cross
And the irrepairable loss and the inhuman laws
Jesus has wanted to serve his people
And has tried to protect them like his own pupil
Man is an evil by his very nature
He can’t understand Jesus’ ethical stature
And is ignorant of his benevolent feature
Undoubtedly the meanest creature
He has tried to crucify God
It is an inexcusable fraud
Can any human **** the divine Lord?
I believe Jesus is our eternal bard
for human good He has shed his holy blood
Incessant tears come to my eyes like unstoppable flood
Jesus has prayed even for his ghastly traitors
His sanctifying name is written in golden letters
Jesus has wanted all of us to love
And has flown the spiritual dove
He is an embodiment of Supreme sacrifice
May his divine soul purify all human Vice!
Dec 30, 2010
Dec 30, 2010 at 8:44 PM UTC
The Spirit breathes upon the word,
And brings the truth to sight;
Precepts and promises afford
A sanctifying light.
A glory gilds the sacred page,
Majestic like the sun;
It gives a light to every age,
It gives, but borrows none.
The hand that gave it still supplies
The gracious light and heat;
His truths upon the nations rise,
They rise, but never set.
Let everlasting thanks be thine,
For such a bright display,
As makes a world of darkness shine
With beams of heavenly day.
My soul rejoices to pursue
The steps of Him I love,
Till glory break upon my view
In brighter worlds above.
983
she came and went
just out of reach
like a dream escaping your mind
as the night escapes the sky
a whiff of perfume from a passing stranger
that takes you back to some memory
you can’t quite remember
unexplainable
I’m tumbling all over myself
fumbling with the words I know
and the language I do not
silly boy
I have some questions for you
and I would have said anything she wanted
so long as I could leave my message
in fingertip cursive in the steam on her mirror
I wish to catch you beneath back porch moons
a lightning bug in my jar
in hues of red passion
and purple contemplation
my hands running through her hair
fingertips gently tracing the arch of her spine
hobos walking alone through the railway dust
she is the claw game toy which fell at the last minute
I’ve been up late at night
scouring every darkened corridor and upturned rock
pebbles to be skipped across the pond
always looking for another taste of that perfume
maybe tonight
as I am resting in deep sanctifying sleep
maybe we will cross paths
and fall atop each other in a heap of love and sweat
and maybe in the morning
I won’t forget her
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 1:59 AM UTC
I was a dense forest of untold desire,
Love embraced me as the roaring wild fire
The gleaming embers in your kohl lined eyes lit,
I wouldn't ever think of putting it out my dear
Burning in the sanctifying fire of your love
Chanting aloud the mantras of fire sacrifice:1
Wasn't it bliss itself; a new avatar our love takes hereafter.
The embers are still aglow in this forest's treasure chest.
Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 8:21 AM UTC
This love is sanctifying me,
wines of ecstasy are pouring on my lips, injuring my soul with moaning,
I desire you only,
I desire the sweetness of our heavenly flavours from which the sun is melting and turning its gaze towards bottomless oceans,
let me drown my being in your absolute existence,
this shy soul of mine is giving fresh buds,
my tears are holy churches springing on Earth, where humble pilgrims search in quest for your graces and succour.
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 8:40 AM UTC
It's all imaginary
it's all real
it's all ephemeral
all eternal
every little gesture
every racing emotion
every breathless whisper
every dark and mystical room
overflowing with night air and moonlight
nothing is ever lost
truth is what is not forgotten
suffering, we learn
learning is remembering
the pain you give me
brings me back to myself
and I remember
who and what I was
before I had eyes or ears or even chloroplasts
the symbol on my hand is changing
on fire
like all of gleaming reality itself
the pearl of price which blinds the impoverished merchants
who wander naked and lost
hawking all their wares on every noisome corner
the fire is all consuming
all sanctifying
all purifying
all changing
all revealing
I am in the fire
and in the fire, all is holy
and every last thing is eternally in flames (even the merchants)
and sleep is the great activity
and death is a dear friend
who betrays with one kiss
but whose betrayal is love incarnate
I am one
with my many selves
and though I may be above you
you hear my voice
you fumble after the meaning until it finds you
I am
the light bursting out of a broken lantern
the diamond with an infinite number of perfect cuts
the voice crying milk and honey into the wilderness
the children's song that flies above the lamentation up on the desert plane
the melody that found its way into your equations
the dream that startles you wide awake
the life that pulsates in decay and corruption
the happily ever after horror story
I am
the unstoppable force
that meets the immovable object
and the result is nothing
nothing but the purest, clearest light
that has never entered the mind
take heart, my love
the raging storms of your own neurochemical electricity
will give birth to their own silence
all thought is designed to produce its own resounding negation
all speech is born to fade beautifully
all music is played until it is over
and it's closing time
and the bars empty
and the streets grow silent and still under the street lights
and the last enemy, who you fear with the Great Fear
unmasks herself, a friend and a lover
The Lover of lovers
and trembling
you fall forever into her holy and ****** embrace
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 1:00 AM UTC
You touch me and hug me
So deep
And I feel that the world
Is no longer existent
It is quintessentially changed
It is composed only of us
Me and you
And our love
Can you be the one for me?
Can you be the love of my life?
You penetrate into my very being
And you penetrate through my whole being
I feel you in my whole molecular structure
And we can create a sacred space ,a new Sacred Eden
I'm yours
And nothing else matters
And we become entwined as never
Especially when
The life explodes
In both of us
Enlightening our souls
And sanctifying our bodies,
These temples belonging to our Lord
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 7:21 AM UTC
Eleven hours past'
Since I left her nest'
Thorn thistles are whistling
I gotta' soul that won't listen
Tell me little darling
Are you the one I've been thinking about
Or is there something else
That's gotta come out?
Corner stores are empty
With our favorite fruit berry punch
I never was enough
Or ever that much
Long through the reeds which whistle naked and seethe
Toward a black horizon with no starry sky
Only the depth of the human lie
At last the point of knowing
Has reached its end
I can longer urge
To bend to send
Toward the peak of ego
Which breaks and lets me go
To and so far fro
Yellow lined start ups
Telling their substitutes
Their temporary
Absolutes
Knowledge dances in-abolished
With nothing holding itself back
But the collage of
All of it
Where the scream of the butterfly
Dances while it
Sighs
Weary word traveler
With the internet at hands,
What voice is there
But the trickling of grained' sand?
Where do you go
When you have no more paper
To pound your sorrows into stone?
To the mall
In the fall
Where you know (in secret) your already in the
Fall?
Or to the woods
Where you should
Put that ear down
To hear that sound?
Enough of the laugh riots
With the sight of the tight knits!
Enough with the misery pits
And all those pimply zits!
At last the scream of sanctifying ceremony is nowhere
Where the wings of fortitude don't exist in books
But in
Reality!
Saving the last note before the
Entrance
To paradise
The echo of one's
Pound
Share's the echo
Of one's
Sound
May 9, 2011
May 9, 2011 at 9:53 PM UTC
Each day reminds me that I am depraved
fixated, titillated still with sin
and thinking I’m smart, I’ve ranted and raved
only to wake up again in this skin
wondering if I am actually saved.
Behold the deep cesspool I find within:
unhallowed Self, to whom I am enslaved,
doomed to start over every day. Begin
again Lord Christ, that sanctifying work
you promised to accomplish through your Word.
**** the vipers that in our garden lurk;
tell of your blood and all that it conferred.
Explain—as on the road to Emmaus;
or dull mortality may dismay us.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 3:35 PM UTC
Rhythmically swimming into the deep abyss of this weird world
Our weird world
Their lies a nebulous of unknown creativity
Invisibly bloodying sadly shallow water
And until I drown
In the shallow salty water
I cannot drown the things that make me frown
Albeit problems I have, mistakes I've made, grievances I've kept
I'll never truly know
The life I could live
Insecurity is my disease
Insecurity is my cure
Sanctifying malignance molds me
Makes me madly married to anxious uncertainty
And what ever happened to simplicity?
What ever happened to the world I haven’t known?
Waking up to witness a white-washed will and
Waking up and wishing I could swim back in time
To the salt of the water
To the shallow of the brim
To the world of untapped love
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 11:32 PM UTC
I got lost hiking through thick forest
on a random planet stumbling up to
stepping stones leading me off
into a peach horizon at sunset.
I could've rested at the last
town I came across, but where's the fun at?
I'm search of long forgotten,
under-appreciated, maybe ancient gauntlets
treasured for centuries, tempting pleasures
like spices, mind bending herbs in desert
oasis' isolated from contaminates, gestures,
efforts at fixing or sanctifying, a substance
which is unique upon magnifying.
eek a gratifying, death defying act
out nothing suspect about it.
expect nothing less than upset order
its too late for complacency
funds get shorter, currency replaces spring
and anything tangible turns to arcane bling
kings oversee things, analog faces, plebeian's
day dreaming of amazingly rich places which
old modes don't allow us to behold, nope.
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 9:40 AM UTC
for we all fall into love, sin , life
into abominations which our fathers
might scold,
we may fall into darknesses ,
where the only light
is so dim only one star
light might find us, there
so few of us escape, the blind
rage , the animal instinct
among the others caged the same,
we might mistake sameness
for right for reality, and
for the few , who manage to climb
out with skin wedged under
our nails think ,
there is one of a million,
that one who saw the light
of the one star
it's brilliance as not sanctifying
brutality , who , then
saw more than one star
but heaven, saw man's potential
truly, his sins as nature,
and his future
of the world growing
more godlike, more
forgiving
betrayed the rest,
to climb out using them as
ladders,
for our sake, for our
future, nurturing
like a mother and her baby
peace , sanctity
in man, in nature together,
in abandoning
the past, for
what grace does the past
remember?
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 10:51 AM UTC
Aug. 03, 2022 06:43am
Peconic Bay, Shelter Island
*Open my poetry bible to random page,
Whitman possibilities endless, his inspirations
of human essences distilled, a parfum of
sounds and smells, touched words, an airborne
mist of spray penetrating deep, tickling cells’ walls*.
*In Whitman, where all my journeys end, the luster
of all that presents to the half-dressed eye is restored
to its original color, a reverse osmosis where the coatings
of crusty salts that nightly accumulate, word-washed away.*
miracle!
*The restorer~forgers freshen original hues,
a creator’s helpers, workpeople tasked by
whom
matters not,
for even those
whose all senses impaired,
inhale new born air that informs
the body entire that the natural
shadings have been renewed.
as if
*a virginal placenta
of pure best has cracked open,
refilling the palette of the morning, colorists
of new dab pretending it’s a first time re-gifting,
an original vista, sanctifying all who welcome-willing,
finding new combinations words to etch and fetch what
is deliciously indescribable, what is given freely, but to whom?
To each.
To each of us.
within each
our own
leaves of grass.
Aug 6, 2022
Aug 6, 2022 at 9:24 AM UTC
mushrooms
are portal sponges
of sanctifying nature,
absorbing the blessing
of wand-touched ground
to spread their kaleidoscope benediction
over the earth.
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC