"sicut" poems
there's ethical idealism:
where ethics is discussed...
there's ethical relativism:
where ethics is practised...
there's ethical realism...
where ethics is quantified
as an improbability;
and then there's ethical
absolutism,
where we supposedly
"progress" -
in this scenario are
the laws of physics actually
suspended:
whereby oculus qua oculus
is replaced -
a loss of an eye is "relative"
to 10 years in a cage...
really?!
ethics is
ideal, realistic, absolute or relative...
we're encouraged to live
in "realistic relativism"...
never in an absolute realism,
since realistic relativism
only compares itself
to ideal absolutism...
and nothing more...
ever watched that film
secrets in their eyes?
you ever wonder what
ethical idealism is to the ethnical
consequence that can absorb
a realistic libra?
i can only believe in
ethical absolutism,
ethical relativism is horrid to me...
relativism adorns idealism,
absolutism adorns realism...
a life sentence is worse than
a death sentence,
whether justified or not,
prison is sadism,
but at least ****** is simply ******
a space-time intact,
a ****** penalty is not
inhumane, nor a ouija board...
it's time for time,
space for space,
the actual punishment comes
with the missing adrenaline rush
of the unexpected reception of the wielded
weapon...
either send these jealous plonkers to
siberia, or sentence them to death,
for you are no more than they are,
nay, you are more...
you're akin to cats toying,
playing a sadistic games with half-mutilated
mice...
this is why i abhor
ethical relativism of the crucifix...
hence my belief in ethical
absolutism in the paragraph of realism,
which is perfected, by
being exacted, and never, ever,
being leisurely discussed,
on a farcical palette with a grimace
to boot: ******* a lemon;
compensating the horrors within
minutes, is never compensated
with ordeals that last years...
which is why i find the death penalty
an act of authentic humanity,
and not this quasi-humanitarian
act of pardon, ******* hypocrites -
i abhor the caged rat
more than the rat gladly nibbling
on a dead corpse...
at least there was passion
in the ******
waiting for death penalty is like killing
a vermin with poison,
disposing them with nonchalantly...
the wise maxim states:
ledo ferrum sicut id est calidi -
strike the iron while it's hot...
death is the dawn-broker -
a new tomorrow promise -
left intact, the fermenting process
of ethical dynamism takes over...
then again,
the supposedly "evolved"
preferred moral relativism to moral
absolutism,
because there was no
moral realism to speak of,
since morality could only
be talked about in ideal terms of
the supposedly so, supposedly
fashioned via: it ought to never happen to
me...
and then it might, and then:
oops... argument sinks like a wet fatty ****
into shambles of keeping up with
the presupposed pillar of argument
being "impenetrable";
hey, genius, back to the blackboard!
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 8:50 PM UTC
Novis te cantabo chordis,
O novelletum quod ludis
In solitudine cordis.
Esto sertis implicata,
Ô femina delicata
Per quam solvuntur peccata !
Sicut beneficum Lethe,
Hauriam oscula de te,
Quae imbuta es magnete.
Quum vitiorum tempegtas
Turbabat omnes semitas,
Apparuisti, Deitas,
Velut stella salutaris
In naufragiis amaris...
Suspendam cor tuis aris !
Piscina plena virtutis,
Fons æternæ juventutis
Labris vocem redde mutis !
Quod erat spurcum, cremasti ;
Quod rudius, exaequasti ;
Quod debile, confirmasti.
In fame mea taberna
In nocte mea lucerna,
Recte me semper guberna.
Adde nunc vires viribus,
Dulce balneum suavibus
Unguentatum odoribus !
Meos circa lumbos mica,
O castitatis lorica,
Aqua tincta seraphica ;
Patera gemmis corusca,
Panis salsus, mollis esca,
Divinum vinum, Francisca !
1.2k
He asks me if
I believe in angels
And before I realize
I don't have the heart
To tell him, I tell him
"Not Lately.."
And just wait
For him to hate me
But he doesn't
Know how to
So he never does
Loving like a man
In the time
Before God gave
Man religion and
Left it to them to
Figure out
What hate was
Apr 3, 2024
Apr 3, 2024 at 1:53 PM UTC
Will my body forgive me
For the market I hold in her temple
Sins for a denarius
A farthing for a night under her tapestries
When you could be watching stars
Stars shine the same whether you clutch a ticket or a match
They love to be the last thing burning out at night
I am not close to their light
Burning seems of little consequence to me
Look upon the stars
Find them more patient than I in stamina
I more soluble in my regrets
The sun begins pulling cloud tears back from the earth
Agels whisper the innocence of the world into the atmosphere
The stratosphere knows nothing of our regrets
She does not see fingers crossed behind our backs
Knowing nothing of pennies given for promises
Promises given for free
Plastic coins for a lover
Nothing in my pockets for me
Hold your secrets under my skin
Knowing you let the night carry you away
You can take it back
These are the dreams in the desert
In the sun, under the mountains
Those who journey on foot
Knowing that knocking on doors means being turned away
My desire to cling to you
Is the cold that pushes you away
You are the oranges in the snow
A cold citrus kiss
I know your real name
With no courage to spit it out
These hands are clenched
No room for promises here
Between your fingers and skin
You grip regret so tight
One truth that will not abandon you
Biting not the hand that feeds
Go hungry
When a morsel is a memory
Dreams a feast to you
Regret devours all but bones
Anger has chosen your words for today
She is your strong horse
You will not bare the weight of the reins
A bit does not taste much of metal
When there is blood on your hands
Your prayer today
You have hope tomorrow, to hope for tomorrow
Time is a feather, fool
You give her flight for the price of falling
These coins in my pockets are for you
To make my steps lighter
A copper face is nothing
When you have seen the writing on the walls
*e pluribus unum
they call me legion*
How many hands will you give me
How many dealt
To count my sins on my fingers
misertus est enim stulti
stultus est misericordia sicut vilis ut eius precibus
When the walls speak will you listen
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 4:00 PM UTC
Quod superius sicut inferius
As above so below
As within so without
On earth as it is in heaven
As the universe So the soul
All things are interconnected
The sky and the hell
The land and the sky
What is first shall be last
To accomplish the miracles of the one thing
We are the gods of the atoms that makes up ourselves
But we are also the atoms of the gods that makes up the universe
Man's spirit comes from the stars
His soul from the planets
His body from the elements
We're made of star stuff
All is mind
Everything flows out and in
The pendelum-swing manifests in everything
The measure of the swing to the right
Is the measure of the swing to the left
Everything is dual
Everything has a opposite
And opposites are identical in nature
But different in degree
Nothing rests everything moves
Everything vibrates
Every cause has it's effect
And every effect has it's cause
Infinitely,
The Cosmos
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 5:56 PM UTC
Moorish bell tower
orange brick or yellow
in a different light
I welcomed on seeing
it in sight,
extra ecclesiam
nulla salus
said Augustine
or so read,
red light
at altar end
and a monk
black robed
walked from cloister
to bell tower
stopping in the aisle
genuflecting
then walked off
to the right
in the half light,
dimidium lux
evening moon shone
through high windows
as bell tolled deep and heavy,
altum et grave
tolled bell out of sight
breaking the still silence
of the abbey where I sat
sensing the chill of evening,
Για όταν είμαι αδύναμος
τότε είναι που είμαι δυνατός
said Paul so read
in the epistle
he is strong when weak,
her two fruits pressed
against my naked chest
there may I rest said I
with a deep sigh,
soupir profond
taking in the chilled breath
in the air silence
of the abbey church,
Hugh said one
had walked
past his cell
making noise
in dawn's light
meaning me
but I ignored
etre comme le Christ
or so tried,
juger les personnes
et les choses dans
la lumière la plus
favorable à tout moment
said Dom James
quoting Vincent de Paul
in the novice's room
after terce,
she opened up
like a bird her wings
there her nest lay
and I engaged her
as she spoke
no laughter
no joke,
I weeded the graves
of the monks at rest
and moles had tunnelled
along side by the stones,
talpe di nuovo
the Italian monk said
pointing at the mounds
come piccole colline,
I knelt in the choir stalls
eyes closed
trying to capture
God's voice
but just silence,
sicut silentium
a pin could drop
and I'd hear
the deadly hush
I fear.
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC
I opened the shutters
of my room
and the 5am morning
welcomed me
with dawn chorus,
the bell tower stood
like a giant in the mist
viewed from my window,
Deus movet me,
the abbey toilet was empty
and I filled my basin
with cold water
for ablutions,
lavabis me sunt
alba sicut nix,
my cup runs over
she said and laughed
after *** and so did I,
Dom James spoke
of learning Latin for plainsong
and to practise reading
aloud in church
and I dreaded such,
nous avons un Dieu écoute
the French monk said
as he showed me
how to lay out
the vestments for Mass,
George talked of the way
the dawn light
brightens up the abbey
in mornings and I said
I had seen,
kiss me here she said
and pointed with her finger
and I did
and did again,
ohne Gott gibt es nichts
the Austrian monk said
as we walked back
to the abbey after
our walk on the Thursday,
I brushed my hand along
the brick wall
in the cloister
sensing the roughness
and the smoothness,
Hugh said the Scottish monk
had funny ways
liked knitting in his
spare time and once
played the bagpipes
so I heard,
why must we suffer?
because here below
pure Love cannot exist
without suffering
said St Bernadette
so I read some place,
un peccatore pentito
the Italian monk said
lo siamo anche noi,
I tolled the bell
for the office of Sext
my stomach rumbling,
we are what we repeatedly do
excellence is not an act
but a habit Gareth said
quoting Aristotle
as we sat on the beach
in the abbey grounds
watching the tide roll in,
I counted her ribs
with my tongue
and she was pleased,
the monk reading
in the refectory read
on Mary Queen of Scots
in monotone
his eyes scanning
the pages of the book,
see this she said
as she undressed
and I turned around
and had to look.
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC
Aliquid sicut flumen,
Quasi aliquid rosa.
Res potest esse sicut pulchritudo,
Mais tu es belle.
Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 9:23 AM UTC
Every moment, every mind,
All the world is bent and blind.
Heavy tears, free flowing blood,
Putting cruel stars in place.
Every call and every voice,
echoes, nothing but this noise.
0Da pacem Domine,
(I die by your behest)
1Quam tranquilitas,
2Quam serena mors est.
Every human ever made,
All our tears an icy glade.
Stary skies a sea of loss,
We know now, but what a cost.
Every angel every wing,
To hole of thine grave shall sing.
0Da pacem domine
(I live by your command)
3Dictat, sicut Deum
4Verb tuo,obito meum!
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 10:01 PM UTC