"sinai" poems
Spring upon the rose and live on the flow—
delve into the fragrance that goes full tilt
on petals that never drift with the wind.
Let it be—without form,
without a visual show.
Let’s not forget the truth:
even in pitch-dark invisible moments,
the Moon puts up a show.
Believe it or not—around that sweet spot,
the artistic paragon, Paradise, may be the next stop.
The butterfly paradise slips out to fly,
wafting into the enduring scent of a paint so bold.
Lo—on its picturesque wings it holds every eye;
where it reaches, no one knows.
It’s on the other side of the pool—
only Queen Fathima knows that sweet spot!
Any pause is deadly, heavy-handed on that route.
Death is no more; it’s unknown now.
And time—ripe for beauteous sight—is on for good!
If only one can hold their gaze,
walking the secret alleyways of God!
Oh, they flower in the fire,
dip into the sea in a single drop of water,
and pan out to another world within this world.
This time, Moses resists not—
his eyes peep beyond the burnt Mount Sinai,
gazing through burnt kohl,
across the shaded pollens
of the Ultimate Burning Beauty!
When it’s live in the true terra incognita,
it could be beyond the paradise rainbow—
the one show the true seekers sought the most.
Before long, all the rest may fade into the kohl.
Godsent, the most beautiful feminine paragon—Fathima—
lifts the black screen off at once, casting her gaze
from every never-blurred, myriad fractal pixel.
All in all, even the never-known pi digits in toto
soak into the one true description of reality's show!
Be en route—
it’s only the chosen eyes’ wonder-show,
where the handsome swans of Paradise stand on their toes.
Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 11:17 AM UTC
Songs of Oregon: No. 1 “Gonna Make You Crazy, That Place”
nuts, crazy peeps
whomever wherever,
regardless of race creed color or gender (did I get ‘em all?)
current state of residence (geo-identified)
a poem - the very same recited,
as a disclaimer, a yellow finger wagging warning:
“Don’t go! If you go, you won’t come back”
now kids, I’m a veteran of foreign travel,
many continents, cold and hot, rivers and seas,
some living, some dead,
some so big they named it Endless,
been to the great cities, Swiss villages,
pyramids, climbed Masada,
danced on grapes (why can’t I recall where)
skied the Alps, trekked the Sinai Desert,
clubbed in Rio, and danced till morn,
on a certain Greek Isle that rhymes with Mickey’s Nose
even been to L.A and San Fran, left poorer
but in sync,
always came home
with my mind decently reshaped
me/ a product of gritty unpretty grime,
streets of normal humans
acting like normal escaped mad persons,
this brutal city island instilled a
layer of fat and smog neath my skin,
a kind of migrating duck-like survival kit,
came with a homing beacon included
the those of you who know me,
perhaps too well, ken we citified islanders
love our beaches (fire hydrants)
cherish our sun dappled blessings
upon on farms (window sill herb gardens)
and sunning settlements (rooftops)
they say our tap water is secretly bottled,
sold in places where the springs purportedly
run crystalline
though we don’t got no pinot, just sweet concord grape,
so sweet, the wine of children and street nodders,
needy for instant sugar highs
so as we new Yorkers proudly
say on our license plates,
prove it or stfup!
so a first hand investigation for which
the taxpayers won’t be charged even a lousy mill,
deemed necessary to put to rest this crazy claiming warning
“Don’t go! If you go, you won’t come back”
guessing must be something in the water and the wine
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 9:00 AM UTC
The Creator looked at the elephant and said:
I made you big so you could be gentle
To the mouse he said: I made you small
so you could walk tall
But over millions of years you two could exchange
places and one become the other.
I know I shoved the lot of you in an Ark
Because Noah was being a pesk asking for rain
when his washing machine ran dry
So I had to fill the oceans to stop that old man
from complaining all the time. Besides I needed the bark
from the trees of the Ark to make me a small tug boat
to carry some DNA samples of my own, in case,
the lion ate the cow, the tiger chewed on the cat
and the fox tricked the rest with his cunning ways
You see, my friends, there was no grass, or snakes
or bird cages, or trees for the monkeys to swing on.
I thought of many things before I gave the building plans
to Noah and his sons. Only one was a builder the rest
were bums, who never held a hammer or learned how to
tie two bits of trees together, leave alone building
an ark to hold the worlds whole creation.Thankfully
there were no real estate agents pushing the price up
or bankers charging interest. The mafia thought of charging
an entrance fee for each pair, but before they could do that the rains came pelting down and the tickets got washed away in the storm.
So you see the Ark was a joint venture between
The Americans and Chinese and Indians
because they were willing to multiply quicker
than the rest once Mt Sinai rose up to meet the
oak leviathan from underneath.
And so my dear elephants and mouse
and fox and snake and bird and
lion and tiger. Noah and his wonderful Ark
was a script written well ahead so that Russell Crowe could get
a part playing Noah in a computer generated extravaganza
where only the actors and actresses who could afford
to pay a price to be in it - were involved.
The rest of mankind be ******
Author Notes
Quirky.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
Justin I forgive you, won’t you call me, your birthday must be coming soon we haven’t spoken since we moved our family into the desert. I just pray you’re not seeking cotton fever yet again, chasing the dragon, or at the very least eating school buses while falling into ‘H’ before you find yourself in bed drunk again, and on Ambien too. Dead too soon. You’ve always wondered why I didn’t introduce you to Ryan, my other incredibly dear and brotherly friend. Well wonder none more, he’s in a padded room at Mt. Sinai in Lakeview or perhaps Northwestern’s adult care unit, there was talk or at least I imagined he could make it to Lakeside Manor right there East of Foster. So it’s clemency, peace of mind, and something to loosen the edge off your back, something to let you fall, something to set your pain at weightless your mind at I-Don’t-Have-To-Give-A-Fuck-Anymore, my friend where have you been? Where have you taken yourself? Please drag yourself back at least a half-step, reverse your position and engineer an out please. I can’t begin to accept losing both of my brothers to two versions of the same disease.
Oct 20, 2019
Oct 20, 2019 at 1:10 AM UTC
My eyes smell sleepy, he, refusing to depart,
But there is coffee on the nightstand,
The odor, infiltrating the dozy brain's heart.
Annoyed with each other,
They shout and fight
Like teenage siblings Commissioners at the SEC,
Arguing over bathroom monopolization,
The tongue stays sidelined, feigning net neutrality.
The bed smells empty,
For the **** has crowed,
Yogi David commands your presence
At Saturday morning Eight O'clock yoga services.
To get to his Sinai on time,
Early departure, an FAA requirement,
Car, ferry and foot you will deploy,
In the winter, special skis and snowshoes,
That blessed by his mantra,
Enable you to walk on water.
In the kitchen there is sisterly conversation,
Yes, puttering and muttering and discussing,
Sister's grown child texting, he's making the pilgrimage
To see Mama, alone, unexpectedly,
Six hours driving.
Friends and countryman,
That is how you spell t-r-o-u-b-l-e
Sleepy master dwarf refuses to concede,
Says when kitchen noises retreat,
Back to him you will supplicate,
They (the other dwarfs and body parts),
Have a big convention to better communicate..
Departure comes without a kiss,
But not without complaint,
She always says I love you first,
Which is natural,
She being a girl.
Now the bladder starts to whiny~chatter,
What about me, what about me,
Don't you love me, and me rhymes with P!
While the stomach quietly snores
Have been well-fed
but a few hours before,
He dreams of some more....macadamia crusted s'mores...
I could verse you more,
No problem that's for sure,
But you got the point:
The morning smells.
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 7:18 AM UTC
AN ATTACK ON BARBERCRAFT
[Dedicated to George Cecil Jones]
At last an end of all I hoped and feared!
Muttered the hermit through his elfin beard.
Then what art thou? the evil whisper whirred.
I doubt me soerly if the hermit heard.
To all God's questions never a word he said,
But simply shook his venerable head.
God sent all plagues; he laughed and heeded not,
Till people certified him insane.
But somehow all his fellow-luntaics
Began to imitate his silly ticks.
And stranger still, their prospects so enlarged
That one by one the patients were discharged.
God asked him by what right he interfered;
He only laughed and into his elfin beard.
When God revealed Himself to mortal prayer
He gave a fatal opening to Voltaire.
Our Hermi had dispensed with Sinai's thunder,
But on the other hand he made no blunder;
He knew ( no doubt) that any axiom
Would furnish bricks to build some Donkeydom.
But!-all who urged that hermit to confess
Caught the infection of his happiness.
I would it were my fate to dree his weird;
I think that I will grow an elfin beard.
2.3k
(Hebrews, iv.2)
Israel in ancient days
Not only had a view
Of Sinai in a blaze,
But learn'd the Gospel too;
The types and figures were a glass,
In which thy saw a Saviour's face.
The paschal sacrifice
And blood-besprinkled door,
Seen with enlighten'd eyes,
And once applied with power,
Would teach the need of other blood,
To reconcile an angry God.
The Lamb, the Dove, set forth
His perfect innocence,
Whose blood of matchless worth
Whould be the soul's defence;
For he who can for sin atone,
Must have no failings of His own.
The scape-goat on his head
The people's trespass bore,
And to the desert led,
Was to be seen no more:
In him our surety seem'd to say,
"Behold, I bear your sins away."
Dipt in his fellow's blood,
The living bird went free;
The type, well understood,
Express'd the sinner's plea;
Described a guilty soul enlarged,
And by a Saviour's death discharged.
Jesus, I love to trace,
Throughout the sacred page,
The footsteps of Thy grace,
The same in every age!
Oh, grant that I may faithful be
To clearer light vouchsafed to me!
2.2k
No, do dread my glance ,im Helen.
im the purest creature of rage ****
a lapse glance alas , a doom .
a dream of Luth's sealed gloom.
sinister glare of Gomorrah bright.
soured sight of sere flower blight.
im venomous kiss of sweetest lips.
deadliest breath of daughter of Rappicini.
come fair son of light and beauty.
date me with naive lurking desire.
receive my poisonous breath satire .
i will sail thee near a pestilent fountain.
im the sinister Titania and Bottom and more i contain.
behold you not with my innocent beauty .
perverse is my nature intend but my name holy.
dost cross the path to purity on mount Sinai.
cause i shall rule and Helen the offspring of my ****
is lure untamed fiend,feed her she behold with leech.
no, one of my breath is a blast to thy life to leash.
my glare is illuminated like azure Vegas.
my nectar Pompeii larva of past .
my beauty is heaven flame it charms .
come; rich, beauty ,savant and fame.
for thou dost not behold with immortal Ichor.
sip deep my breath.
and meddle you with my luring glare.
im Titania i hang over my head a dagger.
upon which thy blood stream to the Bottom.
thou thinkest to entwine me ?
no,lo King Cophetua and the beggar maid.
and my judgement hell fire .
Thebes is in rout but Capaneus bid dust.
what dost thou want ,thou Sophist ?
no the sojourn of thee is Zeus Kirma.
beset for worst as the writ Apocrypha.
come thee savant ,come thee poet.
bekneel before the sacred attire .
heaven bow before the holy Dionysus.
for we beset you with frenzy ,ecstasy, and drama.
all behold the same destiny.
but elixir yonder in Kimmerian trinity.
try not you for eternal bloom .
cause error at Achille right heel.
but Maqueros, Lazarus , and Leviticus.
all will queenly glance at our Caduceus.
behold you not my beauty.
but behold you with our Pow wow.
behold you ! say Amen RA.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 3:00 PM UTC
Kwmsi jabai noao sofwibai
bati pwjwngnanwi
de de leka poraidw de
karkrao karsi gelenaikow baodw
~
giyani jagwn leka porai
bati pwjwngnanwi
de de gwsw hwdw de
boijwngbw sinai jagwn oblasw
~
dlab dlab tangbai sana
bwiswabw halw dwilw tangbai
bati pwjwngnanwi
de de gwswao ladw
~
daoha pwigwn melemni
jambapwra jengwn
bati pwjwngnanwi
de de siyan jadw
~
megon kana jerwi
mansi jamba erwi
bati pwjwngnanwi
de de butum giyan de
~
mitiywikow mitiyw bijabao
nuywikow nuyw gwrwng jabla
bati pwjwngnanwi
de de hangkw hala sinaidw.
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 2:03 AM UTC
but that could be said of anywhere.
However, some places
seem to have hypnotic hips and easy eyes
with a mischevious, seductive scarab grin.
Like magic, it pulls me in.
Here, labels like good or bad are trite,
there is only this magnetic whirling
energy culling myself and others inside
simply because we picked up the phone and showed up.
But now it's our responsibility to find balance
amidst serene listless apathy on the beach
and party hardy into the midnight arty energy scene jack & coke down the rabbit hole we go.
Some Bedouins say Dahab means "time goes,"
which has me convinced Moses and his folks weren't lost
in terms of location but lost when it relates to time,
trying to find a middle path
between excess and sloth
in this south Sinai town.
Yes, not two but three schools of thought,
forming a triangle in this hypnotizing spiral;
two points of excess and one of balance!
All three balance each other,
and it's hell trying to stay in the center of this eye
of this metaphorical storm of enlightenment.
Naturally, gravitational forces pull some to the
gray matter island headspace of echoed sins
and carnivorous lascivious pandemonium.
Not everyone will find what they seek on the warm beaches here,
or the raving, bubble foam dance parties in strobe light nights.
That's just the way it is;
there's not enough room for everyone in the center.
And this is where we learn to accept ones place,
because only then can we move on to another plane,
on another beach with more to learn and some to teach.
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 7:43 PM UTC
the eTablets from Mt Sinai
those from on High
they weren’t working
so Current Moses held them high
and he said:
*“Anybody knows how to
work these things?
I was never good at Technology,
much less these new eTablets!
Nobody makes them work -
I'll smash them to smithereens!”*
The Technician whom
they called to service
was a ****** migrant, a heathen
a pacifist
and a non-believer at that
And he examined the tablets
and he declared his prognosis:
*“I can see it’s lost its power.
I see too it’s made in China –
I’m afraid it doesn’t come
with a warranty either.
Next time, for software and hardware
try Mongolia, or get your stuff all from India”*
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 8:27 AM UTC
the blatant frustrations of live feed editing.
enter the tablet, joystick free, one touch games,
quiet interesting that it’s so hard
to get a gaming addiction with such games
as candy crush soda, family farm,
bubble witch 2...
you will not see an adrenaline tornado on these
platitudes, no movie like involvement,
no plot... just time contraints, money constraints,
the adequate reflection of life: hey mort! when you coming?
hey forthnight debility cheque! when you coming?
(i too thought tetris originated in japan,
but it was actually of soviet design!
so in conclusion: games designed to be as reflected
by someone doing a crossword - i'm crap at
those, being bilingual is obstructive -
i'm in constant translation mode looking
for picturesque synonymity - or doing sūdoku -
which i'm not too bad at.)
a bit like that jesus debacle, so gott insisted on giving
proof of his existence to a baby... bad move...
the kid grew up in a bubble and thought he could do anything...
elijah just said to the priests: but if your god doesn’t exist,
what’s the point of having you? later he repented
on mt. sinai where god was but a whisper...
like the whisper of the dream of what rome was at first:
a republic. i believe in republicanism, i don’t believe
in that shamble that’s known as democracy, and is currently
the biggest export from america... exported to usurp
other nation’s republicanism - the elders of afghanistan
will never be modern family mr. jason wordsmith and
mr. jack wordsmith, raising an adopted / surrogate mother’s
kid... not in a million years... nor will revised buddhism
in western europe ever be original shinto of japan...
not in a million years... we’re not a monochromatic people.
back to jesus: there’s not one shred of christianity in
jurisprudence (philosophy of law /
etymology: prudence of having a jury) - but when you’re faced
with an enemy who’s a lawyer, and has connections...
and you’re a poor idiot who was forced into a paranoid schizophrenia
simulation for 7 years... you don’t set out to attack
and get compensation like that woman schopenhauer pushed
down the stairs... you set out to prove god -
and subsequently leave the ******* in his own waiting
line for karma - i hardly think there will be an oliver twit
in him to ask for some more.
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
They tried to bury Yahushua Alef Tav
behind a nice Platonic, less Jewish facade
Renamed Him Jesus the Alpha Omega
and chanted many HEP HEP Hoorahs
... beside His feminist-friendly god/mother
to the tune of many hail Marys
even freed Him from His own Torah
despite "think not I came to replace it"
But see, He's risen now
from every holy papal place
from every charismatic falsity
that preached pew-warming prosperity
He's restoring Israel
not gentiledom...
one lost sheep at a time
back into twelve chaste tribes
just as she was under Sinai's hupa
before the separation
He's elbowing aside modern pharisees
who refuse to know Moses
and therefore can't know Him
or follow His commandments
who really aren't into feeding lost sheep
Egyptians hate sheep
It reminds them of plagues
Leaven goes better with bacon
Aug 26, 2010
Aug 26, 2010 at 11:54 AM UTC
Electromagnetic field of Sensation propel my charged particles accumulation into Emotional system Frustrations. Declaration at Sub Zero vibration. Igniting immediate internal stimulation. Enclosed Body temple visitation. Divided People I am salvation. Hear my confession of love amalgamation.
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 4:39 PM UTC
where did the hatred come from?
who planted it who watered it who let it grow
like a **** choking me
where in history or my family tree
I close my eyes
I am a butterfly, and the flap of my wings
could move mountains
could topple empires
and so I follow the twisted roots of hatred
to their source
I fly to England in 1611
this time, this time
as my wings beat against the air
the translators know
that malakoi and arsenokoitai condemn pederasty
not men who love each other as equals
or men who are strong enough
to be soft
I fly to a time that never happened
to a place that never was
but that is somehow no less real
I am the first butterfly, in the garden of Eden
the first human watches me in awe
and as I come to rest on their hand,
they give me my name
and the glittering of my shiny blue wings
catches the eyes of all humanity to come
draws their attention to the first human
and they see the truth:
a chimera, both male and female
created in G-d's image, both male and female
I am flying above the crowd at Mount Sinai
and my wings shape the air
it cups their ears to G-d’s mouth
and they hear the silence between the words
as they listen to what could not be understood then,
but what is understood now:
do not ****
do not use *** to humiliate
I follow the roots back
as they disappear
and there is no more hatred,
fear, or misunderstanding
but the dream ends
and in this life
I am still only a caterpillar
will I live to be a butterfly?
when my father and mother leave me
G-d will gather me in
G-d, my father, and my mother bird
G-d is my refuge and stronghold
my G-d who I trust
will save me from the hunter's trap
from the deadly plague
G-d will cover me with Their wings
under which I find refuge
until I grow my own wings
and I will not fear the terrors at night
or the arrows that fly by day.
Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 1:52 AM UTC
Il manicomio è una grande cassa
con atmosfere di suono
e il delirio diventa specie,
l'anonimità misura,
il manicomio è il monte Sinai
luogo maledetto
sopra cui tu ricevi
le tavole di una legge
agli uomini sconosciuta.
1.4k
You say, but with no touch of scorn,
Sweet-hearted, you, whose light-blue eyes
Are tender over drowning flies,
You tell me, doubt is Devil-born.
I know not: one indeed I knew
In many a subtle question versed,
Who touch'd a jarring lyre at first,
But ever strove to make it true:
Perplext in faith, but pure in deeds,
At last he beat his music out.
There lives more faith in honest doubt,
Believe me, than in half the creeds.
He fought his doubts and gather'd strength,
He would not make his judgment blind,
He faced the spectres of the mind
And laid them: thus he came at length
To find a stronger faith his own;
And Power was with him in the night,
Which makes the darkness and the light,
And dwells not in the light alone,
But in the darkness and the cloud,
As over Sinai's peaks of old,
Altho' the trumpet blew so loud.
1.2k
*concerning anti-kantian lexicon completion to understand the notion of a priori (it's a niche interest... c. bukowski explains it better in the book tales of ordinary madness in the chapter titled **** and kant and a happy home... well, not really, if he knew german i’d say that he was truly defining a priori, learning a language rather than unconsciously acquiring one from the first word mama or whatever toddlers say first when they mastered the bladder and **** muscles, which are oddly designed to be consciously / forcefully trained because they're crafted as slacked... weird), let’s say that’s about as much relevant to me as is this scenario:*
an actress about to perform the monologue script
of not i, prior to performance and at the stage
of memorisation asks samuel (beckett): ‘what does this mean?
this one line? it’s bothersome for my conscience,
my sense of meaning and direction, what does it mean?’
then ol’ samuel tells her: ‘back up, bets and back up,
it’s the most self-conscious eventuality of all vague attempts
to stand outside of oneself within the scaffold of using
language - this dismemberment beginning with extracting
thought for the senses to see hear and feel, writing...
this morphing of the substance we consider thought without ethos, ethics,
choices, looking at the zeitgeist... but honestly?
i haven’t got the foggiest idea... i wrote it because i wrote it,
the desired intentions are reserved for those desiring to read it
and leave it.’
like the famous p.s. of human history written by moses on sinai,
the melting of ice enveloping britain and elsewhere up north,
formerly known as the ice age causing flooding elsewhere...
and that metaphor of: lions gazelles... two-by-two, two-by-two
being a metaphor for monogamy... whereas the harems of other
animals like walruses was obviously avoided
and gave us islamic polygamy (added to the fact
that people refer to themselves via the zodiac...
taurus... scorpio... capricorn... or the chinese calendar...
dragons tigers pigs rats and monkeys etc.);
otherwise known as hermeneutics - extraction of meaning
from very concise texts... very very concise texts
which, if taken literally... leave you as quickly as they came,
and make you specialise in geology or biology instead.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC
She came down from Mt. Rainier
wearing khaki park ranger's garb,
a female Moses descending Sinai,
clutching a leather chapbook,
survival notes for a “Dangerous Life”.
Nightingales were songbirds for the grief,
as MS stole in like 'Frisco fog,
unnoticed by a comet-blinded public.
And when the awards came,
strokes of jackpot luck,
acquired enthusiasms soon were
dropped in excruciating back spasms.
She touted poetry as civic-glue,
paste for a populist purpose.
Olympia’s oracle rarely leaves the house,
curtains drawn, newspapers unread,
writing feverishly, as “The Body Mutinies”.
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 10:10 PM UTC
Imagine
Imagine a world where we all live as one
Where people walk hand in hand and don’t live by the gun
Where a man can be a man because racism is gone
And the evil deception of politicians are done
And the freedom from freeing my soul is met by the rays of the sun
And I stand on Mount Sinai
And wait for people to come
As they turn they back on corruption and start to run
And the power is handed from the words
And we can once again have fun
Imagine a world where we all live for today
Where yesterday is faded in time and in space
Where every gender, color, creed and race
Announces to the world
That peace is here to stay
And then the Messiah no longer has a reason to wait
Because we’ve destroyed power, corruption, greed and hate
And we stand here united along the same fate
Bringers of words to articulate
Imagine a world where we do not run from our ways
And we pound and we pray that we don’t stray from our days
And we show them what we know
Because knowledge can reign
And the point of the main game
Is not to be vain
So I strain and I drain till all the blood from my veins
Show you my love and the reason I’m praying
And my shoulders no longer feel the heaviness weighing
And we tell evil it no longer has a reason for staying
Because we no longer have a reason for waiting
Imagine a world where hope is the word
And the beauty of men
Is destroyed by the herds
And evil and hate can no longer learn
And men aren’t shot for the use of their words
Imagine all this without all the verbs
In sight of your own eyes
Soaring like birds
United by the heavens, clouds, skies and earth
To live in peace without concern
Imagine-
Thank you JL
Oct 18, 2010
Oct 18, 2010 at 5:28 PM UTC
Moses descends from the rugged heights of Sinai bearing the tablet
"You shall not ******
Nietzche organizes the cobwebs of his mind to declare morality is his own
"God is dead"
Even Monty Python creates mockery and mishap from "The Meaning of Life."
A Macedonian, a **** a Patriot
with Intelligence, Voice, and Sword
step over the caution tape and march nations
into the deepest valleys atop the heights of Everest.
The likes of Augustine put their chips on the table for patience
but Patton has a pair of aces and the academics fold before the river.
The denotations of Good and Evil are forever
infinite and versatile to the dismay of the Philosopher,
while God himself
is denied power
to undo the past.
Humanity lives
on the nourishment
of knowledge.
Mar 27, 2010
Mar 27, 2010 at 8:51 AM UTC
You say, but with no touch of scorn,
Sweet-hearted, you, whose light-blue eyes
Are tender over drowning flies,
You tell me, doubt is Devil-born.
I know not: one indeed I knew
In many a subtle question versed,
Who touch'd a jarring lyre at first,
But ever strove to make it true:
Perplext in faith, but pure in deeds,
At last he beat his music out.
There lives more faith in honest doubt,
Believe me, than in half the creeds.
He fought his doubts and gather'd strength,
He would not make his judgment blind,
He faced the spectres of the mind
And laid them: thus he came at length
To find a stronger faith his own;
And Power was with him in the night,
Which makes the darkness and the light,
And dwells not in the light alone,
But in the darkness and the cloud,
As over Sinai's peaks of old,
While Israel made their gods of gold,
Altho' the trumpet blew so loud.
975
i.
Atop of Mount Sinai
Pious place noone goeth;
Sentinel's keepeth watch
Just in case the Devil showeth.
ii.
I came to an emanation
As the lambent dreweth me near;
She was wearing islander garb
She cometh from afar, not from here.
iii
She explained she was visiting
With the other angelic's inside;
I dropped and I fainted
From tis her beauty I didst cry.
iv.
As tis the squamous underworld master's
Came up from their woeful sleeping;
Mine luminescence bearer held them back
I couldst heareth them yelp, mine body began shaking.
v.
And whilst I was quivering
The rock's began to shaketh;
I kneweth mine queen was unearthly
For tis she saved me, and she fleweth me off, as hell quaketh.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
Confronted by a Red sea,
Pursued hard by an enemy:
Knowing not wither again to turn,
Where else in the world to run;
Stand in faith still! for surely
Soon, you will see God's glory
Enveloping your life, like Moses
On Mt. Sinai; and you'll rejoice.
Deferred hope dead, rotten
Away like Lazarus: forgotten.
Unyielding expectations and commitments,
Now resigned wholly to disappointments;
Stand in faith still! for surely
Soon, you will see God's glory
For you, like Mary and Martha,
Like Elizabeth and Zechariah.
Mightier than all challenges is God,
Parting Red seas with faith's rod.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 11:33 AM UTC