"spiritualized" poems
Intuition deciphers the kiss,
And a misplaced hand on my thigh
Conjures the nights I missed,
It's been two-hundred centuries,
And still, intuition deciphers the kiss
I know his kind,
He's the sort of boy
Who reddens white roses,
All the while, fifty-miles away (by train)
His "true love" supposes,
I recall the taste of summer,
And he tells me it's winter,
Through Pachelbel's Canon, I am stoned-eyed
And he tells me I haven't realised
'Cos I have not been Spiritualized,
I know his kind,
He's the sort of boy
Who bores with unfathomable proses,
All the while, with him I stay,
As my "true love" supposes
The space between him and I,
Dwarfs the Grand Canyon,
It warps and shrinks then unfolds
Wider than ever before,
For every three steps I take,
It becomes apparent
That nothing has changed
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 9:20 PM UTC
wake me
shake me
out of this febrile trance
furtively pilfering my
heart's ancient treasure
once guarded
by comforting spirits
of warm hopes and
beliefs held beyond reason
never questioned
by the minds tribunal
the jurors seated
in the cranial court
knowing eyes silenced
by misguided faith's rhetoric
never minding
the persuasive muzzle
often ignoring serpent's
retractable tongue
always turning from
the dark corridors
light banished
by modern-day pharisees
cloaked in mantles of treason
patronizingly diluting
what can only remain pure
painted with pious platitudes
away
far away
i must sail from this folly
an orphan of mystical doubt
the frost and cold tempest I feel
cautious sensibilities
a tenuous guide
through these gray
realms I traverse
trembling hands
grasp transient hopes
striving to shape
deeper meaning
disciplining lazy
traditional beliefs
that hang on like
phosphorescent
spiders in the dusty
lofty
rafters of memory
deceptive iconic silhouettes
faded de-spiritualized
superimposed on a
human-made landscape
a beautiful picture
gold frame and all!
absence of religious
pop-culture faith
eclipses peace
i shudder at the prospect
of this purge
preparing for burial
what must die
the end of an age
burned in effigy
a raging wilderness
I now pass through
I stumble by many
a familiar and
unfamiliar fane
longing to be clothed
with a mantle of peace
a vulnerable yet
strong spirit I guard
let not trivialised faith be
my misleading guide
and if it is all meaningless
alas! it may be
still I must forge
ahead to the sea
ever mindful that rivers
return to where
they have been
separated at birth
i often hear roaring waves
crashing and gentler waves
lapping on shore
but a body of water
is not always the Sea.
Aug 27, 2024
Aug 27, 2024 at 12:08 PM UTC
The water in my well is deeper and no longer bitter.
The river of life flowing into me and flowing out from me is no longer just a trickle in a sunbaked riverbed.
No matter how long
and hard the
journey has been
I take back what I lost
I take back what I wasted
and I take back what
was taken from me
whilst locked in a universally
human functionalized social
and spiritualized trance.
I take back my hope!
I take back my faith!
I take back my peace!
I take back my joy!
I take back what
was taken from me!!!
Jul 1, 2025
Jul 1, 2025 at 8:58 AM UTC
Encased in basement shadows
where spiders hang from ceiling corners
like dead men hang upon the gallows,
stirs the ghost of a forgotten child-
his body rots in a shallow grave,
but still his eyes are glowing wild.
Sitting alone in harmless study,
I saw his eyes before me burning
for what rage still held him here
like arrows lodged inside his brain-
my stomach set to churning
in helpless wonder of his pain.
Sweating and frantic, I called out:
“What is this visitation about?
Begone, if you mean to do me harm!”
Fixed upon the air alone,
those emeralds held their bitter tone,
and from the dark there stretched an arm.
It held my shoulder, and in alarm
a scream bellowed from all around
that froze my body to the ground.
Then the eyes flew through the floor,
and the scream flew out the door-
and I never sleep anymore.
Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 8:58 AM UTC