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Torin Mar 2016
She was straitened among vines
And I came
A messenger from the ruler
Known by the red coverings of my knees

She was sitting straitened under a stump
With bare buttocks
In a gloomy valley
And no prospects for deliverance

She was straitened before a frowning rock
Her means of escape
Cut her hands as a thorny branch
Oppressed by that which should not opress

She was straitened in a lonely place
A palace without a ruler
A king enters his castle
And does not see a queen


She was straitened among vines
(Which she could break anytime)
And I came
(I was always there)
A messenger from the ruler
(A man who wants to love)
Known by the red coverings of my knees
(And my sacrifice to the spirits)
I was worried it would be hard to understand, wrote it anyways:)
Elena Slepneva Apr 2017
I wanna be as free as a bird,
All I need is to say one shy word,
Flying up high in the sky.
If you're brave, you can try.

Let your wings be straitened,
Catch the wind into your net.
Be like river's stormy stream,
Run away towards your dream.

When your thoughts want aspire to clouds,
And the soul tries to get rid of chains,
Don't think about those noisy crowds,
Who are playing their boring games.

Let your wings be straitened,
Catch the wind into your net.
Be like river's stormy stream,
Run away towards your dream.

You have all time of the world.
So you should not follow the rules,
They exterminate your identity,
Make people be like a flock of fools.

But then a dream comes to the end.
Starts another interminable day.
You rush down from the sky to the land.
And a rainbow becomes dark and grey.

Let your wings be straitened,
Catch the wind into your net.
Be like river's stormy stream,
Run away towards your dream.

If you wanna be as free as a bird,
All you need is say only one word,
Flying up high in the sky.
If you're brave, you can try.
No more of talk where God or Angel guest
With Man, as with his friend, familiar us’d,
To sit indulgent, and with him partake
Rural repast; permitting him the while
Venial discourse unblam’d. I now must change
Those notes to tragick; foul distrust, and breach
Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt,
And disobedience: on the part of Heaven
Now alienated, distance and distaste,
Anger and just rebuke, and judgement given,
That brought into this world a world of woe,
Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery
Death’s harbinger: Sad talk!yet argument
Not less but more heroick than the wrath
Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued
Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage
Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous’d;
Or Neptune’s ire, or Juno’s, that so long
Perplexed the Greek, and Cytherea’s son:                        

If answerable style I can obtain
Of my celestial patroness, who deigns
Her nightly visitation unimplor’d,
And dictates to me slumbering; or inspires
Easy my unpremeditated verse:
Since first this subject for heroick song
Pleas’d me long choosing, and beginning late;
Not sedulous by nature to indite
Wars, hitherto the only argument
Heroick deem’d chief mastery to dissect
With long and tedious havock fabled knights
In battles feign’d; the better fortitude
Of patience and heroick martyrdom
Unsung; or to describe races and games,
Or tilting furniture, imblazon’d shields,
Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds,
Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights
At joust and tournament; then marshall’d feast
Serv’d up in hall with sewers and seneshals;
The skill of artifice or office mean,
Not that which justly gives heroick name
To person, or to poem.  Me, of these
Nor skill’d nor studious, higher argument
Remains; sufficient of itself to raise
That name, unless an age too late, or cold
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing
Depress’d; and much they may, if all be mine,
Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear.
The sun was sunk, and after him the star
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring
Twilight upon the earth, short arbiter
“twixt day and night, and now from end to end
Night’s hemisphere had veil’d the horizon round:
When satan, who late fled before the threats
Of Gabriel out of Eden, now improv’d
In meditated fraud and malice, bent
On Man’s destruction, maugre what might hap
Of heavier on himself, fearless returned
From compassing the earth; cautious of day,
Since Uriel, regent of the sun, descried
His entrance, and foreworned the Cherubim
That kept their watch; thence full of anguish driven,
The space of seven continued nights he rode
With darkness; thrice the equinoctial line
He circled; four times crossed the car of night
From pole to pole, traversing each colure;
On the eighth returned; and, on the coast averse
From entrance or Cherubick watch, by stealth
Found unsuspected way.  There was a place,
Now not, though sin, not time, first wrought the change,
Where Tigris, at the foot of Paradise,
Into a gulf shot under ground, till part
Rose up a fountain by the tree of life:
In with the river sunk, and with it rose
Satan, involved in rising mist; then sought
Where to lie hid; sea he had searched, and land,
From Eden over Pontus and the pool
Maeotis, up beyond the river Ob;
Downward as far antarctick; and in length,
West from Orontes to the ocean barred
At Darien ; thence to the land where flows
Ganges and Indus: Thus the orb he roamed
With narrow search; and with inspection deep
Considered every creature, which of all
Most opportune might serve his wiles; and found
The Serpent subtlest beast of all the field.
Him after long debate, irresolute
Of thoughts revolved, his final sentence chose
Fit vessel, fittest imp of fraud, in whom
To enter, and his dark suggestions hide
From sharpest sight: for, in the wily snake
Whatever sleights, none would suspicious mark,
As from his wit and native subtlety
Proceeding; which, in other beasts observed,
Doubt might beget of diabolick power
Active within, beyond the sense of brute.
Thus he resolved, but first from inward grief
His bursting passion into plaints thus poured.
More justly, seat worthier of Gods, as built
With second thoughts, reforming what was old!
O Earth, how like to Heaven, if not preferred
For what God, after better, worse would build?
Terrestrial Heaven, danced round by other Heavens
That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps,
Light above light, for thee alone, as seems,
In thee concentring all their precious beams
Of sacred influence!  As God in Heaven
Is center, yet extends to all; so thou,
Centring, receivest from all those orbs: in thee,
Not in themselves, all their known virtue appears
Productive in herb, plant, and nobler birth
Of creatures animate with gradual life
Of growth, sense, reason, all summed up in Man.
With what delight could I have walked thee round,
If I could joy in aught, sweet interchange
Of hill, and valley, rivers, woods, and plains,
Now land, now sea and shores with forest crowned,
Rocks, dens, and caves!  But I in none of these
Find place or refuge; and the more I see
Pleasures about me, so much more I feel
Torment within me, as from the hateful siege
Of contraries: all good to me becomes
Bane, and in Heaven much worse would be my state.
But neither here seek I, no nor in Heaven
To dwell, unless by mastering Heaven’s Supreme;
Nor hope to be myself less miserable
By what I seek, but others to make such
As I, though thereby worse to me redound:
For only in destroying I find ease
To my relentless thoughts; and, him destroyed,
Or won to what may work his utter loss,
For whom all this was made, all this will soon
Follow, as to him linked in weal or woe;
In woe then; that destruction wide may range:
To me shall be the glory sole among
The infernal Powers, in one day to have marred
What he, Almighty styled, six nights and days
Continued making; and who knows how long
Before had been contriving? though perhaps
Not longer than since I, in one night, freed
From servitude inglorious well nigh half
The angelick name, and thinner left the throng
Of his adorers: He, to be avenged,
And to repair his numbers thus impaired,
Whether such virtue spent of old now failed
More Angels to create, if they at least
Are his created, or, to spite us more,
Determined to advance into our room
A creature formed of earth, and him endow,
Exalted from so base original,
With heavenly spoils, our spoils: What he decreed,
He effected; Man he made, and for him built
Magnificent this world, and earth his seat,
Him lord pronounced; and, O indignity!
Subjected to his service angel-wings,
And flaming ministers to watch and tend
Their earthly charge: Of these the vigilance
I dread; and, to elude, thus wrapt in mist
Of midnight vapour glide obscure, and pry
In every bush and brake, where hap may find
The serpent sleeping; in whose mazy folds
To hide me, and the dark intent I bring.
O foul descent! that I, who erst contended
With Gods to sit the highest, am now constrained
Into a beast; and, mixed with ******* slime,
This essence to incarnate and imbrute,
That to the highth of Deity aspired!
But what will not ambition and revenge
Descend to?  Who aspires, must down as low
As high he soared; obnoxious, first or last,
To basest things.  Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils:
Let it; I reck not, so it light well aimed,
Since higher I fall short, on him who next
Provokes my envy, this new favourite
Of Heaven, this man of clay, son of despite,
Whom, us the more to spite, his Maker raised
From dust: Spite then with spite is best repaid.
So saying, through each thicket dank or dry,
Like a black mist low-creeping, he held on
His midnight-search, where soonest he might find
The serpent; him fast-sleeping soon he found
In labyrinth of many a round self-rolled,
His head the midst, well stored with subtile wiles:
Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den,
Nor nocent yet; but, on the grassy herb,
Fearless unfeared he slept: in at his mouth
The Devil entered; and his brutal sense,
In heart or head, possessing, soon inspired
With act intelligential; but his sleep
Disturbed not, waiting close the approach of morn.
Now, when as sacred light began to dawn
In Eden on the humid flowers, that breathed
Their morning incense, when all things, that breathe,
From the Earth’s great altar send up silent praise
To the Creator, and his nostrils fill
With grateful smell, forth came the human pair,
And joined their vocal worship to the quire
Of creatures wanting voice; that done, partake
The season prime for sweetest scents and airs:
Then commune, how that day they best may ply
Their growing work: for much their work out-grew
The hands’ dispatch of two gardening so wide,
And Eve first to her husband thus began.
Adam, well may we labour still to dress
This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower,
Our pleasant task enjoined; but, till more hands
Aid us, the work under our labour grows,
Luxurious by restraint; what we by day
Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind,
One night or two with wanton growth derides
Tending to wild.  Thou therefore now advise,
Or bear what to my mind first thoughts present:
Let us divide our labours; thou, where choice
Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind
The woodbine round this arbour, or direct
The clasping ivy where to climb; while I,
In yonder spring of roses intermixed
With myrtle, find what to redress till noon:
For, while so near each other thus all day
Our task we choose, what wonder if so near
Looks intervene and smiles, or object new
Casual discourse draw on; which intermits
Our day’s work, brought to little, though begun
Early, and the hour of supper comes unearned?
To whom mild answer Adam thus returned.
Sole Eve, associate sole, to me beyond
Compare above all living creatures dear!
Well hast thou motioned, well thy thoughts employed,
How we might best fulfil the work which here
God hath assigned us; nor of me shalt pass
Unpraised: for nothing lovelier can be found
In woman, than to study houshold good,
And good works in her husband to promote.
Yet not so strictly hath our Lord imposed
Labour, as to debar us when we need
Refreshment, whether food, or talk between,
Food of the mind, or this sweet *******
Of looks and smiles; for smiles from reason flow,
To brute denied, and are of love the food;
Love, not the lowest end of human life.
For not to irksome toil, but to delight,
He made us, and delight to reason joined.
These paths and bowers doubt not but our joint hands
Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide
As we need walk, till younger hands ere long
Assist us; But, if much converse perhaps
Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield:
For solitude sometimes is best society,
And short retirement urges sweet return.
But other doubt possesses me, lest harm
Befall thee severed from me; for thou knowest
What hath been warned us, what malicious foe
Envying our happiness, and of his own
Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame
By sly assault; and somewhere nigh at hand
Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find
His wish and best advantage, us asunder;
Hopeless to circumvent us joined, where each
To other speedy aid might lend at need:
Whether his first design be to withdraw
Our fealty from God, or to disturb
Conjugal love, than which perhaps no bliss
Enjoyed by us excites his envy more;
Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side
That gave thee being, still shades thee, and protects.
The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks,
Safest and seemliest by her husband stays,
Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.
To whom the ****** majesty of Eve,
As one who loves, and some unkindness meets,
With sweet austere composure thus replied.
Offspring of Heaven and Earth, and all Earth’s Lord!
That such an enemy we have, who seeks
Our ruin, both by thee informed I learn,
And from the parting Angel over-heard,
As in a shady nook I stood behind,
Just then returned at shut of evening flowers.
But, that thou shouldst my firmness therefore doubt
To God or thee, because we have a foe
May tempt it, I expected not to hear.
His violence thou fearest not, being such
As we, not capable of death or pain,
Can either not receive, or can repel.
His fraud is then thy fear; which plain infers
Thy equal fear, that my firm faith and love
Can by his fraud be shaken or seduced;
Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy breast,
Adam, mis-thought of her to thee so dear?
To whom with healing words Adam replied.
Daughter of God and Man, immortal Eve!
For such thou art; from sin and blame entire:
Not diffident of thee do I dissuade
Thy absence from my sight, but to avoid
The attempt itself, intended by our foe.
For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses
The tempted with dishonour foul; supposed
Not incorruptible of faith, not proof
Against temptation: Thou thyself with scorn
And anger wouldst resent the offered wrong,
Though ineffectual found: misdeem not then,
If such affront I labour to avert
From thee alone, which on us both at once
The enemy, though bold, will hardly dare;
Or daring, first on me the assault shall light.
Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn;
Subtle he needs must be, who could ******
Angels; nor think superfluous other’s aid.
I, from the influence of thy looks, receive
Access in every virtue; in thy sight
More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were
Of outward strength; while shame, thou looking on,
Shame to be overcome or over-reached,
Would utmost vigour raise, and raised unite.
Why shouldst not thou like sense within thee feel
When I am present, and thy trial choose
With me, best witness of thy virtue tried?
So spake domestick Adam in his care
And matrimonial love; but Eve, who thought
Less attributed to her faith sincere,
Thus her reply with accent sweet renewed.
If this be our condition, thus to dwell
In narrow circuit straitened by a foe,
Subtle or violent, we not endued
Single with like defence, wherever met;
How are we happy, still in fear of harm?
But harm precedes not sin: only our foe,
Tempting, affronts us with his foul esteem
Of our integrity: his foul esteem
Sticks no dishonour on our front, but turns
Foul on himself; then wherefore shunned or feared
By us? who rather double honour gain
From his surmise proved false; find peace within,
Favour from Heaven, our witness, from the event.
And what is faith, love, virtue, unassayed
Alone, without exteriour help sustained?
Let us not then suspect our happy state
Left so imperfect by the Maker wise,
As not secure to single or combined.
Frail is our happiness, if this be so,
And Eden were no Eden, thus exposed.
To whom thus Adam fervently replied.
O Woman, best are all things as the will
Of God ordained them: His creating hand
Nothing imperfect or deficient left
Of all that he created, much less Man,
Or aught that might his happy state secure,
Secure from outward force; within himself
The danger lies, yet lies within his power:
Against his will he can receive no harm.
But God left free the will; for what obeys
Reason, is free; and Reason he made right,
But bid her well be ware, and still *****;
Lest, by some fair-appearing good surprised,
She dictate false; and mis-inform the will
To do what God expressly hath forbid.
Not then mistrust, but tender love, enjoins,
That I should mind thee oft; and mind thou me.
Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve;
Since Reason not impossibly may meet
Some specious object by the foe suborned,
And fall into deception unaware,
Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warned.
Seek not temptation then, which to avoid
Were better, and most likely if from me
Thou sever not: Trial will come unsought.
Wouldst thou approve thy constancy, approve
First thy obedience; the other who can know,
Not seeing thee attempted, who attest?
But, if thou think, trial unsought may find
Us both securer than thus warned thou seemest,
Go; for thy stay, not fre
(To Ellen Terry)

In the lone tent, waiting for victory,
She stands with eyes marred by the mists of pain,
Like some wan lily overdrenched with rain:
The clamorous clang of arms, the ensanguined sky,
War’s ruin, and the wreck of chivalry
To her proud soul no common fear can bring:
Bravely she tarrieth for her Lord the King,
Her soul a-flame with passionate ecstasy.
O Hair of Gold!  O Crimson Lips!  O Face
Made for the luring and the love of man!
With thee I do forget the toil and stress,
The loveless road that knows no resting place,
Time’s straitened pulse, the soul’s dread weariness,
My freedom, and my life republican!
Valentine Mbagu Sep 2013
The mystery of divinity who can understand,
knowing there is no searching of his understanding.
The understanding of divinity who can comprehend,
knowing his thoughts are beyond human imaginations.
The knowledge of divinity who can tell,
knowing his ways are past finding out.
Behold,
He that turneth the wisdom of wisemen backward having made their knowledge foolish;
knowing he is the wellspring of wisdom.
He that turneth the counsel of Ahithophel into foolishness, having been the counsellor of counsellors.
He that confirmeth the word of his servants,
having performed the counsel of his messengers.
He that frustrateth the tokens of liars, having made diviners mad.
He that walketh upon the sea, having treaded upon the waves of the sea;
knowing the winds are under his control.
He that divideth the river jordan, having divided the red sea.
He that turneth acid into water, having turned water into wine.
He that maketh kings having no king to make him,
and removeth kings; having no king to remove him.
He that changeth the laws of medies and persians; having none to change his laws and commandments.
He that is the father of the fatherless,
having been the husband of the widows.
He that is the beginning and the end,
having been the first and the last.
He that is the King of kings, having been the Lord of lords.
He that is the King of glory having been the gateway of glory.
He that is the Prince of peace, having been the pathway of peace.
He that is the highway of holiness,
having been the roadway of righteousness.
He that is the overseer of overcomers, having been the unchangeable changer.
He that is the highest personality in philosophy,
having been the loftiest idea in literature.
He that is mighty in strength and battle, having great armies under his command.
He that is more precious than gold, having been the treasure of treasures.
He whose eyes are too pure to behold iniquity,
having known the heavens are not even clean enough;
neither the angels worthy to stand before him.
He whose foolishness is wiser than the wisdom of men,
having his weakness stronger than the strength of men.
He whose voice thundereth like lightening having arrayed his throne in excellency and power.
He whose paths are filled with pleasantries having his ways filled with peace.
He that contendeth with him having him to conquer him.
He that questioneth him having him to answer him.
He that hardeneth him having him to forgive him.
He that covereth him with light as garment having covered him with light as glory.
He that sitteth upon the heavens, having the earth as his footstool.
He that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, having the inhabitants thereof as grasshoppers.
He that stretcheth out the heavens like a curtain, having spreaded them out as a tent to dwell in.
He that stretcheth out the north over the empty place, having hanged the earth upon nothing.
He that knoweth the deep thoughts of man, having searched the hearts of men.
He that knoweth the end from the beginning, having been in the beginning.
He that turneth the heart of kings at his will, having their hearts in his hand.
He that calleth those things that be not as though they were, having known they were not.
He that founded the earth upon the seas, having established it upon the floods.
He that foundeth the earth by wisdom, having established the heavens by understanding.
He that holdeth the seven golden candlesticks, having walked in the midst of the seven golden candle sticks.
He that walketh upon the wings of the wind, having made the clouds his chariots.
He that maketh his angels spirits, having made his ministers a flaming fire.
He that ruleth the day by the sun having ruled the night by the stars.
He that liveth and was dead having conquered the power of death; and now liveth forever more.
He that weigheth the waters by measure, having straitened the waters by his breadth.
He that layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters, having watered the earth with rain form his chambers.
He that divideth the sea at his will, having the pillars of heaven to tremble at his reproof.
He that shaketh the earth out of her place, having her pillars to tremble at his anger.
He that openeth having no man to closeand closeth having no man to open.
He that created the heavens and the earth, having created the whole universe.
He that doeth great things past finding out, having his wonders without numbers.
He that rideth upon the chariots of fire, having his garments not consumed.
He that breaketh in pieces the horses and his rider, having broken in pieces the chariots and his rider.
He that have the length of days in his right hand, having riches and wisdom in his left hand.
He that have the key of david having been the keyword of knowledge.

Who is this divinity whose mysteries cannot be explained,
neither
His understanding understood by searching,
nor
His ways comprehended by human reasoning;
He is the

I AM THAT I AM.
Christ, dost Thou live indeed? or are Thy bones
Still straitened in their rock-hewn sepulchre?
And was Thy Rising only dreamed by her
Whose love of Thee for all her sin atones?
For here the air is horrid with men’s groans,
The priests who call upon Thy name are slain,
Dost Thou not hear the bitter wail of pain
From those whose children lie upon the stones?
Come down, O Son of God! incestuous gloom
Curtains the land, and through the starless night
Over Thy Cross a Crescent moon I see!
If Thou in very truth didst burst the tomb
Come down, O Son of Man! and show Thy might
Lest Mahomet be crowned instead of Thee!
Is it thy will that I should wax and wane,
Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey,
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
Whose brightest threads are each a wasted day?

Is it thy will—Love that I love so well—
That my Soul’s House should be a tortured spot
Wherein, like evil paramours, must dwell
The quenchless flame, the worm that dieth not?

Nay, if it be thy will I shall endure,
And sell ambition at the common mart,
And let dull failure be my vestiture,
And sorrow dig its grave within my heart.

Perchance it may be better so—at least
I have not made my heart a heart of stone,
Nor starved my boyhood of its goodly feast,
Nor walked where Beauty is a thing unknown.

Many a man hath done so; sought to fence
In straitened bonds the soul that should be free,
Trodden the dusty road of common sense,
While all the forest sang of liberty,

Not marking how the spotted hawk in flight
Passed on wide pinion through the lofty air,
To where some steep untrodden mountain height
Caught the last tresses of the Sun God’s hair.

Or how the little flower he trod upon,
The daisy, that white-feathered shield of gold,
Followed with wistful eyes the wandering sun
Content if once its leaves were aureoled.

But surely it is something to have been
The best beloved for a little while,
To have walked hand in hand with Love, and seen
His purple wings flit once across thy smile.

Ay! though the gorged asp of passion feed
On my boy’s heart, yet have I burst the bars,
Stood face to face with Beauty, known indeed
The Love which moves the Sun and all the stars!
Jimmy Hegan Feb 2016
Do you feel there is no mercy,
With none to comfort you ?
Come there is a hope for the weary,
Jesus will shepherd you.

No life was offered like Jesus,
Nobody careth like him,
Shedding His life - blood for sinners,
Nobody careth like him.

Are  you  now  straitened and trembling,
None to assuage your fear?
He knows the tears you are shedding,
Jesus doth answer  prayer.

When the night hangs upon your soul,
With guilt of carnal mind,
Look to the Lord Who can make whole ,
Jesus the Saviour kind.

When you are smitten with sickness,
Ailing  with racking pain,
Healing doth show forth His goodness,
Jesus doth ever reign.

Future unknown makes all dismal,
And life an empty dream,
He is the way, life eternal,
Jesus -all Heaven's theme.
NARRATED BY JIMMY S HEGAN
Aaron Mullin Oct 2014
willow of crystal, a poplar of water,
a pillar of fountain by the wind drawn over,
tree that is firmly rooted and that dances,
turning course of a river that goes curving,
advances and retreats, goes roundabout,
arriving forever:
                     the calm course of a star
or the spring, appearing without urgency,
water behind a stillness of closed eyelids
flowing all night and pouring out prophecies,
a single presence in the procession of waves
wave over wave until all is overlapped,
in a green sovereignty without decline
a bright hallucination of many wings
when they all open at the height of the sky,

course of a journey among the densities
of the days of the future and the fateful
brilliance of misery shining like a bird
that petrifies the forest with its singing
and the annunciations of happiness
among the branches which go disappearing,
hours of light even now pecked away by the birds,
omens which even now fly out of my hand,

an actual presence like a burst of singing,
like the song of the wind in a burning building,
a long look holding the whole world suspended,
the world with all its seas and all its mountains,
body of light as it is filtered through agate,
the thighs of light, the belly of light, the bays,
the solar rock and the cloud-colored body,
color of day that goes racing and leaping,
the hour glitters and assumes its body,
now the world stands, visible through your body,
and is transparent through your transparency,

I go a journey in galleries of sound,
I flow among the resonant presences
going, a blind man passing transparencies,
one mirror cancels me, I rise from another,
forest whose trees are the pillars of magic,
under the arches of light I go among
the corridors of a dissolving autumn,

I go among your body as among the world,
your belly the sunlit center of the city,
your ******* two churches where are celebrated
the great parallel mysteries of the blood,
the looks of my eyes cover you like ivy,
you are a city by the sea assaulted,
you are a rampart by the light divided
into two halves, distinct, color of peaches,
and you are saltiness, you are rocks and birds
beneath the edict of concentrated noon

and dressed in the coloring of my desires
you go as naked as my thoughts go naked,
I go among your eyes as I swim water,
the tigers come to these eyes to drink their dreams,
the hummingbird is burning among these flames,
I go upon your forehead as on the moon,
like cloud I go among your imagining
journey your belly as I journey your dream,

your ***** are harvest, a field of waves and singing,
your ***** are crystal and your ***** are water,
your lips, your hair, the looks you give me, they
all night shower down like rain, and all day long
you open up my breast with your fingers of water,
you close my eyelids with your mouth of water,
raining upon my bones, and in my breast
the roots of water drive deep a liquid tree,

I travel through your waist as through a river,
I voyage your body as through a grove going,
as by a footpath going up a mountain
and suddenly coming upon a steep ravine
I go the straitened way of your keen thoughts
break through to daylight upon your white forehead
and there my spirit flings itself down, is shattered
now I collect my fragments one by one
and go on, bodiless, searching, in the dark....

you take on the likeness of a tree, a cloud,
you are all birds and now you are a star,
now you resemble the sharp edge of a sword
and now the executioner's bowl of blood,
the encroaching ivy that over grows and then
roots out the soul and divides it from itself,

writing of fire on the slab of jade,
the cleft in the rock, serpent-goddess and queen,
pillar of cloud, and fountain struck from the stone,
the nest of eagles, the circle of the moon,
the seed of anise, mortal and smallest thorn
that has the power to give immortal pain,
shepherd of valleys underneath the sea
and guardian of the valley of the dead,
liana that hangs at the pitch of vertigo,
climber and bindweed and the venomous plant,
flower of resurrection and grape of life,
lady of the flute and of the lightning-flash,
terrace of jasmine, and salt rubbed in the wound,
a branch of roses for the man shot down,
snowstorm in August, moon of the harrowing,
the writing of the sea cut in basalt,
the writing of the wind upon the desert,
testament of the sun, pomegranate, wheat-ear....

                         life and death
are reconciled in thee, lady of midnight,
tower of clarity, empress of daybreak,
moon ******, mother of all mother liquids,
body and flesh of the world, the house of death,
I have been endlessly falling since my birth,
I fall in my own self, never touch my depth,
gather me in your eyes, at last bring together
my scattered dust, make peace among my ashes,
bind the dismemberment of my bones, and breathe
upon my being, bring me to earth in your earth,
your silence of peace to the intellectual act
against itself aroused;
                         open now your hand
lady of the seeds of life, seeds that are days,
day is an immortality, it rises, it grows,
is done with being born and never is done,
every day is a birth, and every daybreak
another birthplace and I am the break of day,
we all dawn on the day, the sun dawns and
daybreak is the face of the sun....

gate of our being, awaken me, bring dawn,
grant that I see the face of the living day,
grant that I see the face of this live night,
everything speaks now, everything is transformed,
O arch of blood, bridge of our pulse beating,
carry me through to the far side of this night....

gateway of being: open your being, awaken,
learn then to be, begin to carve your face,
develop your elements, and keep your vision
keen to look at my face, as I at yours,
keen to look full at life right through to death,
faces of sea, of bread, of rock, of fountain,
the spring of origin which will dissolve our faces
in the nameless face, existence without face
the inexpressible presence of presences...

I want to go on, to go beyond; I cannot;
the moment scatters itself in many things,
I have slept the dreams of the stone that never dreams
and deep among the dreams of years like stones
have heard the singing of my imprisoned blood,
with a premonition of light the sea sang,
and one by one the barriers give way,
all of the gates have fallen to decay,
the sun has forced an entrance through my forehead,
has opened my eyelids at last that were kept closed,
unfastened my being of its swaddling clothes,
has rooted me out of my self, and separated
me from my animal sleep centuries of stone
and the magic of reflections resurrects
willow of crystal, a poplar of water,
a pillar of fountain by the wind drawn over,
tree that is firmly rooted and that dances,
turning course of a river that goes curving,
advances and retreats, goes roundabout,
arriving forever:

*Mexico 1957
http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1990/paz-bio.html
betterdays Apr 2014
the feathers of hope
float upon the tenebrous air the unfledged girl
unfolds herself
from the straitened maze
in which she mused encumbered
by the remnants
of her former beings

to glance at the promise
of the world composed anew

if she be resolute
in courage
to take grasp of one unblemished pearlescent feather
hold
and then step/ dive /fall
into the flight of a future
unfathomable
and soar
Emotional sequestration perseverates
     across thine time warped
     weft wise wold,
sans interpersonal stagnation

     flourishes as oft twice told
tale amidst derelict hollowed
     moldering sacrificed stranglehold
did potential..., now bankrupt acquaintanceships/

     friendships get out sold
agonizingly excruciatingly
     jujitsu physically writhing
     front row seat occupied -

     whereat direct view of scaffold
penurious adolescent Anorexia Nervosa
     plagued decades prior fraught
     psychological, neurological and illogical

     repercussions steam rolled
      natural heterosexual propensity
     stifling, stinting, and stymying this old
morosely jinxed kerfuffle inciting,

     hermetically heat sealed,
     tightly bound stinging
     straitened yellow jacketed
     bee devilish mold

hogtied hold, pig in the poke,
     xenophobic-ally
     fastened, galvanic hold
wrenching vice grippe
     fiercely extolled sterile lackluster

     human existence devoid cold
hence, imperative ambition
     to act forthright and bold
before advanced age
    finds this wordsmith additionally auld.

This solitary reader quests doth newt plead
per outreach need
without supplicating, lionizing, boot mead
dee eight ting, enticing Nietzscheism lead
me by thine pug nose,

     nor doth this passive heretic - heed
ding perseverance
     without selfishness nor greed
aye only seek to be freed,
where ambivalence to enjoy life exceed

sharing soulful travails yes in deed
foster repartee with persons no matter creed
faith, intelligence, nationality breed
united by state worthy charisma agreed?
George Krokos May 2020
Ah, dear old friend you see now the outcome!
It seems a burden our friendship had become.
Those unforeseen circumstances were to blame
and so had changed all the nature of our game.

The memorable times we both spent together
were a joy to the heart in spite of the weather;
we laughed, sang and even drank some wine
to all appearances everything was going fine.

But then, in just a few moments, now it seems
our relationship turned sour as in bad dreams;
what should've been only a momentary pause
developed into a rift of an unfathomable cause.

Some dormant impressions were re-awakened
of a past life once lived but unfairly straitened;
in those idyllic years towards the prime of life
when most people are set on a husband or wife.

We came across a fork on the road we travelled
that branched in different ways to be unravelled.
The longer we each walked on our separate path
increased the distance between us and aftermath.

A friendship that's mainly based on give and take
could not forever last; as it is found to be a fake.
It needs to be established on a solid foundation
regardless of what's to each other's expectation.

There are times when we should forgive and forget
each other's shortcomings based on mutual respect
and when a person is awakened to a higher calling
doing otherwise is to that person's destiny stalling.
______
Written March, 2020
During our struggle to attain peace
the heavens open,
You can only smile in the soaking rain.

Practices must be underscored
by a narrative they can be subsumed by
if they are to elicit change

in the person, fashion personality or craft persona.
"But I am straitened between two:

Having a desire to be dissolved
and to be with Christ, a thing by far the better.

But to abide still in the flesh, is needful for you".
[Pulvis et] umbra sumus.
(We are [dust and] shadow.)

Those who cannot be rid of the dark
must lean into it.
Mike Adam Feb 2019
The spine
Brittled
Fired watered
Flexible
Floppy
And
Strong

This spine

So straitened

Bent
Tumbling over

This childlike
Trampolining
Body

Flexible brittle broken
Borne above gravity

The spine stiffening
This will
So long
1.

Like a giant chrysanthemum in full bloom,
Carmelite nuns in white habits overflow
the chapel of the Gothic church carved
exquisitely into the Spanish hillside.

Faces averted from the pressing
crowds, voices rising in ethereal
harmony, the nuns sing the world awake,
seeking absolution for its night
of restless sins.

An empty crucifix hangs as the only
stick of imagery on the Spartan,
straitened walls of their cells,
illuminated by a tiny opening
ten feet above the penitent floor.

They would surprise their audience
if its members knew that after
each vespers service, the nuns quickly, quietly
meld into the foreboding night,
sleuths on the trail of their greatest treasure,
the Beloved, who alone can satisfy
their deepest yearning:
abiding union with Him.

2.

Slicing through hedgerows, thickets
and medieval gates; scurrying past pristine gardens
and quiet patios, they flee the convent
in the dark, moving by trust and desire, not sight.

Under a brooding half-moon,
their habits turn slate-gray, as they begin
the spiraling ascent to the peak
of Mount Carmel, where their Beloved awaits.

It is no easy climb. Scrambling, falling,
grabbing low-lying branches to pull
themselves forward. Discalced—shoeless—
they slip and slide, cutting and bruising themselves.
Dehydrated, with no light to guide them,
they fear losing their way.
Knees scuffed, sweating, breathing heavily,
they struggle to stave off chaos and disorder.

3.

The nuns know that the Beloved’s love
for them is their greatest good. And they know
that their natural faculties are inadequate
to achieve the union they desire.
So they must put their senses to sleep, and let
the Beloved’s own virtues guide them up the mountain,
drawing them to Himself through
His power infused into their souls.

To receive Him they must be like Him;
They must be brought to nada inwardly
To be filled with His todo.
This is becoming like for like.
This is how to ascend the heights of Mount Carmel.
This is the mystic vision.

4.

At night, the nuns remain hard at work chasing
their ecstatic dream. In the pre-dawn hours
of the morning, they return to their mundane,
daily post at the convent, selling marzipan
to visitors through a miniscule opening
to the outside world; *****-faced urchins press
against the iron grate, awaiting their turn.

With sensations of the holy pursuit
still freshly imprinted on their minds,
the nuns recognize that this, too — in all its
worldly humility — is part of the mystic vision.

Soon, they will sing the world awake again.
The future swirls steadily
ahead, rocky, uncertain and dim.
Our choices are pre-ordained
for freedom. We cannot
not choose. Creatures squirm
at the paradox. Black and white
no longer grace the color wheel.

Ragged caves beckon as shelter.
Birds take refuge in the tops
of empty trees. Exposed, they
chirp melodically at the moon.
There is no difference between
the road less traveled and its
counterpart. Mirror images,

they recede into the woods
at straitened perspectives.
I walk one alone, scanning
the sky for lasting signs
of the present. They are
blistered by sun spots.
The road veers inward.

Duration drags time out
to the breaking point.
What will be gestates
in what is. Seasons give
birth to a multicolored
brood. Paint them a
monotone grey. Walk on.

— The End —