"thund" poems
That statue of a god, with godly state,
whose clenching fist and arching back expand
to free the thund'rous trident from command,
will hold his step and ever warn and wait.
That statue of a god dares uncreate
that Sculptor of a god, Whose waxen hand,
in image of Himself, prepared to stand
those ankles, feet, and knees that spell his gait.
Gouge out his eyes and skyey senate seat;
his absence reassures Us, Men, the stellar
blanket warms but nameless moons and stars;
that fire that rises from an earthy cellar
lends itself and names it solely Ours,
so that Our liver is Our own to eat.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
Tepid damp and lukewarm night,
Build your camp by rivers bright;
Sable black and and somber grey,
Silt the river's arms away.
Island tenements rent for cheap,
Bakèd bricks in plinths lie deep;
Stores of merchants and their wives,
Sheltered from the thund'rous tides.
Glance on that maternal shrine,
Softly angled toward the Rhine;
See the men with flowing beards,
Seldom entertaining fears.
Moon illumes a stony pose,
Sun sustains a garden rose;
Temple pillars bathed in or,
Leave mute shadows on the floor.
Olifant horns begin to sound,
Tribesmen fall upon the town;
Riding with the northern gust,
Trampling the homes to dust.
Yet, as gateside rocks abound,
From the ashes, rises now,
Where that city met disgrace,
A mighty fortress in its place.
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 2:40 PM UTC
Daughter of Jove, relentless Power,
Thou tamer of the human breast,
Whose iron scourge and tort’ring hour
The Bad affright, afflict the Best!
Bound in thy adamantine chain
The Proud are taught to taste of pain,
And purple Tyrants vainly groan
With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.
When first thy Sire to send on earth
Virtue, his darling child, designed,
To thee he gave the heav’nly Birth,
And bade to form her infant mind.
Stern rugged Nurse! thy rigid lore
With patience many a year she bore:
What sorrow was, thou bad’st her know,
And from her own she learned to melt at others’ woe.
Scared at thy frown terrific, fly
Self-pleasing Folly’s idle brood,
Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy,
And leave us leisure to be good.
Light they disperse, and with them go
The summer Friend, the flatt’ring Foe;
By vain Prosperity received,
To her they vow their truth, and are again believed.
Wisdom in sable garb arrayed
Immersed in rapt’rous thought profound,
And Melancholy, silent maid
With leaden eye, that loves the ground,
Still on thy solemn steps attend:
Warm Charity, the gen’ral Friend,
With Justice, to herself severe,
And Pity dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear.
Oh, gently on thy Suppliant’s head,
Dread Goddess, lay thy chast’ning hand!
Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad,
Not circled with the vengeful Band
(As by the Impious thou art seen),
With thund’ring voice, and threat’ning mien,
With screaming Horror’s funeral cry,
Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty.
Thy form benign, O Goddess, wear,
Thy milder influence impart,
Thy philosophic Train be there
To soften, not to wound my heart.
The gen’rous spark extinct revive,
Teach me to love and to forgive,
Exact my own defects to scan,
What others are, to feel, and know myself a Man.
3.5k
Though thou did’st hear the tempest from afar,
And felt’st the horrors of the wat’ry war,
To me unknown, yet on this peaceful shore
Methinks I hear the storm tumultuous roar,
And how stern Boreas with impetuous hand
Compell’d the Nereids to usurp the land.
Reluctant rose the daughters of the main,
And slow ascending glided o’er the plain,
Till ****** in his rapid chariot drove
In gloomy grandeur from the vault above:
Furious he comes. His winged sons obey
Their frantic sire, and madden all the sea.
The billows rave, the wind’s fierce tyrant roars,
And with his thund’ring terrors shakes the shores:
Broken by waves the vessel’s frame is rent,
And strows with planks the wat’ry element.
But thee, Maria, a kind Nereid’s shield
Preserv’d from sinking, and thy form upheld:
And sure some heav’nly oracle design’d
At that dread crisis to instruct thy mind
Things of eternal consequence to weigh,
And to thine heart just feelings to convey
Of things above, and of the future doom,
And what the births of the dread world to come.
From tossing seas I welcome thee to land.
“Resign her, Nereid,” ’twas thy God’s command.
Thy spouse late buried, as thy fears conceiv’d,
Again returns, thy fears are all reliev’d:
Thy daughter blooming with superior grace
Again thou see’st, again thine arms embrace;
O come, and joyful show thy spouse his heir,
And what the blessings of maternal care!
2.1k
Bells that chime with malcontent
shall toll the sounds of dread.
Whistles cry with detriment;
the hour of death's ahead.
Fields are razed, and valleys hazed;
miasma shall ensue.
Mountains crumble; end of days
rides 'pon the heels of doom.
Death has come for everyone;
no cornerstone unturned.
Putrefy to purify;
with blood, your lakes shall churn.
Sanctity's naught but a dream;
rescind your factions few.
It's all for one to come undone,
and all shall burn with you.
Clouds aflame, for in His name
the sky comes thund'ring down.
And when this land rests in His hand,
He'll take our throne and crown.
Tyrant-force with no remorse;
from out the sea, He'll rise.
He leads His thrall to conquer all,
with fire in His eyes.
Apocalypse shall head the Styx;
the river shall run high.
And to the banks, you stand in ranks
and heed Lord Charon's cry,
"File in, all ye of sin."
His cackles crack the trees.
*"Thy Earth undone, my kingdom come.
Now sunder unto me."*
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC
My head is filled with black-striped bees
Bizzing and buzzing as they please
The world's a thund'ring 'fall
Roaring its loud call
Life's a tornado
Then I see
Silence
You
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 12:06 PM UTC
Autumnal joy floats on the wind: it blows
A woodwind section through the buzzing leaves,
And gently rattles red arpeggios
That harmonise with mournful semibreves
Of ageing branches creaking in the breeze.
The forest spirits collectively moan.
Without the crunch of thund’rous symphonies
The rain can ****** on a xylophone:
The surface of a hidden woodland pond
Where all the stepping stones are so arranged
As keys of limestone next to keys of slate.
And all around the silence is estranged
And till the snow of winter has to wait.
We wave our sticks at where the air has thinned
And call ourselves composers of the wind.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 3:58 PM UTC
I was Crom Dubh once,
Buried in the mound,
I was the Dagda once,
My club across the land,
I was Bran the Blessed once,
My head beneath the hill,
I was Kronos once,
My stone sickle in the sky,
I was Osiris once,
My body across the land,
I was Odin once,
Ygg was I once,
Ere that I was Thund,
Who am I?
~Muninn's Kiss, January, 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC
(lyrics)
exposed emotions
blister 'neath
your numbing gaze
of indifference
that roars
in thund'rous waves
to crash upon
the battered shores
of my heart
exposed emotions
drivin' me insane
their hungry voices
screaming in my head
behold a night wind
leads me
to a place...
where dangerous visions
softly tread
take my heart
take my soul
take anything you want
dont take my sons
take my heart
take my soul
take my life if you must
just dont take my sons
dont take my sons
exposed emotions
out of control
a raging firestorm
burning thru my soul
behold a storm wind
carries me away
where crimson rivers
twist and bend...
on these endless
desert sands
cover me in shades
of golden brown
a trackless dune
in desert lands
where crimson rivers
twist and bend
twist and bend
in these bitter
endless sands
take my heart
take my soul
take anything you want
dont take my sons
take my heart
take my soul
take my life
if you must
i'm under your thumb
you've got the gun
pic poem
http://oi68.tinypic.com/65bwhz.jpg
- (Original Poem) -
exposed emotions
blazing like a firestorm
'neath a bright indifferent sun
life's blood flowing freely
from wounds beyond repair
falling wetly to the ground
where crimson rivers pool
in shades of golden brown
hungrily devoured
yet never tasted
by these endless
desert sands....
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 4:43 PM UTC
[attempts at Shakespearean sonnet form]
If spring is daylight dawning on the night,
Then you are March's unforgiving snow;
When time of year has come for evenings bright,
You are the clouded sky which eastward blows.
With rolling thund’rous clouds you come to rest
Upon the blameless springtime of my heart;
And wither baby blossoms in my chest,
Unwelcomed winter snowing ‘gainst its part.
Caught in the wake of unforetold advance,
I’m naked and defenseless with you there;
Prepared for longer days of spring romance,
I'm burned by icy tempest of your air.
But snow knows not what time of year he falls,
It is but chance of when the weather calls.
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 4:07 PM UTC
In fits of rage and fury, with fists bruised and broke,
We clashed in thund’rous lightning, but forgot what we spoke.
I tried to be the big man, to be better than the rest,
But “better” isn’t what you wanted…you already liked me best.
I said, and said, and said; but you saw what wasn’t spoken.
Now my heart is bruised and ****** my soul is spent and broken.
Now I bleed upon this page, in inky fits of rage and sorrow;
And scare away the security I put into tomorrow.
What good is life to live, when those things you crave are rotted?
How well can man behave when his life is blacked and spotted?
What fate is overcome from picking just the best?
What gives us rights to toss aside…abandon…all the rest?
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 3:04 PM UTC
Pour, pour! The *** is half empty.
•Leave my water!
° Here, a fish from my spear.
Clap, clap! The back of my hands hurts.
•Leave my water!
°Your hands would fit in mine.
Clutch, clutch! Her bare feet upon land.
•Leave my water! .
°I'd hold your life's loads.
Thund, splash. Water sinks beneath sand.
•Leave my water! I warned.
° No wonder, I will kneel before your old man.
****** thump! She desired her hands on my neck.
• The chiefs will hear, the clan's curse shall dwell upon you. Had you only leave my water!
° Shall I never appear before the light of day, you knew my hands would make you a gold *** and carry you crystal water.
Flap, flip! There she fades, left water in my lungs. Shall I had leave her water.
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 4:51 AM UTC