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"transcendentally" poems
They said the fairest of the goddesses Was the one to give us love, The one to fetch the maidens And bring the boys their girls. What they meant by fair was beautiful, Not just or right or equitable, For it hardly seems fair That she's a goddess, Enthroned on a mountain with a mirror in her hand And we're all of us mere mortals, Hapless humans, With our ribcages wide open, With no bone to shield our vulnerable ventricles And no sense to tell us to cover our chests. It's no wonder that this otherworldly seduction Can ****** us And string us along And consume us Until we forget what life was Before love caught us. It seems impossible That these frail, impermanent bodies Can hold such ethereal infatuation; It's too strong, So it ravages us, Strips away dignity, Rips away common sense, And seizes all control. Our little human selves Never stood a chance. Tell me, Aphrodite, Does it make you laugh to watch us struggle? From your lofty vantage point, Do you giggle when the rational become foolish, When the thinkers become unfocused, When the innocent become broken? Does it please your fair reflection When those devoted mortals go to ungodly lengths For this love that you inflict, Until they have nothing left of themselves, Until they're worn to the very bones That couldn't protect their unsuspecting hearts? Do you revel in the irony, Aphrodite, When, exhausted and dejected And downright tortured, They still worship you? When they bow And sacrifice In gratitude? When we miserable mortals Thank you for these feelings that destroy us, Because for tiny moments We felt transcendentally good. Perhaps she'd had better intentions, That goddess Aphrodite, Thought that she was filling our open hearts With something to give them meaning. Maybe she thought We'd left our ribcages open on purpose, That we'd all simply been waiting for her, Wondering when she'd reach down her power And give us a love to cling to. Or, It could be that she had it right, That our chests were left gaping And our hearts were left empty So that Aphrodite could look away from her mirror, Smile from the clouds, And send us someone to make us whole.
0
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 6:39 PM UTC
Aphrodite
They said the fairest of the goddesses Was the one to give us love, The one to fetch the maidens And bring the boys their girls. What they meant by fair was beautiful, Not just or right or equitable, For it hardly seems fair That she's a goddess, Enthroned on a mountain with a mirror in her hand And we're all of us mere mortals, Hapless humans, With our ribcages wide open, With no bone to shield our vulnerable ventricles And no sense to tell us to cover our chests. It's no wonder that this otherworldly seduction Can ****** us And string us along And consume us Until we forget what life was Before love caught us. It seems impossible That these frail, impermanent bodies Can hold such ethereal infatuation; It's too strong, So it ravages us, Strips away dignity, Rips away common sense, And seizes all control. Our little human selves Never stood a chance. Tell me, Aphrodite, Does it make you laugh to watch us struggle? From your lofty vantage point, Do you giggle when the rational become foolish, When the thinkers become unfocused, When the innocent become broken? Does it please your fair reflection When those devoted mortals go to ungodly lengths For this love that you inflict, Until they have nothing left of themselves, Until they're worn to the very bones That couldn't protect their unsuspecting hearts? Do you revel in the irony, Aphrodite, When, exhausted and dejected And downright tortured, They still worship you? When they bow And sacrifice In gratitude? When we miserable mortals Thank you for these feelings that destroy us, Because for tiny moments We felt transcendentally good. Perhaps she'd had better intentions, That goddess Aphrodite, Thought that she was filling our open hearts With something to give them meaning. Maybe she thought We'd left our ribcages open on purpose, That we'd all simply been waiting for her, Wondering when she'd reach down her power And give us a love to cling to. Or, It could be that she had it right, That our chests were left gaping And our hearts were left empty So that Aphrodite could look away from her mirror, Smile from the clouds, And send us someone to make us whole.
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70
As I climb each step slowly, I'm getting higher. Transcendentally.
0
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 3:09 AM UTC
Stairs (Haiku)
Transported by the waves of sound so transcendentally human I am swallowed, surrounded The basses are an ocean swell the tenors, a hull of solid oak. We stand upon the altos’ sturdy deck, gaze upwards at soprano sails swollen with song What strange creatures we, to join and mingle so to vanish in the whole. This ritual enacted for this God, or that has outlived immortals and still floods with lifeblood Anu, Enlil, Enki, Baal, dived divinely in the sea of song and vanished. Forgotten gods adrift in harmony, in melody And while I wish all gods forgotten I would abase myself before Jehovah’s golden toes to be a part of this eternal choir.
0
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 12:54 PM UTC
Feral Choir
Transcendentally existential in-extremis extremity nuance.  Vicinity victual vigilante villain.  Propinquity habitation harbinger harangued.  Clairaudience clairvoyance agilely dexterous acuity, tactile coordination.  Feral phrenic frenzied ****  Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma.  29th Psalm some holy spirit, the angel was a vision of resplendent beauty as it hovered in mid air above the knoll.  Apex axis crux and citadel pinnacle's peak.  And yet I would distance traveled time spent like to mitigate this of in to you.  What then is the essence of metaphysical mystique.  I say lets ethereally sublime be mesmerically enrapturing.  Ecstatically euphoric and climactically ********  Let your vicarious recalcitrance revel in the prolific profuseness of my profundity as we lavish in our wanton abandon.  Though paw flaw laws are to claws aimed craw, horsefeathers are more proficient and surreal on the salaciously seductive.
0
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 1:50 AM UTC
Febrile Fertility's Fecundity
a bean or a pod having motivation inside recreating life more energetic and clever than any parent then get ate or flushed down ten million toilets infiltrate society with words because it is in sewers sanguine and quixotic indifferent a breath is toxic to me I venture Walter Mitty like fantasies theorize tomorrow when I forgot yesterday, introduce substances to discourse entertainers abstract the emphasis transcendentally blue-sky enterprises authentically created as I turn around and cry.
0
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
would a could a been
Eros: the days leap as they should, over serrated blades of grass: brightly, transcendentally. i open the voluminous page of the twilight: it is October bruised with brindled water. white is the color of your laughter, nourishing the noise of heart, crumpled over the virginal sheet. in the staring mirror dizzy with life, shining with a sudden image in sempiternal fume: both of us, twining, entering each other even before the world was complete, heavy with your hair, lithe with your embrace, eyes gorged with naked visions, hands flayed, full of hours— i make your ample sea my scarce wave's anchorage, erasing the twinge by habit of shores. i weep: you are filling the world with your own light now drowning the shadows in the depths of their caves, choking the silence, wringing out the leafage of your body's inflorescence. in vivid decree of your smile, you have made me the cargo of minutes rummaging across the dunes of lust: the tousled sheets, nearing, coming to me, swarming soft body: we fell into the hollow of sleep. Thanatos: here at the lip of the bed receiving our smallness, the days— felled into the night, stilled, in this finite hour a darker blue is given; i speak not of love. how are we alive here? raining inward, above the brim of an open window, do you wind-hover? your voice has escaped the dungeon of my mouth, and the twining of our fingers give birth to a forest of specters and a moonless love demanded. i beat through your harsh curve; i go tracing your eyebrow engulfed in the festering fever of half-light marches and the faint spark of autumn leaving no tawny scent— there is only silence peregrinating in the room before you and after I, it began to pour in our room, both of us struck down to mortals together with a feint recall i cannot parry: we fell into a bottomless hollow of eyes, chasing our chained breaths, wordless.
0
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 3:31 AM UTC
Eros | Thanatos
Eros: the days leap as they should, over serrated blades of grass: brightly, transcendentally. i open the voluminous page of the twilight: it is October bruised with brindled water. white is the color of your laughter, nourishing the noise of heart, crumpled over the virginal sheet. in the staring mirror dizzy with life, shining with a sudden image in sempiternal fume: both of us, twining, entering each other even before the world was complete, heavy with your hair, lithe with your embrace, eyes gorged with naked visions, hands flayed, full of hours— i make your ample sea my scarce wave's anchorage, erasing the twinge by habit of shores. i weep: you are filling the world with your own light now drowning the shadows in the depths of their caves, choking the silence, wringing out the leafage of your body's inflorescence. in vivid decree of your smile, you have made me the cargo of minutes rummaging across the dunes of lust: the tousled sheets, nearing, coming to me, swarming soft body: we fell into the hollow of sleep. Thanatos: here at the lip of the bed receiving our smallness, the days— felled into the night, stilled, in this finite hour a darker blue is given; i speak not of love. how are we alive here? raining inward, above the brim of an open window, do you wind-hover? your voice has escaped the dungeon of my mouth, and the twining of our fingers give birth to a forest of specters and a moonless love demanded. i beat through your harsh curve; i go tracing your eyebrow engulfed in the festering fever of half-light marches and the faint spark of autumn leaving no tawny scent— there is only silence peregrinating in the room before you and after I, it began to pour in our room, both of us struck down to mortals together with a feint recall i cannot parry: we fell into a bottomless hollow of eyes, chasing our chained breaths, wordless.
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56
roiling voices ruling air waves in rhythm of glorious powers joy overflowing in rivers running happiness in rampaging cataracts creating blissful glory in the cavorting blissful sky hey, honey running in rivers of joy in once-upon-a-time sorrow-ravaged stage lions of joy now roaring melodious victory inflating balloon of glory deflating balloon of shame ballad of joy the heavenly orchestra on carnival aisle ballooned glory in explosion in festive skies of infinite unlocked love rushing us transcendentally into infinite blue sky.
0
Jan 20, 2022
Jan 20, 2022 at 4:51 AM UTC
infinite glory
everytime i smoke i float or maybe i’m reminded so like how I’m spinning with earth though I try to get transcendentally motionless
0
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 2:28 AM UTC
Untitled
terrified again of speaking of speaking but the words not coming of speaking and the words coming but not reaching of speaking and the words coming reaching but losing all significance upon arrival as if they had wings but no feet to stand on and so were always already destined for crash landing—and lo, what flights of folly. was i seen and heard and perceived for what i really am? unknown. if anything is clear: i must learn to listen harder if i am ever even to dream of truly speaking: this itself is what it is to think. these things are most difficult of all: (not to scorn, mock, or despair at human action, but) to understand to be kind to yourself to pledge your body to the Idea to persist in being                            kind to yourself. all Ideas have been betrayed. a philosopher says: all the world will ever offer you is the temptation to surrender. the ethical act is to resist to transgress the transcendentally stupid cruel law of this world. there will be risk, there will be laceration, and anguish but no one moment is unendurable. mieux vaut un désastre qu'un désêtre. and so what might become of us? imagine the most beautiful being in all of existence and you'll almost be there. i know nothing of love that is not an extension of the sun. i have become light. i know nothing but fascination. what chance to have laughed and danced and to go on. our song will never end: it will only be taken up by other instruments. i have become light. all that is lost returns in altered form: disguised, transfigured. we will be transfigured. what you seek is seeking you. how certain i was the dark would find no end!—and lo, i have become light. stronger than time. a site of communication, ecstatic love, art in the eye of god. a dancing star. i have become light. what chance! —i and all the others that will love you forever and forever and forever— what chance to have laughed and danced and to go on.
0
Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 6:00 PM UTC
givingness
terrified again of speaking of speaking but the words not coming of speaking and the words coming but not reaching of speaking and the words coming reaching but losing all significance upon arrival as if they had wings but no feet to stand on and so were always already destined for crash landing—and lo, what flights of folly. was i seen and heard and perceived for what i really am? unknown. if anything is clear: i must learn to listen harder if i am ever even to dream of truly speaking: this itself is what it is to think. these things are most difficult of all: (not to scorn, mock, or despair at human action, but) to understand to be kind to yourself to pledge your body to the Idea to persist in being                            kind to yourself. all Ideas have been betrayed. a philosopher says: all the world will ever offer you is the temptation to surrender. the ethical act is to resist to transgress the transcendentally stupid cruel law of this world. there will be risk, there will be laceration, and anguish but no one moment is unendurable. mieux vaut un désastre qu'un désêtre. and so what might become of us? imagine the most beautiful being in all of existence and you'll almost be there. i know nothing of love that is not an extension of the sun. i have become light. i know nothing but fascination. what chance to have laughed and danced and to go on. our song will never end: it will only be taken up by other instruments. i have become light. all that is lost returns in altered form: disguised, transfigured. we will be transfigured. what you seek is seeking you. how certain i was the dark would find no end!—and lo, i have become light. stronger than time. a site of communication, ecstatic love, art in the eye of god. a dancing star. i have become light. what chance! —i and all the others that will love you forever and forever and forever— what chance to have laughed and danced and to go on.
Continue reading...
71
It’s happening all too fast, I must find a place to sit. Entrapped within the strangest hour, I lie here divorced from sleep. Thus plagued and miserable, life is excruciatingly nauseating. Reacting transcendentally at the fear of turning ill, Firing up The cauldron of insomnia, welcoming it to slaughter any rest. Sleepless miseries fleeing in vain, in fleeting days so easily forgotten. Muddled in a search to find quintessential moments, to etch some memories, To find a beacon that saves the day, convincing me that there is meaning. A pale dark sky, a fading moon shining for its final few hours. For what I see in these bounded moments is fated for an interminable end. As I already know the hours will pass by, the sky will be gone, only I will remain. Why is it that I am always out of time? As I do nothing and relentlessly wait. Yet there is one comfort, one hidden hour which is now. As I feel unbounded, Free, being able to write and comfortably sigh. For this hour is solely mine. In this hour I find some peace in thinking of you, I see you as I close my eyes.
0
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 1:01 AM UTC
Sleepless Misery
Transcendentally existential in-extremis extremity nuance.  Vicinity victual vigilante villain.  Propinquity habitation harbinger harangued.  Clairaudience clairvoyance agilely dexterous acuity, tactile coordination.  Feral phrenic frenzied ****  Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma.  29th Psalm some holy spirit, the angel was a vision of resplendent beauty as it hovered in mid air above the knoll.  Apex axis crux and citadel pinnacle's peak.  And yet I would distance traveled time spent like to mitigate this of in to you.  What then is the essence of metaphysical mystique.  I say lets ethereally sublime be mesmerically enrapturing.  Ecstatically euphoric and climactically ********  Let your vicarious recalcitrance revel in the prolific profuseness of my profundity as we lavish in our wanton abandon.  Though paw flaw laws are to claws aimed craw, horsefeathers are more proficient and surreal on the salaciously seductive.
0
Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 11:42 PM UTC
Febrile Fertility's Fecundities
today i feel quite alive how exquisitely dear that this ****** composition and each soul in their position ushers me to tears today i feel quite alive how transcendentally clear that this world we inhabit composes peace amongst rapids and boy do i love being here so to my people who love and to my people who see know to endure and continue to be be well, bcb
0
May 12, 2020
May 12, 2020 at 4:04 PM UTC
Arcane Parting .4