"trialed" poems
We're forced, each man, to walk a trialed path—
resisted trek, uphill through blinding daze
that shrouds with crucible's perplexing haze
till fog-white skies yield quick to black clouds' wrath.
Affliction brims a thorny pack to bear
whilst dewy darkness drenches in the night,
but where is calming lamp to lend us sight?
And who will come to give us saving care?
Here through veil is heard a whisper certain,
then o'er the mountain creeps the dawning day
and with clear eyes we see the brume give way
as God retracts His theatre's curtain,
unsheathing velvet waves whose morning sheen
beyond grey mist splays vast and wondrous green.
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 12:51 AM UTC
ive seen the world all people same
we love we fear, deprived, insane
absolute mass and no division for the HQ supervision
we are Trialed in side by solicitude at night
blindfolded OF!
superiority of those that are biting in our nose
medicating under-eighteen that appear so differently
and thus don't reap the boredom we are destined to live through
im sorry that I'm different
and I'm sorry that I speak
for the nation of the flowers
all fragile but not weak
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 7:33 PM UTC
"Oh, murmur, murmur me again to peace!"
(from the libretto of Handel's Semele -
opera.stanford.edu/iu/libretti/semele.htm)
think of your ears as an
ever alert, high pitched,
sensory tuning fork,
an aural radar, searching for that
acute, oblique,
perforating and poking phrase,
that lost airplane of solace
buried and too well hid
in the vastness of
empty, characterless searchable seas
that rarely yield up their
comforting finery
when discovered, tripped upon,
instant recognition pleads
"write me down,
write me up,
delve me,
determine me,
make me more!"
t'is a thrumming vibrato
interfering with mind,
that phrase, that phrase, that phrase
"Oh, murmur, murmur me again to peace!"
content coursing through the eyes,
piercing veils of hum drum dumbing down,
a life spying drone eliciting excitedly
a high value target,
an unexpected mission,
camouflaged amidst the
chit chat droning of the
choking ordinary and commonplace
*murmur me, with soft downy charms,
these words discovered
recoursed and intended well to
pointedly offset and contradict
their very own
tumultuous discovery uncovering,
tear tongue me
with calming, lapping word wages,
hymns harmonious and fine homilies,
a call, a request,
a bequest
to sedate my shrill life,
You
murmur me again to peace*
even the words
be prepared to sacrifice, surrender,
but promise me that
the Justice of
-just-
thy tone,
thy inflections,
will gentle
the infecting turbulence
of being a plain, tried and trialed human
let me not
catalogue the onerous,
the burdening barbell weights,
we carry for no purpose
Give us
our daily bread of a singular
phrase~prayer~poem,
our verbal bond, modest sequest,
honey oatmeal, cut up strawberried
jewel,
give it, me this day,
my daily soothing
"Oh, murmur, murmur me again to peace!"
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 8:24 AM UTC
Many stories are written
Only some are true
But from my lips come truthfulness
As I share my dreams with you.
I have been through many trialed times
As my lovers love and then leave
Too many tears have fallen
Too many to ever conceive.
Then came the day
When love bestowed
A heart so warm and kind
The heart that I've been looking for
Yet never thought I'd find.
And now that it's been found, my dear
I'm never letting go
I've lots of love inside of me
And to only you I'll show.
But be careful of my naive heart
For it breaks so very easy
I only ask for love and trust
It don't take much to please me.
My dreams have finally happened
My dreams have finally come true
I've found a place called paradise
When I found the one called you.
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 3:01 PM UTC
How many times
must my mind
bury you, and my
heart keep you alive?
How adept at shattering
and gathering must I
become, before the work
that was said unto us,
trialed thus...cease?
Breath is the sound that
answers that silence...no matter
what, I cherish your breath
as you cherish mine.
There are some things as
dear as breath...though they
may come and go.
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 11:22 PM UTC
Of no time and place...
save for due Truest North
of no time and place...a kindled
air as such...never a Draconian
night layeth upon...O Hyperborea.
Muse of Muse...whose tacit glory
begot lip and lyre...illumined
wholes that sayeth verily unto
illumined wholes.
Unbroken gaiety...where the only
obscuration's the recesses of
witnesses in full bearing...Beauty's
Knowing...Knowable Beauty.
O Hyperborea...as light, lighteth...
yet lit be not--high heaped upon
high, celebrants of whir and fire...
fire and whir...whir and fire!
Thou danceth a sun's one-upmanship,
to emblazon the dreams of Thracian
peoples.
That the world may know, and know
well...the north wind...of no time
and place--due Truest North of no
time and place...be kindled by
Apollonian graces.
As an urn contains what's trialed by
fire, as fire...Beauty unbridled...poureth
forth under the Hyperborean sun...
never to casteth a shadow.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 1:01 PM UTC
Incompossible
<>
not mutually possible:
INCONSISTENT, INCOMPATIBLE
<>
inconsistent, yes,
incompatible, never
*we have lived and loved
each other since
a singular moment
in grade school
profound!
(what a perfect compositional word!)
friendship, intuitively embraced,
circumstances dictated an
on/off interspersed
coexistence decades in length,
a hit or miss geographical
distancing,
thst technology overcame
with no evaporative loss
of
sensational connectivity
across great times and
greater distances
we trialed and
errored our landlines,
for a time,
we lived together,
then nearby,
with other spouses, who knew
and tolerated, our exceptional
to the rules of coexistences,
we were closer than close,
the space between us was of wafer size, nearly invisible to the naked eyes of others, but unchanging
as much as it was unique and
uncharted
periods of absence of years measurable
and the first conversation
began exactly where the long ago prior had ceased
never fully accepted,
surely not ever
fully
tolerated + understood,
we stumbled upon a word,
incompossible
that captured the
drama, the hopefulness,
the hopelessness of
our separated conjoining
as a summary perfect
of us
a true tale,
a novel of pro-found
loss and gain
that cannot be be told
or totaled,
a sum of summary,
an unavowed marriage of
souls with no legality,
and yet
by its very in-completed nature,
it was perfected by it's very unending undefinable defiance
of definition:
we made the
incompossible,
possible,
the incompatible,
patible,
unfounded by circumstances,
unbounded in our intuition,
we yet live in a hopeful
state of unfulfilled totality of*
almost fufillment
May 30, 2025
May 30, 2025 at 2:23 PM UTC
I tripped along the railroad tracks
trying to escape from your trespasses of my trust;
trotting t'wards that treasure I hid
on a trail beyond those trees there.
Triggered by treachery, the truth in these tribulations
trialed and errored and transformed..
Tricky triumph, trifle *****
I tripped along the railroad tracks.
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 3:39 AM UTC
A stranger,
I thought I had met before,
when we had just crossed paths,
or made love on the same floor?
For I wasn't very sure,
about the dress, that day I wore,
or if we had rushed through those doors.
Same stranger,
sets his golden eyes on my face,
or was his gaze sliding lower, bit lower.
I could tell, this was that place,
for how his fingers trialed,
where his stare had been laid,
I thought this moment would fade.
Stranger's eyes,
telling me to close my eyes,
for his cold fingers knew the way,
to the growing sinful skies.
Not anymore, I could hear or see,
for the stranger had hypnotized me,
I had read his eyes when only,
he could see me.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 12:03 AM UTC
We've been scorched and trialed
Scarred beyond recognition
Bruised beyond repair
But we've shed our skin to become
Masters of our own disguises...
Scars line our bodies
Intertwining like a mysterious vine
Lacing together in jagged harmony
Intricate like a hidden beauty within itself..
Some were received from battle
More received from the battle within
From the depths of the darkness
Haunting the forgotten graves
Lost in the whispering wind..
Our skin's a masterpiece
Covered in red, black, and blue
But is it the color of glory
Or of shame
Of fear
Of the silent shadows still living within us...
Are we truly soldiers
Or simply ones without a cause
Lost in the sounds of chaos
For eternity to endure...
Our scars tell our stories
But are they the ones being heard
Or are our silent screams
Lost in the unforgiving wind
In the depths of time itself?
Then truly,
Do these scars,
Our story
Mean anything
At all ....
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 4:20 PM UTC
Today I lie homeless,
living empty out of cash,
Today I lie hopeless,
thinking of how long will it last,
Today I taste the feeling of those deprived,
Will it make you want to leave
or would you stay and remain
fighting through my plight,
How deep is your love?
Today our meals came from picking in the trash?
We are starving yet filled from all this pressure,
As a couple we lie in trouble
but as for you, is this make you love me lesser?
Today we are bare sheltered in the cold streets,
will you still be happy and watch up over me,
in which ways will you react?
will you still be here or disappear in a flash,
How deep is your love?
Today I've hit rock bottom
dwelling in the depths of poverty
Today all smiles turned solemn
do my downfalls keep you from loving me?
Living through these trialed times,
in which everything has failed to mold,
will you let every piece of fall apart,
or still have me to hold?
Because honestly as of now,
I've hit the peak of my downfall,
Stumbling, down tumbling,
to crumbling giving it my all,
Aside from you ,
I'm shunned away from world of pleasures,
caught up in the mix
trying to get it things back together,
What if we were in absence,
to these moments of bliss,
would I be dismissed,
or in your eyes still exist?
How deep is your love?..
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 9:17 PM UTC
When the books of bold close cold on you
And the results bend nether way
With a hopeful truth speak Carpe diem
Don’t wait to seize the day
When the months of old turn back to you
And the dew of springtime stays
With your shoulders shake the dawn anew
In the chaos find a way
When you’re home to pass midst summers last
And the memories fade away
Speak Carpe diem non differas
Don’t wait to seize the day
When your merit is tested on the field
And the court of your kingdom sways
When your trialed life becomes the sim
In the chaos find a way
Because you’ll never have what you have now
And no time will ever stay
This precious, blessed, life to pass
Don’t wait to seize the day
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
of all the names to keep in sight
yours are the sharpest
denoise and watch us reunite
the ones that are just
belittled, fleeing underbreath
the rathe arrivers
recount the signs that have been dealt
a lifetime prior
trialed with love on better times
fruitlessly frantic
for apter notes or fitter rhymes
some order, planted
uncoiling subjects from your hand
as if you're equal
in reach for the desicion-man
the drudging eagle.
keep dancing on your master's knees
no questions uttered
miss not to arm yourself with these
heels bent to cut her
denoise and ler her understand
this aimless evil
in reach for the desicion-man
the taunted eagle.
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 6:09 PM UTC
Some day's are sad,
some are bad,
some days are happy,
some are ******
But a smile on the face,
can make you feel like an ace.
So just try,
instead of wondering why.
each day is different so give it your best,
think of it as you being trialed for a test.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 9:20 PM UTC
i got older again
not any wiser though,
just a little bit sadder.
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 2:59 PM UTC
“Remember when we used to pour our own milk in Starbucks? I miss those days,” one patron wrote nostalgically on X earlier this month... Now in the process of getting reinstatement…
<>
oddity sujet for a poeme. and it begs with
hidden overtones even, for an overture, please,
even the babes&big babies among us with barely a decade to call their own,
long for the un~
complicated places, days, even the moments
momentous that will resonate evermore,
even the most favored nation of that stuffed
animal, that cannot be dismissed, discarded,
who will join them in their no loco parenting of a
snug single of a freshman doormroom,
with no shame, when the hungry boys are
permitted entry to the chamber, blushing from the hopefulness's of potency of
getting first lucky,
foolishly sarcastic remarking on
this sad sacred animal presence, and being subsequently serviley, quick dismissed,
with a stupid,wry twisty, puzzled squared landing on their mouth, where the just sensed
**passionate kisses will ow/now
never arrive**
yes, nostalgic
commences amidst the multiple in ~ puts
from early days, ever on,
sorted, filed, systematically,
in a system greater than the
dewey decimal of our libraries
and we experimented with
numerous pours of variable quantities
of
various “milks”
lesson taught when the station is unbusy,
and cute yong men offer helpful hints,
calorically, nutrient-wise, taste varietals,
and leaving a phone number
on the wax container of the
trialed oat milk
which is so a
thing
hard to miss, hard to lose
perhaps this instant of rapture rappore
will lead to a long life,
maybe till spring semester when
you,
a saturated years older
slightly more cautious,
*and yet^
after a hundred nyets,
in a San Fran Starbucks,
near the first job,
it happens, and memories are
rejiggered, restoring priorities
andy
don’t tell nobody
that stuffed animal
is resting comfortably
on her bedroom
in an apt.
Shared with two others,
To all entering, holy of holies,
as a prescreening no~tech
stuffed, well hugged
animal device will
assign a
pass/fail grade
Nov 16, 2024
Nov 16, 2024 at 7:25 AM UTC
I gotta tell you not to miss those times cause we'll be missing our whole lives. If you gain deep sadness for the past it's sometimes greeted with sharp knives.
Like when I learned of **** at native boarding schools or watched a peaceful protest met with fists.
I'm not sure if I should **** myself or grow extremely ******
I'm paralyzed with grief but need to turn it into action.
I feel as though I've been caught in a great illusion of greed and satisfaction. When distance is measured in numbers, it seems so far away.
But all this **** is here and now, it's happening each day.
Where should I really point the gun and when will I be trialed?
Long before the man who bluffed about abusing his wife and child. Where's the real justice here? In this backwards, ****** up place?
We're forced into such confines due to our gender and race.
Today is the day I break the chains, I think I'm going to snap.
No one's safe until you get out, until then it's all a trap.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:00 AM UTC
there is beauty in innocent intelligence
where the elder sister disturb the younger sister through the window i of class
just so that they can go back earlier
through the changing times of the world
and the storm of wild emotions
it is warm to know that life as humans ages and eons ago, likely shared the same experiences and innocent amusing through the times and ages
we cant ever escape our emotion but rather should deal with it
one way or another
we will never know how
there is just so many ways to handle
all most likely already been explored or trialed
it might work or not
we will not know
through the world
beyond innocent laugher and simple joy
the darkness and terror eludes
how can we stay pure and not judge with such
or how can we be a terror but find pureness
life and human world
is a wildy conflicting place
how can we know for sure
what is what
Jun 11, 2023
Jun 11, 2023 at 12:47 AM UTC