"unalterable" poems
Miss Nancy Ellicott
Strode across the hills and broke them,
Rode across the hills and broke them—
The barren New England hills—
Riding to hounds
Over the cow-pasture.
Miss Nancy Ellicott smoked
And danced all the modern dances;
And her aunts were not quite sure how they felt about it,
But they knew that it was modern.
Upon the glazen shelves kept watch
Matthew and Waldo, guardians of the faith,
The army of unalterable law.
6.1k
I
I greeted you, my inevitable day
In this shaky firmness of my hands;
Assuring me of my weakness; the languidity of my serene constitution.
The sky smeared with fright,undeed, and look, hark to how the sun closed the night!
This was but unpalatable dew, misty in its impatient greyness
Avidity for genuine sorrow and late confessions
The calm heart then wronged, and soon the war touched the light!
II
Beware of love, o silly hearts!
Loving thoughts, are indeed averse to relenting;
albeit they are always leading to smirks and destitution.
Release thy grains from yon grievous chain!
Spark thy wings, heave and bend!
Wear thy glee, ere any of the gruesome tears remain!
Shield thy mask with greater abhorrence!
III
O notions, fruit my doom and feed my sight!
From womanly misery I yet ought to emerge
and all its surly sleeves I ought to blight!
IV
O peace, fetch for me my untaught breath in vain
Keep me steady, ditch me not in the rain!
Tend me more, yet not my cheerful friend-
in pleasures whom thrives, in virtues was whom foolish!
Praising plaited hairs, swept amidst folded skirts.
Gruesome lies they carry, the finest they conspire to marry;
what a horrid, unalterable, evil concoction!
Yet pureness is the only that deserves awe;
virgins are a symbol of unrequited love, but tenderest affection!
However lonesome, hither and thither I shall bear this pain
Until my stern heart melted to love again.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 7:38 AM UTC
Spanish
Su idilio fue una larga sonrisa a cuatro labios…
En el regazo cálido de rubia primavera
Amáronse talmente que entre sus dedos sabios
Palpitó la divina forma de la Quimera.
En los palacios fúlgidos de las tardes en calma
Hablábanse un lenguaje sentido como un lloro,
Y se besaban hondo hasta morderse el alma!…
Las horas deshojáronse como flores de oro,
Y el Destino interpuso sus dos manos heladas…
Ah! los cuerpos cedieron, mas las almas trenzadas
Son el más intrincado nudo que nunca fue…
En lucha con sus locos enredos sobrehumanos
Las Furias de la vida se rompieron las manos
Y fatigó sus dedos supremos Ananké…
English
Their idyll was a smile of four lips…
In the warm lap of blond spring
They loved such that between their wise fingers
the divine form of Chimera trembled.
In the glimmering palaces of quiet afternoons
They spoke in a language heartfelt as weeping,
And they kissed each other deeply, biting the soul!
The hours fluttered away like petals of gold,
Then Fate interposed its two icy hands…
Ah! the bodies yielded, but tangled souls
Are the most intricate knot that never unfolds…
In strife with its mad superhuman entanglements,
Life’s Furies rent their coupled hands
And wearied your powerful fingers, Ananké*…
*Ananké: Goddess (Greek) of Unalterable Necessity
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Where's the man whose love is big enough
To catch a waterfall?
Whose rain slicker is sturdy enough to let things roll
Who isn't afraid to stare down a stream
Or look a storm right in the eye?
This man doesn't run;
The water-bearer--
On his shoulders he lifts the weight of love.
Do you know how many times I've seen
A man turn and run away from me
Instead of rushing to the sea?
He trickles away from feeling;
He dries up.
No, the man I'm speaking of
Is more than an oasis in a desert of difficulty;
He is a full-on river
Gaining speed
As he rolls down the mountainside
Carving canyons as he goes
Defeating the foes
That try to make us hide
from our emotions
--In fact, this man feels oceans
And never turns back
On his decisions
Doesn't reconsider the love he's given
or what he lacks
Because when he lacks, he makes more.
This is the secret of persistence
That keeps the sea kissing the shore
Because at times the tide gets pulled back by the force of the moon
But this man keeps sovereignty over the moment, knowing that soon
He will come crashing back onto her shore
And she will be waiting.
Yes, the earth would wait
Solid as a rock
for his return-
Her faith unshakable,
Though she is moved by his caresses.
She remains ever the same,
But she is molded, changed
By his loving form.
Made even more beautiful
By his presence.
Where is a man like this?
I've yet to find
One with such ardent purpose of mind
As to sweep his lady love
Off her feet, in a great flood
Of kisses and hugs
and promises fulfilled
The man who has an immutable will
And an unalterable course
Who dissolves the rock
And inscribes his love into the very earth
Not just by strength or force,
but perseverance
And resolve for all he's worth.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
unheard happiness
unwanted anger
underestimated intimidation
unloving lies
undermining images
unfaithful source
unalterable devastation
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 12:19 AM UTC
Oh happy shades--to me unblest!
Friendly to peace, but not to me!
How ill the scene that offers rest,
And heart that cannot rest, agree!
This glassy stream, that spreading pine,
Those alders quiv'ring to the breeze,
Might sooth a soul less hurt than mine,
And please, if any thing could please.
But fix'd unalterable care
Foregoes not what she feels within,
Shows the same sadness ev'rywhere,
And slights the season and the scene.
For all that pleas'd in wood or lawn,
While peace possess'd these silent bow'rs,
Her animating smile withdrawn,
Has lost its beauties and its pow'rs.
The saint or moralist should tread
This moss-grown alley, musing, slow;
They seek, like me, the secret shade,
But not, like me, to nourish woe!
Me fruitful scenes and prospects waste
Alike admonish not to roam;
These tell me of enjoyments past,
And those of sorrows yet to come.
1.6k
The sunrise burns the sky
A carefully coloured explosion
Blooded light flooding the low Kent fields that lie
Before Maidstone, excreting soundless motion:
Yellow carnation shards sway
With this violent advent of day.
In Hucking Estate diaphanous bluebells nestle
Beneath the groping canopy
Of Ash. Oak; the encroaching stinging nettle
Shields the frequent woodland scree
Covering with a verdant flush
Brooks that through the stones invisibly rush.
Within the hour, the Gorgon-headed sun
Sweeps aside the cloud-
The red into blue and orange has run
And in Lower Fullingpits Wood the increasingly loud
Shuffling of badger attacking vole, fox strangling rabbit,
All compounded into daily habit.
The Kent Downs rise and fall
Like resurrected earth-bound music from a time
When hill, wood and pool
Emerged from unfettered chalk and lime.
Before the Cantii hunted in ancient Wents Wood,
For deer and boar, spurred not by hunger but for the love of blood.
Above the sparrow-hawk attacks the sparrows
Claw enmeshed in feather,
Beak unravelling neck. The unalterable sorrows
Of nature and weather.
Cruelty never ceases, but just gets more efficient-
Kindness remains deficient.
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
the worst kind of Sad is not when Sad tries not to be Sad.
it is when Sad hides in your closet,
threading it's claws through the slightly healed,
fresh scars
that litter your entire being
the way that Freddy claws
at his victims of sleep.
it is when Sad creeps up upon you
as you listen to your favorite song
and it suffocates you -
suffocates you with your own scarf,
letting you fade in and out of life
as you lose yourself in memories you'd like
to forget.
you know which scarf Sad uses, don't you?
it's the red one, with the black stripes,
the one you threw in the furthest corner of your closet
because it reminds you of that day,
and summer sweat,
and the aching empty feeling that consumed you
until you were swallowed up
completely eaten alive.
Sad is only Sad when it keeps you from precious slumber
and drives you to the brink of drowsiness, all the while
weighing you down with
bone crushing, eye drooping heaviness;
Sad hibernates there, sound asleep behind the cavity in your chest
and it makes you think you're okay again.
the worst kind of Sad
is when it resurfaces -
though only when you're alone -
and replays your entire day,
a constant loop through each dragging second,
until you doubt it ever happened.
the worst kind of Sad
is not Sadness itself;
it is not even the chest clenching feeling
that it brings, forcing you to think
about each breath as you make it
but rather, the worst kind of Sad
is the one that breaks your ribs with the strength
of a wrecking ball
and prematurely reminds you
that someday
they will be gone - for good, forever,
a ghost haunting your life.
the worst kind of Sad is the
inevitable and unalterable reality
that there is nothing you can do
to stop it.
(I bit my tongue a thousand times, but had we reached the thousand and first, I would have told you the truth. Why are we allowed to become close now when you are sure to be gone before I can blink my eyes and gather the courage to say goodbye?)
-a.c.
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
January
winter objectivity
the coldest month of the year
a month that bring most folks to tears
Wooly shawls, fluffy robes
doggy ears slippers struggles
to warm the curse of your cold feet
~~
Early to bed, and early to rise
Followed by a hot cup of fresh mint tea
Vick vaporize that stings your eyes
Would make a blind person see clearly
~~
Re-corking that age old red wine
from nineteen eighty-nine
with two wines glasses on the top cabinet
In hopes of one day for another romantic setting
Or most likely your daughter futuristic June wedding
~~
let’s accepted the unacceptable
I cannot imagine a winter without snow
a summer without the hot blasting sun or
autumn without the leaves slowly falling
to the ground,
mother nature the grief we feel
your unalterable changes of your teaching
once again you have won this round
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 12:42 PM UTC
Transculent threads run up and down
Old planks of wood-
Upright and close together,
Like distant cousins leaning towards each other
And whispering sweet condolences
At a funeral.
The spider weaves her heavy web
Out of weightless air,
Intricately trapping
Suicidal fruit flies
And drops of dew,
Reflecting off the shriveled corpses of
Unfortunate insects,
Casting a subtle shadow
Upon the indifferent shrubbery:
Infected with parasites that fail to even
Acknowledge his heavy existence.
"I'm here", he desperately wails,
"Beneath your spindly legs
And despair ridden hearts,
Full of something like ambition, but of a different tone,
Beating on and on below your silent wings."
Deaf to his compassion,
They lay tangled in their fate,
Accepting death
From the moment the spider drew close
And caressed their sorry souls with her
Delicate finger tips.
His emerald tendons wear her web-
For, the past won't let him shake it.
An old man
Who keeps the shawl of his late wife,
Wrapped a little too tightly
Around his frail, veiny throat,
Just to know she was once there,
And to keep her from ever really dying.
So the bush cloaks his body
With the cobwebs of the savage spider,
Adorned with corpses
Of insects too passive
To question that which required their lives.
Alone in silent ceremony,
He gravely continues on,
Beneath the dance of life and death,
Yet never fully numb to it all,
His nerves twitch and shake with the presence
Of something gradually taking it's course.
Life flows in and out of his branches,
Like a tumultuous waterfall
Giving life to all around it,
While drowning those too weak to follow
In it's unalterable current.
And so, another day goes by,
But to the forest, it's all the same,
For none can hear the old bush cry,
Mourning each fragile bug by name.
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 11:04 AM UTC
stepping up!
no!......not to the "plate"
(this is not a baseball game
or a corporate dinner!)
silly pretentions!
awkward in their murderous possiblities!
DO YOU EVEN CARE?
walking green strands in central park with children well in hand and letting them know how fully they are loved
this is simple!
what is it!?
pretend !.... pretend!!.........pretend!!!
as do all those
on the corporate payroll
DO YOU EVEN CARE?
stepping out
into the frozen night pregnant with simple loving possibilities
are you here?
stepping up!
no ....!
not to FEAR and not to GREED and not to HATE
but to eachother!
DO YOU EVEN CARE?
here we are
stepping into the universe and its unalterable laws
i know you know full well what i mean for we all were once children well in hand in central park and loved
DO YOU EVEN CARE?
well
well well
well
.........after all the the poems
the question remains awaiting your answer
DO YOU EVEN CARE?
inquiring souls
long to know
Aug 19, 2010
Aug 19, 2010 at 10:08 AM UTC
Nostalgia is a painful thing sometimes
When the summer is over,
Let’s accepted the unacceptable
I cannot imagine an autumn without golden leaves
A summer without the hot blasting sun
or the midst of a budding romance,
Autumn without the leaves slowly falling
To the ground,
while the cold breeze nibble our brows
No warmth from the sun:
Mother Nature the grief we feel
your unalterable changes of your teaching
Once again you have won this round
Is that your voice I heard in the distance wind?
It has been a wonderful summer this year my friend
I will continue to meditate on your words,
In a time of temptation, with no fault of my own
My summer romance is over
Early to bed, and early to rise
Followed by a hot cup of fresh mint tea
Until we meet again…..
summer of 2015
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 5:55 PM UTC
you have that good sense of balance
affecting us at one glance
you have that awareness in danger
like a body within a solid timber
you look so gentle
like a baby blowing her first birthday cake's candle
you have the crown
that gives you strength to not frown
you have that unalterable aura
the way you look so optimistic
like you hold nothing but all the brightness in this world
you have that absolute fineness
like an angel floating down so perfectly
yes you are,
yes it's you,
and your smile,
that says it all
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC
You cannot own my river
but I will let you name the sea,
with its fortressed depth
and alien life,
all out of sight and out of mind;
the poisoned sustenance of brine.
Leave the blame at my feet
and forget me over time,
you can take the roads
leading north,
if you allow me to take the south,
with no chance of a future collide.
We can cut a deal over the reservoir
if I can retain the quarry,
it was never yours
from the start,
but you can play the victim's harp,
whilst I tattoo over my scars.
I will sing for the Star of Bethlehem,
you can fall into the arms of David,
you can make it out and
pay your dues,
shine lights onto your winter blues,
whilst I anaesthetise each painful bruise.
You can paint over the wallpaper
whilst I am replacing all my strings,
we can change the meaning
to our favourite songs,
I will sever the ties to unalterable tunes;
all of those words that lead back to you.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
Oh happy shades--to me unblest!
Friendly to peace, but not to me!
How ill the scene that offers rest,
And heart that cannot rest, agree!
This glassy stream, that spreading pine,
Those alders quiv'ring to the breeze,
Might sooth a soul less hurt than mine,
And please, if any thing could please.
But fix'd unalterable care
Foregoes not what she feels within,
Shows the same sadness ev'rywhere,
And slights the season and the scene.
For all that pleas'd in wood or lawn,
While peace possess'd these silent bow'rs,
Her animating smile withdrawn,
Has lost its beauties and its pow'rs.
The saint or moralist should tread
This moss-grown alley, musing, slow;
They seek, like me, the secret shade,
But not, like me, to nourish woe!
Me fruitful scenes and prospects waste
Alike admonish not to roam;
These tell me of enjoyments past,
And those of sorrows yet to come.
952
in the spinning circles of mass disorder
and the emotions that run rampant
in the inconsistency of the love I deserve
and the ones who want to love me but can't yet
in the influences that taint my blood and mind and will
the caffeine, the smoke, the alcohol that sits for days distilled
in the fluidity of these numbered days
and memories only made beautiful because they're gone
in the never ending collapsing of one thing into the next
with my bewildered mind never escaping from itself to get some rest
Within the whirlwind that is my life right now I am anchored, I am humbled, I overflow with gratitude that in all the inconsistency He waits for me the same. The sameness in His presence; the unchanging, unwavering, unalterable presence that is Him.
He will always love me; always forgive me.
He waits.
And in the shakiness of growing up, He gives me stability.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
Filthy, tainted
Fouled and soiled
Yes, I’m contaminated.
I’ m a thirst-quencher
There’s a surfeit feeling
Not from me,
But from Donor
Of the manna of grace
The ultimate glass-owner.
I had no powers
No muscles
To settle each beat.
The sea and the saltwater
Both were unalterable
I was sprinkled
With another name
Then, I am Brave.
Father, it was You who let me accept the things I can’t change & it was You who injected courage within me to change things I can. Thank You for the wisdom you gave for me to know the difference. Father, thank You for the life and for my renewal today. I am blessed to have You with me. In Jesus name, Amen.
(12/3/13 @xirlleelang)
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
The ruins peered out from behind
The blue-flecked crag
Where eagles nested.
Wind-blown, storm-tossed
Only the walls remain.
The turrets are now heaps of grass covered
Bricks, the keep a muddy mound.
Here, once were warriors,
Draped in furs, bearing swords
That glinted across the sea in defiance,
Defending the land from strangers.
Here, once were warriors-
All long gone!
Time itself has altered what once
Was considered unalterable.
When kings ruled from inland palaces
And long powerful ships caressed the jagged
Shore; now washed up on the beach
Like the kingdom they protected, flotsam:
Cruelly ruined planks of elm, distorted by
Sea and salt; masts broken and disfigured.
A once glorious people, now gone!
Palaces overthrown!
All hanging onto unforgiving Time
Like fossilised carbuncles.
Ripped from Time in a plethora of
Anguished voices dying slowly-
Calling out for resolution.
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 2:56 PM UTC
*When she loves
She loves savagely
The man became God
Unalterable ardour
Not of this realm
Her soul.*
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 1:56 PM UTC
Something is in the Nightly Mist
We walked below the trellis grove we wondered aimlessly strangely out of it our clothes didn’t
Seem to fit the time was we alone on a trip of discovery my thoughts seemed to follow a musical flow
That only the cherished violin could create you must know you were there remember how the moon
Went behind the clouds our mood changed keeping in tune with the darker night we slipped beyond the
Recognizable to the muted surroundings secretive mysteries came into our being giving voice to wonder
The sky was no longer an empty place but many connections traced the night like a meteor shower and
Understanding descended out of the light life was an adventure filled with new promise we were stirred
In an emotional caldron thoughts leaped and spat they were hitting making designs on porous canvass
Shadowed then with bright knowing colors vividly they streamed enthralling captivated we observed
This creative wave exhaust itself it left our physical frames tremolos it was like being a magnet but we
Drew not metal but understanding purity cleansed darkened areas where limitation collected making
Disorder a common trait now fused with raw power every fiber of our being was being charged
Maximized what sharing carry a blazing light into dark muddled minds twist their shackles with ease
Freeing them from heartache waste that stands at flood level the impetus of a great future pulsates
Laying within reach like receiving a four year collage term in hours the arching sky manifest lessons
To all who will come to the end of themselves find the true value of living is giving the best to others
That will include yourself because you found on a magical night the fount of all treasure you don’t have
To plead and cry please don’t die quietly surely you are not just a dream that we will awaken from and
Then have to return to those pain infested days without hope this not just a trick or a memory that
Recedes until it is hard to recall walk by the unbreakable unalterable law of love and you will find
A newness that supersedes all and everything you have ever known
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 6:17 AM UTC
I want to taint the rose, but instead I cherish it
I want to bash the thought, but instead I relish it
I am feverish tonight
How I wish for your touch
I miss you, I miss you
Even in this unalterable delirium
Its little, unwavering sarcasm
Full of disgrace, stealth and denial
I want to rejoice it all
The merriment of yon notorious souls
I want to live the night
I want to dance out the very whole circle
Like a halo, and its listless shivering phantasm
Like a badger, in its soundless, sleepless cage
Oh I miss you
I miss you, I miss you
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 4:27 PM UTC
The fire is lit
The rain irrelevant.
People surrounding trying to bring upon the burs,
But the fire unalterable.
Toasting the air with every deep inhale.
You assure me with your warmth
We see the spark of every enduring flame
The cold chill of winter ceased to exist
Nothing can rid the fiery heat
of this beautiful fireplace of each other.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 6:44 PM UTC
Today asked open-ended questions
but I didn’t answer, I was wearing
yellow sunglasses,
and I couldn’t see
the unalterable reality of the situation.
Today, truth was not analyzed, it was
deflected
to the other side of the net
and I spent minutes
precious minutes, wondering:
Which way am I going?
Do I have enough time?
How long will it take?
Until I felt like I was spinning in circles
stepping on poetry
like rotten apples,
decomposing at my feet.
Today, tall grass laughed
as I moved further into the
dark, unsettling tunnel;
not looking back.
Aug 26, 2010
Aug 26, 2010 at 11:40 PM UTC
We walked below the trellis grove we wondered aimlessly strangely out of it our clothes didn’t
Seem to fit the time was we alone on a trip of discovery my thoughts seemed to follow a musical flow
That only the cherished violin could create you must know you were there remember how the moon
Went behind the clouds our mood changed keeping in tune with the darker night we slipped beyond the
Recognizable to the muted surroundings secretive mysteries came into our being giving voice to wonder
The sky was no longer an empty place but many connections traced the night like a meteor shower and
Understanding descended out of the light life was an adventure filled with new promise we were stirred
In an emotional caldron thoughts leaped and spat they were hitting making designs on porous canvass
Shadowed then with bright knowing colors vividly they streamed enthralling captivated we observed
This creative wave exhaust itself it left our physical frames tremolos it was like being a magnet but we
Drew not metal but understanding purity cleansed darkened areas where limitation collected making
Disorder a common trait now fused with raw power every fiber of our being was being charged
Maximized what sharing carry a blazing light into dark muddled minds twist their shackles with ease
Freeing them from heartache waste that stands at flood level the impetus of a great future pulsates
Laying within reach like receiving a four year collage term in hours the arching sky manifest lessons
To all who will come to the end of themselves find the true value of living is giving the best to others
That will include yourself because you found on a magical night the fount of all treasure you don’t have
To plead and cry please don’t die quietly surely you are not just a dream that we will awaken from and
Then have to return to those pain infested days without hope this not just a trick or a memory that
Recedes until it is hard to recall walk by the unbreakable unalterable law of love and you will find
A newness that supersedes all and everything you have ever known
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 7:14 PM UTC