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"vates" poems
Señora Muerte que se va llevando todo lo bueno que en nosotros topa!... Solos -en un rincón- vamos quedando los demás... ¡gente mísera de tropa! Los egoístas fatuos y perversos de alma de trapo y corazón de estopa...; manufactores de fugaces versos; poetas de cuadrícula y balanza, a toda pena, a todo amor adversos..: los que gimen patética romanza; lacrimosos que exhiben su película; versistas de salón y contradanza; cantores de la tórrida canícula; del polo frío, del canoso invierno... líricos de alma exánime y ridícula! Bardos que prostituyen el eterno jardín, y que florecen madrigales de un olor soporífero y externo... Vates ultra-sensibles y banales que ningún vaho de verdad anima. Gramáticos solemnes y letales... Malabaristas de estudiada esgrima! ¡Oh tristeza perenne de las cosas que no tienen sabor, -hechas a lima! ...En un rincón quedamos las tediosas gentes sin emoción, huecas y vanas... ¡Lléguense las nocturnas mariposas fúnebres, y que lloren las campanas...! Este fastidio que me está matando... ¿dónde las almas íntimas, hermanas...? ¡Señora Muerte se las va llevando!
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Señora muerte
Beans bloat the wit f'art's aches, to ease acceptance of the winds we make up, as crude ensamples, of bubbles bursting to loose the essence essential pressure to hold a bubble, apart, as its content passes gurgling past pyloric valves, posting notes to axions reflecting gut felt reasons to try something, some new thing, not locked away whole truth evident -ly holy tomes beneath the vates old place of divination and meditation, temple ground. Das Grund. Watch your step, settle in Jello-hello, y'ello, who may I say is calling? Those bubbles of being, measured with all the latest ware, continue to pervade our manners of speaking, current terms of endearing adjectives splattering the walls of our bubbles, as our windows bump, and I catch you looking, back looking to seem to wish to know, who looked first. What does it take, to make up one's own mind, after the riddling writers and wind fiddling poets, pass as spirit forms from god's own duodenum, in effect. Allman Brothers, I do believe, we smelt that smell. But it may have been me stepping in your mud. Pedantic note to knowing more or less, In pagan Rome the vates resided on the Vatican Hill, the Hill of the Vates. From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vates> We are currently doing as Vates did, don't you agree? A little leaven, in the right forest, at the right season.
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Mar 25, 2023
Mar 25, 2023 at 4:19 PM UTC
For whom the incense burnt
when pain was soaked in tears and dreams was broken by days my whole felt unsafe 'cause heart indulged in perilous ruth. But, these words struck me, FAITH! engage not in hate and embrace vates....
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Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 12:13 PM UTC
Faith
when pain was soaked in tears and dreams was broken by days my whole felt unsafe 'cause heart indulged in perilous ruth. But, these words struck me, FAITH! engage not in hate and embrace vates.....
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Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 11:26 AM UTC
Untitled