"velleity" poems
First kiss. O dulcet, glorious, first kiss!
Undeniable, absolute and sweet.
Honeyed naivety. Breathtaking bliss.
Nigh naught in life can possibly compete.
Your kiss. O mellifluous, first true kiss!
Delicate symphony of pure passion.
My heart surrenders; it cannot resist
The sounds of soft, diaphanous satin.
Our kiss. O inimitable first kiss!
Melody of sweet spontaneity.
Intoxicating and velvet abyss.
True desire; nay mere velleity.
Heavenly pleasure ‘tis the first, sweet kiss
Heart and mind will forever reminisce.
Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 5:57 PM UTC
With querulous turpitude, I stood
Disdainful denied reassurance;
Selfless. My crying heart
The echo of the wind rebuking
All that is remaining of
what I used to be.
Grotesque deformities my reflection
The pain of pure love etched
In dreams of aeons passed.
Hideous beauty a frightening peace
A sweetness I founded corrupt;
Hell my heaven
My paradise.
Honesty a musical once
writhing in my breast
A seraph convoking legions,
Now wings out-stretched
I break my own treacherous heart
A fiend of Heaven a demon of Hell
The first fallen
Unto likeness absolved
The pennated breadth of twilight
Breeding familiarities contempt-
I have wearied myself, O God,
And I am consumed,
Resolute of inequity.
He that is down need not fear plucking,
Experience is the teacher of fools
And a gentle lie turneth away inquiry:
If the mountain will not go to Mahomet,
Mahomet must go to the mountain;
The nakedly wan mantic
Velleity to tear Christ's body
Malapert, before the ruddy shoal;
Society covers a multitude of sins
Within the penitent sanctity of
Heaven's holocaust, in which
No man can serve two masters-
Oh that I had wings like a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest
Eternal and absolute,
An angelic image of my shadowed self!.
ELEETE J MUIR
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 8:35 AM UTC
That watershed moment
when the eye goggles comes off,
is akin to winning the Burleigh Horse Trials
with the much coveted Trophy.
Meeting a Rambler as an equal
on an arduous fog clouded valley
along the Devil's Punchbowl,
or a French Phrase Book
that's almost perusal by nature,
under the Arc de Triomphe
How I long to be accomplished
as one of the few, rather than a
casual follower of Velleity .
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 5:10 PM UTC
You were, you are, you always will be my chimerical vision.
For a while, I had always thought things should be tacenda, but then I realized how stupid of a thought that was. I mean you came into my life and became my dépayśe. I was completely taken out of my comfort zone and put in some place unknown; some place near you, yet so far away. I have this wish where you and I find the light together, but I think I always knew it was a velleity. You're so soigné, and I'm just homely. When I close my eyes, I picture that first mamilapinatapai and wonder why I couldn't have just spoken up. I've become a mad man over this serendipity which lasted a short time only to last forever. It was just a halcyon, those few moments we awed over, and I was just to sick with evasion to ever light a spark. Now, all I can do it drown in this chimerical vision alone.
(j.a.r.)
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
She's key to the prison isolating my heart.
She's purest of joy one can ever know,
Angels dance at the edges of her heart, allergic to lies honesty is her pride.
Suffocated by ropes of sorrows, she untied them and climb to lands of jubilation.
Her smile awakens the smell of roses,
Clearing the fog of uncertainty.
A treasure worth forfeiting life for.
Enticing,alluring, comely, serene and mesmeric lady.
She's a lover, the light in the dark, a kind gentle heart sordid hands cannot reach.
The mind floods with memories shared —the heart, dried by old tears
and scarred by past lovers,
yearns again for her touch.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
***Book One
(∞The Psalm of The Star Child∞)
The Precursor's Psalm I-V
To the Child of The Empyrean. For ye valleity stars shine.
(I) ―En Fortissimo
1 Tender with sentimentality,
I fathom you,
2 That you draw closer, nigh’ with every waking moment,
Closer to ensconce ‘twixt my embrace,
3 That your towering arms
May aegis these benighted bones.
4 The Vestibule of Our Souls shall be
Assoiled by an Arcadian Eternity,
5 Shall scintillate in my every blooded tear, shed garnetiferously,
―Upon my crucifix, our crucifix:
6 A penance, pardoning our transgressions prognostically
Before by romance, we touched erringly.
(Se'lah)
(II) Celestial Communion
1 O, Star Child,
May your beckoning
2 Sow the Seeds of Somnus upon the sanctimony
Festering in my faith,
3 (A besmirched hope)
Tarnished by my reverenc’d doubt.
4 O Minstrel of Manumission,
Will ye sing unto me ye SoulSong?
5 The Womb’d Aethers bleed,
The Terraqueous Mother conceives, Gaian a dream,
6 Her Luminous Brethren yearn
For the Arbiter of Fates.
(Se'lah)
(III) Song of Wishes
1 Velleity speaks,
It whispers,
2 In the twinkling of the stars.
When shall it end,
3 When
It has yet to begin?
4 Be still― and become one with all things,
As time fades, consciousness begins,
5 The Experiential Cascade:
All that was, all that is, & all that shall be,
6 Circular & Cycling,
Forevermore.
7 Know that there is a reason,
Know that there is a place,
8 Know that there is a person,
In this world for you.
9 Open up your heart and see,
All you were meant to see.
(Se'lah).
(IV) Spiritus de Tempus (Zeitgeist of the Future)
1 ―Blooming in Reminiscence
The Dreamscape glistens,
2 A Redolent Reverie wafts
The Tenuous Air amidst
3 Her Zephry'd Lightwaves
& Crystalline Pulsations.
4 Ardently I pine,
For thine visage, groping for a rhyme,
5 Whence I can gaze once more upon thine
Countenance sublime,
6 All desperations been defied,
For thee I reverberate Love, The Spirit of the Times.
(Se'lah)
(V) Bastion Heart
1 The agony in existentiality
Unravels undying piety
2 And
Cloistered in cadence of solitude,
3 I, the Somnolent One,
Am roused by The Heart’s Resonance.
4 In wanting, there is life,
In desirelessness, wanting still,
5 Know thine Power,
Indomitable Will:
6 The Couer & The Amour of the Spirit
Are immortal.
(Se'lah)***
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 8:05 AM UTC
O monogamy, sweet so monogamy
Have me by this rimy night so I may bear your cold’st kiss
To espy eyes blazed in scarlet hue
If not for this holding us part, touching firm this instance
Of what I feel now I could not feel ever,
Could I bask in aughts - a goodness too true as so a sight worth sights
If pulchritude, if vagary...
To innerstand this sorrow, this phase, this ending of me
So lovesick of vanity, this night owes me tears
But tonight she has me, by her brassiere, by lips
Tangl’d in manner and salaciousness - her being to be
Wonder of me, wonder me; if I ever your knight
Wonder if I am enough, manifest your ways unto me
Demand I exist, under your eyes
Impart this velleity, four ways for ways...
Have me, O monogamy
With you will I always be? Your sabbath, your blind’st bliss as too mine
Split with me another moment for much time has rot
Mongst this lour’st hour my heart is wounded by the thorns of essence
To think we are but not cause to this grieve
In sooth; this everly passion now a mortal’s pule
Stay with me on this last’d night
A midnight kiss, a midnight touch, fragrance, a gentle glare...
Monogamy, monogamy.
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
Run out into the night with me
And the night-silent streets
The midnight
Plunging deeps
Will deeply shape velleity
Run out into the night with me
And let not fear take hold
Fear of winter
Morning cold
Keep you from running with me
Run out into the night with me
And find in night
Peaceful home
For which the world does look
So readily
Run out into the night with me
And the rivers of this darkness
Shall run to sea
And ebb
To satiate your grasping heart
Run out into the night with me
And as we run
We'll forget that the night's too fast
For us to ever catch
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 9:41 AM UTC
Tar
Nothing will remain un-inked;
Wounds bleed and
feelings can ****
and that is why
everything must spill.
I can't keep this pent up fire
caged inside my mouth,
the anger, the unfairness of it all
erodes my teeth.
Your medicine wasn't
medicine at all;
more like subtle attempts of
mutilation than a velleity.
And your arms felt like home,
until all love left them,
and they felt like smoke
enveloping me;
you never made it easier to live,
right next to you I couldn't breathe.
I will not miss you because
there is no place safer than
inside the skin
I've slowly learned to love,
inside eroding flesh, eroding cells,
someday I will possess
a brand new vessel,
a stranger to your hell.
And when you'll come knocking
Your utterances will have no gravity;
You cannot heal scars
with a mouth that exhales tar.
You exhale and what your breath
touches falls prey to decay -
I wish to remain.
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 3:49 AM UTC
A fraction of joy,
think of me
As if
there were something to miss.
Bury flowers in my heart
So beauty
could take hold.
I remember
the look on your face —
So serious.
As if some treacherous
harm,
Were inflicted.
Let me wish
For no more,
As wishes
Are the death of
Rational thought.
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 6:35 PM UTC
Three By Sea
Shall we wax as moon flower
in distant array,
swayed by first light of day
shall we retire by nightly beam
it's blue-white ray pathed
by cobblestone glistening?
Shall we skim naked as treetops
alive in the drift of whey
the woe of worlds surrendered
to the torrid heat of day
if the night is cool carressing?
Shall we blush in wistful velleity,
billowing voice as coarse drawn sail
our tragic beauty her blacken veil
should Dawn draw her curtain to
earthen edge?
Shall we pledge constant to Cresent
the lively heart of we three stars,
to grace his cheek in shivering war
all our brothers, lovers, sons?
Shall we all be inspired horizons,
a shimmering star in selenotropism
blooming wildly grateful in the dark
to spread the heavens,
to light the sea?
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC
“The Only philosophy which can be responsibly practiced in face of
despair is the attempt to contemplate all things as they would present
themselves from the standpoint of redemption. Knowledge has no light but
that shed on the world by redemption: all else is reconstruction, mere
technique. Perspectives must be fashioned that displace and estrange the
world, reveal it to be, with its rifts and crevices, as indigent and distorted
as it will appear one day in the messianic light. To gain such perspectives
without velleity or violence, entirely from felt contact with objects – this
alone is the task of thought. It is the simplest of all things, because the
situation calls imperatively for such knowledge, indeed because
consummate negativity, once squarely faced, delineates the mirror-image
of its opposite. But it is also the utterly impossible thing, because it
presupposes a standpoint removed, even though by a hair’s breadth, from
the scope of existence, whereas we well know that any possible knowledge
must not only be first wrested from what is, if it shall hold good, but is also
marked, for this very reason, by the same distortion and indigence which it
seeks to escape. The more passionately thought denies its conditionality for
the sake of the unconditional, the more unconsciously, and so
calamitously, it is delivered up to the world. Even its own impossibility it
must at last comprehend for the sake of the possible. But beside the
demand thus placed on thought, the question of the reality or unreality of
redemption itself hardly matters.”
~Theodor Adorno, Minima Moralia
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 11:44 PM UTC
Protected and recyclable, like life enrapturing us in murmurs when it If I'm being sorry and being silent, maybe I'm conscious of my yearning
Risk of being a bad influence, the insurrection of goodness is that velleity towards life evaporating
Without arrogance, honesty lives and learning are passionately making out the life out to a mothball of obdurate in duress
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 9:19 PM UTC
Acetone
What a day it will be
when we'll discover that
underneath our overworn sheen
is a layer of untouched rust,
smothered with lust.
And then with a scalding cry,
our minds will shatter,
splitting our belief of love
in half, where it's always been.
We will extirpate
all our memories,
as if the stars never
decorated the sky,
And when someone
inquires why,
you can tell them what we had
was only a velleity
branching out of our hearts.
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 10:27 AM UTC
Wanted to start with an honest take
On T.S. Eliot's fulmination towards criticisms
Regarding the debater, Mr. Grierson's
Point of view on metaphysical writings
In purview of genuine poetic dissertation and discussion
Presentation of the nuances of poems are intriguing
Wherewithal that there is a diligent approach taken
To study John Donne and Cowley
Marvell, one of the social upheavilists
Of this time t'was real t'was true to naturalism
However, Goethe points out " in their unnaturalism they poised on naturalism"
There is a lot to say for Mr. Eliot's debate
Not too much for Mr. Grierson's review of some good old fashioned
Amorous verse, inasmuch it bewitches the languid sensuality
Often the purer and fairer opposite ***
Through genuine use of wit and impressive stoicism
A thoroughly metaphorical use of the term "stoic"
Can be attributed to the use of complex imagery
It would be interesting if one drew parallels
On the concepts of love and spirituality
It is expressed in reading that deals with rapid association of thought
English language canon and poetic implication are there, of course
Basically, what the poet is trying to say and the implicit understanding
Between a lover and a mistress
One could say it is a conversation or a nuanced conversation
Between the reader and poet
Such is the metaphysics of women and their love for genuine metaphor
It is often the velleity of the poet to write in such esoteric language
Therefore, one could understand the heterogeneous ideas potrayed
In each poetic verse of Donne's repertoire cannot be
Misconstrued as unnecessarily analytic
Almost like the dissection of a patient in surgery
The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 7:17 PM UTC
Do you remember?
I asked in December
If you could love a girl like me.
Do you know what you said?
Remember a bit?
You cared for me as any friend would,
But you could not love me.
I cried but kept that with me.
But do you know why I asked?
I needed a hand to help me,
Feet to walk me through the
Terrible past I have.
I didn't need your lips to kiss,
Only your embrace.
Let this be your explanation,
If you find this you will know it's me.
And perhaps, if you could love me,
I'll let you hold my heart again.
But don't break it like the first.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 3:32 AM UTC
On this starlit night I balter
Nubivagant am I, floating as I dance
Although my faith, it shan't ever falter
I can't shake the feeling of impending doom
Daring am I, for I shall bite this fruit
Foolish might I be, from the mouth I'll shoot
Devilish smiles, the owners I know
Fiendish agendas,unkempt is their false deity
Tenebrous alleyways,they are our friends
Pine I do,to retain my sobriety
All the time flies,no progress made
Alas I fear I've lost my own identity
To desert them,woe is me, 'tis a velleity
For my throat they'll slit,leave me be
Lord knows I'm guilty,come set me free
Ludic am I, in spite of my fate
The crawling anxious thoughts await
Darkly smile I do,wearin' a brave face
Ascension 'tisn't mine,demons leave not a trace
Not a soul shall avenge me
For I am stained, a heathen indeed
Judgement Day 'tis early for me
Holy light,it shines luminous upon me
Dammnation 'tis mine; Father I have failed thee
Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 5:05 PM UTC
Thou est speak
Separately and in speech
Your life shys from the light
Where is your violent life
In purple bruises or redness of your cheeks
Just like a child afraid of the dark
Turns into the bard of barren times
Laconic about his problems
And inclement about his cumulus
The turbulent seas finally shine on this sunset line
Burgeoning bright oars from the stygian life
The tridents push you into the frescoes of reconnaissance
As you lose control of your helm
Your poem comes to a pensive finish
Making someone's poetry better and brighter ad
Cantankerous about fuliginous lines and the velleity towards writing disappears
Some lines for your frostbitten ears
That feel like the heat of icy burn of some desolate polar boreal search
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 7:41 AM UTC