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Olivia Walker Jul 2010
Aurora borealis,
aurora australis.

Mare nostrum,
sub silentio,
sub secreto,
ad libitur,
as infinitum.

Ira furor brevis est,
amor suo iure.

Memento vivere,
in dubio,
in dolorosa,
in posse,
in nubibus,
in pace,
in spiritu et veritate,
in pleno,

nvne avt nvnquam,
ad vitam aeternam.
Latin translation:

The northern lights,
the southern lights.

Our sea,
in silence,
in secret,
as desired,
to infinity without end.

Anger is a brief insanity,
love in it's own right.

Remember that you have to live,
in doubt,
in sorrow,
in possibility,
in the clouds,
in peace,
in spirit and truth,
in full,

now or never,
for all time.


Olivia Walker (E.Y)
2010.7.5
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2022
Until your forgiveness
marries your passion
—everything else is lost

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)
Nick Jacob Jan 2010
Do we not say that time know no bounds, like an endless mill of flowing water. For that life is a delicate balance, constantly on the brink of shattering, a burden that is known forevermore. Alas, the dawning light marks a new beginning, but today weeps only sorrow.

It is true the heart can fracture, but with it infinite wisdom is gained. It is said not to fear hope or regret your despair, the memories of both bring promise of brighter days, etching a tranquil peace into the eyes.

The light is seen, but rarely kept. The dark is felt but seldom remembered; for it is a mere glimpse of our very existence. Our broken words breathe luminous spark into the world, a moment of radiance the morning star yearns for.

As today brings sorrow, yesterday lovingly sighs away the regrets. The memories, and the emptied wishes that it has borne alone and alas it finds its face, unlined by the years that have changed your fate, right inside you after all.

Tomorrow? It is not for us to know. The past indeed shines brightly on the future, but for this it has no place in stone. The advancing steps that are made surely have no determined path, for we are all adrift, floating through life’s stream.

Vitam ama (love life)
Donall Dempsey Nov 2016
NON SERVIAM

Even at 7
found Catholic transubstantiation

hard to swallow.

Much preferred the Protestant
metaphor better.

The priest exposing the host
in the monstrance

the congregation bowing
in veneration.

"Corpus Domini nostri..."

Now...holy cow
Jesus is leaping

from the tip of my tongue
Christ...clinging

to my palate hanging
on for dear life

before going to pieces
slipping down my...gulp

. . .oe... soph...a...gus .

". . .In vitam eternam. Amen."

The incense from the thurible
as it sways

making me feel so
si...aghhhhh...ck!

Me a little Lucifer
a lightbringer ...my own morning star.

Afraid I am
going to throw

Him up

the second coming
as I sit in my pew and stew

transubstantiation is
the pits.
When you speak
to me
a certain way
I can see the words

Shaped and formed
with wings
of gold
freeing what I’ve heard

When you speak
to me
a certain way
I can taste the wind

Calling forth
my hopes and dreams
— tendered from within

(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)
The Fire Burns Aug 2017
cervisiam
ternum sal,
calcis suci,
litus,
solis,
pulchrae puellae
ducens vitam Pellitos
confundito
et fruar

Translation

Beer,
pinch of salt,
lime juice,
beach,
sun,
beautiful girls
******* clad
mix together
and enjoy
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2020
We are what we do;
we are what we say

As day becomes night,
and night becomes day

We are twice begotten;
we are twice betrayed

Forgiveness in hiding
—redemption misplayed

(West Philadelphia: February, 2020)
Chapter II
War animal in Tel Gomel


Three decapitated white eagles flew through TeL Gomel, carrying blood in their twisted claws of serous spines. They brought him the prediction of his anticipated double death, with his double breastplate on and his double helmet that would transmute the putrid Thanatos rings of feces through his weak dingy lips of Him .. Alexander the Great had sent him a letter with the Flying Eagles low; all of them were dressed in the stench of a field of yellow mist and black battle. Alikanto's stood on the slimy Bucephalus hoof, they hiccupped over the six-decade-old dream-sized lymphoma in its ridged crucible, whipping purges from its muzzle full of lymphoma debris remaining in the interstices of its teeth. - Alans. His heart was converted into an ad limitem red cuirass with a blossoming blue endocardium. As the twilight of the wind-blown blowout set, Eolionimi and Shamal were breaking the Vertical and the Jachyma of their greedy steed to spit out Sudpichi's blood gushing over the smelly cowards of sleepless Gaugamela. In helical flying carpets, catacombs in Markazí where residents of their lineage have lived in the abominations of the Lives that were reborn victorious from the fire of the cult of the city that houses their true Life and Soul.


Before handing over his dreams to Borker, master of all the forests in the world. White fire was made and seasoned the amputated meat of the obese ghosts who dared to flee from their mouth in grace of law without a sword or shield, to smoke it as a Valhallic morning wafer where the Fallen Surrounded by sacred beastly animals dwell with the shells of meek personalities. Perhaps Asgard, perhaps Sudpichi granting the host to the one who lags behind. Lullaby's pergola from her steed even in her placenta. From the first night and first Dew of a presumed and total Ahrimána intimidation, "Destructive spirit" or "spirit of darkness and evil", he created the demons by launching an attack against Ahura Mazda, who manages, however, to reject him until darkness telling him: "Neither our thoughts, nor our teachings, nor our plans, nor our beliefs, nor our words, nor our souls, agree." But Joshua de Piedra with alkaline quartz flour renewed his attack and pierced the sky in the form of scorching fire and with it brought hunger and disease, pain, desire and death on the Gold Chariots as monumental as a Psalm or a journey of Faith for thousands of years, keeping linear faith to travel to have equipment to return in silence for the hunger of a thousand years without satiety. Ahrimána was feared by all the Devas, especially for his sinister countenance and reddened eyes even when his sons celebrated his namesake sharp rubies. He was represented by a humanoid and black creature, wearing full armor, and from his shoulders came living snakes that poisoned anyone who tried to be upright.


"Ego Vernath; Primo Muneris Historiarum Alexandri Magni Macedonis,
  Im 'iens ut Sudpichi imple immortal ad vitam Cyrine pingues,
Ut apud Gaugamela facta pizote garnet *** eis.
I will plead with you, Pater caelestis.
Et ex millibus venit ad Chiliometra Alikanto claudus ex Akuleo.
  Morbi exords exequie et transitu urgentibus telis duo vel tria a righteous
Debemus sine confessionis velo noctu aquam psalm iris.

Et mollissimas lancinant sum obumbratio eius de collo tuo pro XII hours sum hodie computatis Sanguis rubeus, ut esset itineris fertur super gradm in agris inferre posset explain aciemque per agros ".


"I am Vernath; Alexander the Great First Officer,
I'm going to Sudpichi to fill Immortal life with Cyrine logs,
To granate them with my pizote in Gaugamela.
I fervently ask you, Heavenly Father.
I come from thousands of Kilometers with Alikanto lame from Akuleo.
Crossing the exords and destinies of millions of mortuary arrows, duo or trio, by dozens
Without rest, without confession, without water from the night veil over the iris of my psalm.
I was lacerating the shadows from their necks for 12 hours, today I was counting the red blood cells that I would spread over the fields of the step and flank over the offensive fields ”.


Vernanth, taking his dagger and charging himself with his steed, biasedly cut the jugular veins, retracting the subclavian. In an arcane ritual he did the same with himself, to be reborn before dawn, when both beings of the peat breeze that shone from the tremulous ascending wind of Eolonymy and twitched the hedges that surrounded the Voices of Vigil that secondary him before going to meet with the troops of Alexander Magnus, as host of the black bugles fading to the Persian horizon.

It gets up before dawn. She remembers her childhood and picks up a blue stone to scrape it off her steed's ears and sinuses to revive her. Her legs grew countless meters, to later adapt to her real size. She takes her dagger, wraps it in cloths of lazy warm grass of tomorrow, and rubs it on her temples. Alikanto is active and stares at her to adore her again in a life with her.

As the morning sang the subtle and gentle twisted threads of time from the light of nature, she was encouraged to wake up crawling over the weevils and face to face with her sentry. It lifts its tail and lifts it up for the first comeback of daring to ride together through the white clouds and the feverish white skies. Erected like a graveyard pulled by its fanatical stampedes.

Scents of tasty foods appear for both of you, perhaps to get rid of so quickly gobble up the food riches that the holy land that allowed you to still be awake and have revived again, before heading to the fiefdoms of the offensive liana of the trapezoid expired.

There were only a few hours left to leave and meet his compatriots, to seize axes and weapons of war. Maybe to take one last look. And perhaps to see if he should survive taking the remains of his comrades to Horcondising, Asgard or Pairi-Daeza, to some Sufi labyrinth, so as not to disdain the hearts of the brothers in Silsilá.
under edtion
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2020
Is this life we live,
the life we know,
really death
from another plane

Is the hurt we suffer,
and the struggle we bear,
the result
of another realm

Are the visions we see,
and the insights unnamed,
but a window
into that world

Is what we call life,
what they call death,
with its reckoning
left untold

(Rosemont Pennsylvania: April, 2020)
Donall Dempsey Nov 2018
NON SERVIAM

Even at 7
found Catholic transubstantiation

hard to swallow.

Much preferred the Protestant
metaphor better.

The priest exposing the host
in the monstrance

the congregation bowing
in veneration.

"Corpus Domini nostri..."

Now...holy cow
Jesus is leaping

from the tip of my tongue
Christ...clinging

to my palate hanging
on for dear life

before going to pieces
slipping down my...gulp

. . .oe... soph...a...gus .

". . .In vitam eternam. Amen."

The incense from the thurible
as it sways

making me feel so
si...aghhhhh...ck!

Me a little Lucifer
a lightbringer ...my own morning star.

Afraid I am
going to throw

Him up

the second coming
as I sit in my pew and stew

transubstantiation is
the pits.
Jay M Feb 2022
Ad puerum...
Estis pulcherrimus angelus
Estis un ambulans somnium
Et salva me
Carpe diem, carpe noctum
Bellātor angelicus,
Carpe vitam.

(English translation)

For the boy...
You are the most beautiful angel
You are a walking dream
You help me
Seize the day, seize the night
Angelic warrior,
Seize the life.

- Jay M
February 3rd, 2022
Felt like writing in Latin. I think I did okay?
Donall Dempsey Nov 2019
NON SERVIAM

Even at 7
found Catholic transubstantiation

hard to swallow.

Much preferred the Protestant
metaphor better.

The priest exposing the host
in the monstrance

the congregation bowing
in veneration.

"Corpus Domini nostri..."

Now...holy cow
Jesus is leaping

from the tip of my tongue
Christ...clinging

to my palate hanging
on for dear life

before going to pieces
slipping down my...gulp

. . .oe... soph...a...gus .

". . .In vitam eternam. Amen."

The incense from the thurible
as it sways

making me feel so
si...aghhhhh...ck!

Me a little Lucifer
a lightbringer ...my own morning star.

Afraid I am
going to throw

Him up

the second coming
as I sit in my pew and stew

transubstantiation is
the pits.
Et si sain de corps et d'esprit
Je donnais mon coeur à ta science ?
Par quoi commencerais-tu?
Me dissèquerais-tu à distance
En fredonnant
Au bistouri électronique
Sans gants et sans masque
Et sans anesthésie ?
Ou me mettrais-tu sous sérum
Pour recueillir mon consentement
LIBRE ET ÉCLAIRÉ
Avant d'opérer à coeur ouvert
De sang-froid, sans assistance ?

Et une fois prélevé ce coeur battant
Le conserverais-tu vitam aeternam
Dans le formol ou l 'azote liquide ?

Ou alors carrément la neige carbonique ?

Et si d'aventure tu procédais à la greffe
De mes veines et artères
Au C.H.U. de l'au-delà des mers
Me transplanterais-tu
Par avion sanitaire
Jusqu'à ce cocotier patient
Où repose depuis des lustres
Mon nombril séché ?

Si et seulement si c 'était toi la chirurgienne
Permets que je formule un voeu :
Prépare-moi avant l 'acte
Juste un plat fêté de riz galanga, pâtes, gombos
Et coquilles Saint-Jacques
Bien assaisonnées.
Non, merci, c'est gentil, mais pas de dessert !
Juste un dernier petit café pour la route
Avec un sucre de sourire-poème
Au goût de carotte et de pêche.

— The End —