| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/15/2007 2:27:55 AM | Lost in the Bermuda
in triangles of your love
whispering warm winds of your words
unveiling the cloak of my sanity
striving to find heavenly Atlantis
Irresistible falling into the
deepest oceans of devotion
drowning in insanities
I fear to go over the edge
into your world
Spirited you are; as you enter mine | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/16/2007 1:32:22 PM | | AA, this poem is beautiful and artistic. I've reread it several times. I truly enjoyed it. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/16/2007 1:32:53 PM | Too drift...
Even unto the Elysian birds
Doth man sing in silence
Glare’n into the crystal-diamonds
Of unwept muses through veins unheard
As mellifluous signs abruptly settle
Melodramatic chants walk the sands
Midsummer with sol infuses the lands
While palatial skies sound thru cellos
The nomic ways of daisy-chains
In the twinkle of a lost faith
Returns from escape as risen wraiths
Renew Dionysian passions aflame
How dulcet to ears the claim of amour
Soothing which once was left whet
The heart of one atwitter, nay, unkept
Now angst from suffer’n dolor no more | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/16/2007 2:03:21 PM | | Dear Joshua...I think I recognize some of me in "Too Drift". | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/16/2007 2:32:52 PM |   True.....yoko....me and you both!
Drifting out unto the sea
like millions of plank.....set free
Only to find at the end of the flow
Missing so much
encouragment is shown
I wonder when or where this shall end
Maybe in depths I cannot understand
Could be within the sand
on the shore
Living like crabs........
always wishing for more!
 | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/16/2007 3:11:30 PM | Yoko, Jules: artistic, keen, wise and true; women of great understanding. I wish I could explain this particular poem, especially its origin; but I’m still trying to figure it out in detail myself.
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I love the voice I here in your poem, Jules. I truly do. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/16/2007 3:12:05 PM | What was David’s Emblem-secret?
into his souls garth wended the winds/
whereupon his mind fell majestic jinns/
but in the umbrage is a bier of tenet-diamonds/
stalking this man, even unto his glasshouse island/
that made alive was soon haunted by auguries/
predictions that benighted the sun’s dowries/
he sits in the reticent lough of his mind unclear/
meditating upon whispers’, tenet souvenirs/
would to God he echoes in chant/
attic-wisdom from deep his Ba echoes back/
“‘find the halcyon brae, find, and ye feel free to pray’”/
he grabs his lyre and thereby panics allayed/
but a tinge of dolor, patiently cringes in the grey. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/17/2007 9:00:02 PM | An eventful 3 hours….
Mother new refuge, and took such in a secret.
Father new invisibility, and became the invisible man.
I walked to the corner and conversed with the fenced up wolf. He’s an old fort; and thus, he just stared at me. I walked away into the blank distance. I can see that God is in a good mood today, for the man who lives in a box is eating a decent meal; and guess what, he offered to share. I told him I couldn’t, and continued my aimless journey to that place where wisdom can offend you.
Once upon her haven, I could sense that the thoughts had hit harder than usual. I could see that everything must turn out perfect. Thus, I kept hostage my curve balls. But even I can grow weary of playing dumb. Nevertheless, there’s a lady who hangs out near the alley, I slow down just to watch her. She has this strange look in her eyes, and she keeps chanting: “today is the day.”
There’s a Best Buy six blocks to the right. I stop in. Channel 40 is on. I figure, why not a quick dose of guilt. The preacher comes on; and he says: “your faith is only as large as your donation, hows about a thousand dollar gift for Jesus.” Now isn’t this amazing: here we are living in the last days, depressed and waiting; and Jesus has asked you to put together a collection for him. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/18/2007 3:59:44 PM | An eventful labyrinth…
From atop the Church Temple
Through the attic-dungeon
To the back door of ancient’s glasshouse
We take leisure to the wilderness of forever
Through the crevices of this wild jungle
We stir our tread contrary the path of Foxgloves
But the Siamese cats weren’t as fortuitous
They nibbled upon the Deadly-nightshade
There’s an Angel’s-Trumpet waxing nigh
We change our course and settle while
Conversing ‘twixt eating our bitter gourd
An impala sits 4 fathoms yon agazed in trance
We continue out trek to stumble upon an armadillo
Funny looking rat with a shell, it just kept gnaw’n
At the dirt pay’n us no mind content wit being seen
While 2 fathoms left stalked a dragon like a chameleon
We just smiled at the pronghorn antelopes
Waved as they stared at us strange looking creatures, then
In the heart of distraction one became a cheetah’s meal
Cheetahs move with stealth, celerity, and aesthetic viciousness
Thought it in our best interest to get back atop the
Church temple, so we exited our leisure of the wilderness of forever
Into the back door of ancient’s glasshouse
Through the attic-dungeon, back atop where ferrets had taken over | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/18/2007 5:04:01 PM | *Charismatic Refraction*
Albino Rainbows, flushed and colorless, pour into an empty pot
and leprechauns are waving wand-less hands through thickened air
as my demands dissolve and lucky stars are snuffed like candles
on a clouded night when incandescent bulbs are burning ever bright.
Four leaf clovers loose a leaf and wilt like all my wishes do
when sunshine seeps through my opaque shattered glass existence. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/18/2007 7:16:05 PM | What's going on Tim? I hope that all is well with you. This poem is deep!
The last couplet is a fantastic ending. It's good to see you posting again. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/18/2007 7:16:32 PM | Séance…
I search’d out for melancholy… but was given peace.
From the mind of dolor’s abeyance… I was incarnated balance.
I drained the wineberry… mixed it with the cloudberry…
Fermented Sophia’s elixir… and consumed my fool’s paradise.
Within the soul’s forest… I climb’d the old world sycamore tree.
This power is exhilarating… this feeling is addictive.
The secrets unlock to me. The whispers become flesh for me. I am spirit here in me.
Who can but express this awakening? Who can but embrace this living? | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/18/2007 8:23:41 PM | Un Riddle the Universe!
Simpatico to that first breath, is the birth of the
Pneuma in the mind’s soul. Who can but articulate
The Truth? The unadulterated passion of spirit.
There’s a large presence in this man’s soul.
Let us but surmise about this other. This
Kafkaesque manifest surging throughout this
Universe. Let us cultivate this touch. This, if we
Must confess it, Noumenon. Polyglot tongues rage
Forth exploding within the veins of the cosmos. And
Divinities junoesque treasure, Wisdom; desperately
Thirsts to besprinkle the spirit’s of living belief; to
Besprinkle us with the great Thought. She, I, He, all
But labeled as fantast. Should we retreat! Should we
Forsake the living in hope for the dead! O this ethereal
Flame. Burn Flame…Burn! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/18/2007 8:54:28 PM | Non Compos Mentis (“Not of Sound Mind”)
Aside a Jaguar the sun awoke. Man was filled with mania.
Quickly into the Black-Forest we sought refuge. We entered
The caves. Daresay I that we were fearful. As if to say,
We were all pulled into the great Black-Mass. Taboo fruits
Engulfed this surrealism. Blackly lit and quavering, we all
Ambulated towards the Black-Mountains hidden in-depth
The back this abyss, only to be taunted by the Black-magic.
Suddenly the Black-damp ensued abrasive. Devilish
Vibrations waged war on our senses. We were all bereft
Of self-control. Megrims overtook our hearts. Peccant
Prayers ushered from out our minds. We met the thought
Of our spirits. From phlegmatic to feverishly insane we chanted.
We were entranced by the Febrile Mania. The emptiness opened
To us. Daymares attacked our person. We were hagridden. In the
Back trenches we could hear the fall of the maniacal guffaw. The
Walls begin to speak in tongues. Thinking it all merely phrenic,
We jumped out of our brains. Then the crestfallen angst disappeared.
Abed, we all awoke, with permanent scars upon our imaginations. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/19/2007 8:47:44 PM | Limpid….
In heart a holy chant
Your face appears to me
I apologize for adding to
The uncertainty
Never was my intention
To cause vagueness, in
Truth, you are a beautiful
Woman, but destiny placed
Us on different journeys
I wish unto you a blessed
Existence, I wish upon you
Peace of mind
I saw something grieving in
You, and I’m sorry for
What I’ve seen
I feel as if I have trespassed
Encroached upon your silence | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/19/2007 9:07:42 PM | War with Dolor….
In that exact silence
i sit athirst for Truth ---
For an essence that is
Larger than the pain i
See --- but shall i heal
The soul’s megrims ---
Shall i become --- shall
i escape this daymare!
Dolor has haunted many.
Dolor has made many famous.
Some that perished in fame. And
Others… merely exploited her.
I give dolor back to indecision.
I now doubt dolor’s power…
Dolor’s conviction… I take
Dolor to war now… I send dolor
To hell! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/19/2007 9:13:21 PM | In morals I dwell and pride I sit
Biting on tongues of guilt
Holding back tears of sadness and pain
A downpour of empathetic rain
And when the wind blows my heart swells
And when the sun sets glory and beauty fall into
me and in my heart joy does dwell
Love and light, day and night, wrong or right?
Crucifix hanging on the wall, reminding me of ancient songs
and stories told, I should heed, pacify my selfish quests and cease to fight
And you my shadow,
Living in a land where God no longer reigns
Not knowing the human cry of sorrow
For the other that lays in pain
Nonetheless, your dance is beautiful
It is steady, without all the bumps of joyful,
sorrowful, guilt-ridden, and regretful
You inflict pain,
yet are calm just the same
How are you not divine?
Aren't we the same?
Are you more divine than I for releasing what I claim? | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/20/2007 3:08:51 AM | I've stayed and sat awhile over this way/
powerful writes everyone....Indeed,it makes one pause
This deep embodiment is but a vessel
garbed with humility
and with only faith as the rudder
to guide
to ponder through these rough seas
suffering
beyond the jagged winds
loving past the pain
and still yet
futher beyond
to the other side of pain...
one will find something much greater
A place where his wisdom awaits
and heaven's melodies
restore
this vital breath,
this vital core...
And maybe to a secular world...
I am
but just a dreamer
building
preparing air castles
out of nothing at all
But I know of this temporary place
touching
moving me from a distance
And at this place...no more darkness
casting it's shadows upon the soul...
a place and time"she" needs no sleep
And yes,
to many
I am
still
but just a dreamer..... | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/20/2007 5:01:03 PM | Jesyka…. This poem is awesome. And it’s always a pleasure to read you work.
Casheyesblond…. Awesome poem as well! I always see a great deal in everyone’s poetry, but it’s not my place to say too much. Just know that I see!
I thank you both for dropping by. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/20/2007 5:51:54 PM | Life becomes
A friend of the drained sky she is
Looking deep into the blue river
But there we see no holy grail, just is
Just thoughts of tremendous doubt
Grandmother alluded excessively much
Sat straight up, spoke clearly to the wall
And gave suspicion a home to dwell in
Where cloudberries became great friends, sincerely
Up the street
There’s a lady who’s dying, a woman of great beauty
But she can’t see with eyes of logic
So I ignore her karma
Because death is in her spirit, she adores the Death | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/20/2007 6:41:00 PM | Aqua sheets that fold and furl imperfectly.
Dishes always set clean to dry on their rack.
The corners where the floor meets the kitchen wall need cleaning,
Each day a new knot clenches along the spine of her back.
Floral dresses that crease and fall provocatively
between tired legs, it's fabric tightening across and
between thickening thighs,
Dry, craked heels split deeper and wider with each laborous sigh.
Every day she's dying, every day she cracks a little more.
Her hair is frizzing at the hairline,
it's not as smoothe and kept as years before.
Her hands are cracked from dishsoap and javel
And her belly just aint the same around her navel
But like those old thick trees, she gets stronger as she goes
There's something raw about that power
Chills to the bone
But she keeps it as a gift for those passing thru her home. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/20/2007 6:42:20 PM | | Thanks for all the inspiring writes! They're a pleasure to read and think about ... | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/20/2007 9:22:36 PM | Lovely writes....J.......just want you to know...love your writes! As all the others here...words just flow..like the rain....and a tear!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Memories Never Melt!~~~~~~~~~~~
Remember those words you never said to me!
Kinda like a tear........and a memory!
The things you never said.....before you left
The words you couldn't say.........
Too damn bereft.........
Why do these words in me a memory waken?
Like the strength of a thunderbolt.......
Like a tree that is shaken'?
A feeling....I cannot express with words.........
Just a goodbye.....without the sword?
Vanishing love......leaves me and then..........
I pursue something.........
I cannot forget!
Never did know...or heard of the reason..........
Damn...baby.....was I just your out of season?
Sorry...that my heart could not forget....
A love so real..........didn't want to part!
What is wrong with this haunting dream?
It brought so many tears...
my soul was so strained!
Hidden pain....and I hid it good!
Seems it hasn't even come until now!
As I clutch my heart.........and gasp in pain
Always now knowing will be more rain........
I know you destroyed...what I felt in my heart~!
Another lost soul..........on a ghost ship....departed!
I cannot forget.....but I do ...now forgive!
My life is my own...and I do try to live
The ghost is uncaptured....and yet.......
unrevealed...........
though deep in my heart ..........
I cannot forgive!
The song it has ended....
I fall into the lull
of another lullabuy.............
but there is no more bull!
Just know every time I feel the tear start to fall............
I empty my ashtray..........
Full moon does call............
What is my saddest....lonliest memory?
It would be me and you............
Almost a tear..........almost a memory!
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/20/2007 11:59:24 PM | Thanx for the "air" over here everyone/
And jesyka....nice tag at the end of your write
But like those old thick trees, she gets stronger as she goes
There's something raw about that power
Chills to the bone
But she keeps it as a gift for those passing thru her home ....kewl!
Fallen leaves
may sometimes
get tossed into a medicated damper
sleep walking their way through life
never seeking more
or beyond a temporary situation
And with branches forever bending
from trying to fit in
along the way
will eventually break
and wither
to a nothingness
while conforming
into it's mainstream shape....
But the testament
of power is truly in the root of the tree....
Indeed,"the root" lives on.... | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 7/21/2007 5:30:30 PM | | These poems are so touching. I've reread them several times. I truly appreciate every read. I thank you all for posting here. | |
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