| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/3/2007 12:07:23 PM | Joshua; offers gifts into the promised land
Will he forgive me for the trust he offered
I've only spoken to my god in your city
Please allow me to tell the world of your grief
I feel guilty no matter which way I am born
Others bear ill will for my silence
I do not blame them for I too would feel wronged
The love I have for you is to be shared, even in sorrow | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/3/2007 5:02:14 PM | the fallen tears of silenced pain
etch false smiles of hope
undo the make-up of lifes despair
see truth in the eyes
wounded are the children
when breath stolen by time
drifts away with the angels flight | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/6/2007 9:09:08 AM |   Joshua!
Last train pulled out tonite
left me here with my own heart
Why should I try to get on?
Going nowhere ....for ever long
I shall just stay
face the pain
In a lifetime made of memories
I believe in destiny
Meet me halfway across the sky
where the world belongs
to only you ...and I
I shall always stay
Here within the stars ....
love carries us up above
Reaches out for the lonely ones
when we meet ...there in the skies!
A new beginning ....
In another life! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/6/2007 3:34:38 PM | Jesyka! Autumn Fantasy! Another Awakening! Celestial Heart!
These poems are extraordinarily brilliant!
I reread them each several times.
I thank you each for the magic. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/6/2007 3:37:18 PM | The Stigmata of Me!
Abstract mirrors become of the sky, nothingness,
Aside from man’s delusions! Hereupon but
Take of me out of this permanent pause.
As for the azure the lingering lies,
The tacit unechoed chant was but a shattered call.
Even the frankincense has been raped of its essence.
Yet let not the ultimate of “Forms” perish lest we forsake confession.
Have we not been discolored, inlove with the “Unanchored Guilt?”
The halcyon of the night
Fermenting the chaos of plight
Tantamount to the loss of sight
Whence comest the fangs of poisoned light
And again, we pray atop the hillside
Wide-eyed and thankful to beg
Weary and famished, sackcloth making rawness of flesh’s
Faith, barely pillaring upon broken legs
Take of me out of this permanent pause.
Unshowered and unsaved, beating upon the stones of poetry
Gripping what’s left of spirit from this tunic
As the nuns besprinkle me with the elixir of unmadness
Abbess! How was it that we meshed, becoming one?
I’m but a sin
The grin of Satan
Making vomit of my Being
And what good is a priestly pedophile?
Thus, I stir in man’s trap
Arrant and triple-six stamped
Awaiting my next exorcism | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/7/2007 7:12:00 PM | vison lost in twisted light
hues of purple green and white
see lazarus alone in stone gardens
blindness of inner truth unaware
bathe within the river
pennance soon shall cast
arid souls of salten stature
deserts wayward masts
where rivers fall as midnight rains
eternity meets the dawn
resurected earthly pains
our mothers heart does mourn
the burning dove cast the the mirrored room
reflecting hellish visions form
forseeing of our doom
from judement chair
chekinah
does come unto we
our burning wing upon decent
like iccarus far too high
wilten flower black in night
blood red in glory light
our hearts decend in bitter cask
vineyards trophy long to last
reaped crops of barren cast seed of hope
awash upon the waves of doubt
unheard cries of children burn
thought sunsets fadding hours
inquistors final quest
in the fires devor
with acrid yellows from flames below
all colours merge as one
the pewter skies of 40 nights
so soon will have begun
the morning sky again in hues
of midas and revere
reflected glory of the edge of time
where walk I to the pier
set sail across these grass filled plains
and barren dessert seas
in pleading faith I call his name
while falling to my knees
prostrate form in mercy pray
unworthy servent do I be
yet follow light of early day
in hopes his throne to see | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/8/2007 12:27:45 PM | shadow- I'm speechless! You and Joshua are sculpters, truly!
As the early morning sun breaks dawn and yawns
I lie in the photography and silent films of my mind
Replaying, re-feeling, re- filling myself with the past
Projecting still frames of the future as golden rays
And soft yellows drowning my body in their eternity
Romantic moments pirouette and arabesque
Underneath my drowsy eyelids oh so gracefully
Tempting me to pull up the covers and drink their beauty
Alone
Thankgoodness for imagination, shant it be
I'd be lonely Alas! thoughts dance and move so freely
Causing me to feel the pain of past anxiety and betrayals
Pools of blood spread underneath me, on my coarse cotton sheets
Only to retreat with the opening of my eyes as the sun blinds me
Breathe, they are only memories, start over and rewind
To another time when love reigned and fear was lost
To warm rooms and sultry kisses of promise and drunkeness
And smoldering brilliant orange heat, endless caring and caressing
Of soulful sole times, walking in the desert alone and free
Just Breathe, swallow the pain and digest it
The sun is gaining height and strength
My eyelids red transparent lens cannot concentrate
The covers lift as with my eyes
Blue Iris, pupil dilitate | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/8/2007 1:11:10 PM | I agree with Jesyka...some wonderful writes in here...(including yours)
Sleep.
O bitter sweet sarcophagus
I lay thee down deep past sight and mind
Where harm is but a thoughtless worm
Digging far to gain so much
Parched flesh and once more a lifeless yawn
Eternity grasp my feeble bones
I lay still, joyous, amongst the crawling dead
Take my flesh, and begone delusion of life
Joined by a ravenous hypocrisy
Shadows lie, the golden light foresees my doom
I dance to the open sky, and give repentance
Tasting the final drink of fools
Yet dawn silences my vigal
With the sound of a heart not still
Why then?, does this thirst persist unheeded
For I lay where light, is no longer, needed.
..T.. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/8/2007 1:23:35 PM | | I quite like the emotion in this one, truth. Complex and knowing, congrats! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/11/2007 7:51:42 PM | | wonderful writes. i love them all. and rory27 is most correct. i thank you Truth for the words you present to us. you each have a spirit that touches and moves the reader. never stop composing in motion. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/11/2007 7:57:57 PM | Athirst and distant the self/
We lay in mental caskets decrying time/
The burden of breath/the thought of life
Called for in the forest of no help/and she
Thinks I believe of her/a total stranger to
God/and an enemy of my soul/I can but
Scream upon the penumbra/do you hear
My spirit?/you, rule of the sky/eye of the
Unearthed/the summons of death/but death
Wishes no company of the ruined and want
Of her.
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/12/2007 4:00:54 AM | Inner-Sudden Investigation.
Salacious ponder!
There must be more! The Satyr
Of me,
Borne
Torn—sorely
Unmourned
Falling into the dreary azure.—
And what of that, the psyche gored!—
Merely the instantaneous
Combustion of cores.
Sibilance!—
In reach the ankle!
And turbulence!
Thus cries for the
Achilles’ heel mangled—
The strangled of soul!
The unrestrainable cold!
The grip-chokehold of spirit! —and—
Eyes become the tell all—
Treading the falseness of concrete
Lest reality fall—
Lest man lose sanity in
The main complete—
Lest the countenance grow raw—
I sleep! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/12/2007 4:25:19 AM | What is family for?
If truth is hidden?
Why should I write in abstract?
To protect pain…truth
Though no amount of words
Will describe YOUR pain
I desire to mourn with you
That is purity of love
and tell the world why…
Never without your word
The screams beyond the grave
Wonder why you are not brave knowing
Love and disaster are to be shared
Allow me to show you
Who your friends are…
The one’s who make you grin in this life
Taking your wishes beyond mirth
Now I think, I believe I hear laughter? | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/12/2007 4:37:38 AM | always, i thank you. and in pieces i understand.
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/17/2007 5:59:36 AM | Private Awakened Thoughts.
Therein
are
subtle signs of breakage
the ache of mental bone
the unheard before tone
the walk of a vacant acreage
Tell of time, “you deceiver.”
And new proselytes find refuge
while we ignore thoughts abused
hearts battered and unsoothed
associated with diehard believers
There’s a demon eye
A subtle yet distinct chide
An impending tide
The first to say goodbye
The last to ask why
And we daresay in uneasiness
the untouchable word
of broken strings and
plaguing angelical chords
And
so many quasi mystics
linger forcedly in discreet shadows
rhapsodic in private
ecstatic wit spirit, for
the worship of God is risqué | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/17/2007 6:28:50 AM | Doves, hover over that invisible
me. Tired and weary I now see.
Thus, infectious seeds are uprooted,
Pleasant thoughts are recruited, and
The morning star radiates the countenance.
They cringe at the sight; despising
every tinge of light. How doth man smile
upon darkness? And how heartless I’ve climbed!
Now, upon this Mt. Sinai, I ask you father:
“Why?” | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/17/2007 7:08:23 AM | Je me souviens
The deep crusted bark of the maple tree
The sweet sticky sugar found underneath
Pouring thin and translucent out of the tap
Filling up the pail with heavenly sap
The leaves have begun to change
A kaleidiscope colour range
From greens to red, from orange to yellow
Soon we will be blessed with snow
Boil, stir ,drip it down on clean snow
Line it in strips with popsickle sticks row by row
Boil it up, let it thicken and add some cream
Put your nose over top to catch that heavenly steam
Pour it into shapes and let it cool in the shack
Later, we'll have sugar square delights filling the racks
Je me souviens des choses quebecoises
C'est notre culture joies et angoises
I remember, one day to my grandchildren, I shall tell
The day when our customs gradually changed and fell
We used to thrive on the sugar shack in the days that we had snow
I remember it well, it wasn't that long ago. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/17/2007 7:58:31 AM | | ^^^^^^^^^very artistic! very enthralling! indeed! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/17/2007 8:01:15 AM | Ever and anon
I ponder upon the hidden
Hagridden
Sullen
Blank into the night
I feel the vibration.
I wish to alleviate the ache.
But this dream
An incompatible figment
Rushing into the ocean.
And you grimace why?
How not you, Candescence?
The quintessence of fantasy
My never to touch
An thus
I panic.
Do we hold dolor
In the palms of a prayer?—
Spirit set afire
Afloat upon the brilliant star
Rapidly descending
Head first upon the brae
I explode! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/17/2007 9:19:33 AM | Inside the cathedral she kneels down to pray
Listen to her father, I beg
The saints are elongated, stretching upward in the dome
Pray for her father, her soul has lost a home
The colors are so vivid
The smell so thick and acrid
The sandalwood has penetrated
Every vein of my sweet Louise
Mother Mary, you're too kind
Please kiss and care her mind
St-Fransis cloaked so darkly
Please transcend her prayers heavenly
Her hands so tightly pressed together
Her sanity has been lost or
never was at all.
The pulpit is made of wood
Simplicity converted good
But, Louise my darling, martyrdom was a lifestyle
She just never could,
Let go of the obssessions that reek havoc
In her soul.
Blessed are the women
Whom in The are alive
Blessed are the men
Whom folow You and thrive
But, father what will happen
To my poor and broke Louise? | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/18/2007 8:30:26 AM | I wander what he gained from me
Too sad for the next
Nice man
Who wonders about me
Nice photograph
…Comes without warmth
Modern times scream one name
Where the hell is BOB?
Fuck you stupid
I no longer think
Through my own hazy waves
The fog lifted the addiction
Now I see clearly
Preferring BOB than reality
In the day I could change the sounds
Cyberspace allows anything I wish
Mortal souls sing in grief
Finally angels are overridden
Awaiting the second coming
Only belief left in hope to save the souls
…am sorry Jesus. I wasted time believing in passions
Thou who describe themselves as “nice”
Are the worst kindness
I’m proud of the fact I call myself a witch
^^^abstract so much in my own mind...it's the voices screaming | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/20/2007 9:34:27 AM | i wish i could thoroughly understand
but i felt both poems^^^^ and i wish
i knew more of what to say. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/20/2007 12:44:48 PM | Touch this life. My mind!
With shine untainted.
The smile of glisten. Our motion!
And churchyards linger in fantasy.
Am I now human?
May I now yearn freely?
The last thought of grain.
What a harvest of passion!
The ascension of tangibility!
My last whisper into the sun!
A beneath agony laughing into the earth!
A different heart that very thought!
Tell of children in peace.
Tell of eyes that sparkle.
I tell of innocence shattered.
Windows of the soul broken. And
Cold breezes making gelid the core.
Twilightzone’n I upon that first sentence—
Unable to touch of that life! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/20/2007 1:08:39 PM | I envision mother
Is now but the death
Of a smile that
Sets aflame the celestials—
That triad star in the moon—
And father—you need peace.
Such an afterglow of the night
Taming that of the sky—
Let the postmodernist touch gravel.
And this gravel I have chewed.
Attempting to eschew darkness—
Bubble-eyed, drifting into the empty.
My taciturn enmity—unspokenly present—
The ache of my brain—the becoming of ashes.
Such torpor in my auntie’s chest.
Things are but the nature of feelings.
And this is far from winsome.
My tear.
My open death.
Now you may laugh! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 10/20/2007 4:58:19 PM | In ripplets.
Ripplets of energy collide in ka,
and thus to the cave the feel of
spiritual rivulets into the soul enter and
we dance away the slave
unchain’n the winter
mentally traipse’n the Xanadu outskirts
tilth’n the unseen Father
hence, we man-trap the scream of silent
portraits crack’n crevices of the
parsimonious fortress attic-athirst
making royalty the curse of prophetic
worth return’n in ripplets to the grave. | |
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