I only post really long poems now i guess
2021: A love affair through transience
"In the beginning there was light. Let there be light! And it was good"
From the past readings legends of Lemuria
Came knowledge gleaned of ambition
Of men who from the fixed stars came
Sustaining societies on their intuition.
The LORD reached into the grass and the malleable sky
And one brought forth one circle.
One circle drawn cursive in the sand,
Smelted pensive in the sky,
Brought back versed inside human minds.
From the vantage point on the circle
Degree number 354 of 360 equal parts
As arbitrarily divided as to
Perceive the shape itself,
Sat man.
That celestial visitor,
That divine inquisitor, forsaked
Wisdom left behind for transience.
He faked an orgasm moving between
Domiciles safe and clean
Settled beneath the hollyhocks
Along a street so easy in angles
And took his profession in the watching
Of the clocks.
Reflected as humanity as a whole
The level of consciousness where consciousness becomes conscious of itself.
Prophecies and stories
Laid out spread their delicacies
Along the gilded tabletop.
The chair man sat in was alabaster and chrome
Cold along his spine with eyes closed.
But the wafting of the smells
Like the ringing of lost bells
Lost like bells unrang was he to
Wisdom lost beneath the waves.
Few bells were sounded in the chapels
Above the city’s sun and rising knaves.
I would set my ear against the sand
To hear the whimpering of the stories
The prophecies so sleepy in their winter-clothes;
I watch the light reflected upon the land.
Three o’clock was the hour, on the beach.
I would have this be true this be true
What continued from my fathers to you,
He saw through you her memory
So fixed beneath the moon and sun
(oh two spinning circles)
Brought forth reason for all to see.
And reason’s rickety bridge,
That narrow cave where seven men
Pluck out-of-tune violins,
Is where we took our rest
With words for me from you.
Is where muddled voices and slender fingers fed through:
Quiet hymn. Loud hymn.
Hymns resounding off the distance,
Hymns returning as riders from silken roads
Richer from life in other lands.
And hands held hands held
Above was one trinity birthed back with fruits eaten
And involved we sat to consider it through reason
Quite ironic, as the vain painter
Would consider herself to be creation.
Spirit - which with wax paper wings would soar
Above the scant city blocks,
With boundless age it soared.
And for you,
And for I,
We considered only the clocks,
To reserve days for each other.
But days wound and counted would spring faster out of the gate,
Traced concentrically to involve one another,
Shorter,
Fleeting southwards.
Matter - Domiciles of the eternal “I’s,”
Shifting into one another,
Painting murals, building bi-planes
For flights to visit older brothers.
And creations felt got misconstrued
By “I have made this from my thoughts of you;”
After the painful childbirth,
But before the delicate delivery.
Reason - was the rickety bridge connecting
And was sat while the wind blew.
We grew cold beneath
The sounds of the violins,
And men who grinned
Having figured out
Everything.
And man would sit there
Beneath a roof or behind a screen,
Creating with his mind
Some thoughts of you and me.
And man wonders about his fathers
Man dreams about his passing days.
Building cities with conscious thought
Along the dunes, constructing quays.
Lemuria is a remembered dream
Atlantis falls into fairytales.
And the stars from which we came are obscured,
Uncharted.
The LORD reached into the grass and the malleable sky
And one brought forth one circle.
One circle drawn cursive in the sand,
Smelted pensive in the sky,
Brought back versed inside human minds.
The circle accelerating and decelerating
With I on degree number 354 of
360 equal parts.
I watched the carts roll away
I sat creating with my dreams
And turned the lifted city leaves
Rapidly into autumn.
Would one cry or smile?
"In the beginning there was light. Let there be light! And it was good"
From the past readings legends of Lemuria
Came knowledge gleaned of ambition
Of men who from the fixed stars came
Sustaining societies on their intuition.
The LORD reached into the grass and the malleable sky
And one brought forth one circle.
One circle drawn cursive in the sand,
Smelted pensive in the sky,
Brought back versed inside human minds.
From the vantage point on the circle
Degree number 354 of 360 equal parts
As arbitrarily divided as to
Perceive the shape itself,
Sat man.
That celestial visitor,
That divine inquisitor, forsaked
Wisdom left behind for transience.
He faked an orgasm moving between
Domiciles safe and clean
Settled beneath the hollyhocks
Along a street so easy in angles
And took his profession in the watching
Of the clocks.
Reflected as humanity as a whole
The level of consciousness where consciousness becomes conscious of itself.
Prophecies and stories
Laid out spread their delicacies
Along the gilded tabletop.
The chair man sat in was alabaster and chrome
Cold along his spine with eyes closed.
But the wafting of the smells
Like the ringing of lost bells
Lost like bells unrang was he to
Wisdom lost beneath the waves.
Few bells were sounded in the chapels
Above the city’s sun and rising knaves.
I would set my ear against the sand
To hear the whimpering of the stories
The prophecies so sleepy in their winter-clothes;
I watch the light reflected upon the land.
Three o’clock was the hour, on the beach.
I would have this be true this be true
What continued from my fathers to you,
He saw through you her memory
So fixed beneath the moon and sun
(oh two spinning circles)
Brought forth reason for all to see.
And reason’s rickety bridge,
That narrow cave where seven men
Pluck out-of-tune violins,
Is where we took our rest
With words for me from you.
Is where muddled voices and slender fingers fed through:
Quiet hymn. Loud hymn.
Hymns resounding off the distance,
Hymns returning as riders from silken roads
Richer from life in other lands.
And hands held hands held
Above was one trinity birthed back with fruits eaten
And involved we sat to consider it through reason
Quite ironic, as the vain painter
Would consider herself to be creation.
Spirit - which with wax paper wings would soar
Above the scant city blocks,
With boundless age it soared.
And for you,
And for I,
We considered only the clocks,
To reserve days for each other.
But days wound and counted would spring faster out of the gate,
Traced concentrically to involve one another,
Shorter,
Fleeting southwards.
Matter - Domiciles of the eternal “I’s,”
Shifting into one another,
Painting murals, building bi-planes
For flights to visit older brothers.
And creations felt got misconstrued
By “I have made this from my thoughts of you;”
After the painful childbirth,
But before the delicate delivery.
Reason - was the rickety bridge connecting
And was sat while the wind blew.
We grew cold beneath
The sounds of the violins,
And men who grinned
Having figured out
Everything.
And man would sit there
Beneath a roof or behind a screen,
Creating with his mind
Some thoughts of you and me.
And man wonders about his fathers
Man dreams about his passing days.
Building cities with conscious thought
Along the dunes, constructing quays.
Lemuria is a remembered dream
Atlantis falls into fairytales.
And the stars from which we came are obscured,
Uncharted.
The LORD reached into the grass and the malleable sky
And one brought forth one circle.
One circle drawn cursive in the sand,
Smelted pensive in the sky,
Brought back versed inside human minds.
The circle accelerating and decelerating
With I on degree number 354 of
360 equal parts.
I watched the carts roll away
I sat creating with my dreams
And turned the lifted city leaves
Rapidly into autumn.
Would one cry or smile?