{"id":7292,"date":"2021-05-04T16:49:47","date_gmt":"2021-05-04T16:49:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/?p=7292"},"modified":"2023-07-08T10:19:40","modified_gmt":"2023-07-08T10:19:40","slug":"lord-dermond-the-mortal-words","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/posts\/lord-dermond-the-mortal-words\/","title":{"rendered":"Lord Dermond – The Mortal Words"},"content":{"rendered":"
    \n
  1. the eternal muse<\/a><\/li>\n
  2. unforgiven<\/a><\/li>\n
  3. ode to a young girl<\/a><\/li>\n
  4. her hyacinth eye<\/a><\/li>\n
  5. violet sublime<\/a><\/li>\n
  6. evening on church street<\/a><\/li>\n
  7. patti\ufffds prayer<\/a><\/li>\n
  8. the wake<\/a><\/li>\n
  9. the monumental grunt<\/a><\/li>\n
  10. o\ufffd manifesto<\/a><\/li>\n
  11. the holy men<\/a><\/li>\n
  12. renaissance man<\/a><\/li>\n
  13. charred remains<\/a><\/li>\n
  14. evening litany<\/a><\/li>\n
  15. alexis trailorpark<\/a><\/li>\n
  16. rushmore at sunset<\/a><\/li>\n
  17. speaks to the soul of man<\/a><\/li>\n
  18. the unknown beheld<\/a><\/li>\n
  19. in sight<\/a><\/li>\n
  20. gone dead<\/a><\/li>\n
  21. to recover yourself<\/a><\/li>\n
  22. ragged senses and sundered selves<\/a><\/li>\n
  23. ritual winter<\/a><\/li>\n
  24. once more for alexis<\/a><\/li>\n
  25. full of grace<\/a><\/li>\n
  26. death of the kiss<\/a><\/li>\n
  27. the aftermath<\/a><\/li>\n
  28. life by fire<\/a><\/li>\n
  29. round her mortality<\/a><\/li>\n
  30. the dying sea<\/a><\/li>\n
  31. farewell girl<\/a><\/li>\n
  32. resurrection<\/a><\/li>\n
  33. the epitaph<\/a><\/li>\n
  34. soul to solitude<\/a><\/li>\n
  35. the witnessed prophecy<\/a><\/li>\n
  36. \ufffdtwilight lake\ufffd<\/a><\/li>\n
  37. the laughing tragedian<\/a><\/li>\n
  38. the yearling<\/a><\/li>\n
  39. the haunting summer<\/a><\/li>\n
  40. n. y. c.<\/a><\/li>\n
  41. the eternal<\/a><\/li>\n
  42. innocents<\/a><\/li>\n
  43. the deviled breast<\/a><\/li>\n
  44. my grief lies deep<\/a><\/li>\n
  45. angel of winter<\/a><\/li>\n
  46. womb of deceit<\/a><\/li>\n
  47. whispers of the eternal leaves<\/a><\/li>\n
  48. the mortal words<\/a><\/li>\n
  49. at the end of the path<\/a><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

    The Mortal Words<\/h3>\n

    “I am the master of the flaw. Nothing I do is very good, is very talented,
    \nbut the way I recover from it is exquisite (extraordinary, astonishing, endearing,
    \nprofoundly endearing, fairly beautiful).”<\/em>
    \n
    \n– R. Hell\n<\/p>\n

    \r\n\r\n\r\n... and so she stands still\r\nlike a rose among realness\r\nimperceptible.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nBy Lord Dermond\r\n[Daniel B. Dermond]\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nPublished by:\r\nBLAST PRESS<\/strong>\r\n324B Matawan Avenue\r\nCliffwood, NJ 07721\r\n\r\ngregglory@aol.com\r\ngregglory.com\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Eternal Muse<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nIn my soul, she lingers softly\r\nwithin the tenebrous haze and\r\nis now embodied by remoteness.\r\n\r\nEyes, that clutch sweet lavender\r\nfrom the rain perfected skies,\r\npassionately embrace all time\r\nas veiled perdition dies....\r\n\r\nInventing her solace, my angel\r\nconsumed a heart, not her own\r\nas I dreamed of her- adored her\r\nso divinely and unknown.\r\n\r\nShe will shine and hypnotize\r\nin cruelly naked radiance\r\nfor his distending gaze.\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Unforgiven<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nReturning to the sanest of light\r\nI do not escape trembling drowse\r\n\r\n   and recollections-regret!\r\n   My bloodied eye foretold,\r\n   compelled to disturb this\r\n   sinister grace. Remaining\r\n   as I will in hourly veils\r\n   awaiting the vilest soul.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Ode to a Young Girl<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nEntering upon this sanctity\r\nswept in by her uncertainty\r\nI peer inside a broken sense\r\nto reveal my shattered self.\r\n\r\nTides asunder, I loved her eyes\r\nclear as night in bloodless skies\r\ngreen like all her souls eternal,\r\nshe possesses all my whys.\r\n\r\nLone wraith of laughter, she\r\nsends color to my pale cheeks\r\nas I have loved and hated thee\r\nand scorned my own defeats.\r\n\r\nYour sweet mouth, Intoxication-\r\nI revel on your cold salt tears\r\nthat quench my fire, a sorceress\r\nmad, in sun-reddened tresses\r\n\r\nhurled to the sky! an angel has\r\npenetrated all this divine impurity-\r\nthat tempts her by passion and fears\r\nof dreaming, and I too, who confesses.\r\n\r\nSweet girl, lithe-limbed in\r\nthis heart\u2019s own creation- she is chosen\r\nto drown in my shrines of sacrifice, when\r\nsometimes I hear my own blood has frozen.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Her Hyacinth Eye<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nHer hyacinth eye,\r\nO\u2019 grandiloquent nimbus.\r\nAn eye canted, ebullient\r\nto the moonblind sea\r\nethereal, incessantly clenching\r\nuntilled verity.\r\nBelow enamelled sky, opulent\r\neyelids in a pondering\r\nballet\r\nof dispersed echoes\r\nmemories enchained,\r\nlike suffused litmus pools\r\nespousing melancholy\r\nto impinge my soul.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Violet Sublime<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nFrom the moment of her leavened inception\r\nupon a placid beam, eclipsing bloods\r\nshe rendered, her countenances redeemed.\r\nShe swims in strangled magenta pediments\r\nthat wend reinvented themes.\r\n\r\nHer sapient manacles of emollient light\r\nbend her blues! by dilation or those\r\nvast minions of rage that will rule\r\nand bring God to this wisdom created\r\namong her legions of coral rue.\r\n\r\nShe poured herself to reflected unison,\r\ncomplected in the insistently starred\r\nnight of lighthearted prosody that\r\nembraced her falling soul and elusive\r\nlight, playing to her fictive schemes.\r\n\r\nDoes our icy conception sequester and\r\ncongeal my maundering spirits, imposed?\r\nUnwrapped mists that her imaginings construe\r\nenfold me and pinch this disconsolate eye\r\nwith a most ephemeral hue.\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Evening on Church Street<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nPentecostal chimes summon saffron\r\nlights unfold rose in stone\r\nand shed these frail inceptions,\r\nour priested tear concedes.\r\nA tinctured church hoists\r\nthe cloistral barb and recedes\r\nto the impatient weather-prophet\r\nwho deludes the gradual moon.\r\n\r\n\u2018Impatient souls renewing tongues\r\nimposed angels conjure thy tune,\r\na braided ear inhales its ceaseless\r\ncry amid temporal swoon.\u2019\r\n\r\n...and so said Miss Straw\r\n   who strummed to us all,\r\n   with a love for words\r\n   and stories of the dead\r\n   wisteria she cared for\r\n   it troubled her so, orison\r\n   with unbuttoned head.\r\n\r\nShe held a poem to her heart.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Patti\u2019s Prayer<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nHer cool jeweled eyes met upon\r\na tug of lure, born of a sea\r\nand sky that conspire all time,\r\nfoam blanking the effulgent stone\r\nwave lapse into minuets of mime.\r\n\r\nThe ocean swells upon crystal\r\nsands and drops its sweet jade\r\nlike blame to the sullen shells.\r\nRimed wine left the stale taste\r\nof Jesus on her lips and remained\r\nas stars lie to naive skies and\r\nkiss veins in shy spores of light.\r\n\r\n\"Tonight it is clear\r\na good night to die\r\nor ride the virulent tide-\r\nride desires of sea and sky\r\nand purge my resurrection.\"\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Wake<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nIt\u2019s hard to rend ritual\r\nthat enflames my soul,\r\nwhen all is lost! alas\r\n(hope and the like)\r\nrusted bloods of retort.\r\n\r\n\"Generations upon generations came\r\non humps of wood with twisted brain.\"\r\n\r\nPurged heads stuffed\r\nwith gods, no centuries\r\nto hide my pain.\r\nWaters blanche my spirit\r\nat both ends\r\nlike Chinese fingertraps.\r\n\r\nChalice in terrified hands\r\nthey sing...\r\n\r\n\"Generations upon generations came\r\non humps of wood with twisted brain.\"\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Monumental Grunt<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nShe bathed in balded moon\u2019s\r\nWarm poultice, with quavering\r\nLip to the scarlet hissing\r\n\r\nShe bleeds essential form\r\nIn the rife sunlight, pearled\r\nAnd plucked.\r\n\r\nMelodious light, insurgent\r\nOn mended eye, exhaling pride\r\nTo unbidden suns, filial-\r\n\r\nEyelid in lecherous oration\r\nLike a rend communion wafer\r\nLimpid by the ruck.\r\n\r\nHesitancy of procession,\r\nMy vengeance of memories decay\r\nAnd dissuade.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    O\u2019 Manifesto<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nfor the girl of a laughter unheard <\/em>\r\n\r\nI\r\nO\u2019 elusive angel. What purpure penitence\r\ndoes she so eloquently bequeath unto me\r\nin a love without bound but so unrequited?\r\nMy sanctified soul\u2019s but a tendinous shell\r\ncoiled and pearled from within her as indigo\r\nsilks, spired in the blessed elements\r\nthat evolve among our intricate divinities.\r\nMy dried eye, slow rising in credent regale\r\nthe solemn temperance of her crescive blues,\r\nto summon up the virginal tear, she bestows\r\njeweled testimony with a shard marbled fist\r\nspeaking sacral tongues in infinite bliss.\r\n\r\nII\r\nO\u2019 lone one. What pondering mind will try\r\nto disfigure her in all this radiant still?\r\nShe was found in sabellian rue, glories!\r\nbound in ciphered light, sacramental\r\nand forever among cerulean vagrancy,\r\nthe exalted night for her reified raillery.\r\nHer vision enwounds like a velvet glove\r\nand cradles the hallows of this profane skull\r\nno centuries confined upon her to rely as\r\nshe swims within a purest of sky, entrancing\r\nmy memories that in a lingering song die-\r\nas she, obedient to beauty\u2019s last\r\npassing breath, pilfers laughter in a prayer.\r\n\r\nIII\r\nO\u2019 girl not my own. Why denied this embrace,\r\nwith I bereft of your most vermillion grace?\r\nYour suspended essences which dance eternally\r\nplay upon this loneliest of face, as you evolve\r\nin sweet orchid muses, from the dusts of the sea,\r\nthe incessant intellect of the living wind\u2019s plea.\r\nEyeballed moon casts its glinting wink upon\r\ndawn\u2019s foibles, inclined to sleep among the ilex,\r\nancient trees that imbrue hope on a hollow soul.\r\nYou exhale revelation that God has consumed to\r\nanointed perfection that conspires your moods,\r\nas I held you intently- alone and exhumed.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Holy Men<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nHoly men descend\r\nWith souls too nil\r\nIn forlorn eloquence\r\n\r\nFrom false distil\r\nOur dried wines,\r\nAre full of heart\r\n\r\nOpaline eye shy\r\nLyra spied upon\r\nA sonorous moon\r\n\r\nMy dead memory\r\nOf delicate nymphs\r\nSister of thorn\r\n\r\nForests of green\r\nWithout deceit,\r\nMy veins darken\r\n\r\nVenus, barbarous\r\nIn endless skies\r\nSister of clarity.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Renaissance Man<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nI \r\nIt was in his laughter\r\nthat he had known\r\nthat all that was\r\nwas not his own.\r\n\r\nHe stared into time\r\nwith a dissipated face\r\nthat tricked the minutes\r\nwith a slow forced grace,\r\nuntil he remained\r\nabove the highest sky,\r\naerial suns sent solace\r\nfrom a heavenly sigh.\r\n\r\nThe angels descend\r\nand the antlered oak climbs\r\nlike open bones, shaking in mime\r\nas the tottering wren sings\r\nin roisterous altitudes\r\nhis remembrance brings.\r\n\r\nLet the oceans\u2019 repeal\r\nthe sad moon\u2019s cold tug,\r\nthe lost burning prayer\r\nDespair, O\u2019 Despair.\r\n\r\n\r\nII\r\nSunlight stumbles to consciousness\r\nin the rudely blued luminescence\r\nas the sacred light coheres\r\namong bruised and showy oaks,\r\nthat deepen in the green tears\r\nof summer\u2019s long cloak.\r\n\r\nThe sainted strains of coral sea\r\nthat salts the air, mockingly\r\nin the dream\u2019s eternal glide\r\nthe incendiary keepers\r\ntame our uncertain tides.\r\nDisconsolate shards of a wave\r\nrecede on the tables of blue,\r\nwith coruscate delicacy that perishes\r\nwithin the lung-dead spumes.\r\n\r\nHis furtive stares are darkly said\r\nrolling in winds like rimpled leaves\r\nthat shriek existence in wishing reds\r\nout of all this rage, still spilling free,\r\nover thumbing sands to a silent sea\r\nthe world\u2019s calmed blossom had to be\r\nhis last token rose and godliest plea.\r\n\r\n\r\nIII\r\nEscape! and let this day be shattered\r\nthat spent its hordes in trembling shreds,\r\nout of all the desolate days that mattered\r\nand disturbed the sleep of sleeping heads.\r\nThe innocence of your step is ghosted in time.\r\n\r\nEach tongue of night returns\r\nto priested ears seeking\r\nwords from the wise,\r\nand severed recollections\r\nfrom the old world of lies.\r\n\r\nThe words and the trees\r\nare hanging in steam\r\nof the blades of his face\r\nfinding their fruit,\r\nalive against the sky\r\ndetached and solemn\r\nin a grave-struck place.\r\n\r\nRetire, and let this day be done\r\nthat left you senseless, a call of the dead\r\nfrom within your will, you shall regain\r\nthe rise sublime, with all your fears shed.\r\nThe cradle of your soul is freed from all pain.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Charred Remains<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nOur aspiring minds\r\nlost in flux, rolling up\r\nthe soured detail\r\nsave dying.\r\nHollow; rolling a stale\r\npoem on stone ears\r\nhe persists.\r\n\r\nHow much is lost?\r\nEchoes shelving recollection,\r\nringed with words, it remains\r\ncrashing to excrement-\r\nand does not cease\r\n\r\nuntouched by roar.\r\n\r\nYour face.\r\nA flower opens\r\nbride of terror\r\nShall your rose close\r\nscreaming with light?\r\n\r\nAlight the striking!\r\nin slanted freshness,\r\nbe presumed present\r\nin careworn splendor\r\nsemi-naked.\r\n\r\nrecover, recover!\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Evening Litany<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nBlackness shed its stare on all\r\nClosed by the moon\u2019s big hole\r\n     Whose glow is idle.\r\n\r\nThe mind flowed, smothered in bloods\r\nThe children with eyes on a man\r\n     Unseen hands kill.\r\n\r\nThe stroke of repentance seeks a\r\nStrong heart, till soon it lies\r\n     In the silken lair,\r\n\r\nWhitely flourished and knowing torment.\r\nThe funeral candles\u2019 flames ascend,\r\n     Promising salvation\r\n\r\nAs they huddle into this stroke of grace,\r\nThe fires of Hell unveil dead memory-\r\n     Burying indigence.\r\n\r\nSolemn vigil sways the slow evening rout\r\nOf crescent tongues and aging flesh,\r\n    A fulvous multitude\r\n\r\nWhose disembodied shudder blindly rises\r\nIn a song of remembrance, passing\r\n     From look to look.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Alexis Trailorpark<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nAlexis watched the sea renew its salty bloods,\r\nThe sinless welling of the blessing waters\r\n\r\nThat taunted her to rejoice in ringing infinity.\r\nPinkened roses edged the weedy grasses\r\n\r\nWeeping to the sultry blush of fertile skies.\r\nSuch beating upon her breast as the clouds\r\n\r\nNoble crepe lined a tender lullaby, dreaming.\r\nMelancholy winds, deep in thought on sands\r\n\r\nWild and solemn as a living voice, considering\r\nThe oceans that she held in her hands.\r\n\r\nShe stared into the night of aimless dignity\r\nPunctuated with longing, bareheaded stars\r\n\r\nTenderly straining to atomize an answer\r\nTo awaken her sleep twisted heart.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Rushmore at Sunset<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nI \r\nBeyond the clearing of unspoken contemplation\r\ndarkness absolves lowered sun\u2019s furious stare\r\ntragically abrading a fluent circle of tongues.\r\nThe glow remained, an imagism of stillnesses,\r\nspurning the obstinate measures of hired will\r\nawakening in the all-sudden melancholy of doubt.\r\nGolden flowers knew no bounds; jasmine dream\r\nslept petals overturned watery world\u2019s scheme\r\nwhile sinking into the dying eye of blackness.\r\nThe suncured day grew into a few pale syllables,\r\nblinking its retiring rose upon those living\r\nrivers of quartz that arose unto Dante\u2019s view.\r\nLight uncorrupted by its concession to night,\r\nthe blush-touched mirage set desire on the rock\r\nimploring man\u2019s profundity in a granite sprite.\r\n\r\nII\r\nEyes inviolate, unshaken in their prideful vision,\r\nare like wired red torches at a moment\u2019s imagining\r\nswarming the ages to see what strain the peerless\r\npursuit of those absolute truths shall bring...\r\nThe rimrose earth remains in its risible dance,\r\nthe tilted pirouette with a lunatic perfection,\r\nproudly affirming the sacred fires born of stone\r\nthat are raging unashamedly in a free man\u2019s mind.\r\nVivant winds repeat their hymns, nimbly shouting\r\nto the rocks and the lonely dusts of incessancy,\r\nawaiting radiant grace and man\u2019s conquering hand\r\nthat carved its soul, tracing in the dead shades.\r\nA shining divination of Minerva bled, on cliffs\r\nand from the curls upon heaven\u2019s white head, to\r\npurify all eternity that springs from her breast.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Speaks To the Soul of Man<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nI\r\nMust we live among this suffering still\r\nthat calls the dull ache of sacrifice forth\r\nby a series of doubts or by folly bring\r\nthe nodding flowers to wink at the sea?\r\nA man\u2019s intellect is his supreme mastery\r\nthat revels in a blink or in oceans that be;\r\nthe spirits of sweet Shelly must ring free!\r\nAnd from every airy spire that a man adorns\r\nwith fiery vision and torrents of thought,\r\nshed these inhibitions that touch our grace\r\nand spurn no beauty within thy golden wraith.\r\nFor these are divinities of highest testament\r\nthat consume fervent choirs in tender embrace,\r\nthe solemn shades of our untendered sacrament.\r\n\r\nII\r\nShy sunlight became the masonry\r\nits variations on a single theme,\r\nthe inexhausted symphony screams\r\nto the sculpted heart of reason.\r\n\r\nOur dreams are as the centuries bringing\r\ntheir struggle to the elements, awaiting\r\ntheir final expression upon this sight,\r\nwelding the courage to face a lifetime.\r\nI refuse to quell this mind to serve\r\nin sacrifice upon your altar, if only\r\nfor the sake of some ghosts in heaven;\r\nfor consciousness is not born of some\r\ndull erudition of wood nor the evil you\r\ndread facing and terror of its proof.\r\n\r\nThe loves that we keep so divinely,\r\nindelibly holding our sacred bound\r\nremove the slimmest whimper of doubt.\r\nA lone soul crying upon the mountain\r\ntonight is blessed in these old eyes,\r\nthat have seen the tortures of the wise\r\nand pleas of solace to the dimmest decree.\r\n\r\nIII\r\nThe lucid sunlight blinks its minutes\r\nupon stale ground and shifting trees\r\nthat smear their reds and golds and greens\r\nto the silence of your sighs, opposing dreams.\r\nO\u2019 insolent tendency! and sorrowful guilt,\r\nthe hopeless mythic endowed corpse and ghost\r\nto know the unknowable, no soul in revelation\r\nspeaking from your freedom\u2019s deathbed I say:\r\n\r\n\u201cTo love a man for his virtues on high\r\n is noble and human, your emotions divine.\r\n Fight for your life and the virtue of your\r\n pride, the raving goddess of your purpose.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cTo you who think the mind a passive effect or\r\n are unwilling to wish, must recapture your soul!\r\n for you are but an omnipotent spiritual embryo,\r\n O\u2019 ye of burgeoning faith.\u201d\r\n\r\n\r\nIV\r\nUpon these burrowing lives I must leak light!\r\nas the shallow moon pursues its own ignorance\r\nobscuring the glory of summer\u2019s proud song\r\nthat swells sublime within independent minds.\r\nThe exalted flowers beckon bright at lisping sea\r\nas desire returns, magnitude of my will unreviled,\r\nand rise, rise rises to this youthful sanctity.\r\n\r\nso go on and remain certain in your stead with\r\na mind unobstructed- eye to eye in opposing fires\r\nwith utterance in the  skies of uncorrupted rose,\r\nresolved to every solemn circumstance now dying\r\nin the intemperate rages of wandering nights.\r\nFall will return to pronounce your crimes as\r\nmoody heavens pour peerless judgments upon all\r\nthis forgiveless grace, our leaning benevolence.\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Unknown Beheld<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nArisen to the temptress cloudcrack\r\nof a lonely autumn day, skittering\r\nin alternating floods of sunlight,\r\nundeciding flows bending graciously,\r\nthrowing out a limb for the ivies.\r\n\r\nI sit idly in heaven\u2019s cloudy palm,\r\ndivinity living in unsubdued grace\r\nwith fire in the eyes of the beaten,\r\nuntil bodies are but a visible flame\r\nin the voices enfolding our darkness.\r\n\r\nCunning night galled dead vanities,\r\ncraving forgiveless in godly respite\r\nand bent toward a choiring foretold,\r\nthe inviolate bending of stars leak\r\nin anonymity like colored enigmas.\r\n\r\nWinds rub the sea\u2019s winnowing knee\r\nas I dived heedless tides of infancy\r\nonly to find my heart out of praise,\r\ntumbling through our blue-salt seeds\r\nand shivering among the roving spray.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    In Sight<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nDoes my ripened eye, glistering\r\nIn tearful moonlit hold,\r\nDisguise its blinded hollowness?\r\n\r\nWe tread beneath a thriving sky,\r\nA desert of roses dusting the brow\r\nOf one more flowing skull,\r\n\r\nTo exult the torn shadow, something\r\nRising from our loss of conscience\r\nOr the unmeditating of a heart.\r\n\r\nOne recalls with disinterred shame\r\nThe faint glissade the soul intends,\r\nStripped cold in our misting rains,\r\n\r\nTo soothe and purl the elusive char\r\nOf presaging joys, mothering salvation\r\nAnd perishing in the laudable hour.\r\n\r\nOur semblant souls ache and yearn\r\nAs from the wrath of all human hope\r\nWe breed eternal dreams.\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Gone Dead<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nMy hands made numb, the salve\r\nFor my soul gone dead, all by itself\r\nDancing warm alone, alone,\r\nLikely to die by crucifixion\u2019s ply,\r\nPushing its vile on tideless stone.\r\n\r\nMore, no more the lusted lip sings\r\n(memories fade the singular dream)\r\nHow do I soot the raw edge again?\r\n\r\nRetiring rain drops spiritual head\r\nAll to drain of the sensual rale,\r\nThe sinking eye stares cold\r\nBlack shot, half itself, flat\r\nOr gone dead.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    To Recover Yourself<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nThe trick of it is to cradle\r\nThe small glass tit of hope,\r\nThat no longer exists, trying\r\nTo milk a dream from nothing.\r\n\r\nRise if you must, inhibitions\r\nFor the drowning of a prayer\r\nAnd behold a coma\u2019s leggy soul,\r\nDust churning unsung umber.\r\n\r\nSwill the rebus of coral gist!\r\nPinchblades all desiring a rive\r\nIn the jubilate of curing seas,\r\nI am the womb of faineant stasis.\r\n\r\nThe divorce craved the miraculous\r\nIn the torrent of naked vocables.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Ragged Senses and Sundered Selves<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nRagged senses and sundered selves\r\nRemain faithless as I, no more alone\r\nThan bones feeding the sodden fold,\r\n\r\nShining through things so often true\r\nThat shackle me where sunlight blooms,\r\nMy unknown selves hiding in the deep\r\n\r\nOf a mansouled tomb, the black blessing.\r\nWind bled endlessly from shattered hills\r\nLike living prayers of the unborn root,\r\n\r\nAnd mankind\u2019s fathering creation too;\r\nWaves crowd closer as I move to death\r\nAnd shed sullen husks of salty breath,\r\n\r\nCrouching in the eternal flames of dawn\r\nThat grow from the dead angelus flames,\r\nWarming the seeds of a humbling youth\r\n\r\nAs the salt pounds in my waking wrist.\r\nWandering upon these soulless shores\r\nLight breaks upon her watering heart,\r\n\r\nPushing tides below the oil of stars\r\nStaining a night with monstrous wits,\r\nMy spirit clouting the quaking roar.\r\n\r\nThe dreaming darkness assumes a mood\r\nIn a hush of divinity, heart of scars,\r\nOr the haunting afternoons gone astry,\r\n\r\nThe ring of receding devotion endures.\r\nWedding pearls the waters of solitude,\r\nShedding the scuttle in the furies of clay\r\n\r\nThat forsake her dismay, unabating awes\r\nof the sea\u2019s disparities of nimble blue.\r\nI lure her shadow beyond undying recall.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Ritual Winter<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nA ritual in the winter of the soul\r\nSheds light to limb; the red cloud\r\nAssembles on the fluid grave.\r\nAn infancy of anchored pickthorns\r\nTwined the moon-bitten rocks; bloods\r\nForewarned the headless night.\r\n\r\nThe winds of winter chill the bones\r\nOf Eve; the grey crested seas\r\nProwl over watering wounds,\r\nIn the drowning eyes of unfed womb,\r\nChoking dry kisses as life leaks down,\r\nLost within the weeping ruin.\r\n\r\nA ritual in the winter of my soul\r\nSpeaks to the newborn rose, undying\r\nWithin its freezing skins.\r\nThe sea-born wringing of the senseless\r\nChristens the stillborn heart,\r\nWhispering to the intemperate dead.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Once More for Alexis<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nShe is set ablaze\r\n  All within.\r\nThe blankless sun\r\n\r\nPinned a pearl drop\r\nUpon the hollow blue,\r\nRadiant pinions swoon\r\n\r\nIn crystal vision\r\n  She consumed.\r\nThe heavens round,\r\n\r\nAngelic spheres arising\r\nEncircling each moment,\r\nIs no less painless.\r\n\r\nFluency of holy shadow\r\n  Born to stone\r\nPours incessantly\r\n\r\nIn rarified repose,\r\nHer eternal flames\r\nOf fury abound.\r\n\r\nShe is beautiful,\r\n  To be seen\r\nAs beautiful by me.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Full of Grace<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nBlack airs haunt\r\nThe unnested child\r\nEmpty as a prayer\r\n\r\n \u2018full of grace\u2019\r\n\r\nGod! My soul\u2019s perjured,\r\nMourning her glass coffin\r\n\r\nMy black eyelids\r\nAwaiting the judgment.\r\n\r\n \u2018full of grace\u2019\r\n\r\nInto the spiritual\r\nOf the golden ball,\r\n\r\nGraves of roses\r\nPinning up the moon.\r\n\r\nHail Mary,\r\n \u2018full of grace.\u2019\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Death of the Kiss<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nWhen full skies hinge the fields once more\r\nSwallowed up in their graze of nerves,\r\nUncocking the magic bones or fire,\r\nA matter of fluids that sucked me dry\r\nAnd fused its sight upon burial stones,\r\nThe sun unscrewed the night\u2019s turning tide.\r\n\r\nThough blind mother\u2019s dawn was nearly drawn\r\nAnd all those plum voices, rerobing my birth,\r\nAssumed the witnessing hiss that cannot atone,\r\nNor bend nor burn the air-banged bride\r\nThat, unfired to her seedless vine\r\nHad hung her cross by mother\u2019s eye.\r\n\r\nRemember me who struck the nodding shores,\r\nThe ghost who strode a sea\u2019s snapping rim?\r\nand did not suffer, the unentered skull\r\nThat refused to smile but could not cry,\r\nThat sipped mortal bloods from unknown rivals,\r\nSteered cold laughter as upgiven hearts died.\r\n\r\nDeath glided by but soon spun its bud\r\nThat palmed beheaded trees in the deadweed,\r\nBent in the tilting sundries of infant scripture\r\nThat are flowering in the late galleries of snow;\r\nUnder known cloud strokes of the celebrated skies\r\nFate unwound endlessly and left me all alone,\r\nAlone and faithless with her dying christs.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Aftermath<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nI can only liken it to\r\nChildhood...\r\n\r\n\"Now this won\u2019t hurt\r\na bit.\"\r\n\r\nMy last Halloween\r\nCaught in Fitkin,\r\nWater on the brain,\r\nGilding stillwells.\r\n\r\nTorn into the truth\r\nIn moon-clung silver,\r\nTapping the spine,\r\n\r\nI watched the goblin\r\nMasks of death,\r\nI shall retire\r\nThe artist within.\r\n\r\n\"Now you\u2019ve done it,\r\nraised a spineless liar.\r\nHow are you the better\r\nfor it?\"\r\n\r\nMy gaze falls unto heaven,\r\nWonderously lumbering\r\nThis mood,\r\nWatching from without.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Life By Fire<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nSilence abounds the white-fire tides\r\nThose misting swells bend the corals.\r\nThe noblest seas and bloods arising,\r\nUnsoil the blues of the holiest light,\r\nThe centuries gave form to lost truth!\r\nProclaiming the moon by torch-lit ring,\r\nPrometheus inherited god\u2019s twelve golden\r\nFlames, he lit the eyes of a lost angel\r\nBy oiling the condemned wing.\r\nUndoing the reins of a higher love,\r\nThe rose goddess unbound Ypsilanti,\r\nHer venerable soul so perfectly sings\r\nTo crackle the crown napping bramble.\r\nEuphonies bloomed the unearthen skull\r\nDance O\u2019 Soul of a primal solitude!\r\nBalancing creation atop sky\u2019s vanity,\r\nShe consumed mother\u2019s eye of its sea,\r\nThe immortal waters of time.\r\nThe living testament burning within,\r\nRecalling a tale from under the rib,\r\nAuguries kiss the virgin spring hymn.\r\nAlas! Atlantis beckons resplendently,\r\nNo lone bloods rust upon the damned.\r\nI am the center, orange, peeling---\r\nThe flesh of Lazarus began revealing,\r\nRevealing itself to the revived choir,\r\nWristing in the purloined fires.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Round Her Mortality<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nIt was in the harangue of winter\r\nWhen heavens bore their humble ode\r\nTo the sea\u2019s eloquent tint and rove,\r\nPleasuring in the pauses of rapture.\r\nMusic abounds in the deepening glow,\r\nThe roar for love; I cannot conceal\r\nWho I am alone, so forever alone.\r\nThe awesome shades of unseen grace\r\nFled the mysteries of amorous air\r\nLike a sunbeam or the dead thoughts\r\nThat visit memory from sea to sea;\r\nThe human heart and spirit willing,\r\nSpin like her shining starlit bead,\r\nOr the tender hues of vital beauty\r\nThat consecrate this solemn moment.\r\nSkies composed a thin veil of tears\r\nWithin a desolate rainbow, dreaming\r\nDaylight in the hearts of ever more,\r\nBleeding life in congregating vapor\r\nThat encircles those vain endeavors.\r\nUncertain moments echoing eternity\r\nIn the immortal strains descending,\r\nBecome mute in our liquid sleeping,\r\nLined with grief and twisted heads.\r\nWinds reply to the bluing fountains\r\nThat lorn the yearning lip once more\r\nOr seek the mimes we pined in murmur,\r\nAs we discover the shadows of remorse\r\nThrough the intricate change of days,\r\nA quickening of morning immersed us,\r\nIn a strike of earth\u2019s bursting tide\r\nDrowning her forever in sacred lights\r\nThat lamp the renewed moment of joy, \r\nWe thirst for the spiritual dawning.\r\nProfuse wings settle their red ghosts\r\nOut of all these holier abandonings,\r\nRising out of the autumn afterbirth\r\nWith a saddened rose, her atmosphere\r\nHad left its wound, visible as mist.\r\nHer thin caress must live once more,\r\nThe burning kissed from eternal lips\r\nThat can never depart or sound again\r\nThrough rock or heart or trodden den,\r\nShe\u2019s fled to a kindred heaven, fled!\r\nAzure lids and delicacies of breath\r\nWere cold among our purgatorial fall,\r\nAching for the soul\u2019s aqueous knells\r\nThat chimed sweetly when beauty died.\r\nWeeping clouds grab the sanded wave\r\nBidding the taste of salt-sadnesses,\r\nStrenuous tongues cold rising rung\r\nThe haunting excrescences of revelry\r\nDisconsolate angel\u2019s upward firing,\r\nWhispering unto heaven\u2019s emblazoning.\r\nThe moon soothed the blissful tune\r\nA sound of pureness, forever free,\r\nLike a saint worming the icy dream,\r\nEmbracing the witless with melodies.\r\nEthereal hands deceived the vermeil,\r\nThe longing of her ocean\u2019s strains\r\nThat risk the bride\u2019s shrinking scream,\r\nBeset with her darklings of miracles\r\nGathered into the crescent of tears\r\nTo touch the ripples of melancholy.\r\nCruel as it may be, a reaping decay!\r\nBut chooses no other god to roam for\r\nIn the tremulous presence of truth\r\nThat recalled what fell rings,\r\nThe hearts of flowers, half opening.\r\nFlint-like, stars dimming asunder,\r\nBowing to the children, washed away\r\nIn the raven dwellings of innocence\r\nWhere night returns, no tempest spent,\r\nOr on the bloody stones of remembering,\r\nThe virgin who killed lost sentiments\r\nWith the careless rage so momentarily\r\nHeld as to pretend godhead confessions,\r\nWielded in the deep deadened turmoil.\r\nThe twisted tree is hewn from greys\r\nLike a hidden river of orisoned air\r\nLaughing in rapt inflections of veins\r\nPulsating under the moonbound lair;\r\nIts jubilant hands extending beyond\r\nThe thresh of untempered horizons,\r\nDipping into the sea\u2019s despairing,\r\nThe poinsettial blowing of her love\r\nWashes into this immaculate sleep.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Dying Sea<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nThe barbarous tasseling of dawn\r\nChills the sun\u2019s feckless effluence\r\nWith careless hands that duly scribe\r\nIts stuffless expiation and imbibes\r\nThe choiring paradigms of \u2018dulia.\u2019\r\n\r\nTumult, the moon lit idioms rose\r\nIn bedlamite strings of bullion,\r\nThe inviolate sacristan has borne\r\nEarth\u2019s paradise, whispering unto\r\nThe Cherubims, forsaking the eye.\r\n\r\nScriptures encarved the permanent\r\nTears of silence tumbling blindly\r\nIn the swilling waters of the heart,\r\nLost lights burning the skinning\r\nTides, slitting the tuneful throat.\r\n\r\nDispersed innocence hailed summer\u2019s\r\nSprig, spurned from within a longing\r\nUnlamented urn of esurient heraldry,\r\nDazzling immortality in leafy whispers,\r\nThe spirit rekindles its wakeful rose.\r\n\r\nPurgatorial orations ride upon golden\r\nTongues in the lordly dwells of elegance,\r\nViolent souls dream of death\u2019s kingdom\r\nIn a shapeless void, to lift the gates\r\nOf the unknown sea.\r\n\r\n=\r\n\r\nSearching in the narrow veins of thought\r\nThat hover \u2018round the transient mould,\r\nAwake! elemental as the windless bloods\r\nStealing upon a sky, raising the fires,\r\nInspiring blush on the brimming head.\r\n\r\nA moment\u2019s ornament, worlds not realized\r\nIn the darkness of our choking graves,\r\nRelinquished man\u2019s unspent mortality\r\nFrom the indemnifying hollows of the\r\nDying flame, exhaling a tender spirit.\r\n\r\nThe incantations of the unwatched dreams\r\nImmerse themselves in red-crescent spheres,\r\nThe unerring wilderness of an untamed heart.\r\nThe verdurous souls pour, and the haunting\r\nEye sheds no violet, I can no longer see.\r\n\r\nI can no longer hear those begone woes\r\nOr the gallows sense of ineluctable time,\r\nEmbalming some viewless plot or glide\r\nThat beams divinely in the mocking eye,\r\nWith shining wiles, unwilling to sleep.\r\n\r\nCan I ascend from this blackened gyre\r\nTo ride upon the flames or flower?\r\nLet no agonies curl from my breast\r\nOr break to save an untold prophecy,\r\nChilling the lifted sea.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Farewell Girl<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nHer mutinous glance\r\nComes to vision,\r\nEyes that mollify\r\n\r\nEndlessly, the night\u2019s\r\nStony endurance, misting\r\nThe pliant blues,\r\nChristening the ocher.\r\n\r\nHer raveled lavender\r\nWill walk forever,\r\nAcquiring the gods!\r\nOf vermillion whorl.\r\n\r\nSun, the yellow\r\nSpur smoldering\r\nCeremoniously\r\nIn uneven seasons,\r\n\r\nDissipates the wry\r\nHorizon,\r\nSeas insinuate.\r\n\r\nLost girl, elusively\r\nLeaves in light\r\nCircles of air,\r\n\r\nDisappearing on\r\nA wave\u2019s gentle\r\nTurning.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Resurrection<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nThe blind winds have striven\r\nIn their clarion verse,\r\nFloating in the filigree\r\nOf unseen awakenings\r\nLike the wintry leaf\r\nBreathing in empty airs,\r\nUplifting lone heads.\r\nClouds, like tiny fists,\r\ncleave to starlit harmonies\r\nIn life\u2019s thorny hour,\r\nTo weave a dream, thought\r\nOr unconstrained memory.\r\nThe heart\u2019s faint echoes\r\nWrithe in the flux,\r\nRendering immortal strains\r\nFrom intimate treading\r\nOf our bloodiest waters\r\nThat salt the torrents\r\nOf a skull\u2019s purest breath.\r\nThe fiery tear ministers\r\nNo pain, enduring purblind\r\nCrimsons; angel of melancholia\r\nRousing the unbound ages,\r\nThe living stream of evermore.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Epitaph<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nThe poised white faces\r\nMurmur in piteous mouth,\r\nThe brows of azure\r\nClimb the Almighty\r\nInto the raftered airs.\r\n\r\nStanding in repose\r\nOf God\u2019s golden fire,\r\nNever shall it happen,\r\nThis young man\u2019s repair?\r\nConsumed in tall thought,\r\n\r\nI weep in suns of comfort,\r\nWorshipping a sinned image\r\nFilling my head,\r\nUnchilding the blaspheme,\r\nNaked on undinal seas.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Soul to Solitude<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nThe lost mourning of my\r\nUnsoiled eyes,\r\nDivining the unwrinkled sun\r\nOf darkening bone, break\r\nUpon the violet sea\u2019s shake,\r\nBlessing the threadbare spirit.\r\nThe blue-winged trees\r\nAre ridden to sleep,\r\nRain-rung and always rising.\r\n\r\nHer4 death was composed\r\nIn the gardens of progeny\r\nWith marble hands,\r\nI sought the obsequies\r\nOf a more solemn rose,\r\nA beauty reborn\r\nOf our heavenly root,\r\nThe blossoming elegies\r\n\u2018O\u2019 innocence of youth.\u2019\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Witnessed Prophecy<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nAll gentle innocence converged\r\nupon this one sight.\r\n\r\nThe spellbound sea enshrouded\r\nher reverent perceptions, inspired\r\nto awe and held in stillness\r\nwith blackened eyes, eternal.\r\n\r\nA heart consumed of holy fire\r\nfor all whose soul had met,\r\nin naked revelation, upon her\r\ndoes this autumn sky beget?\r\n\r\nFingers of the sea, tenderly\r\nassumed the contours of her sole,\r\nimprints upon departing sands\r\nthe shapes of dreams too visible.\r\n\r\nHer time wounde3d eyes emote\r\ntheir scorn, and hold fury as\r\nshe\u2019s descending, blinded by a\r\nmoon halo, so goldenly remote.\r\n\r\nEyes, and the complexities therein\r\ncollect the momentary hues within her\r\ntender rainbow and are cleansed in\r\nthe waters of a purified heaven.\r\n\r\nRapturous skin, as a shell\r\nmade smooth, whitened in the\r\nageless hands of the sea, she\r\nsings among the moonlit tears.\r\n\r\nShe, from all her hallowed anguish,\r\nreveals this living apparition!\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    \u2018Twilight Lake\u2019<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nThe air grows to sugar.\r\nThe anemic trees\r\n\r\nAre drained, mouthing\r\nBeneath the sky\u2019s\r\n    cracked lip\r\n\r\nToneless and austere,\r\n    inheriting\r\nHeaven\u2019s unstrung yellow,\r\n\r\nDusk impounded cruel\r\nFluencies of sight,\r\n\r\nNeedling the eye,\r\nBlind to abrading red\r\n    tumuli\r\n\r\nPinching the black stone,\r\nThe rose-cut bluster.\r\n\r\nPondering the silence,\r\nWind rived the grey\r\n    waste\r\n\r\nOf the bay\r\nInsolent head, unaware.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Laughing Tragedian<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\u2018fOR tHE cOLTS nECK pOET\u2019<\/em>\r\n\r\nYour fatal assertions are astutely made.\r\n\r\nA voracious flower grips the black essences\r\nOf a rich recital, blessing the breath of life\r\nAs the ranting imperative of a tearful infancy\r\n\r\nUnfolds us blindly in the thundering tirade.\r\nForgathered tongues shed devilforked lights,\r\nBleeding infinite blues from reds spines of fire,\r\n\r\nCarving their eloquence from a cold vacant mouth\r\nIn the soulful compliance of your conscience construed.\r\nElegance purged the unimaginative scribbling,\r\n\r\nEtching the awes of a Greek intention,\r\nSculpted in ligaments from eternity\u2019s limb\r\nThat climbs to find your symphony unfinished.\r\n\r\nThe philosopher, tucked in the holiest whisper\r\nAbove the warm bloods of uplifting profusion,\r\nAsks questions of all this substanceless grace,\r\n\r\nThe unclouded spirits of your ritual perceiving.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Yearling<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nTainted dreams leave me\r\nBloodied and red-blessed,\r\nDisplacing pitiless tears.\r\n\r\nBodiless wisdom loosed\r\nThe tongueless myths \r\nAnd elixive wicks,\r\n  imageless.\r\n\r\nToo much is lost,\r\n  unrecoverable\r\nAnd brutally endless,\r\n\r\nI walk beneath\r\nParing earthskins\r\nCommanding god-tang,\r\nexiled white hands.\r\n\r\nThe night desecrates\r\nA sky of indolent\r\n  flint\r\n\r\nClouding my veins\r\nOf gritted indifference,\r\nCapes of light\r\nLick the bitters.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Haunting Summer<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nWater illumes in the dwindling skies\r\nSkittering like sorrow, from eye to eye.\r\n\r\nIn the solar suavity of evening\u2019s stare,\r\nFading and falling to ash, unreal,\r\n\r\nIt is lorn night with a forgone light,\r\nCrimped with espousals of poignant white.\r\n\r\nAnd so the dealiest of our imaginings\r\nIs fiercely real, but like a flash of rain,\r\n\r\nthe tearful elocution of a profound soul,\r\nSo thinly torn, idly shaking sticks\r\n\r\nTo brood pursuance and weather a feeling,\r\nThe thrown stone drips, imposing cold tears.\r\n\r\nThose silvery hopes, restoring old magnificence\r\nPlace their frail sequel upon the everlasting head.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    N. Y. C.<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nThe sapphire dreams shall daunt this moment\r\nflowing in lone spokes of ambivalent light,\r\nbreathing their life into our minds of fire\r\nwith the sapient veins still severed by sight.\r\n\r\nThreads of desire will haunt the bone-bent\r\nskull pinching the shoals of holiest torrent.\r\n\r\nWe must try learning to launder the impure\r\nhearts of our memory and the endless elusion\r\nof the new night\u2019s warm broach, pinning its\r\nromanticism on the dried heads of autumn.\r\n\r\nCatching my burnt tears in a vertiginous lilt\r\nof bluebell emulsions on a smooth-throated sky,\r\nwith dead expectations and a veil of grey smoke\r\nthat choke my praises in the black wedge of nigh.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The eternal<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nTrees line the shapeless marrow\r\nlike dead Braille as our perilous divers\r\nhardened in the arterial waters\r\nof the hourless grail.\r\n\r\nImages roar from the desolate claw\r\nmystifying all this ageless jibe,\r\nthe keeper of our virgin tide\r\nthat drums on stone.\r\n\r\nFree all your water-gods!\r\nerect among the unrelenting rose,\r\nthe blood stringed hills lie\r\nwhere she will grow.\r\n\r\nWasted plenty in brotherless dust,\r\na blackened rind or citric bide\r\nthat boxed my love, gristled\r\nin her velvety bale.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Innocents<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nWhite dressed and wholly mortal,\r\nDeath set upon my glass heroine\r\nBy chipping at my soul,\r\nSo bare when she died.\r\nThe grave like the seas\r\nDrown our ills,\r\nBloods bending a tide\r\nOf lunar silences,\r\nTangled in distemper.\r\nPraising blind origin,\r\nThe unbidden ascension\r\nEndured so, to mourn\r\nForever our following\r\nAnd her christening down.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Deviled Breast<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nThe deviled breast\r\nAnd shawls of night\r\nShale the dry\r\nHatchlings of fire,\r\nHousing the shroud\r\nAnd feeding the spry\r\nTide-swung ghost.\r\n\r\nThe toe-snubbing sea\r\nGrooms the solid eye,\r\nLoved to a dullness,\r\nAnd absolves no rain\r\nBy our watering sight\r\nIn waves that forked\r\nThe moonbled cries.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    My Grief Lies Deep<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nMy grief lies deep\r\nIn unanswering skies,\r\nThose lime innocences\r\nThat dark veins unwind.\r\nDelusive nights of autumn\r\nSung, raping the senses\r\nAs vagaries chilled\r\nThe flame that raves\r\nInfernal sinfulness,\r\nWed to heaven\u2019s dead.\r\nStrangers stir under lids\r\nOf slowly spoken light\r\nIn the lull of the hour,\r\nrapt on torrid thrones,\r\nHindering the silences\r\nThat spiral to oblivion.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Angel of Winter<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nDarkness stamped its womb-eyed heel\r\nOn the invisible winds poising lordly moons;\r\nMortal ribs grew as my famine flew\r\nFrom gracelessness unto a rendered death\r\nThat fades from around her holy face.\r\n\r\nA repetition of the soul in continual airs,\r\nTorn over rags as your wily sins shed\r\nBloods of white, so scrawled in tune,\r\nShooting up the frozen angel\u2019s wintry spoon,\r\nTorn contraries of the always blue flame.\r\n\r\nDry eyes lash a sweetly tear-stained cheek\r\nAs the sky raised its virtue unto heaven\u2019s head,\r\nUndoing leafy veils to kiss her mortal wells\r\nAs perfection heaves and nobility escapes\r\nOur thinning sleep; your forever is dead.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Womb of Deceit<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nMy past hangs over me\r\nlike a time worn cliff,\r\nbeaten and made hollow\r\nby winds\u2019 cruel fist.\r\n\r\nMore like the cave\r\nhiding secretly below\r\nthe baleful old tor,\r\nonce holding shelter\r\nfor the mystic Indian\r\nWho dared not venture.\r\n\r\nHis sepulcher of days\r\nremoved his soul, the\r\nwounded medicine man\r\nwho razed his senses.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    Whispers of the Eternal Leaves<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nWe walked together down a path of green,\r\nthe cumulus leaves turned their veins up\r\nunto a sauntering sky with its cloud like\r\nfat white spiders who spin their silken soul.\r\nThe path seemed to float among sunlight\r\nas we came upon the shining river of time\r\nflinging its silver minutes into our hearts,\r\nawaking to flee the silence of our rhyme.\r\n\r\nSurrounded by autumn\u2019s burning of dreams, we\r\nconsigned to always be as one. A love rejoiced\r\nin by the voice of the leaves that sings and\r\nsoars in a violet reprieve. A thunder-struck\r\nrock floods the rivers long breath, drowning\r\nthe aimless passage of the mystery fields,\r\nto the sea as it sleeps in infinity; free\r\nto fling salts among the wind dumb trees.\r\n\r\nAlas! we would never be alone again, no sad\r\nbloods against the head of tomorrow, light\r\nhad leaked its prayer upon a burning thistle\r\nand opened pour hearts on this finger-locked eve.\r\nUnconscious skies elude the clearest eye, truths\r\nuprising within their tide, as prose, all night\r\nblowing pink and white among the flambeaus reeds,\r\na glistening face glows in the torch-lit breeze.\r\n\r\nEvery delicate leaf I mourned promised its\r\nmiracle to me--and to us, as we awaited the\r\nheart-shaped rain of spring. Life\u2019s offering\r\nexhibits no irony on the untrodden path as sly\r\ndryads seek their fortune within the tacit rose.\r\nBut she is the mistress of these virgin lands,\r\nan endless uniting of here and eternal, of\r\nall those mystic choirs that sway in her grace.\r\n\r\nI speak to you at the end of the path as\r\nwe stare into the sea\u2019s pensive wave and\r\nemulous remittances of a multitudinous sky.\r\nMourning echoes call up forever\u2019s faint ear\r\nin the boundless fertility of my unused heart,\r\nas light falls out from the tremulous rocks.\r\nWe look ahead to the remainder of nature as\r\nage and ages return their certain intervals\r\nwith irresistible horizons that linger above\r\nthe mingling of seas; we exist in reminiscence.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    The Mortal Words<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nEverything I seem to touch dies as desolation\r\nUnwinds among these mind entering elements.\r\nDo my suffering baptisms propel a new moon\r\nOf upending blues that grows to lax stature,\r\nPerforming the sleepless rotations that feign\r\nMy slavishly glued tombs of pursuant hauteur.\r\nThe falter child found joy among sunflowers,\r\nPollinated with racemed vision, of one grace\r\nThat had the recurrence of an unbidden cortege.\r\nThe one bluest day of my childhood, ogling the\r\nProsperous orange, I climbed cliffs and rolled\r\nIn nobility as the crimsoned sphere paused above\r\nSpring fields, the sincere majesties of the air\r\nThat inhales life from within a celestial chest.\r\n\r\nYou no longer look at me like your son, a child\r\nWrithing in the candled filaments of your hooded\r\nGlances that squint at blacker souls in undone\r\nCalumnies, the mortal words pronounced so well.\r\nThe old day drops its breathless yellows to the\r\nColossal pine pennants of recovery that quilt the\r\nDead earth warmly within a lost watching hour.\r\nInfinite seas refuse to decay, my heart flubs\u2014\r\nThe greys and greens of sharpened persistence,\r\nAll at once, my purgatorial loss of solitude,\r\nGilded in whiteness that still retains my dreams.\r\nRegain the burning soul! out of shapeless ash,\r\nThe eternal voice can never diminish or hush.\r\n\r\nSpeaking of the wind a prosperous spring curses,\r\nViolence creates drama with my restricted eye\r\nAs I dwindle and die in one lonely lost whimper.\r\nWithin the rushed and dusty days, found amiss\r\nIn the mind\u2019s collect, we forgive secret lies of\r\nCollusive time, a lurking cry in veils of smoke.\r\nWe watch the melancholy hours repeal these days,\r\nConcealing themselves in life\u2019s deeper strains,\r\nAs if by receding spirits that tomorrow retains\r\nOr by spilling of guilt retaining yesterdays,\r\nWatery hands close grip around my senses and in\r\nSun-like fortune that is exultant in our darkest\r\nHeart, we shall find the strength of unborrowed\r\nWill that slowly repurchases a shiny new soul.\r\n\r\nI continue pursuing the vireo\u2019s theme, closing\r\nWithin the intimacies of an aimless air dancing.\r\nthe soul continued in soundless motion, striding\r\nToward torment to find its palmary regale that\r\nUprose before me in the greeting circle of hail.\r\nThe clouds conspire to close upon me, altering\r\nUntillable silting on the bleakest of sands that\r\nI sink into with a bewildered knee, o\u2019 terminus.\r\nWandering in sleepless nights of retrospection,\r\nThe pinging light buffets my past parturitions\r\nAs I watch the roiling waters oscillate wildly.\r\nI, the extoller of the exhibited principle, orb\r\nSwallower of the eternal march, repeat peerless\r\nChants that ring, deathless throughout the ages.\r\n\r\nExploring the inward, O\u2019 celabrateur of bygones,\r\nPurporting the heroism of conquerors and kings!\r\nWho rant to the masses with a spiritual flame,\r\nThe vivifying cry they carry lovingly with them.\r\nBludgeoned by the motherly hands of unpent hope,\r\nFlaunting the spar with the living Achilles, for\r\nThe sake of each perfect childhood kiss, I\u2019m held.\r\nWill you seek the plexus of rolling words or find\r\nThe limbus where pulpits descend, touching a psalm\r\nAs you touch a friend, giving its body back again?\r\nThe aria of the ecstatic atmospheres, I sing here\r\nUselessly with leaves rustling at my feet, or at\r\nThe liquid rim of life, with the sea pushing white\r\nUpon the shivery land below the pyro-blue crescent.\r\n\r\nWill you never understand me, and these languishing \r\nRhymes, although they are so hard to follow or admit,\r\nThe spirit that I see lightly rising, can no one see?\r\nMoving in the breath of rousing unrest, I ceaselessly\r\nEnvision the corpse of me and the burial of my words.\r\nMurmurs and echoes still summon me with their charm\r\nInvoking a sadness inherent in the tympan of waves,\r\nThe sources of my perpetual rains, so faint-so far.\r\nI shall create like a \u2018Vesuvius Man\u2019, summoning an\r\nAngel to this hallowed land, the proving grounds of\r\nMy glass soul that glitters with a radiance unknown.\r\nThe sun sets, and the sea\u2019s waves lapse into silty\r\nTides, ebbing and quelling the universal time as I\r\nReturn like slim Silvanus to the silk-cotton trees.\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
    At the End of the Path<\/h2>\n
    \r\n\r\nGrant me a wisp of sunlight\r\nFrom the silent undulations\r\n\tof blue,\r\n\r\nPlaying in momentary splendor\r\nUpon the softness of your face\r\n\r\nAs you leave and are leaving.\r\n\r\n\t\u2018There is no divinity\r\n\tonly a hollow longing.\u2019\r\n\r\nThe gentleness of our caress\r\nWarms my stubborn beatitudes\r\n\r\nAs I inhale your tender spirit\r\n\twith a crushed lung;\r\n\r\nI use every breath of my being.\r\n\r\nSo now you leave me, your warm\r\nRings encircling my empty soul\r\n\tunseen, unheard.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n
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    the eternal muse unforgiven ode to a young girl her hyacinth eye violet sublime evening on church street patti\ufffds prayer the wake the monumental grunt o\ufffd manifesto the holy men renaissance man charred remains evening litany alexis trailorpark rushmore at sunset speaks to the soul of man the unknown beheld in sight gone dead to […]<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1001002,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1772],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7292","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-lord-dermond-the-mortal-words","category-1772-id","post-seq-1","post-parity-odd","meta-position-corners","fix"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7292","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1001002"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7292"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7292\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7295,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7292\/revisions\/7295"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7292"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7292"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gregglory.com\/blastpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7292"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}