vital as sun designated blooms,
disintegrating as all else
i think of you
captured with abundant blaze,
dismantled for other times
i think of you
desire's polished recollections
burnished & relinquished,
living for solitary invitation
i think of you
in the service of devotion
that which brings today through tomorrow
unveils here and now
the inadequacy of speech
understanding nothing but contrast
between this and then
remembrance & defeat coalesce
consternation dislodges apathy
& mindful your shadow still casts
its direction to my heart
nothing is discarded by touch
but savage aching need
naught achieved but fulfillment
to define who we are
and what we want
is to discern the validity of our being
nothing serves as eloquently as desire --
to accept each other unreservedly
& join in the connection of devotion
Queen of Swords
"Man of Constant Sorrow"
May you be forever young darlin'
voices of yesteryear
battalions of words compete for recognition
myriad papers flutter like minions of the mind
on the mantelpiece cotillion invitations accumulate
a congregation of full moons verifies of our experience
my spirit prepares for another transformation
in the stillness, voices of yesteryear are our testament
Queen of Swords
on the path, in the park
in Shakespeare's alley
secluded and discreet
heaven promised us to meet
in passing, chance was lost
moonbeam-fed, a night owl rests
gratitude insists, joy persists
tattered & mellowed in our hulls
plans awry, hope relinquished,
in passing, our spirits mingled
immeasurably vast all life
for which humanity is irrelevant
the Creator recognized in ruins
our vain strategy for being
in passing deliverance fled
the nest builders ever resolute
scavengers forever hopeful
harvesters replete with success--
shame me with wise probity
in passing we court blessings
polished grace, master of your craft
your assertions sweet and bold
cause of bliss, witness to travesty
strange brew for strangers at the gate
in passing, we broke the golden rule
gill-flirts & inane manikins
viper-like they stole my man
we traced each others footsteps
stories do tell & teardrops did fall
we dared, no one knew or cared
in passing, non were spared.
Queen of Swords
Of Archetypes and No Stone Unturned...
Usurped by fatalities never imagined, the death of hope entwined with facing down one's own anger at being duped by the insubstantial belief in super inundated fairy tales -- yet this recognition is saturated still with unsurpassed reliance on miracles.
But the dignity of stoicism and the resolute adherence substantiated by a reliable past makes feasible the belief that you will reckon to rein in victory over trepidation and alarming result-dependent, paralyzing disparaging self-regard and paradoxically deeply entrenched pride, to forgive encrypted and unhinged judgments and comprehend instead that the ingress of forgiveness and satiety, the granting of a boon to a worshipful friend and admirer supersedes self and that in heaven's terms, this trumps a world of accolades.
Achievement kept you upright and love kept you accessible and being cognizant that suspicions and doubt be also bound up in our intimate regard and assumptions -- all the more the reason to further our joined experience.
What not greatness of melody, beauty and worded expression and exploration of devotion and admiration would accomplish, so might what was kept in reserve -- reason. To be thrust into pursuing the matrix of this companionship and find there purchase and the balm of resolution -- unlike the explosive drive and superlative but treacherous expectation of storybook perfection, but in the pressing need of needful things attended to before passing on to parts unknown.
There then to find trenchant promise and consistent leverage of probity and a regard that features a modicum of respect and a measure of tenderness so long expressed, no longer in need now of yet again being lured, tested and exposed.
Let me not expound and recommend, plead and bemoan, suggest and point out former attributes that mutually beguiled and entranced.
But rather seeing that only you are empowered with the way and means, let me share with you the responsibility of my asking and your doing -- readily as key will fit lock.
by Queen of Swords
Forced by unrelenting, unforgiving arctic cold, clans and tribes seeking shelter in fire lit caves had scant regard for loners and disheartened lovers who stood aside. Had history been left to hermits and their brethren, the might of nations, the wealth of civilization would have been naught but an unimaginable, unrealized flight of imagination.
Ancient artisans heaped high treasure troves and primitive elders told stories, lost now to earth and wind -- delicate and fleeting, akin to thoughts and feelings I consigned decades ago to perishable materials and entrusted to uncaring fly-by-night messengers.
It is providence itself that your work will endure -- imprinted on millions of shimmering rainbow disks scattered throughout the world. Embracing discipline, tenacity and an original approach, your creations enriched listeners and perpetuated understanding and the bountiful, lasting banquet thus created, earned you your place -- a radiant star on the firmament of our times.
With our worldly affairs in order and goods that will survive us circumspectly allocated, what needs yet to be done is negligible. Be our demise a long anticipated occasion or an astonished event, all must give in to what cannot be bargained with -- only time enough perhaps to enviously consider those who slip peacefully and satisfied to where senses cannot.
Olympian gods, one might believe, apportioned us particular roles and granted love, so that at their leisure and for their amusement they might observe how ill-fated mortals fare without it.
Your praise was extravagant, your promises heartfelt and single-mindedly I desired you ever since we explored wild, wind-swept steppes together and to this very day, I am in need of your affirmation each and every sultry tropical break of dawn.
To be in your presence was ever on my mind and in an attempt to present you with what you fancied, my affection, effort and time was yours. If I succeeded in some ways, I failed in others. By way of compensation, if I may have yet caused you to smile -- even if power itself is suspect, this was, for me, a superior and cheering aspect.
In spirit you remain so very near -- but we are, as ever, as if lost and far afield. Knowing full well the proverbial bird's incessant mocking song remains the same, my mirror, in no uncertain terms demands I now set aside all fanciful pretense.
When we first knew of each other, it was my belief words were the key, but regardless of exquisite timing and rare opportunity, a meeting never transpired and now becalmed, near the end of my days, oh irony of ironies, I must concede the door was always open! Yet, if ordained by heaven, who is to say matters did not transpire exactly as planned.
Dictated by an imagined necessity, for will-o'-the-wisp type reasons only we may surmise and pining still to no avail, in cyber domains we now travel. But there is no leaving this -- that which so profoundly affected the psyche and where imagination provided abundance for that which could not breech the gateway of actuality.
As well you know, beloved friend, too much of self was tendered to now to worthlessness be rendered and days arise when nothing will suffice and nights are often cruelly efficient in reminding us of our powerlessness to bring about our own deliverance -- a vacant landscape where dreamers crave only to cease dreaming.
You are with me -- when I think of the heretofore inexhaustible light of our love and how obdurate was once viewed as good intentions and resolute will and our attachment was the only narrative.
I am with you -- when I recall how the pleasure you gave silenced my discontent and missions once of paramount importance paled as bewitching, intoxicating enchantments transformed veneration to exultation.
You are with me -- when I see nature's spectacular presentations signify palatial environs and comingling with the wondrous tune and timbre of your creations my memories are ablaze with admiration.
I am with you -- when the approach of night extinguishes vexation and remembrance of one moment on the avenue is unfurled and then reluctantly surrendered.
You are with me -- when in response to moon tide moods the dazzling expressiveness of your songs, with unexpected candor and indulgence, reflected otherworldly luminosity.
I am with you -- when faith sustains me to believe a troop of dragoons could not abduct us from the secluded, snowbound province only you and I inhabit.
You are with me -- when I remember how Veleda lured me into infelicitous arrangements and then as a ringlet of paucity enveloped me, your songs, a phalanx of sonorous, transcendental vistas, promised me amity.
I am with you -- when in the still and sacred gloaming no ecclesial rituals, symbolic sacrifice or atonement are in evidence and dread, rage and regret are banished as we are joined in sleep's abundant empire.
You are with me -- when I look back and witness how we balanced and subjected our affection to rigorous impossibilities, compelled to change out escort, horse and method to keep the harpy of insanity perched upon the shelf.
We are together -- beloved conspirator, when we consider past schemes and dreams, bushwhacked but unchanged...as demanding sensuality and the tyrannizing quest for gratification now sequestered safely behind the wall that embodied both captivity and refuge.
Perpetuating nobility of heart-- persuasive in its intent, encrypted with sage advice, giving rise to liberating confirmation and redemptive assurance.
Devoid of time worn phrases...perfect in delivery, response and ancient universal sentiment -- revisited, refreshed and renewed.
Harken and behold the messenger welcomed lighthearted intrusion -- assertive and direct.
Dramatic presentations from unknown well-springs of creativity distracted, emboldened, celebrating the energy of being.
Gratified to be trusted and worthy of comment, secure to be understood... a consolation.
Grateful existence was enhanced by art, fortunate in the belief tributes were inspired.
Reassured of appreciation in an uncaring world -- elevated, set apart from the everyday in a niche of private thought...there to escape and dream, choosing benevolence over misalliance, accord over misery.
Disparity in Tandem
Censure time wasting pursuits, seek and savor empathy and fidelity.
Aware of celestial dictates, you summon your alter ego and present your beliefs.
Inspired by erstwhile endeavors in pursuit of exultant conclusions, periodically fractured and frozen to regenerate, perpetually shifting thoughts explore expression.
Countless images and innumerable words passed in review as momentary insights and privately mingling moods gave rise to genuine revolutions of the heart.
Inward imaginings cloaked many an outward deed and enticing melodies invited rapture as we coalesced in a joyous chiaroscuro cascade of sky high dreams.
With thoughtful mien and determined mind, commonplace but resilient cartwheels were sought to draw opulent chariots.
Embellished and textured reflections engendered disquieting resignation, but steadfast as rock-solid oaths, ambivalence unites us now in an adorned frieze of sentiment.
Tethered to a voice aflame with rage and regret, a discerning poet, an aesthete and voluptuary some say, tells of caustic blight and looming perils, proclaiming fragility to be the secret shame of heroes.
Revealing the sanctity of his being, he describes misadventures and imbecility and portrays men whose souls are perfidious and whose end is desolate. Exploring the summit of his talent he accesses multitudes, earns their worship, then bashes their verdicts to smithereens.
Deceptively playing it safe with theatrical allegories, every day narrow escapes keep him in the game. Embodying historic spirit, he masterfully entertains with accounts of hell on earth -- stories of impudent defamation and devastating vilifications -- centuries might be lived in their immortality. Thus Toth decrees pride override pallid narratives of accord.
Carefully words were selected -- to discard, to explain and foster love, but too raw is the third act to bear. Unfailing but indifferent, like spring each year, another always claims my love's presence and the warmth of actuality. If one could but heal with love.
In a dime a dozen context, however, was I not chosen? Is it not evident how much yours always was the greater portion? Remembrances of merry insouciance, piquant revelries
are a tribute to your muses, a testament of your triumph and a legacy for the admiring crowd.
Palatial constructs and music suggesting nirvana, repose yet in the corridors of recollection yet must beauty, magnificent but cold, now compensate for love?
Lashed to the mast by a seraph's intention and a novice's invention, did we not succumb to debilitating anxiety and endure soul-wrenching desire? Thread lightly, dear heart, and undermine not what we ourselves bent to the task to attain.
Empty, solitary rooms greet us but grant us nothing to allay gnawing sorrow. Dismissed, bereft and yearning, they leave us wanting -- albeitsince time without number the coming all-encompassing silence will guard our journey far from atrocities.
In another life, in a doorway the color of ashes of roses, a flirty girl awaits a gentle man with kingfisher blue eyes. Gemini felines with disparate natures loyally reside at her side, promising contented satisfaction. One warms the home fires with tender approaches, the other, ever watchful for intruders, keeps dark powers at bay to avert tragedy.
In tandem, perfect harmony results.
By Queen of Swords, Peggy Day, Hazel Brock, Stephanie Badger, et al
Art: Gemini Cats by AlexRa 2012
a man in the room *
tensile strength and in a quandary quotes --
the continuum prevails
brought about by a meeting of minds
episodes tumble one upon the other
untamed and mercurial aspects contravene
favored or forgotten the odds play out
tentative advances pry suggestions from the whole
baring colossal mistakes and effortless failings
clamoring vipers of skepticism and dissuasion
bind me fast to tradition versus quixotic inclinations
in make-shift sequences the telling was told
in a broader spectrum the story is old
given every advantage, delving into arcane matters
using every device in the combat for self-realization
ever was the objective to grant you the view
gifting you intimacy and engaging our understanding
to brighten the scope of your delicate fine tuning
and the opal filaments of your arousing, enlivening style
to christen the moments with all encompassing absorption
...not to be extinguished...or eclipsed
Queen of Swords
Queen of Swords
Enos Lases Iuvate!
in the dust-like paucity of autumn days--
an array of pageantry, a listless concertina,
winsome mischief & empowering liberty--
shades of denial & vestiges of delight
entice my spirit with audacious words
& pilfer my willful, guarded heart
i might as well give way
change your mind, seek a better deal,
cross a continent, lay bare some truths…
eloquent gestures on a crumbling road--
self-inflicted this curse--we’re apt to deny,
yet our rattletrap turns readily on a dime--
sparking the night…wheels on fire
naught to do, but give way
burdened by tyranny of a million miles,
partnered for life in oppressive solitude
your vibrant tunes, intimate with praise,
engaged my intellect & invaded my being--
a cherished knowing & consuming dread
of the ease--with which you can ruin me
it would do well, to give way
endowed with adroit creative mastery
your words of loyalty, love & longing
seasoned my life with inspired influence--
but hard-headed misdemeanors held court
& simple love gave birth to makeshift deeds,
lead-footed attempts & frivolous vendettas
what choice but give way?
this restive alliance, that captured our rights--
intertwining, engaging, earnest & evocative--
illuminating reality, foreshadowing mortality--
forfeiting to dream the sleep of the brave--
knowing the terror that whips us in shape--
accosted, reclaimed, shriven & forever sustained
yes, we might have to give way
our misconstrued assumptions were set right,
conscious of what each brought to the mix--
mesmeric verse & rhyme, fierce as ever,
reticence & industry that cashed no reward--
perfidious this bondage of the affections--
unconcerned--penates listen, laugh & scoff
give way…we might as well
denied satisfaction, rejection fueled anguish
my favors you judged bestowed on the unworthy--
if free spirits kept score, you first reached shore
”I am with you always to the end of the age,”
thus spoke Matthew, so let us collect our thoughts--
truth ever is diverted by expectancy & discernment
might we not give way?
insupportable madness, to escape what one seeks--
did we not intrigue, entertain, admire, seduce,
beguile, inspire, love and venerate each other?
did we not encapsulate the transits of virtue,
integrity, estrangement, danger & tenderness?
--this barter for intimate contact, a perfidious fee?
what option but give way?
high water rose & imps rolled with the rocks—
jubilation of sound…evidenced by your skill
infused with empathy & quixotic passions
& charily worded devotion that could not wait--
this grotesque, obsession drenched lunacy--
this lost cause--lustrated and embattled
where to, but give way?
satirical & finely honed the acid whims of fate--
entrenched in a miasma of self belittlements
& onerous desire of what is easily acquired,
overcome with foreboding and misgivings--
an unholy union of doom and foolishness--
zenith & nadir, until the tables again turn--
dear sibling, we must give way
Vesta, “goodness” of the hearth bear witness!
foretellers spoke of a legacy of frolicsome days--
in its place…scathing verdicts & grand tributes--
fine attributes were voiced…you crowned my brow
would that i might trade it for one day you wasted
one night your embrace yielded to an illicit lover
it matters naught, we must give way
much vaunted, ubiquitous, avenging angels,
festooned with noble, first-rate intentions
--too lawless, too irreplaceable to care
facing mirrors to intensify their vanity,
each wish granted as it takes flight--
tempted by tragedy & craving oblivion
untangled….they too must give way
closeted in a chamber of Venetian gold,
your hard-won finery, your genius obvious--
with elegiac grace & flawless triumph
you sold your sonnets in the marketplace--
in a sanctified grove silent wraiths await--
a reassuring presence, respectfully greeted
you know, we will give way
idolatrous, unnerving, ephemeral cadences,
covert observations & an evanescent liturgy
unleashing intuition & harnessing caustic forces--
a prodigious, profligate man, a cruel blackguard?
and she a reckless wanton, an intractable cipher?
feverishly we cursed that which is perceived
give way…another day
immortal songs conferred, but not your presence--
you said your peace & bequeathed your silence,
sent me your best regards & soon absconded
how can you depart, where you never once arrived?
youngblood night riders gave up their ghosts to aid--
the lords of the underworld have staked their claim
no choice, beloved …but give way
at once intimate & clandestine, my refined gallant
nothing is endangered, nothing sacrificed but pride
our bond as unrelenting as the ever changing tide
light years, constellations & a colliding universe
& this priceless, intricate firestorm of feelings
this mindset to endure all that we could do & say
give way, dear heart, we have had our day
The Constancy of Years
Consider the constancy of the years in which awaited all manner of insights, admiration, affirmation and defamation.
Until the plundering waters of unrest, until the plaintive voices of subjugation, until whispering endearments chose us, until then.
Mark the days that stumble within reach, the midsummer solstice, the maiden untouched; mark the summer unspent in sylvan grace, the burly winter vestments that trace our sorrows.
Fractured, splintered remnants of crystalline joy that clustered closely to the source; faltering, whimpering, dragging forth new life, staggering in its enormity -- nascent fellowship enthralled, conscious envisioning situated between those who entrapped desire, subjugated will and attained longevity.
Pleasure grants entrance to the scent of cloves, to familial memory, to flight of soaring arc. In the convoluted crevices of despairing minds, the ancients counsel surrender. Trees familiarly bend to the wind, the wonder of their intactness imbedded amongst the bruised branches.
A home in a lover’s arms, a stealthy mode of rapprochement, the closing bud gently but insistently following nature’s directive, so in turn the seeming wayward path, so in turn the scalloped edge of doom and so in evidence the lacquered, pristine sheen of all what is unseen.
from ancient Sarum to the ends of the earth
roughly scarred warriors became acolytes,
their vows memorialized by a sacred patron
bequeathed dominion over life and verdant soil,
disregard--the crux of humanity's culpability,
exploits all with flagrant, senseless voracity
nature spends it's assets in a fury of devastation
not unlike man's anger—so nurture your offspring,
for they will rage against a bewildering universe
our blatant entreaties were of a singular kind
and reciprocity alone was vital and integral
to the core of those wild, liberty drenched days
forsaken traces remain of what has perished--
that intimate joining of love and deprivation,
seething always for another way, another deed
the songs – a conduit for the timorous, the frenzied,
their distilled elegance indisputable, their sagacity
who can know; but it is said Christ bore witness
hark to the magic virtual pathways won't gratify
the knowing…the bloodied tracks we've left
the wrenching view of what was left undisclosed
elusive as the Cerynean hound was our goal
but of desire, we must bring for what we search
or not ever find it upon arrival at our lover's door
the time you could not grant, is realized now,
the freedom needed to be what you've become
was the sacrifice we owed Lachesis for rapture
the great ravager inevitably folds flower and wing,
inexorable its rampage amongst every living thing
to cast another form-- but not ever as you or i again
avidly desiring--death suddenly made an appearance
having lived each trenchant vigil, no struggle ensued--
a sanctified, loving gentlewoman was to ease the way
but Klotho snatched back the cord…for something
for someone…the sweet, irrepressible lad perhaps,
or the dream, Anamcara, from which we are to wake?"
the cache of letters culled a sparse determination
if mind is self, then self is soul, then soul is spirit
burning to disengage from Alropos' unrelenting clasp
on someone's fine promise, no timetable was laid,
in someone's caring heart, no limits were placed,
but dolorous fear-- never could joyously celebrate
a soothsayer maintains no good will come of it
auspices describe bitter failure and dull despair
cupidity, iniquity and deadly potions will triumph
midnight's crows will pick my ashen bones
as i stare at the meaningless, remorseless space
where your hand, in mine, was to have been
trust and defiance made for unlikely colleagues
love and misery have been known to be consorts
hope entwined with folly--a subject of derision
hearts raw from burning have fallen into cruelty
insecurities clamor for a sanctuary to unearth rest
the southern star winked once and then has gone out
yet, as yesterday's moribund preoccupations recede,
an array of untarnished days embrace the future--
the forgiving light of clemency may salvage us still
a willing surcease gleams, a bounding pleasure
within the lessons of our history…ever thirsting
for that which has stoically survived and thrived
youth and beauty succumbed to the toll of the road
but intact recollections grace the evening tide
and are, herewith, embraced with fond endearments
unlike the past, so hexed and gravely shielded
negated by time and circumstance... and the others,
a prism, imprinted with our leitmotif, radiates faith
contraband tears have rescinded every misdeed
and each dedicated, thoughtful year another leaf
festoons our hard-earned laurel victory wreath
in the light of reason, intellect absorbs every cue,
beneath the undertow of heart's bruised burden,
there, in the gathering momentum, respite resides
the heralds, in a vision, a traditional route proclaim--
bearing a monarch's summons with time and day,
a felicitous emissary journeys along this trodden path
while Endymion dreams of Selene's invariable rounds
cleave to one not engulfed by the enveloping dark--
bind me to your will and tenderness will rule us
nightfall's imagery speaks of a gentle coming together,
a jade and jasper intaglio of fleeting but unrivaled quality
and acceptance of what might…but yet might not ever be.
WHAT IS LOVE?
For me it means someone you can count on, someone who will hold you at night, put up with your eccentricities, overlook your weaknesses, look after you when you're sick, listen to the same old stories over and over again, stick up for you whether you're right or wrong, have fun with and share the every day ordinary insignificant things...and for whom, and with whom, you will want to do the same. I think love has no age limit and although older people are loath to admit it, (it appears quaint or unseemly) the heart remains a lonely hunter.....
“Romantic” (courtly) love--
An intimate combination of wretchedness but also glory, akin to the opulence of spiritual ascension -- a coalescing, bourgeoning desire to call forth the fabled lord of heaven and his consort to plead for compassion to assuage a driving insistence for deliverance. Reveries of acquiring a potent mythical spell that will summon the fabled reward of heaven on earth and dreamily inviting scenarios culminating in receptive, tender embraces and a devotion to bring forth gifts subtly offered by otherworldly whisperings to honor, celebrate, cherish and sanctify another soul. A legendary lingering presence of captivating entrancing melodies that showcase excellence and offer escape from tilling the soil and awaiting death. ....
Relinquishing the struggle to accept less than the one desired and giving in to the host of imaginings that insinuate themselves into the innermost sanctum of one’s heart. The amazement of recognition upon seeing one incessantly longed for, but heretofore unattainable -- a secret connection, an enchanted consanguinity without measure and the trenchant belief that catastrophe and sorrow shall not ever soil so sacred a bond. The realization that nothing and no one has encouraged, inspired, entranced and had the power to lie to waste one’s intrinsic spirit as significantly and intensely as the beloved.....
Freedom from serving disquiet and instability and a willingness to surrender one’s lifeblood in keeping with tales of old and accept the role of aspiring toward perfection. A dramatic, heart wrenching awareness, which at once energizes and becalms a feverish, restless quest to abide with another and the realization that amidst the shipwrecks of caution thrown to the winds, there glides a golden sailed skiff that betokens rescue from the solitary mindset so long in place.....
The Meaning of Life
A lively expectation of all things that are tangible and not all things intangible –the worry that nothing will be as one envisions and some things are exactly as one thinks. Ever increasing solidification of a concept that the here and now is not what it is and the hereafter is only what we conjure. There has to be nominal fee for increasing one’s grand aspirations to understand one’s timid indoctrinations into the mysteries that have escaped knowing.
Ever more another force intrudes to multiply the questions in that nothing is ever completely answered and thereby an ongoing explanation haunts the soul. Grieving for all that has gone before and anticipating all that will again occur, subjects all who query to the notion that faultless is their reasoning and very private their summoning of understanding.
Favoring the massive learning of forefathers insures a conundrum of magnificent proportions. Allowing the melt-down of all consciousness endangers the species. Free and contained in a multitude of contradictions meaning is pinpointed only in the realm of awareness and subjugated to a place of unreason otherwise.
Admitting that no one knows is tantamount to defeat and relying on the possibility there is no meaning perverts our capabilities. Assigning various concepts and philosophies expand the uninitiated, but addresses neither wisdom, knowledge or confirmation.
Responding in bright & joyous energy across great distance, my fleeting unseen smile greets the night bird as he asserts his stalwart, exultant song. As spring becomes apparent, a burgeoning radiance cascades through an open portal; my morning prayers are sanctioned & slowly the ascension of light transfixes the morning mist.
Attuned to nature’s ceaseless, vibrant, celebratory renewal, slender reeds vibrate in the breeze & bees circle patches of sweetness in the dreamy languid noon day sun. Blossoms obscure rusted train tracks & enhance a once fallow meadow. An ancient, gnarled oak, encroached by vines & imperceptibly reclaimed by the earth, serves yet to foster creatures’ habitats. Against all odds, a once too many times transplanted Japanese magnolia brings forth delicate pedals & a tiny mud colored finch asserts his right and valiantly compete with vivid cardinals and bold blue jays.
Late afternoon sun drifts through my plantation shutters -- a warm & mellow welcome. My disconsolate spirit regenerates at the precipice of fresh beginnings. If only for a season, laid aside are past resentments & oblique sorrowful excursions. Enthrallment is assuaged, aspiration rewarded & in my heart a gentle refreshed tenderness is realized.
World Weary Ways
the ever constant reminder of moments of appeasement
the wilted corsage that graced a young girl’s heart
the glamorous stars that tallied up their gains in rack & ruin
the class & clout of savvy and worldliness
the enthralling inscrutability of innumerable beliefs
the impenetrable obscurity of a thousand relics
what ushers forth illumination?
the appalling forces of humanity’s torment & affliction
the heartless depravity toward the world’s creatures
the ravishment of the land, the contamination of the sea
what place reverence?
the clouded insights and insistent irrelevance
the fleeting nature of refuge and protection
the brutalized senses & wounded subconscious
what marshals in resolution?
the heinous, incomprehensible acts of violence
the iniquitous power of affluence & renown
the inequity of justice and retribution
what promotes righteousness?
the well trodden path that leads nowhere
the seeing of answers that never come
the love that struggles & is never consummated
what determines fulfillment?