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H.P. Lovecraft  Oct 2010
The City
It was golden and splendid,                                                      
That City of light;                                                            
A vision suspended                                                              
In deeps of the night;                                                        
A region of wonder and glory, whose temples were marble and white.              
                                                                              
I remember the season                                                            
It dawn'd on my gaze;                                                          
The mad time of unreason,                                                        
The brain-numbing days                                                        
When Winter, white-sheeted and ghastly, stalks onward to torture and craze.      
                                                                              
More lovely than Zion                                                            
It shone in the sky                                                            
When the beams of Orion                                                          
Beclouded my eye,                                                              
Bringing sleep that was filled with dim mem'ries of moments obscure and gone by.
                                                                              
Its mansions were stately,                                                      
With carvings made fair,                                                      
Each rising sedately                                                            
On terraces rare,                                                              
And the gardens were fragrant and bright with strange miracles blossoming there.
                                                                              
The avenues lur'd me                                                            
With vistas sublime;                                                          
Tall arches assur'd me                                                          
That once on a time                                                            
I had wander'd in rapture beneath them, and bask'd in the Halcyon clime.        
                                                                              
On the plazas were standing                                                      
A sculptur'd array;                                                            
Long bearded, commanding,                                                        
rave men in their day—                                                        
But one stood dismantled and broken, its bearded face battered away.            
                                                                              
In that city effulgent                                                          
No mortal I saw,                                                              
But my fancy, indulgent                                                          
To memory's law,                                                              
Linger'd long on the forms in the plazas, and eyed their stone features with    
awe.                                                                            
                                                                              
I fann'd the faint ember                                                        
That glow'd in my mind,                                                        
And strove to remember                                                          
The aeons behind;                                                 &
These lovers’ inklings which our loves enmesh,
Lost to the cunning and dimensional eye,
Though tenemented in the selves we see,
Not more perforce than azure to the sky,
Were necromancy-juggled to the flesh,
And startled from no daylight you or me.


For trance and silvermess those moons commend,
Which blanch the warm life silver-pale; or look
What ghostly portent mist distorts from slight
Clay shapes; the willows that the waters took
Liquid and brightened in the waters bend,
And we, in love’s reflex, seemed loved of right.


Then no more think to net forthwith love’s thing,
But cast for it by spirit sleight-of-hand;
Then only in the slant glass contemplate,
Where lineament outstripping line is scanned,
Then on the perplexed text leave pondering,
Love’s proverb is set down transliterate.
And who shall care for that o'er which you weep
Or share the burden of this world's foredoom
Seen starkly? Behold, a haunting specter creeps
Among the binding fates spun on life's loom.
You’ll wake them not to that great misery
Which emptiness of pride has reckless wove
But pluck the web for loss and trembling
Of idols in the soul for which they strove.
Put off your glossy youth and early oaths
Devout nativity; raise up your cup
To ***** Lethe and thunder with the strokes
Of fury, treading out the ripened sup!
They will not bear to flay their sacred cows
But shades of death endure and prostrate bow.

Ages in their veins, more raging, whirl
As titanic potentials’ dreadful might
Turns girl to boy, conversely boy to girl
Unlimbing reason for unreason's fright.
That once gone right, here deftly ventures left
As self-conception staggers to its doom
Bursting the bonds of day and night, distressed
With desperate grasping measures, late and soon.
So set on generation's awesome curve
Of ageless heart and mind, how shall they bear
The die they cast at first when madly swerved
Into contesting congresses of care?
Dividing parts, dissolving in the same
The common wealth, no part the whole maintains.

Boast of the times and gilded privilege
Are these pretended guardians of State
Whose politics of power have sought to bank
Their future 'gainst dissenting arguments.
With rhetoric to foist a brave new age
They come as chaos mages on the brink
Of all disposing will, all ends betrayed
To serve their corporations’ nod and wink.
Auctioning the world, their goods are sold
Commercially with avaricious might
That sanctions lust, in quest of pyrite gold
And pirate earnings, staked upon deceit.
At last, the men of mock integrity
Luring the world to covert slavery!

Hurrah, the master men and lords of time-
From time brought forth, they are the world's latest
Whose overweening strut is in the best
Of culminating age, the mind refined!
Now to and fro they go, their lists increased
With every tally; line for line computes
Their beads of enterprise, the while relieved
Of tribulation, fate of hapless dupes.
Learning is theirs, precepts are theirs to bend;
Lawyers, clerics, politicians rest
Upon this pillar; they can split or mend
The finest lines; no guile their thoughts distress.
Step by step they round the universe
And finite lies to infinite converse!

What pride of theirs that strains for fleeting fame
Seeking to wrest from time the wasting plaque
Of recognition, host to every hack
That postures on the stage of the obscene!
Pretending worth, their practiced scripts dispose
In mocking light an empty dignity
While darkening intents; witless disclosed
On lips and brow their self-important glee.
As if full-wrought by truth's heroic wing
Their pride aspires; on vain conceits they soar
Up through the mist while private songs they sing
In self-made praise for deeds of phantom lore.
From belfries of the schools, in broken flight
They shriek away, hell's banshees of the night!

These timely wise, entranced of mind, decree-
Hear all you simple what we shall disclose
Which craft of our discernment is repose
Of wealth in understanding mastery.
A gift to all, these rich-invested beings
Pretending to resolve profundities
Decoct the world with learned fluency
Of torture ways, all gnostic knots untied.
A flair for comedy, their gelded self
Mounts every snorting bore of certainty
Then armchair resting, pants to yet indulge
Another ******* idol’s reckless scheme.
Some stowaways upon the open seas
And polished sextants of academe!

Here is their derogation, born from creeds
Of judgment in self-righteous confidence
That proves for nothing to the innocent
But swamps life's refugees with cruel conceit.
With ages they have built the edifice
Of dogma; every pit and lion’s maw
Is their contraption, set in consciousness
Of the condemning letter of their laws.
Cunning serpents, masquerading doves
They fashion argument, more vicious wrought
With rationales to blacklist those who strove
To flee their institutions’ heinous plot.
Enamored with a fascist benefit
The systems of the world they implement!

Fanatic men, how bold they tempt the fates
That meet to each the fruits of brutish will
Redoubled, which they’ve spent in kind to date
Upon their brothers, sisters…other self.
They make an estimation, rule the span
Between men; lord over equity
With zero tolerance and brazen hand
To smash upon their consanguinity.
Such is the wicked priesthood’s confidence
In its own judgment, ever owning not
The wrong condemned in others, deep dispensed
To every heart, from roots of life begot.
More wretched they, and haunted with the shame
Of hypocrites, bedeviled by the same!

O law of learning, sum of thinkers' best
Now magnified, ensconced upon the power
Of natal worth and privileged social dower;
Once ruled by you, the Earth pleads for redress.
No scruple sought, no reservation found
To staunch against your certifying will
Which point of iron stylus now furrows
The world at large as object for the ****.
So cart away your pleading victim, mired
In ****** wallows of concupiscence
And grace deny, self-dubbed the doubtless squire-
Errant usurper of the human quest.
How dignified, the rake of your ambition
That promises continual division!
ConnectHook Dec 2017
Children drugged with truthless tales . . .
Unwise men embrace their treasure;
Algorithms urge the sales
In malls devoid of merry measure.

Plastic sparkles in the air;
Automotive ads turn festive . . .
Forced good nature everywhere
Makes the shopping crowds grow restive.

Corporate greed spins altruistic
Hyping goods, suppressing Christ.
Our Yuletide is their big statistic
Oversold and underpriced.

Secular beribboned fluff:
Peace, Goodwill . . .  but don't say God !
And heaven knows you've had enough;
Just download the app—acquire the mod.

Coca-Colaed, Disneyfied
You're wrapping paper for their fire;
Eggnogged, Santa-ed, thrown aside
While Babel's flames roar ever higher.

The godlessness shines right on through
Where Christmas lyrics die, unheard.
The Yule-log and the sparks that flew
Expire in embers long unstirred.

The old usurper carting toys
And Chinese knock-offs in his sled
Sets off a lot of empty noise:
Insanity in green and red.

The lurker leers and hauls his bag
(jolly antichrist distraction)
While flying Bishop Nicholas' flag:
A winter psy-ops covert action.

Only message left: go drink!
And may your cup o'erflow with cheer
Before you risk to start to think
Yourself and God right out of here.

Hallmark haloes, bygone kitsch
enwreaths the memory of the years,
Kindling maudlin sadness which
wells up in melancholy tears

For Christian culture (rest in peace)
Long-corrupted by dollar signs;
For fa la la and fattened geese
And holly midst the ivy vines;

For Dickens' gospel of the season
Anglican angelic ghosts
Pushing us beyond unreason
Toward the future's spectral hosts;

For folklore now reduced to ash
Commercial blow-outs, ***** snow;
For Saturnalian urge to smash
the store-front windows where they show;

For useless manger figurines
Passed down from some more faithful time;
For hallowed and nostalgic scenes
No longer worth a Roman dime.
I still love Christmas but its ongoing commercial secularization by corporate globalists makes me retch (into my mulled wine).

Nonetheless, like Scrooge, I intend to keep Christmas well.
By the way, that's Merry CHRISTmas.
(No Christ, NO CHRISTMAS)

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2017/12/19/christ-massed/
Erak Freeze  Apr 2014
Jealousy
Erak Freeze Apr 2014
Evil, Mightypower,
Overcoming, sweeping by
Tidal wave of dark.
Suppression, needless
Jealousy, unreason.
Shard of hell,
Born from earth,
And broken ceramic.
Escaping freedom,
Smashed prison.
Feeding on conceited lies,
And acts of
Eviljoy.
references about Pandora's box, abstract poetry, freeverse
Once I dipt into the future far as human eye could see,
And I saw the Chief Forecaster, dead as any one can be--
Dead and ****** and shut in Hades as a liar from his birth,
With a record of unreason seldome paralleled on earth.
While I looked he reared him solemnly, that incandescent youth,
From the coals that he'd preferred to the advantages of truth.
He cast his eyes about him and above him; then he wrote
On a slab of thin asbestos what I venture here to quote--
For I read it in the rose-light of the everlasting glow:
"Cloudy; variable winds, with local showers; cooler; snow."
RoKu  May 2013
Unfolding...
RoKu May 2013
how can you say I'm beautiful?
the fact is even I can get angry so easily sometimes...

poetry replies:
coz you haven't gotten the right channel
to express
to unfolding
coz the genuine yearning in your soul
since the first
tells

coz you as you were and are
no reason to unreason
it is just be
....
K Balachandran Aug 2020
Loosing gravity, I hovered above,
The fields and woods, hills and dales,
Egrets and cranes sensing  a competetor
Near gave a chase, that was nice though.

'Just a metaphor that means a search
For beauty and lasting meaning' I heard,
Who said it; unknown commentator viewing
Every movement, each moment, of universe!

What a mystery, I thought for a moment,
Not the 'I' before, but one that is aggragated,
Above the narrow limits of me,my and mine,
The cranes and herons keeping me company
Had bid goodbye, I saw palms wave  hands.

Feeling comfortable with the new fecility
I flew high easy, couldn't find where I end
And the multiverse of wonders takes me over
"Aĺl I thought of me was as a visitor to this
Island of time and space, part of a whole,
But I have  my sweetheart close to my heart
Near and dear, friends all over the world
Many of us never met but neighbours of
My heart, I hear them from afar and their
Heartbeat I felt mine; was an adventure this,
Love prompted, a lilting poem  in progress,
Now  a flow with the wind circling universe
I am ecstacy itself, time is the essence in this
Tale, told  by many eyes" whispered I to
My invisible companions, winging with me.

And loomed large in my being my beloved
Moon with whom I fell madly in love in an
Age of unreason and wild infatuation.
She felt compelled to hold me close to her
***** and kissed my sweaty brows gently
A moment of oblivion, now I am one with
The sprit of universe, in thought and deed
When being becomes nothingness, bliss!

The starry nights, embellished in darkness
And light  is my domain till eternity, I have
No loss or gain, what 'I was' cherished is not
Taken from me a bit, in this wingless flight

The stars, a billions lighted souls dancing
In time line far near and eternal began
To hum a celestial tune that becomes all,
That makes the universe, it moves in waves
Holds all together with love and compassion
All the rest are just tales,elements create
You and I, all the rest are myths illusory
Apparition of one and only music eternal.
Mike Essig Apr 2018
"This is the end, my friend…"

Take refuge in the Golden Years.
Retire to an inevitable monastery
plopped on a suburban mountaintop.
Immerse yourself in the lost writings
of Nikita Khrushchev and Harry S Truman.
Learn to cook gizzards and meditate.
Find solace in obsolete atomic weapons,
enlightenment in the raw, butchered
expressions of the naked thermonuclear.
Wangle, ******, fire, and maneuver.
Get in touch with your inner Eichmann.
Devour baskets of tasty deplorables.
Stop clinging to guns and religion.
Love the fascism of the ordinary.
Become content with mere content.
Stop waving daggers at the innocent.
Wash yourself in the blood of the lamb.
Accept that Woodstock was futile.
Admit you can’t get no satisfaction.
Penetrate the goddess of unreason,
and come screaming to your senses.
Declare the dawn of the Age of Onanism.
Keep your fingers out of Pandora's box.
Bid farewell to the ghost of Joe Hill.
Depart the smothering, smooth life
of lust, corn flakes, and competition.
Expand your mind in a mushroom cloud.
Travel upriver to the ****** of Darkness,
legendary source of honeyed generation.
Attain new heights of perfect despair.
Discover the latent bliss of cassowaries,
rooted in their strong disdain for kale.
Play poker with the spirits of the dead.
These are your days of lucky revelation.
Lick magic frogs and witness lost dreams.
Arrive at the perfect wisdom of what is.
Everything and nothing, just what it seems.
DM Dec 2012
I tried too hard,
I suspect,
I gave attention where none was asked for,
I pleaded her beauty and soul,
though none was wanted,
She had other directions to travel,
Asking each and everyone their opinions,
ignoring them all.
She ran after him,
Held him tight a few times,
conflict settled in her mind,
less comfortable than mistakes,
choices gave way to unreason,
he disappeared,
Shes still follows,
Waiting for the day he returns,
Which he never will,
Still she dreams,
and dreams and dreams,
of him.
Brittany Leigh Feb 2010
the war zone is open
a simple stumble
onto a carelessly unplanted landmine
the photographic proof
of the ones in the winning troops
a wire was tripped
my carefully grounded feet
now stumble sightlessly through
confused by combat
as the clouds of battle
brew and storm
mushroom around me
my soul is shattered
by the shrapnel of the relationships
that were never quite had
grenades packed with unbidden love
a thousand times stronger
than any known explosive
scar and pock my psyche
with their silent detonations
the rockets of unreason
guided by an unbalanced radar
pierce the pretend walls of armor
which were never successfully reinforced
this isn't the first or worst battle
know it won't be the last,
because
there is no safe zone
there is no ceasefire
there is only surrender
to the ceaseless uncertainty
a prisoner of my own
hostile forces
Noah Clinnson Mar 2010
holy cow, words my god they can be arranged in ways that are musical and metaphorical and melodic yet menacing or mechanical, mean and maniacal.

WORDS GAH! Letters can be like musical notes and different arrangements are different chords, CHORDS CAN BE WORDS! chord progressions=sentences! There's common ones. Like C G Am F. Translated. You are so beautiful. wow so inspired. HOWEVER! one can use the same chords in different fashions to create different songs with totally different meanings LADLKJNF!
you are beautiful, so
are you so beautiful
so you are beautiful
beautiful, so are you
so beautiful, are you?
you beautiful? so are...
I believe this is clear, cleave me if mistaken but please if anything departure is unreason able would you? don't ever, you are beautiful, so beautiful.

WORDS HolY FARCE! not fake or an art satirical to the smart can you please stop shopping at wal mart?

HOLY ENGLISH! so many words i do not know how will I learn to cope with potential nope unavailable but I know I'm granted unalienable rights in my sights if I might just quote the constitution and relieve my blank poor brain of all destitution so I can keep my head high and wear a grin with pride if you wish to die i'll have to pry into your soul and save you, gotta keep you whole because without you there's one less that one may bless and all the folks will miss you oh what a mess so please I confess I need people here to read these rants and turn them into chants to sway some opinion to create a bunch of minions necessary for a change I can believe in but for that to happen i'll have to go to bed and learn to sleep in.

WOW WORD LOVE WORLD OF WORDS!

— The End —