#a sonnet

[valmalison]

Pepto Bismol jingle is going triple platinum in this household (it’s just me)

[lolilodaily]

[littleredchucks]

The constant noise is draining, drowning me Derailing, defiling, eroding and The fracturing of fragile sanity Has filled my mind and throat and eyes with sand. Until, until my thoughts begin to scratch Against my skull so raw, so sleep deprived And longing for a moment's peace to catch But sleep does not exist - noise has arrived. The screams of wayward children down the hall, Their parents hissing threats through yellow teeth. Tears, tantrums, terror bounce off the white wall Exposing the grey grime that lies beneath. There shall be no escape, no relief, no... Rescue from drowning, so under I go.

[liliesofpur-i-ty]

A Statue Speaks (III)

How unnecessary it all is! Us and the world and the mystery of both.

after Pessoa

Smoke drifts in wisps and as it wavers                                                                   –     tremulous      the whispered will    –                                              and lighter than a rose disrobes it lightly lets itself unravel                                                                   –     revelrous      the shiver stills         –                                              and wraps and wreathes where strophes in strobes 

in strident light are set aflame,                                                                            –     where     –     all prayers rise                –     and where     –     all prayer dispersed itself of slivers shrill      of silent song     –     of violent screams     –     of vibrant cries

elide from lips a light, a flame                                                     –     it quivers still

before the veil, unmoving                                                     –     or tremblingly      I wish that     –                                  on this shore of the impossible pale lips should pray no longer                                                     –     or revealingly       I wish we could be stayed or stay impassable

beyond forever                              –     wavers between wisp or plea the candle quenched                                                –     reprisal for prayer’s mystery

[liliesofpur-i-ty]

A Shadow Stutters (III)

NOW   –   from the mist emerge a monument immersed in grave in gesture heavenword CANNOT ANULL   –   stone phantom’s consummate want of the wish to merge with heavenheard shall heaven hear, the waxen vault should wane and monument ameliorate the sky

NO   –   sky   –                           always in shards already lie mute prayer’s reprisal of its faint refrain CAN UNTO ALL   –                                   enshroud the stone that longed alone and only to embrace the veil the vellum or the frail hum of beyond upon which statue’ sshadow’ sscrawls prevail

NOW NO         God glimpsed should shatter no wide eye NO NOW                                to gleam to shad(no n)ow I die

[liliesofpur-i-ty]

Stone Speaks to Shadow (III)

Lithe shadow riven from the stone it dreams – an impress of the sepulcher in mist remains if only fragment writhing seems the flesh already immanent                                                –                                                     dismissed or if dismembered then omit what can’t remembered be                             –                                   ingress: the stone rescinds its substance when eclipsed and shall recant of icon’s waxen testament of winds, of dust immured behind its silent lips, and of the ashen idol of its pain that gathers traces of apocalypse 

     – stone vanishes into the shadow’s reign,      its shadow, shroud of what it cannot be,      in death, discerns, in beauty’s absent plea

[liliesofpur-i-ty]

Idol love, Eidolon

 “A flower fell on the snow, and he simply rushed to pick it up, as if God knows what might come from the loss of this flower.                                        – Dostoevsky

A saintly falling from a longing faintly for for longing is forlorn                                    (forlorn!)                                                    Impart to me a dream between drear beauty seized within a stone amphore and graven shadows of sheer beauty’s sheen that beam upon its finished face, for there, a flower falls, for there, a hand that never touched the sky still yearns, on thorns alone alights, for there, the flower’s pall, serene, dread beauty’s shroud, to cheek from petal burns the blushing emblem of the pain that’s kept inside of of the pain and of the idol of the pain for beauty’s:                “In the knell of no – where love’s:                                                                                 ‘Elide of                                                                                  love’s elision’                 resurrects – behind the veil of                 a faintly longing for – the beautiful being                 that falling saintly dies of its desiring.”