calliberanum

thinking without thought

the feral martyrdom of God
his adolescent nutered lambs
a chaotic beautiful chasm
in his lavish ancient hand.

 

the sordid, bulbous loin cloth
his subjects washed and open
a divine feast and orgy
in drumming mantra spoken.

 

the pine tree and blossom
snow flake and flame
did we ever see the droplets
of winters coldest rain
the mountain and sea bed
a golden autumn dawn
will we ever feel our dreams
as warm blood on the chain.

 

the wandering whisps of invention
his dancers in the art
a wild and lucid vision
in this sublte, endless dark.
 

Reviews

[Silent Kim aka mizmetap..]

Wow your weaving of words are just, just poetic. You took me into a mystical pace that left my mind to reflect and ponder.

his adolescent nutered lambs

his subjects washed and open
a divine feast and orgy
in drumming mantra spoken.


will we ever feel our dreams
as warm blood on the chain.

the wandering whisps of invention

These lines I point out excellently written, speaks to me as one with freedom of choice, even though guided, the choice is there, will you feel the dream as warm blood on the chain and the whips of intervention.

Nice work.