Comments received on poems by aDarkerMind
Of All I Owe The Very Least
L. B. Mek said:
\'as a silent thunder, drains
my sleepwalk snare
scouting tresspass on the almonds
of the dull weed, steer\'..
beautifully vivid and exceptionally Unique, as always
Abstract, stretched to its fathomable tethers..
thanks for choosing to share your brilliance, dear Poet
\'what, a Talent!\'
August 5th, 2021 03:31
L. B. Mek said:
\'as a silent thunder, drains
my sleepwalk snare
scouting tresspass on the almonds
of the dull weed, steer\'..
beautifully vivid and exceptionally Unique, as always
Abstract, stretched to its fathomable tethers..
thanks for choosing to share your brilliance, dear Poet
\'what, a Talent!\'
August 5th, 2021 03:31
When Once Was Nothing More Than Just
L. B. Mek said:
\'flickers with the fibres
of vegan lips on a red meat mist
fisting the papers of my dove note droll
oiling the fountain of my salmon
releasing the ashes of my dead rose
so I sink with the treasures of the reef;
when once was nothing more
than just brail air on the hairs of my page\'..
Indeed, dear visionary Poet
\'may, we all
be lucky enough, to drown
in our exertion\'s: rains!\'
Brilliantly executed
it\'s a privilege, to read
your Poetry\'s: unwavering honesty.
August 3rd, 2021 04:01
L. B. Mek said:
\'flickers with the fibres
of vegan lips on a red meat mist
fisting the papers of my dove note droll
oiling the fountain of my salmon
releasing the ashes of my dead rose
so I sink with the treasures of the reef;
when once was nothing more
than just brail air on the hairs of my page\'..
Indeed, dear visionary Poet
\'may, we all
be lucky enough, to drown
in our exertion\'s: rains!\'
Brilliantly executed
it\'s a privilege, to read
your Poetry\'s: unwavering honesty.
August 3rd, 2021 04:01
When Once Was Nothing More Than Just
aDarkerMind said:
am always deeply touched by your comments Teddy.
very rare i write anything that i like;
but reading your poerty has taught me.....
write with your heart and never be afraid to cry!
thank you;
August 2nd, 2021 12:59
aDarkerMind said:
am always deeply touched by your comments Teddy.
very rare i write anything that i like;
but reading your poerty has taught me.....
write with your heart and never be afraid to cry!
thank you;
August 2nd, 2021 12:59
Through The Swollen Glands Of November
aDarkerMind said:
Hello Teddy,
thank you for your kind words.
at times a little crude.. as you say.
I simply go where the mood takes me.
with a mind that never rests.
a more mellow mood today tho;
hope you\'re keeping well;
August 1st, 2021 02:17
aDarkerMind said:
Hello Teddy,
thank you for your kind words.
at times a little crude.. as you say.
I simply go where the mood takes me.
with a mind that never rests.
a more mellow mood today tho;
hope you\'re keeping well;
August 1st, 2021 02:17
Soon, Without Purpose To The Glare;
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Neil;
never got to see Mac of Nicks...
have always had a crush on her!
July 31st, 2021 08:25
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Neil;
never got to see Mac of Nicks...
have always had a crush on her!
July 31st, 2021 08:25
Soon, Without Purpose To The Glare;
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Teddy.
i am very touched by such a comment;
I cant thank you enough.
July 31st, 2021 08:23
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Teddy.
i am very touched by such a comment;
I cant thank you enough.
July 31st, 2021 08:23
If Only Time Could Sabre My Tooth Blood
L. B. Mek said:
(sorry, didn\'t do too well with my
not gonna be so overzealous, promise - yesterday
I blame your inking brilliance, still
I will repress my natural tendencies better today)..
and simply state, this was a hauntingly surreal
yet somewhat amusingly, an entirely relatable read:
\'blowing my trumpet and scoulding one movement of a sin;
how cross the moment on a steel grass
passing death where death has never confessed
asking only for a square god\'..
(if we could just get a definitive rule book
for life: at least we would know
which BS fuckery to shred and trample - on)
July 30th, 2021 04:36
L. B. Mek said:
(sorry, didn\'t do too well with my
not gonna be so overzealous, promise - yesterday
I blame your inking brilliance, still
I will repress my natural tendencies better today)..
and simply state, this was a hauntingly surreal
yet somewhat amusingly, an entirely relatable read:
\'blowing my trumpet and scoulding one movement of a sin;
how cross the moment on a steel grass
passing death where death has never confessed
asking only for a square god\'..
(if we could just get a definitive rule book
for life: at least we would know
which BS fuckery to shred and trample - on)
July 30th, 2021 04:36
Neither Love Nor Fever Heals
L. B. Mek said:
\'neither love nor fever heals
the stale wind in a winters claw\'..
*could we one, and all be sealed
by that grip of our anxiety\'s maw;
would we - but
succumb, to snare
all that dreary, in our despair
within wings of soaring - tears
climbing, higher
as we forsaken - hurtle lower, asking
be it life or lust or zest
when we know - it will, but expire
a craw serenades, fate\'s - waiting jest
as vampires feast, on charcoaled veins
and mothers, yearn
stoic fathers, ever stern
and we, lost children - bereft
from that accursed, first breadth
grip, for dear life - asking
why, but why - must
we: even try...*
(wow, I\'m sorry dear Poet
I read your masterly lines and a gun went-off
in that egotistically delusional mind, of mine
and I just keyboard drummed, my feeble reply;
please, forgive my overzealous nature
I meant no disrespect by rudely, self-indulgently
writing away in your comments section
if somehow you can, try and view it
as my pitiful show of appreciation, for your
undeniable: poetic prowess!
thank you for inspiring my little scribble
what a gift, you choose to share dear Poet)
what a Talent!
July 29th, 2021 04:13
L. B. Mek said:
\'neither love nor fever heals
the stale wind in a winters claw\'..
*could we one, and all be sealed
by that grip of our anxiety\'s maw;
would we - but
succumb, to snare
all that dreary, in our despair
within wings of soaring - tears
climbing, higher
as we forsaken - hurtle lower, asking
be it life or lust or zest
when we know - it will, but expire
a craw serenades, fate\'s - waiting jest
as vampires feast, on charcoaled veins
and mothers, yearn
stoic fathers, ever stern
and we, lost children - bereft
from that accursed, first breadth
grip, for dear life - asking
why, but why - must
we: even try...*
(wow, I\'m sorry dear Poet
I read your masterly lines and a gun went-off
in that egotistically delusional mind, of mine
and I just keyboard drummed, my feeble reply;
please, forgive my overzealous nature
I meant no disrespect by rudely, self-indulgently
writing away in your comments section
if somehow you can, try and view it
as my pitiful show of appreciation, for your
undeniable: poetic prowess!
thank you for inspiring my little scribble
what a gift, you choose to share dear Poet)
what a Talent!
July 29th, 2021 04:13
Neither Love Nor Fever Heals
flyingfish said:
WOW packed with wonderful imagery and word play. Love it. Cheers
July 29th, 2021 00:42
flyingfish said:
WOW packed with wonderful imagery and word play. Love it. Cheers
July 29th, 2021 00:42
Before My Prayers Layed Still
L. B. Mek said:
\'infant screams for mortals with no crotch
bunched beside a rib-cage eye
while the hunched Stork borrowed an inch of my hill
before my prayers layed still;\'
\'look harder for the birth-scar of the vine.
watch as the sleeping city dreams of padlocks for it\'s Bull
planting his stars on a half-mast moon
mourning a glass half empty
before my prayers layed still;\'
Brilliant!!!
(what poignant lines to book-end
this soaring poetry of scorching passion
questing, for an answer
to a faith, that\'s so desperate - to stem
its continual: waning tide...)
July 27th, 2021 04:23
L. B. Mek said:
\'infant screams for mortals with no crotch
bunched beside a rib-cage eye
while the hunched Stork borrowed an inch of my hill
before my prayers layed still;\'
\'look harder for the birth-scar of the vine.
watch as the sleeping city dreams of padlocks for it\'s Bull
planting his stars on a half-mast moon
mourning a glass half empty
before my prayers layed still;\'
Brilliant!!!
(what poignant lines to book-end
this soaring poetry of scorching passion
questing, for an answer
to a faith, that\'s so desperate - to stem
its continual: waning tide...)
July 27th, 2021 04:23
Under Once Of Bone When Salem Slept
L. B. Mek said:
\'cut my knees
curdle the custard of my trees
knowledge is
memory is
is all beyond the treasures of disease\'..
Brilliant!
July 23rd, 2021 04:50
L. B. Mek said:
\'cut my knees
curdle the custard of my trees
knowledge is
memory is
is all beyond the treasures of disease\'..
Brilliant!
July 23rd, 2021 04:50
Under Once Of Bone When Salem Slept
flyingfish said:
WOW so complex and full of imagery and prompts to dwell upon. Thanks and Cheers
July 22nd, 2021 14:22
flyingfish said:
WOW so complex and full of imagery and prompts to dwell upon. Thanks and Cheers
July 22nd, 2021 14:22
when love was just a thigh bones flute
L. B. Mek said:
\'when love was just a thigh bones flute
that circled the corners of my naive
a bright coloured child with an asparagus foot\'..
(behold, fusion - imagery of \'meta-simile\'
where the impassioned fumes
of a child\'s shaky, femur - step, towards
that first taste:)
\' this guildhall pool where once your unbuttoned blouse
gave comfort to my calloused hands
as we gazed into a seahorse heart
and wished all things eternal;
when love was just a thigh bones flute;\'
(a write, the great Dante
could have happily dedicated to Beatrice, I think
thanks for sharing)
and I promise to tone down
the overzealousness tone
of my comments, dear poet...
well, allowing
for this - last one, today
promise: to try
at the very least
July 22nd, 2021 02:46
L. B. Mek said:
\'when love was just a thigh bones flute
that circled the corners of my naive
a bright coloured child with an asparagus foot\'..
(behold, fusion - imagery of \'meta-simile\'
where the impassioned fumes
of a child\'s shaky, femur - step, towards
that first taste:)
\' this guildhall pool where once your unbuttoned blouse
gave comfort to my calloused hands
as we gazed into a seahorse heart
and wished all things eternal;
when love was just a thigh bones flute;\'
(a write, the great Dante
could have happily dedicated to Beatrice, I think
thanks for sharing)
and I promise to tone down
the overzealousness tone
of my comments, dear poet...
well, allowing
for this - last one, today
promise: to try
at the very least
July 22nd, 2021 02:46
how can i grieve a sectioned man who once crawled upon the seething of my blood?
Locust said:
very interesting metaphors
read it a couple of times & it
kept on getting more engaging
I admire your style 👍
July 20th, 2021 20:25
Locust said:
very interesting metaphors
read it a couple of times & it
kept on getting more engaging
I admire your style 👍
July 20th, 2021 20:25
And Me, Of The Flower And The Burn
L. B. Mek said:
what a cascading waterfall of acutely chosen
and uniquely vivid metaphorically abstract, imagery..
and I gravitate to your ability in managing
that essential tempo, by increasing your poetry\'s complexity
at poignant moments:
\'drowning in my lake with the swans
where wanders the tremors of my white blood oil;
I am the pilgrim of her dove-tail prose reviews
a satanic verse for the still-born of her movement.
me, of the flower and the burn\'..
(drowning
swans
blood-oil) that\'s just your initial layered - wordplay
and you\'ve planted all those oil leak, disaster images
in our minds already, to reinforce \'her\' plight..
(dove-tail
burn) - culminating finale, where again you add to the layers
already \'at play\', only now you\'ve \'set ablaze\' that initial image
we have of the oil drenched swan...
(pilgrim
satanic verse
still born
flower) now a completely new layer, with double meaning
wordplay, addressing your frustration at the hollowness
you feel, knowing your words, be themselves
will never amount to - decisive or impactful, change..
\'What a talent!\' wish I could invest more time
in all your writes..
just know I do my best to connect with every aspect
of all your writes,
and I thank you
for choosing to share your poetic brilliance
July 20th, 2021 03:20
L. B. Mek said:
what a cascading waterfall of acutely chosen
and uniquely vivid metaphorically abstract, imagery..
and I gravitate to your ability in managing
that essential tempo, by increasing your poetry\'s complexity
at poignant moments:
\'drowning in my lake with the swans
where wanders the tremors of my white blood oil;
I am the pilgrim of her dove-tail prose reviews
a satanic verse for the still-born of her movement.
me, of the flower and the burn\'..
(drowning
swans
blood-oil) that\'s just your initial layered - wordplay
and you\'ve planted all those oil leak, disaster images
in our minds already, to reinforce \'her\' plight..
(dove-tail
burn) - culminating finale, where again you add to the layers
already \'at play\', only now you\'ve \'set ablaze\' that initial image
we have of the oil drenched swan...
(pilgrim
satanic verse
still born
flower) now a completely new layer, with double meaning
wordplay, addressing your frustration at the hollowness
you feel, knowing your words, be themselves
will never amount to - decisive or impactful, change..
\'What a talent!\' wish I could invest more time
in all your writes..
just know I do my best to connect with every aspect
of all your writes,
and I thank you
for choosing to share your poetic brilliance
July 20th, 2021 03:20
What Price The Lewesdon Hill?
aDarkerMind said:
most kind...
and it is I who is humble I think.
thank you.
July 19th, 2021 13:33
aDarkerMind said:
most kind...
and it is I who is humble I think.
thank you.
July 19th, 2021 13:33
What Price The Lewesdon Hill?
L. B. Mek said:
\'the spells of stones on limescale
the wells of a Dorset eye
where once I breathed with the ghost of Hardy\'s pen.
now sixty years and counting still
the love lines of my wrist
not deep enough to sing a sad farewell
nor high enough to reach a stairwells chime.\'
\'a ballad for a dying man
punching through the windows of my ears.
in Kings Wood,
where once I shared my carpet with the Yellow Kidney Vetch
sketched an arrow pointing south to Bucknowle Farm,
saw far beyond Old Harrys Rocks,
kissed Kimmeridge on a Dancing Ledge
and watched The Purbeck Marble shed it\'s skin.\'
(its just a privilege, to read - everything
that poetic genius of your mind, chooses
to share with us, dear poet
humbly, I thank you!)
July 19th, 2021 04:37
L. B. Mek said:
\'the spells of stones on limescale
the wells of a Dorset eye
where once I breathed with the ghost of Hardy\'s pen.
now sixty years and counting still
the love lines of my wrist
not deep enough to sing a sad farewell
nor high enough to reach a stairwells chime.\'
\'a ballad for a dying man
punching through the windows of my ears.
in Kings Wood,
where once I shared my carpet with the Yellow Kidney Vetch
sketched an arrow pointing south to Bucknowle Farm,
saw far beyond Old Harrys Rocks,
kissed Kimmeridge on a Dancing Ledge
and watched The Purbeck Marble shed it\'s skin.\'
(its just a privilege, to read - everything
that poetic genius of your mind, chooses
to share with us, dear poet
humbly, I thank you!)
July 19th, 2021 04:37
without the light of a sudden suprise
L. B. Mek said:
there\'s a film, its a 90\'s oldy and one I have a soft spot for
titled \'Rising Sun\', with the great Sean Connery
and a young Wesley snipes,
basically the premise, is a beautiful young lady
murdered in a Japanese office and this two guys
from wildly differing backgrounds investigate.
If you ever get a chance to see it
I think you may see how your words, inadvertently
may be interpreted
as an empathetic dedication: to that young lady...
\'running with the caffeine stains
of her swollen mound, her gown
for her creatures
and her caged hips, shits
on the foreskin
of her dancing cock and bull
how senseless: the needlessness
of our lust\'..
(what a purposefully - poignantly, aggressive
and deeply insightful write, dear poet
\'what a Talent\'!)
July 19th, 2021 04:32
L. B. Mek said:
there\'s a film, its a 90\'s oldy and one I have a soft spot for
titled \'Rising Sun\', with the great Sean Connery
and a young Wesley snipes,
basically the premise, is a beautiful young lady
murdered in a Japanese office and this two guys
from wildly differing backgrounds investigate.
If you ever get a chance to see it
I think you may see how your words, inadvertently
may be interpreted
as an empathetic dedication: to that young lady...
\'running with the caffeine stains
of her swollen mound, her gown
for her creatures
and her caged hips, shits
on the foreskin
of her dancing cock and bull
how senseless: the needlessness
of our lust\'..
(what a purposefully - poignantly, aggressive
and deeply insightful write, dear poet
\'what a Talent\'!)
July 19th, 2021 04:32
summer jazz; manhatten;
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Neil;
Manharren is my all time fave.
Woody Allen to me is a master of comedy;
July 17th, 2021 08:59
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Neil;
Manharren is my all time fave.
Woody Allen to me is a master of comedy;
July 17th, 2021 08:59
as now the beast has come
L. B. Mek said:
there is so much depth
to how you utilise
that captivating trait
of juxtapose imagery:
\'coral (wordplay on chorale) hymns, for the dancing of the whale\'
\'tall gods for the arches*
house of chamelion;\'
\'ancient grapes with their paper mache hands
spoon flavours to the moon
of t-bone eyes and snails fin\'
(and that\'s all from two stanzas, lol)..
\'what a talent, you choose to share dear poet
thank you!\'
and btw have you read \'the master and margarita\'
by Mikhail Bulgakov,
July 16th, 2021 04:09
L. B. Mek said:
there is so much depth
to how you utilise
that captivating trait
of juxtapose imagery:
\'coral (wordplay on chorale) hymns, for the dancing of the whale\'
\'tall gods for the arches*
house of chamelion;\'
\'ancient grapes with their paper mache hands
spoon flavours to the moon
of t-bone eyes and snails fin\'
(and that\'s all from two stanzas, lol)..
\'what a talent, you choose to share dear poet
thank you!\'
and btw have you read \'the master and margarita\'
by Mikhail Bulgakov,
July 16th, 2021 04:09
who cares the age of fantasy
L. B. Mek said:
\'high into the hills of a beehives afternoon tea
singing to the trees of my innocence and guilt;
in abstract form, a mangoes mother cheers a taverns light
with flight of hand, dangling the marrow of my aunt
on sawdust floors where pours a warming ale
deep into the eyes of the lovers crystal glaze
as each crooked beam steams the windows of my bread;\'
\'still, I make of this my very own affair;\'
\'and I too, was a kid once;\'
Amen!
Artistry\'s sublime decadence
of worded Poetic transcendence...
humbly, I thank you
\'What a Talent!\'
July 13th, 2021 06:11
L. B. Mek said:
\'high into the hills of a beehives afternoon tea
singing to the trees of my innocence and guilt;
in abstract form, a mangoes mother cheers a taverns light
with flight of hand, dangling the marrow of my aunt
on sawdust floors where pours a warming ale
deep into the eyes of the lovers crystal glaze
as each crooked beam steams the windows of my bread;\'
\'still, I make of this my very own affair;\'
\'and I too, was a kid once;\'
Amen!
Artistry\'s sublime decadence
of worded Poetic transcendence...
humbly, I thank you
\'What a Talent!\'
July 13th, 2021 06:11
When Once The Veil Of Her Face
L. B. Mek said:
\'unravelled the twists and turns as voice meets voice
torturing the ghost of my ears;
her eyes of a forest green
still lost inside the portrait of her distant shell
on her canvas of elusive bones
hiding with the hearts of swans far beyond her castle walls\'..
at this point, I just want to deep-dive, study
everything you write
I will say it, till the moon regains her sunflower beam
its a privilege to witness: your poetic genius, at play
July 13th, 2021 06:05
L. B. Mek said:
\'unravelled the twists and turns as voice meets voice
torturing the ghost of my ears;
her eyes of a forest green
still lost inside the portrait of her distant shell
on her canvas of elusive bones
hiding with the hearts of swans far beyond her castle walls\'..
at this point, I just want to deep-dive, study
everything you write
I will say it, till the moon regains her sunflower beam
its a privilege to witness: your poetic genius, at play
July 13th, 2021 06:05
Who Lights The Way?
Poetic Dan said:
Many things I could say but I\'m quite glad I found your work today and went to the beginning to find this gem of word play!
Truly appreciated
Much peace and respect
July 11th, 2021 06:44
Poetic Dan said:
Many things I could say but I\'m quite glad I found your work today and went to the beginning to find this gem of word play!
Truly appreciated
Much peace and respect
July 11th, 2021 06:44
Changing of the Guard
Poetic Dan said:
\"Sleeping alone with the medals of my constant war\" wow what a line and so much more, thank you for the inspiration!
Keep up the write
Much peace and respect
July 11th, 2021 06:38
Poetic Dan said:
\"Sleeping alone with the medals of my constant war\" wow what a line and so much more, thank you for the inspiration!
Keep up the write
Much peace and respect
July 11th, 2021 06:38
when time became my ocean
flyingfish said:
WOW. Wonderful imagery. Well done. Best Wishes
July 9th, 2021 12:39
flyingfish said:
WOW. Wonderful imagery. Well done. Best Wishes
July 9th, 2021 12:39
A Ponytail In A Hitchcock Play
L. B. Mek said:
(As much as I\'m just awed
by your display of poetic genius!)
surely, this write needs an age restriction warning
please, lets at least try to maintain some semblance
of consideration for the - as yet, untainted
by the life-weary: demoralised in our society,
(its just a click
costs nothing - takes away nothing
a simple gesture, that
common-sense civility: still exists)..
anyway, please forgive my opinionated moaning
and thanks for sharing
July 9th, 2021 03:35
L. B. Mek said:
(As much as I\'m just awed
by your display of poetic genius!)
surely, this write needs an age restriction warning
please, lets at least try to maintain some semblance
of consideration for the - as yet, untainted
by the life-weary: demoralised in our society,
(its just a click
costs nothing - takes away nothing
a simple gesture, that
common-sense civility: still exists)..
anyway, please forgive my opinionated moaning
and thanks for sharing
July 9th, 2021 03:35
And I, Who Has Kissed The Eyes Of Her Trees
L. B. Mek said:
\'and I, who has kissed the eyes of her trees
laid bare my snow-flake skin
with pains of a sulking wood\'
\'beyond the chorus of her mind
within a single word of a thimbles prayer
the high breeze of her scattered crawl\'
\'cast aside by the petals of lifes\' uncertain rose
as flows her blood through the veins
of my own now weary heart;\'
\'and I, who has died beside her grave
danced with the chimes of her cathederal eyes\'
\'and I, who has walked beneath her dawn
scented the candles of her hands
followed the echo of her breath\'
\'she, who now walks beneath my dawn
will sleep in peace
with the warmth of a one last midnight kiss
I will cry no more
and live forever in her heart;\'
\'with nothing left but the memory of her smile\'
(please forgive me for daring to rearrange
your masterful stanzas, dear Poet
but this is how your Poem expressed itself to me
so Beautifully!)
genuinely, one of the best love Poems
I have ever read: anywhere!
thank you, what a privilege
July 6th, 2021 03:14
L. B. Mek said:
\'and I, who has kissed the eyes of her trees
laid bare my snow-flake skin
with pains of a sulking wood\'
\'beyond the chorus of her mind
within a single word of a thimbles prayer
the high breeze of her scattered crawl\'
\'cast aside by the petals of lifes\' uncertain rose
as flows her blood through the veins
of my own now weary heart;\'
\'and I, who has died beside her grave
danced with the chimes of her cathederal eyes\'
\'and I, who has walked beneath her dawn
scented the candles of her hands
followed the echo of her breath\'
\'she, who now walks beneath my dawn
will sleep in peace
with the warmth of a one last midnight kiss
I will cry no more
and live forever in her heart;\'
\'with nothing left but the memory of her smile\'
(please forgive me for daring to rearrange
your masterful stanzas, dear Poet
but this is how your Poem expressed itself to me
so Beautifully!)
genuinely, one of the best love Poems
I have ever read: anywhere!
thank you, what a privilege
July 6th, 2021 03:14
what else that hides between?
L. B. Mek said:
\'between the fathom and the furlong
where twists the knives
of the thriving athiest
sister of the sun, mother of the moons\'
incarcerated doubt
with her stout heart and steady aim
so wings the steady progress
of her digestive heart\'s unsteady flight;\'
\'between Dante\'s hell
and her pale green skin of Oak
where her tempermental offspring
thrive on the saliva of her eyes
in splintered nests possessed
with obsessions cut and dried\'
\'between us and them
between a mundane and a miracle
before the healing of progressive scorn
I can do nothing more but witness
the shitless wonders
of a cold war in a summer heat, giving reason
for a heaving lungs
release from a captives grip;\'..
(behold: modernity\'s
self-destructive war
fought on those hairline splinters of difference
between those who profess to worship
one or a handful of deities - only
and thereby: by default
claim themselves - to be, atheist\'s
towards the other 3\'000 deities, known
to humanity;
and
those other\'s, who profess themselves
as atheist\'s to the entire 3\'000 or more
known deities, in our world...!)
how succinctly, yet poignantly you\'ve worded
our absurd basis for this seemingly unending
hatred and divisiveness,
dear talented Poet
(forgive me for cutting and pasting, so rudely
I was just trying to highlight your brilliance)
July 5th, 2021 05:17
L. B. Mek said:
\'between the fathom and the furlong
where twists the knives
of the thriving athiest
sister of the sun, mother of the moons\'
incarcerated doubt
with her stout heart and steady aim
so wings the steady progress
of her digestive heart\'s unsteady flight;\'
\'between Dante\'s hell
and her pale green skin of Oak
where her tempermental offspring
thrive on the saliva of her eyes
in splintered nests possessed
with obsessions cut and dried\'
\'between us and them
between a mundane and a miracle
before the healing of progressive scorn
I can do nothing more but witness
the shitless wonders
of a cold war in a summer heat, giving reason
for a heaving lungs
release from a captives grip;\'..
(behold: modernity\'s
self-destructive war
fought on those hairline splinters of difference
between those who profess to worship
one or a handful of deities - only
and thereby: by default
claim themselves - to be, atheist\'s
towards the other 3\'000 deities, known
to humanity;
and
those other\'s, who profess themselves
as atheist\'s to the entire 3\'000 or more
known deities, in our world...!)
how succinctly, yet poignantly you\'ve worded
our absurd basis for this seemingly unending
hatred and divisiveness,
dear talented Poet
(forgive me for cutting and pasting, so rudely
I was just trying to highlight your brilliance)
July 5th, 2021 05:17
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