~ Rupturing Hymen [a.K.A. Defloration] ~

Candle light oscillating Luxing like amoeba Silenced to actuate Jus Primae Noctis Poor just married Dona Lying like log to Endure engulf forced Somatic n' psychic Defloration harpooning It's bonking by law. [Shame]

Miniver Cheevy

Miniver Cheevy, child of scorn, Grew lean while he assailed the seasons; He wept that he was ever born, And he had reasons. Miniver loved the days of old When swords were bright and steeds were prancing; The vision of the warrior bold Would set him dancing.

Roosters

At four o'clock in the gun-metal blue dark we hear the first crow of the first cock just below the gun-metal blue window and immediately there is an echo off in the distance, then one from the backyard fence,

A Youth In Apparel That Glittered

A youth in apparel that glittered Went to walk in a grim forest. There he met an assassin Attired all in garb of old days; He, scowling through the thickets, And dagger poised quivering, Rushed upon the youth. "Sir," said this latter, "I am enchanted, believe me, To die, thus,

Passage To India

SINGING my days, Singing the great achievements of the present, Singing the strong, light works of engineers, Our modern wonders, (the antique ponderous Seven outvied,) In the Old World, the east, the Suez canal, The New by its mighty railroad spann'd, The seas inlaid with eloquent, gentle wires, I sound, to commence, the cry, with thee, O soul, The Past! the Past! the Past!

Natural Theology

Primitive I ate my fill of a whale that died And stranded after a month at sea. . . . There is a pain in my inside. Why have the Gods afflicted me? Ow! I am purged till I am a wraith! Wow! I am sick till I cannot see! What is the sense of Religion and Faith: Look how the Gods have afflicted me!

Proud Music Of The Storm

PROUD music of the storm! Blast that careers so free, whistling across the prairies! Strong hum of forest tree-tops! Wind of the mountains! Personified dim shapes! you hidden orchestras! You serenades of phantoms, with instruments alert, Blending, with Nature's rhythmus, all the tongues of nations; You chords left us by vast composers! you choruses! You formless, free, religious dances! you from the Orient! You undertone of rivers, roar of pouring cataracts;

To A Friend Going Blind

Today, because I couldn't find the shortcut through, I had to walk this town's entire inner perimeter to find where the medieval walls break open in an eighteenth century arch. The yellow valley flickered on and off through cracks and the gaps for guns. Bruna is teaching me to cut a pattern. Saturdays we buy the cloth.

Football (Haiku Haiku Haiku Haiku Haiku)

Like medieval knights Armor clad, in fields battle To reap victory

The Leading Edge In Red

. crimson nights crimson rains medieval trees casting shadows across a toxic romance clocked upside the head . crimson nights

Content

A youth in apparel that glittered Went to walk in a grim forest. There he met an assassin Attired all in garb of old days; He, scowling through the thickets, And dagger poised quivering, Rushed upon the youth. 'Sir,' said this latter, 'I am enchanted, believe me, To die, thus,

In Memoriam Paul Celan

Lay these words into the dead man's grave next to the almonds and black cherries--- tiny skulls and flowering blood-drops, eyes, and Thou, O bitterness that pillows his head. Lay these words on the dead man's eyelids like eyebrights, like medieval trumpet flowers that will flourish, this time, in the shade. Let the beheaded tulips glisten with rain.

Aaa) The Origins, Crusades.

In the medieval towns there was an increase in people But if one was in search of a doctor One had to go to the ghetto and Europe envied Juda. Dark roads of the ghetto, but bright ways of work! Then sometimes Israel pushes a villain out of the way and elects a Queen as nice as Esther. The Pope was in the troubles with the kings So he sent some of them to the Crusades. The knives made love with the Berber Princesses on the way to Aleppo, They ate hot azime bread and drank mint tea under the palms,

The Journey

Anghiari is medieval, a sleeve sloping down A steep hill, suddenly sweeping out To the edge of a cliff, and dwindling. But far up the mountain, behind the town, We too were swept out, out by the wind, Alone with the Tuscan grass. Wind had been blowing across the hills For days, and everything now was graying gold With dust, everything we saw, even

Crescent Fairy

POEM I saw a shoe a' sailing a' sailing on the sea The fairies were it a' using for boats they mayn't have you see. Ethereal Fairies, if you're real Come share with me a sumptuous meal And we'll ferry together in a ferry A fairy in a ferry, a sight very merry.

On The Building Of Springfield

Let not our town be large, remembering That little Athens was the Muses' home, That Oxford rules the heart of London still, That Florence gave the Renaissance to Rome. Record it for the grandson of your son — A city is not builded in a day: Our little town cannot complete her soul Till countless generations pass away.

Face Masks/Face Veils, The Same Thing

Masks prose without links When last I visited India almost a decade ago I recall riding on my brother's scooter as he drove me around town, And I saw fully veiled Muslim women half their faces veiled, masked in Niqab driving scooters, motorbikes, mopeds and motorcycles. I also recall some women also covering half their faces with their dupattas

' Masculine Majesty... '

‘ Masculine Majesty … ’ Medieval Lines # 2 Lo’ and Behold … Thy Masculine Majesty Thy Manliness, Suits Thee, Most Perfectly As Knightly Swain, doth’ this Maid Elate Wherefore Thy Warrior Hands, Commence Passionate Thy Kingly Eyes, Glisten-Graciously, Wise And Smolder My Sight, as Sun doth’ Skies

Medieval English Cathedral

Once I had this fanciful idea of recording the silence in each great cathedral and marketing these... As you pull open the worn and squeaky door there's a strange moment of apprehension as if you're not sure what will greet you - a fullness or an emptiness; a football-stadium roar or a silence; an earfull of praise or a mindfull of questions...

That Night

That night, in a strange place I was like a fly Circling around a street lamp Reeling…Reeling! I felt so alone Fear wrenched my throat Couldn’t predict When I would be charred to death I had heard,