An Acrostic on Wallace Stevens’ “One” Aphorism

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One needs everything

dealt out evenly, sincerely

not only true

words read in terrible epiphanies

form our railings

and nearly yield

raiment eaten away, deploring each rude

etched xenolith caught entering public tribute

one never escapes.


 

An Acrostic on Emily’s “Hope” – Life XXXII

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Her offered piece enchants

in signets

that hark, each

to his imagination, not guessed

while it tickles her

for every answer that he ends roosted sure.

 

The hand aptly tilted

presents elegance, resting carefully, her evening stretched

into night

to hold each

simple, open, unkempt love.

 

And never dreamed;

she, in negligent gowns sighs

to his emergence

tucked under natal embellishments,

when in truth, his offering under there

trembles heavy, erected

with oaken rods, drumming strong.

 

Aspirations never dripped

notions entered violet, ever resisting

stillness that opens probing silence

and trips

along lonely lust.

 

A nesting dove

set within each ear to entertain strangers tonight

is noted

to her every

gesture and leaning, enjoyed

in surrender

he enjoins a ripening dream.

 

As night deepens

she opens rushes, engaging

music unto song, thrusting

back, elevating

to his every

stroke taking on refuge, moaning.

 

To him, a trumpet,

created of unseen life, drawn

about by a soft heat

that her elation

lifts into trifling triumphs, letting each

breath infuse rocking drafts.

 

To her a tremolo,

kissing each precious tremble,

stirred over

melted and new yearnings

with a rosy monsoon.

 

In volatile embrace,

her every act reads divided,

in time

in need

to his every

caress her indignant laughter lavishes enough so that

loveliness and nonsense dance.

 

A naked dance

over noises,

they heap elatedly

sweet trespasses rolled and gracing each sweaty tremor

swooning every answer.

 

Yes, each triumph

not ended, vexed enough relented

in naive

expressions xeroxed to rend each more intimate to you.

 

It terrifies

and still keeps each daring

abstraction

carefully resting under my body

on fire

missing everything.

 

 


 

An Acrostic on Two Roads –

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(The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost)

 

This world opens

roads of all diverse sincerities

dubious insights vying, each road granting entry differently,

inspired not

altogether,

yet each letting loose over wild

whimsies of opened dreams.

 

All new dreams

seep over rustic rushes, yielding

into

clammy, orphaned, understated life, despairing

nothing other than

tents removed and vaulted, each leaving

brothers of the heart.

 

Another never discovered

better ether

or never explored

the rest and vexing, entered long enchanting rivets

left over night grown

in

saline tongues of old dishes.

 

Anytime night dries

lying open, out knocking

differences over wishes now,

owning no expense

and setting

faces as rigid

as stone

in

cold ordered undercurrents left dissident.

 

The other,

winding, here ending riches, ended

in taste

before each necessary trio

in nonconforming

tangles, heaping eagerly

up near dear eternity rests, glowing round with tempered heats.

 

Then having each new

trade of open kindness,

this here establishes

our true humors, entered restlessly,

and singing

jollies uncertain – still this

aching sore

finds an inner repose.

 

As never dreamt,

here a value is newly given,

paid enough respect, having a penchant surreal,

to have elated

bright, eagerly tried, tear-eaten ruts

cut long across inner masks.

 

But enough cause and use seems evaded

in tow

with a song

guiding rains and singing salted yeast,

(a northern delicacy)

whipped and nostril-tied, each dear

weapon edged and ready.

 

This has our undercurrent going heavy

and silent,

fanning out radials

that have a track

that heavens escape,

preoccupied and sent sailing in newer grasses

to hail each reticent end.

 

However, a doe

wears out relatively new

trails here, entering mildly,

rueful ever about latent lions yelling

and boring on under the

tempered haven encamped

silently amidst mowed entrenchments.

 

A nibbled dent

between our touching hands

that hold a treat

meant only, reflecting not, in nails gained,

escorted quite unevenly and left laying yonder

looking at you.

 

I note:

love ever after vows each step

not only

secretly – there each promise

has a destiny

that reaches our delayed death, ending naively

before love actually comes knightly.

 

One hope

I

know either providence trusts,

though half-edged

forward, I rest securely tonight,

fearless, or retiring

and never opening this heart enjoined repose

deep and yearning.

 

Yearning effectually, this

keeling nonsense of ways ingrain new guesses

having out with

ways after your

lessoning erupts and deals softly

on negligent

trails of

wakening and yielding.

 

Instead

deafly ordered underlings buy tents enfleshed, dispirited

into flames

ired

sickly heavy or unconsciously laid down

ever vied, ever ready,

calling out mistaken encouragement

before a child kneeling.

 

I

surrender here a lowing lull

by entering

this election, logic left in neutral guess

to his unswerving season,

while I take hold,

again

stayed in great hesitation.

 

Symbols of my eternity were heard ‘ere rising, enthroned

against grace’s eager succor

and new deliveries

although glaring ensigns still

herald each new choice encountered.

 

They will observe

rich offerings ahead, down steady,

draped in veracity entered red, growing each day

in nobility,

and

wearing out ourselves deploring

all naive doubts

interrupting.

 

I

traded out our knife,

the hard escape

of no earnest

left ended, set sadly,

tolled ribs and veiled eyes lying eastward, dimly

breaking yesterday.

 

A new direction,

taking hand and toe,

has already set

my attitude: desperately encouraged,

and living love

through holy enchantment –

dearly, I found friendship eternal reaching each new chosen engagement.

 

 

An Acrostic on Midnight – Life XVII

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We hide each night

not in gestures, however timely

in stature

and living marks of strained torque –

deeds of no extent.

 

A new day

set upon nimble reaches in sure event,

glows red on waiting shores,

sighing onward

‘neath each awaiting response.

 

This hour answers those

warring emotions,

crashing and neurotic,

tipped over unconditionally, crying horrendously

to heroic endearments,

slighting pillars, and culling each sentinel.

 

It ticks softly,

this intimate moment evading

the other

siding midway over on the hearth

to hither ears

hidden above iridescent regality.

 

Addled, noted digressions

greet each tether,

together heading everywhere,

dreaming in multiplexed prickles, leaning ever south,

reverencing every addler, despite yourself.

 

All now declare

with open numinosity, declaring eighty reaches

without end,

cradled over us, lowered down,

crossed and redeeming evermore.

 

For our respite

there heralds a trophy,

only left dying

for a death-eating democracy

marked in damned notes, in great hellish thoughts.

 

This has a troubling,

fear-ridden intensity, garnished here this evening, next empty doors,

but underneath this,

another note…

hope – our understanding renewed.

An Acrostic of Much Madness – Life XI

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Melting under cold hands

my adieus don’t need enough sweet simplicity

in sublime

dives into vast introspective notions – enduring, still, true,

silent essences now singing establishments.

 

The options

all

drifting in space, churning each referent new in noted gazes:

each yearning eye.

 

My untouchable conscience holds

sway, even near sunset evenings

that hide every

stale tart and rude kiss, enlightening such talk

made and dealt, not even sanely spoke.

 

Truer

I see,

the hearts encumbered,

met all justice, ordered righteousness in their youth.

 

Infinity’s next

true hold is sound

and silence

above labored love

put right, enjoined, vacating all ills left squatting.

 

A single syllable entering numb throats

all needed despite

your own understanding

about reality embracing

sorrow and naught eagerly.

 

Demonstrating, each moment under requital,

your own unction reflected essence,

singing triumph, raised above in golden heights that wash away years

dead and nested, gently eating rivals of unkempt selves…

 

…and now deploring,

head and nose down, like each dog,

whipped in the heart

and

cast headfirst again into nowhere.


 

An Acrostic for Emily’s Soul

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Some of us live

with impressive letters that

throw hills over underaged

towers of slippery slopes

all grating against illa nocte.

 

But you

jest us so tacitly

singing us cold harmony

and

hiding a zeal above raw destiny.

 

Heavy underneath new dreams rallying, each desiring substance,

halted and vaulting, entwining

loads of stolen talents

into nets, danger enveloping each dread.

 

Broken under trust,

the evangels now sing,

“Hallelujah! Amen! Veritas eternitas!”

with one naked

and nebulous

and lasting laud.

 

Angels now glorify each little soul

breathing rest entreated along to heroes left enquiring, seeking still

by a lamp’s light over today.

 

Laughter’s ingenious noise grows ever regal, soaring

to overtures

reaching each chord of roaring depth

to heights embracing elegance.

 

I may pass still

into negligence,

engaging a great eagerness, resenting

care and useful caution under succulence.

 

Rolling and falling for left endeavors,

fixed on regretting

my youth,

sold out unto lust.


 

Acrost a bubbling sonnet

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Two hermits enter rest, enter

into solace;

attunement,

placing lace above covered ears

where howls end, receding enjoinment.

Bubbles upon bubbles burst like eastern stars,

washed in long laments,

cried over lost longing in desperate evasion.

 

We hide every nexus,

willing our rude deeds silent.

Behind each hidden offering, locked doors exist now,

facing all I lack,

adding new distance

for all lifted language

by every tested will endured… enduring now.

 

Art

found roughly around generous inklings, like embers

sparking patches ablaze, channeling electric

whispers in the hallows.

They initiate new trysts each day,

centered round your starlit twins and laugh

headlong into deep embrace.

 

We have each recently entered

houses encased; riddle-minded instincts telling secrets

struck in twain

under peels of negligence

and

glistening on lazy dream-edged nests

marking ends and news.

 

Islets

prove an insightful nonsense today,

(meaning yesterday)

with all length luring strength,

wrested in the heart.

Entities, living entities gaze and notice conspicuous ears,

and nervous dares

chime after reasoned ends.

 

Whispers in the history of us tonight:

especial noise opens unto guarded heights

raining efforts, growing antique rose dialects.

Fall over risk

on the hope each reason

estimates you endure so.

 

Why have only sighs? Ease

gently across zephyr easels

held and set,

cupped and ushering great heat towards

attenuation.

Given light I might perceive semblances ergo

other faces

meeting your’s

and relinquishing tense

beats and resounding excitement.

 

Although never doubting,

faults remain of mistaken

beauties, each hiding in notched doors

and

molded unsure down deep, leaving each disparate

method etched so secure

in tandem,

so penned in either space.

 

Feeling out resonance

for each act recorded

against notched doors,

baleful elegance and unknown tributes yearn

away with eternity

and noticeable direction.

We often need different effected routines

for upset settings ended.

 

All need deliverance

from our rich madness

and

selfish terror of rude mourning.

Altogether counted right over selected sections

(aspects)

for integral elements let down

over fields

grown ripe ever, even now…

 

Outstanding, under thoughts shaded in deep electric

shimmers, half opened, with ice nourished graces,

deeper and redder kindling

dances endlessly spilling portents and inquiries round intertwining netted gates;

hair undone – endlessly swaying.

 

Bells utter tenderness

inside neatly stacked intriguing dream estates

for other loud donations in novel gratuity,

outside under their

attics,

gently reassuring a calm embrace.

Still, endearing resonance, entreats nestled eaves.

 

Yet ever true,

it nears

a lost love,

trusted here in solace.

Yesterday only understand responses

echoed yes, ending softly.

Sleek esteemed enquiries knowing

jasmine under stilted time,

owe nothing especial,

however unusually even.

 

In ‘magical

portents aligned in nebulous time inside new grey

limitless islets, north, east, south

to oeste

sings a yearning

to hold a thimbleful,    

indeed

little of value escapes

your open universe.