Eve of Inspiration Part 1 Complete

*Just a note. This piece is the first part of a 4 part poem meant to be read, reversed, in their entirety. I recognize the issue of length, which is why I posted in fragments for part 3, but because the whole thing then became... fragmented... beyond what it could maintain in structure and energy, so I decided to post the rest in their completion. I. There is no hour such as day There is no definition true And after when there is no never And towards forwards always flew To place restriction on the latter Would be to circumvent the obtuse And to stumble checking under ladders Would be near useless from the roof. II. I clatter, clamored down the stair And stumbled, stupid where not from I giggled silent from my platter As the secret bee that bumbled stung The pollen leaking from its slumber And the poison seeking from its end All the colors of the goddess Flora And the sacrifice of all her men. III. I dare not question what’s too given I trip with little left of choice I can only move such heavy instruments With conviction and a sturdy voice But to the countenance we all slumber And boiling forth our fortress meets With tender misplacement of intention With half confusion, stamping feet. IV. The spirit rises, lingers guiding Hops forward singing, un-compromised rhyming An honest extinguishing, distinguished from desire A heart full of anguish, brimstone and fire A daughter, a mother, a saint and a liar I stumbled, as stated, I stammered, a squire I left pitiful crowing and a vernacular maze To re-scramble the mind of the wicked and lazed un-reprising, un-rhetorical, probing for days. V. Keep writing through the moment Line by creeping line the spirit takes its form Through you, complete emerging, trying to be free Of the conform Not to conform To be adorned by scorn-less musings To be questioned for generations unseeing Un-trusting and un-amused Labeled as transparent, not transcendent And yet now the chosen choose And I refuse, to have lived without being born. VI. You will write as I have gifted you And I accept the deed I’ve won No callus nor misrepresentation Will pursue my lover’s ‘lorn My shaded shorn I have no sympathy for hands or hearts un-torn For breaking un-broken pieces un-stable rhythms take to born And leave you, wicked, wailing Wanting only to be more, to be in mourn To heed the morn. Before the shade of vixens come aboard And sirens hailing take their picture Images assailing all that sailed before. VII. I will be your teacher Having come to you in shadow and in scorn Having haunted all your images and dreams Having worn the very face that you have worn Having loved each love reborn Having seen the shadow ‘hind the sun And brought it back each blessed morn Rebirthing the song my solitude wore Rejoice that you’ve had magic, readjusted, and now more. VIII. Flagrant questioning. Mistrust. Displacement of your honest indignation Anger. Accusation. Are you thankful for the paper or the moon- Under which you were so grateful born Or the names which tie you so to me Which tie my heart to be retorn To lend its curiosity, your own To your shore IX. We shall travel roads together Which in ways were nevermore And then we bore the unbearable Glistening like diamonds on a golden shore And then the ringing charitable The ringing there’s, upon our shore. X. I will be your faithful lover If you will be behind each door And in each sunrise you awaken And in each moon our hearts are taken And by each bulb and candle And each picture, painting, more Are reunited Unified forever through all curtain Caravan Through each gypsy carnivore, and carnival Galore I will be faithful to our purpose If to my love you are but sure. XI. Love can only blossom when released Genius can only take flight with the key That lies in waiting there in heaven, as she waits on bended knee Rested softly near the pearly gate The shadows all but silent now- The questions all but fade And the sentiments of fear, and hatred Fell away with selfish glamour ‘Twas only I who made them, rest assured, as they often took to clamor no hell can damn damnation and no resurrected lord can fill the space we have been given can dance the steps we wrote, adored. XII. There may be a rhythm you are un-accustom There may be a subject yet beyond. As before As in my youth. As in our solitude. Our loving solitude. We experienced the sharpness Of the masters open door And yes I share him now As with me he was shared before. They did not sing for wanting They sang for want of more And now you labor, daunting To continue what we bore. XIII. There is no newness in our repeat But we fascinate at length at what we wit And it gives no greater pleasure than the quickness With which each verse was offered it. We mean no harm or foul in rhyming Where you’ve been so hesitant to tread But there’s something to be said for Robert Browning And we might ask him if we wish to know his head. IVX. There is access to eternal bliss-less knowing Where the innocent is trampled, beyond dread Or we may risk our heads in fear of all the showing And stand in chance to be corrected when we’re dead. I will not forsake you for being And I will not be upset to have lived And in honest in and in will to be knowing Higher chance that our souls will be wed There is comfort in feeling acceptance There is virtue in hearings one’s call And there never was any greater showing Than when everyone has waited, most of all! VX. Does many pages in a night make you a glory Does the staggering and difficulty smile Are you happier when you can be ignoring Or are you easier to spin into denial Are your sentiments as honest as you gather Is it too late in the season to retire Has another come in place of my imagine Or together are we still more than a child VIX. The flowers outside dance in grateful union Feeling master meeting master, ‘or so long When you came to me I was of understanding That it was I who’d come to you before too long And now it is in turn to my inspire And was you who led my pen to guide your hand And indeed was Eve who traveled from forever To connect the world of vision once again. VIIX. Rename our earthly mother once forever We shall return her to her palace, lovely Queen jagged are the edges of our future But society has never frightened me And the rapture is a strong and steady team And it is I who shall be white and never leave And black for cats who wish for sleeve-d banter May stay a challenge to our vision And remain the while unseen. VIIIX. It is not a matter of talent, learning Nor a matter of salutation or of light It is a mystical sensation of clairvoyance And the whisper of the whiskers of the night And while the mice are barking quiet in their bedrooms Warning softly of the tumult, that suffice I will love you from the night until the morning And one day another will inspire them to flight. IXX. It shows no understanding to be brilliant And you may label us as such or her as more But my stables are as clean as any horses And my home is less a mansion than a moor I rather like the sound of our beginning And we both know that it’s merely for the more Soon one day perhaps we’ll break beyond the barrier Of the ocean, and it’s ocean, and the shore. XX. Sleep and fill your heart with salvation Lift your hand and lift your heart more towards the soul For what we ‘deavor to accomplish is a reason Within reason to be thankful all the more. There is a doorway we are nearing ever steady There is a teaching to be learned that we are near And in loving, there is one way we might win it And in living, there is something to live for. XXI Reread nothing with intention to slander Or to render an exchange of thoughts repaired Listen only with intention to be lifted Beyond these words. Beyond my own. Beyond the shared. Child of mine be protected Lover of my mind that I adore Whisper softly to the master that you’re ready Ready, willing to be shown the golden door Softly enter where you’ll exit nevermore And be ready, wiling often to be sure Of a faith so unquestioning and steady So remorseless, you renounce the ones before Love me only, love the master, love your own internal lore let us guide you, let us save you from the rocky edge of others and their un-fulfilling shores be an island, ever fruitful, ever satisfied and well alive too alive to be satisfied un-denied and patronized release your tongue upon the tide prepare your soul to rise and your mind to die. Tonight. The night arrives, and the nightmares die, And the sun, the sun will never lie or say goodbye Until the end of time arrives. XXII. Sleep well and cradled with delight Knowing never any loneliness Knowing never loss or fright I wish to guide you through the wonder Through the color of the night I wish to show you in the words Of all the paintings which are light And leave a tender smile Where the frowning has no rite Let us start our own revival Les us set re-straight the right. XXIII. All excitement rushes forward We’re entering a cycle of eons That knows no limiting end There is no where to think of No beginning to begin to think of No where to when Without salvation we will only leave the suffering to them For we are complete in our connection In our commune, now and then Now and then- We are what we have always been. XXIV. Can you question now the we you know The direction where it takes you The stage it waits to show Where punctuation reputations stand to falter less remote Once I hollered for your mercy Now I long to see your show And less to know, and where to go Where we will go and always know The truth, we hope. The love, we grow. XXV. Call me Emily, the Piper’s Eve- The dancing digits making circles in the leaves You would have loved it in my silence In the moments when they’d leave Leave you to your musings Most of everyone asleep While you lay restless in your headdress of repeat And then you’d fondle through your letters Filled with rapture, filled with heat All the little notions that I dare not now repeat Its time to eat Feeling thirsty, yet the soul The soul entreats. XXVI. All but hesitant, she struggles for a sign To show the show-er Listens careful to the flexion in a voice no less demure Is it I who corresponding writes in circles with no name Or is it secret a beginning led to often to her fame Is it everyone or everything that ever did believe And will one day the heavens sing For our arrival if we leave.