In the Cathedral of the mind where you bind every thought,
Yet running wild in the half light, child free and unbeguiled,
No greater chance, no better time than to prance and dance
In the Cathedral of the Mind
Here in low luminescence of the night you might take flight
To regions unknown, blown far afield what to be shown
In the Cathedral of the Mind
So far away, Elysium, where day never ends and the cabernet freely flows,
Receive me in your blessed abode, leave me not alone, deceive me no more,
For I was born for your shores, sworn for your stores of golden grain evermore,
Will you take me in to begin again, new life in perfection without soul defection,
Hope everlasting, never asking for peace, for war to cease, nothing to increase,
Never alone, always shone great wonders untold, spirit so bold, lover to hold,
Now so close, Elysium, in never-ending beginning, singing with angels winging
Elysium
Strange things dare to appear in dreamland with sands of time flowing above,
Somehow, somewhere to dare sleep slip away lest she have something to say,
After all, night is day in the fertile fields of dreamland as spacious as my soul,
Yet there is an ubiquitous emptiness in the fullness of the mystic meanderings,
Wanderings wondering where we are going in, around and through absurdity
As odd broken thoughts flit about here and there in the eclectic eccentricity
That only a sleeping psyche can conjure without conjecture in senseless beauty
In dubious duty to slumber so sanguine, never languid, causing anguish of mind
In binding it to such bizarre bazaars of mixed recollections and new tales told
Without rhyme or reason in the lullaby season in treason against rationality,
But this is dreamland, after all, where the banality of my reality is left behind
Flying through Time against Winds of Change to rearrange Reality,
Appealing to the Turnkey of Heaven to leaven existence with Life,
Compelling with persistence to pity abject prisoners of the Cosmos,
Who only want to be free to be everything they were meant to be,
And so we’re dancing on the Edge of Reality, advancing to the end,
Another beginning spinning on the axis of Truth without any proof
To tell another tale of remorse and regret and high hope to amend,
If only the Lord condescends to extend Mercy with another chance
In advance of everlasting Grace that makes all things new yet again,
As we keep turning on the Edge of Reality . . .
Remembering the first time we ever met, me and you under skies so blue
With hues of red and pink and inky clouds on one fine, pretty day in May,
And you so rough and rugged with a flare for sports that I could not bear
And me so odd and different and bent to the esoteric atmosphere of life,
Seeing what others could not see and hearing what others could not hear,
Yet it all seemed normal to me and to my lovely brother, Jamie, my heart
And my better part, ever and always, but you came along in golden song,
With skin so smooth and tan, flashing smile and piercing eyes, and strong
And we looked across the ground and instantly found one common soul,
And no one ever knew that two young boys could ever be like tide and sea,
So very free when bound so closely and yet so different, except my Jamie,
And he made three-in-one, an almost divinely-human holy communion
In which we each remained ourselves while inseparable in loving union
Note: Although I do have one brother, he is 10 years older and his name is not “Jamie,” who is simply one blessed part of this childhood fantasy.
I Lost my Love in the Land of Lokilict
Where the Pines are Purple and Plush
And Fields Fertile with Fresh Foliage
Where the Rivers Run Red with Roses
And People are Pleasant and Peaceful
Where the Hills Hide Hidden Heliodor
And the Leas Look Like Lemony Lakes
Where the Folks Forage Fruit For Fun
And the Sun in the Sky Shines Serenely
Where the Rains Rain down Reverently
And Sparrows Sing Songs So Splendidly
Where Breezes Blow Back Benevolently
And the Moon Mystifies so Marvelously
Ah! But . . .
I Lost my Love in this Land of Lokilict
I can see you in my dreams
You fly so high up into my sky
While you stultify me as I cry
And I cannot reach you though I desire
With love burning brightly in blue-flaming fire
But never quite knowing what you require
As I lay me down for my soul to expire
Hold me now as I cry one last cry
Reaching for you so high in the sky
I can see you in my dream
Note: The Symetrelle is a form created by Julie Moeller Writing on Allpoetry.com as Bluejewel. She describes it thus: It begins and ends with a single subject line that is 7 syllables. It has ‘a hat and boots’, mono-rhymed couplets that lead you into and out of the subject with a 9 syllable count. At the heart of it is a mono-rhymed 4 line quatrain with an 11 syllable count.
Human dreams
Floating so freely
In slipstream
Of visions
To shape new reality
From heavenly cream
From this swirling world of chaos in my mind,
I must fly away to some place of peace,
With imagination unfurled, my chains unbind,
Where heroes make my wars to cease.
And here Beauty will kiss once again my tears,
As outflows needed comfort and love,
To take away all of my frustrations and fears,
To dance in the sunlight shining above.
For only a little while in this place can I stay,
As reality eagerly waits in the wings,
And yet this world of mine will not go away,
Nor will soon flee the song I will sing.
Eyes that do not lie, bold and gracious, both young and old
That hold me bound, hypnotically drowned in flowing love
From above all the wreckage of the world with a message
Of peace, goodwill, and much joy to fill my soul to fullness
In goodness as well, even as I kiss eyes that spy my heart
From the courts of heaven made real in such lovely appeal
That seals my destiny while singing songs of greatest cheer
Eyes that do not lie, bold and gracious, both old and young,
I have only begun to fall into your emerald-colored ocean
Where you hold me bound and drowning in your love . . .
Note: Although mine is different in tone and tenor, thank you goes out to Varnika Jain and her poem, “The Eyes Do Deceive,” for inspiring my own verses on eyes, which I have always loved and considered “windows to the soul.”
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