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Modern Romanticism

The aspect of romance, divided between the heartening and the thoughtful.

Words of Wisdom – “To Lose, Means to Win” – Political Philosophy – 10/5/2019

October 5, 2019
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“The human commodity has long been thought of as the norm in today’s time, and so, once again, I ask, ‘What has changed?’ Nothing has changed. The ‘appearance’ is very much the prime focus for a 21st century, because all we change are appearances. To ‘lose the wallet’ has become identical to the ‘loss of a child’. We are afraid to lose. And so, we make everyone the winner. Such has also been the mindset to the current age. With everyone the winner, everyone is successful. It is in that mindset of success that survival becomes necessary. Materialism is, therefore, the necessity that centers itself within survival. Humanity and love become secondary in this regard. Through survival, there is no selflessness, unless there is prosperity somewhere on the wind.”

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Words of Wisdom – “A Cold Belief in Nihilism” – Philosophy – 9/16/2019

September 16, 2019
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“How can we be ruled by a reign that would believe in Nihilism, the philosophy of negligence? How can we be ruled by Nihilism, a nothingness, to show a society how a nothingness translates only to loss; and still, such believers are yet comforted by their trinkets? Nihilists have wealth, is it not so? If so, then we even deny the meaning of Nihilism, as circular as that sounds. To be Nihilistic, is to face poverty with open arms, as though the leaving of opulence, is a way to show faith upon newness. To be Nihilistic, is to have lost, and to never win. And so, in what world, in that world where we say no one is allowed to lose, to be said to have lost, is there a war between poverty and love? It is a war between Heaven and Hell, a confusion that results in itself, its existence, its meaning, upon Earth.”

Poem – “Raining Blue Irises” – Romance – 9/9/2019

September 9, 2019
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Yellow daffodils,
In raining glory from sun’s holy rays,
Are there to eclipse the rain,
Of truest blue,
To spill forth sadness onto my skin,
From wherever pain breeds,
In a nest, in a heart
,
In a place where is shelved all that is kept.

Of all your beauty,
Where plays the music of a throbbing heart,
Where comes the torment of a woeful mind,
I am there to witness:
With arms alike the crystalline forms
In a shell-less cave,
So such water may come melting,
From where your tears come descending.

There, I see two nostrils, closely clinging,
To the breathy long trail of petals,
Towards the nearest valley.
It is where blue has turned into green,
And steel has turned into iron,
It is where a mouth echoes a scream,
And life has bent itself towards cremation.
I am upon where your eyes have moved.

Longing is both sides to our destiny.
A face, that is one for sorrow,

And another, bred for temptation.
We deal in a God’s delusion,
He, who mocks the tears coming loosely,
From your streaming eyes,
And I know who is left to adore,
While comprehending who to abhor.

Poem – “Brightest Lips and Starkest Curves” – Romance – 8/29/2019

August 29, 2019
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In all my imagining,
While haunting memory is the music

To my mind in its longing,
I find myself to view a painting
That shows the curves of a naked woman,
While her lips are reddened
By the blood offered in my hands.
Would I reach to kiss?

I desire the wine, next,
For a mask is only a shape
To what has gaped my wounded spirit,
As I rely on awakening to push myself,
From the cruelest sleep.
Winter drenches me in her family
Of white bone and frailest tone,
As I have found your seat to be empty.

Pull me closer,
To what makes you shiver.
I promise, by what little strength
I still possess, to make you comforted.
I am in love with a promise,
As I adore the curves to a woman,
As I dream of kissing sweetest kisses,
Upon sweetest lips.

Sing to me,
Your song of wailing pain.
Reveal your sorrow,
As I reveal mine in this dim light,
Of a remaining winter.
I fail, when I have been brought down,
To be beside you, in a grave of soil,
As all angels, we’ll soar, nevertheless.

Poem – “The Unforgiving Rope” – Romance – 8/22/2019

August 22, 2019
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Dragged at my feet,
Is the unforgiving rope.
Binding me, and blinding me,
Because I cannot stand,
And so I need aid,
To be able to see,
All that I have corrupted for me,
Beyond the grief from the sea.

You would deny me all?
Reach into me, to see sweetness,
And then know bitterness?
I have a heart that has stopped,
I reach my hands to the sky
So that I may pull you down.
I only wish to unite,
With one weeping angel.

A rope at my feet,
And one at my neck.
A knife at my ribs,
And one that shreds my heart.
Deny me the gift,
To see the passion of a man,
Who shall lock lips,
With one angel of sentiment.

There are memories still too deep,
To unearth from stones atop,
Where they’ve been buried.
I bury to forget,
I have buried your body.
I look up to see,
What may be peering down,
Upon my swollen eyes.

Upon the cross, I am nude,
A wailing man, and so crude.

Poem – “From Love to Rust” – Romance – 8/22/2019

August 22, 2019
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I cripple myself,
In horrid wings formed of bleak feathers,
And I have pleasured myself in sadness,
For it was a bottle I drunk from,
That had your bitter tears.

I found love awaiting me,
And drew joy close to me.
Love was stilled, as a heart, buried in dust,
A milk-white breast glided past a heart,
The Devil in me had awoken.

I nested her beauty in a chamber of ice,
And made music from plucking each heart-string.
Death, and its music of somber notes,
Fell upon my ears, and laid there,
Death was my token to realization.

I am a mere man of nothing true to be harbored,
To be expressed, upon sheets with pen in hand.
I have a face that is bruised,
As I deal in the business of drunkenness.
Misery has always been my mate.

Feel the Nihilism crawling gently
And closing its jaws about my neck.
I am a man of nothing comprised to make love a truth,
What I have undone to fail,
As she sleeps between two fallen stones.

Two nails and two pillars,
That have closed shut a coffin.

Words of Wisdom – “When Men Weep over Love” – 8/20/2019

August 20, 2019
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“There’s a strangulation upon a man’s throat, during when it comes to gain. It is his instinct to compensate for any loss. He will break when everything precious has been lost. Do people wish to know a man who weeps? Then, look to the 300,000 homeless Veterans across the United States. Such Veterans were once men, as soldiers in war, and now having lost everything, they weep. The last thing such men will lose are those tears.”

Poem – “I Beg to be Differed” – 8/18/2019

August 18, 2019
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I neglect truth, wherever it stands,
Plead for difference, wherever it lands,
And make myself whole, through indifference,
I beg to be differed, in manhood and resplendence.
For I am weak by your side,
With eyes that drop to a finger
That is your own,
Gleaming with a ring.

Wherever the world rotates,
I am not there.
Wherever kisses are offered,
I am not shared,
With them,
And I am alone, with a thought,
As my only company –
It says, “Your failing is a disgrace.”

I bleed for eternity to comprehend a woman,
Herself, the heart, too deeply buried.
I reach, and take nothing
But the air, and the scent of a long-faded distance.
Love has left itself blind on my cheeks,
Formed as lips, though that moment
Never occurred, was never given, and never was a memory.
She has only ever been a phantom.

Bleed with me, and all that makes you ethereal,
You are more-so the God, than ever I’ve been.
I am nude, and you are clothed,
I am no longer beautiful, with stretched scars.
I am a man with a face, that is deformed.
And more dead than you’ve ever been.

Poem – “The Flesh that now Guards Me” – Romance

August 7, 2019
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When upon the time in a distant romance,
When love once guarded her form,
When a frame had guarded a painting,
When my arms had guarded truth,
I knew for once in my life,
That my home is not this home;
It is the space in her heart,
And upon a face, where quivers an aching smile,
I would die to know her, again,
And make beauty remember me for the while.

Death has shaped her space,
A black heart has now formed tendrils,

Corruption has made its presence,
Am I still in love, or have I made death?
When modesty once placed itself about her,
As the love I made to guard her,
It was always a remembrance,
It was always a field of achievement,
It held a texture alike to those cheeks,
The ones I kissed adoringly.

My beauty, make we weep,
Beneath the moon of the evening melting
Of its silver coloring, in where I repeat,
“Make we weep! Beloved, make me weep.”

I breathe dust now over your shoulders,
And find merriment only among petals,
Where your tresses caught the air.

Flesh now guards my skeleton, and I’ve grown old,
Like the robes loose about the monk,
Like the hair loose about a woman,
Like the tears loose about the eyes,
Like the serpent coiling about the lie.

Love, with a breast I cup in one hand,
And your face in the other,
Would you rise if I kissed the mouth,
That said we weren’t worth the long road?

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