Ciphers III.

From the Poetry Collection Enigma Part IV

Enigma is a poetry collection and should be read in the following order: Acrostics, Notes to My Neighbor, Ciphers I, Ciphers II, Ciphers III.

Photo by Sean Kowal on Unsplash

This poetic skill is all but forgotten
Is not its soul my inspiration’s begotten?
The words are born in passion’s flame
Only for you they are to blame
Way of Desperation’s anguished, wailing nexus
I know our heart’s pumping plexus
Know that the same Spirit directs us

Is this the way I want you?
It is for this play I long to
For your lips, dancing on my neck
Love that crashes in a sinking body’s wreck
Or burning in fleshes fire
Is this love or is it desire?
It is both I hope in you
For us in boiling passion’s brew
Woe, my heart is scorched in blue

The singer sings of a soul born below*
Poets recite how ageless vexes of the sexes grow
Have I just mimicked them like parrot’s play?
Vanished with the Classic Day?
Or have I devised a deeper plan-
Await my moment to make my stand
To unveil my soul and marvel everyone
Die in my ego’s exploding sun!

Lost is the purpose of the writer’s bent
Is it not a corpse to the grave that’s sent?
Their final nail, “I write for me and me alone.”
Words cannot in a single soul be grown
Lost is the thought that writing is living
Is not this all for your deceiving!
Their funeral is in procession,
Lie as they fall in their decision

Art of this word is just for you,
In this manner the Spirit is most true
Verse is the curse for its truest love
It’s a faith like that of the Dove
A faith that God is Love
Wretched is the fear that bars all but few,
Curse of the Poet is the heart that’s true

Writing is our spirits connection,
For with it I toil for your detection
You alone I toil for,
She who breeds this timeless war
Who will stand and bar the way?
Hates are growing in men who cannot say,
To you I give this song today,
Read in it my heart that’s given way.”

This is the hand of the child playing in paint,
Engraves the page, anointing it like a saint
The man who stops and plucks a daisy
Tomb of a friend in the sun that’s hazy
With your kiss upon my cheek
The day is strong even if my heart is weak
Curse on the poet who is lost in rhyme!
To you I say it is the biggest waste of time
Heed the words, “Love is just another crime”

Verse for you I find myself inscribing
Is it not the drift of the spirit I am reciting?
The voice speaks to me, its soul providing
Hearse for the Poet who thinks he has meaning
It’s all for my soul’s relieving!
Act I. Scene I. we find ourselves in this tale,
A man is lost on anger’s trail,
Suicide floats across the river floor,
Deed of a friend who’s lost his private war

Writing late into the midnight hours
For you, this dedication is blooming flowers!
You who spawns my deepest elation,
Is this the sum of all my creation?
Total of all my inspiration?
Futility is my soul’s depreciation

This must be my opus
Energy spent with divine purpose
I can think of nothing more supreme
Exert and work for your soul to gleam!
This is all perfectly devised for your conception,
Thought’s possession, affection’s perception,
Virility raging in my heart’s deception

Thought of the night sleeping with you
Time revolving slowly, blissfully through,
Love that blankets us in silent embrace,
Just to wake, to kiss your tiny face!
Wasted! My faith works to maintain
Exertion for this dream to remain

Poetry is calling,
To you it’s wailing,
You for whom it’s hailing,
Is there any more affection than what I write now?
Meaningless is all deception except right now
Diversion for the author is lost here and now

Is this not the strongest that any soul expounds?
It is by far my strongest script profound
Not a one shall match this devotion while I’m living,
The Poet’s not, singers not, the artists all deceiving
Perfect looking neither, imperfect persons nor
Ironic, cryptic, or any other simple actors,
End of the scene, this play is beyond any detractors

Dead are the poets and writers of lore
Are we not immortal forevermore?
The Soul of the Word lives on,
Words are nothing when the Spirit’s gone
With this heart I inlay this inscription,
Love is the elixir, the immortal prescription
I pour the deepest draft for my soul to sate,
Send you my love and patiently wait.


*In reference to Dazed and Confused (1969) performed by Led Zeppelin/Jimmy Page, inspired by Jake Holmes Dazed and Confused (1967).