Category Archives: Sonnet

Boo to Buddha by Aleister Crowley

Psychedelic_painting_8_by_psychedel

Boo to Buddha

So it is eighteen years,
Helena, since we met!
A season so endears,
Nor you nor I forget
The fresh young faces that once clove
In that most fiery dawn of love.

We wandered to and fro,
Who knew not how to woo,
Those eighteen years ago,
Sweetheart, when I and you
Exchanged high vows in heaven’s sight
That scarce survived a summer’s night.

What scourge smote from the stars
What madness from the moon?
That night we broke the bars
Was quintessential June,
When you and I beneath the trees
Bartered our bold virginities.

Eighteen -years, months, or hours?
Time is a tyrant’s toy!
Eternal are the flowers!
We are but girl and boy
Yet -since love leapt as swift to-night
As it had never left the light!

For fiercer from the South
Still flames your cruel hair,
And Trojan Helen’s mouth
Still not so ripe and rare
As Helena’s -nor love nor youth
So leaps with lust or thrills with truth.

Helena, still we hold
Flesh firmer, still we mix
Black hair with hair as gold.
Life has but served to fix
Our hearts; love lingers on the tongue,
And who loves once is always young.

The stars are still the same;
The changeful moon endures;
Come without fear or shame,
And draw my mouth to yours!
Youth fails, however flesh be fain;
Manhood and womanhood attain.

Life is a string of pearls,
And you the first I strung.
You left -first flower of girls! –
Life lyric on my tongue,
An indefatigable dance,
An inexhaustible romance!

Blush of love’s dawn, bright bud
That bloomed for my delight,
First blossom of my blood,
Burn in that blood to-night!
Helena, Helena, fiercely fresh,
Your flesh flies fervent to my flesh.

What sage can dare impugn
Man’s immortality?
Our godhead swims, immune
From death and destiny.
Ignored the bubble in the flow
Of love eighteen short years ago!

Time -I embrace all time
As my arm rings your waist.
Space -you surpass, sublime,
As, taking me, we taste
Omnipotence, sense slaying sense,
Soul slaying soul, omniscience.

by Aleister Crowley

April 2013

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Pan’s Flute

pan_childwall

Pan’s Flute

Come, come with me
To a far away land
Close to the sweet blue sea
Encompassed with white glittery sand
Come to peace, come to joy
Leave your family, leave your home
Enter a life bedazzled by a toy
Perfected with each blow, a smooth tone

Follow me into the hill
Do not fear nature’s wrath
No doom awaits the Piper’s will
A master of the devil’s craft
He seeks to enlighten those with reason
Charming melodies synthesizing the sounds in your mind
Shifting the moods like the changing seasons
The intellect knows no limit in the bounties it may find

Carry on, come along
Open up your ears to the words of my song
I know a way to ease the feeling of pain
Raising you back on your feet once again
Come through the bustling grove
Open your eyes to the new mode
Keep on going, desert me not
For now I’m here, and I’m all you got

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj
April 10, 2013

Flip Off the Switch

Image

Flip Off the Switch

 

A long time it has been,

Since my belly sank down;

Purging the alcohol all around –

Ceasing my master’s mercy; deep in sin.

Lord knows I’ll be dead soon.

Drinking myself to sleep,

Haunting the hood as a creep

Never to rise earlier than noon.

 

A wretched fool I am; reckless.

Mother thinks I’m dead,

Father wants me gone.

Perchance, in me will awaken a change; selfless.

Abandoning addiction; I’ll have sobriety, instead.

Flip off the switch, and turn the light on.

 

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj

February 24, 2013

The Fate of Pontus

achilles

Being a fan of classical Greek poetry I composed my own poetic story based on the style of the Greek classics. Reminiscing about the tales of Achilles and Hector, Perseus and Hercules, I tried to create my own mythical hero, along with a story that shared elements of a fable, minus the animals. I’d really appreciate viewers’ feedback on this. Thanks.

 

The Fate of Pontus

Long ago, along the hills of Olympus

Lived a man by the name of Pontus

Well-built and handsome, he indulged in bliss

A hedonist, he seized the day kiss by kiss

Until the call of duty rang,

Carrying him away from home, the muses sang

As the winds blew his ship closer to his demise

He recalled the sorrow and despair he saw in his mother’s eyes

She said to him, “Oh my son, live by the sword, die by the sword; surrender to love, reign in love.”

Pontus held back his tears as he glared at the sun above

The gentle words had touched his heart, but it was too late

For a warrior must answer the call, regardless of his fate

The brave Pontus stood long in contemplation

Fearing nothing but dishonor and his men’s annihilation

‘O Apollo, God of Truth, guide me to victory,

Keep my feet firm, and my heart steadfast

The cunning master fought long and hard on the foreign field

Slaying his enemies before him, using his sword as a shield

He knew no defeat. Such a word did not exist for him,

For he’d rather confide in Ares, stricken with sin

Then die a dishonorable death

For the mighty Pontus, every move he made ensured his next breath

When the battle had been won,

He was awarded with the fairest maiden of the land

Blessed with the gods’ pleasure they showered him with fortunes of every brand

Taking what was rightfully his, he gave his men the remaining portion

Then on a cold night, inspired by the calling of the prophets

He loaded his horse and left the camp, abandoning all his valor

Leaving his men ravaged in war with agony and squalor

For without his presence none knew what to do

They wondered where this legend disappeared to.

Perhaps he was taken by the gods, out of jealousy,

Or maybe he had been seized by his enemies.

Theorizing was all his men could rely on

For their master was not dead, but assuredly gone.

He tarried to a faraway land, as the wind directed

Seeking a treasure his newly awakened senses detected

His passions took him to the land of the ice and snow

Where the men shot arrows from their bow

As they rode rambunctiously on the backs of black horses

These men had no fear; Pontus took to the nomads’ courses

And adopted their ways

Eating dried cow meat after hunting for days

Mating with the women the clansmen offered

Earning a sense of belonging, forgetting the pain he once suffered

What had become of that fate his mother foretold?

Death in the midst of battle; instead, he fled so that he may get old

Peace was now residing deep in the confines of his heart

The product of ending one chapter of a story only to write a new start

But then blew the wind one wicked and wild night

The gods never forget when it’s time to blow out the light

The chariots of fire came to seize Pontus, his time was in question

Falling rapidly, the sand of time had finally caught up with him

There was still time for him to the change the road he was on

And he needed to have met his ends before he would be forever gone

Apollo called;

Ares called;

Athena guided,

As Zeus decided

The fate of a wide-eyed warrior

Turned starry-skied worrier

‘Where am I supposed to be?’

Asked the man riding across the sea

In an aquamarine enclave accompanied by voracious beasts

Eagerly awaiting his reception at the holiest of Pagan feasts

When Pontus reached his destination the Master of Olympus

Laughed at the warrior-wanderer

Marauding the depths of his consciousness

In his hand Zeus held a staff of immortal forgiveness

‘What learned ye from these travels into the wilderness?’

Asked the King of Kings as the muse continued to sing

The mind is a plethora of vibrating thoughts that roam around and ring

A man finds who he truly is when he stops to hear

The music that the earth plays as if it we’re loud and clear

Learning that no lesson is taught too late

For as long as we have life, so too is death of our fate

 

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj

March 12, 2013

Peace of Mind

peace-train

Peace of Mind

Coming out of the gates

Opening up all the doors

I’m feeling fine and great

Seeking love from whores

Who offer temporary pleasure

Morality dies, but where’s my treasure?

 

Sophisticated and imbued in simplicity

Most of my depression is in sobriety

All I ask for is a good time, explicitly

Refusing to become another victim of society

Blissfully living in ecstatically expounded serenation

Dying to go on tripping in self-intoxication

 

Other may disagree with me when I say

We must learn to give up the fight and reign in love

But I pray for the day that hate fades away

Disintegrating into ashes flying to the sky above

Unifying all our spirits, rectifying the sins of the deceased

Gaining a peace of mind, one that cannot be bought or leased

 

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj

March 7, 2013

Nothing, But Her, is Eternal

beauty

The poem that I will be posting tonight was written based on the conventions of the Shakespearean sonnet. In keeping with this style of romantic poetry-writing, I felt like writing about a girl I like. As Edgar Allan Poe said, “there is nothing more poetical than the death of a beautiful woman.” Though the girl isn’t dead, thank God, our relationship didn’t workout. Hence the name, Nothing, But Her, is Eternal.

 

Nothing, But Her, is Eternal

Before I met her,

Life had been void of meaning.

Now, her beauty makes it better.

Captivated, she stares at me leaning,

 

With eyes as sharp as a knife.

My soul she slices into pieces,

A never-ending strife.

She has my heart; though my love she leases.

 

Nothing, but her, is eternal.

My reality is but an evanescent insanity.

My suffering is forever internal,

Gloomily verifying all of her vanity.

 

Today, I refuse to walk away;

Better to maintain and remain for yet another day.

 

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj

February 26, 2013