Bride to Your Light

In my vision, I saw Nature again, my Lord
I saw Nature at her beginning singing her
song opening up my ears with the sounds
of branches, waters, breezes and bees
And Life everywhere springing from this
brown and green, lush and harsh earth

Nature, I know her eternal trap:
Strong by beauty, humble by silence, She
waits for us to start again and again in
our immense obeying to Your universal goal.

Your indiscernible Love makes a furtive call
“I am Here” and suddenly I’m rounded
by the swarming scent of sweet boxwood and .
everything swells and cracks with a slight noise,
Resin in the sun; The wind, at the top of the trees,
All Nature is of Himself, You, the God, myself the
slight Bride to Your Light, Your hands steady on my
shoulders, this healthy and chaste passion,
My body and soul, a nest to carry the living
Among this whirlwind of seeds and swarms,
Nature need not allow charnel, straying evil
Yet You, great King, add the mixture of acrid
acid lustings among the spring leaven;
the desire for a more divine love
than human delusion can repair

©Ionwhite

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Our primitive hours.

Who could decipher this silent night?
her numbered stars brilliant and secret
the monotonous sweetness, her unique color
the vast, absolute borderless hieroglyphical
glow of her, an eternal and mystical monument,

Peaceful night always caught between air and death.
Peaceful night, energy torrents of light flowing
over rocks emanating her cold and sad perfumes
of existence and, us, in our cellared earth, parting
pale and grave, souls of days and their spirits

Our primitive hours serving as distant reminders
to our worried desires so defiant in daylight;
In the day we are pensive even solemn, but it’s
grave and glorious night where the scented spaces
swirl around us, and I want to trace my name
on your white stele and meditate upon you
inside the frozen heart of night.

©Ionwhite

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Freyja’s tear

The purple channels flowing down
edges of dreams, these frozen hours
captured behind the nocturnal lens.

You, stalking among the river lacings’
drowning in torpor, inside the
forest’s dampling and engorged

This blood that flows from sacrificial nights,
these, the edges of dreams, these frozen hours
lived behind the lightened lens of God’s eye.

There, the trancing of the empyrean river,
in the forest of wetting memories’ filling
ethers of the heavens, we would still
feel the excited fluttering beneath our eyelids

This dream had to end.
Don’t think I didn’t know
about the tears

©Ionwhite

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Cassandra Complex

It’s me, Cassandra.
And here is my city covered in embers.
And here is my staff, my prophet’s ribbons.
And here is my head full of uncertainty.

That’s right, I triumph.
The fire of my reason licks the sky.
Only the prophets that no one believes
Enjoy such shows;
Only those who got it wrong
So that everything happens as quickly
As if they hadn’t existed.

I remember now, distinctly those
who before me, stopped listening.
Their laughs choking.
Minds unraveling.
Children running towards their mothers.
I didn’t even know their names.
And this my song written on the sands
No one bothered to sing it

I was right.
But then, nothing comes of it.
And here is my blouse charred by fire.
And here is my prophetess hardware.
And here is my stony face.
A face that didn’t know it could be beautiful.

©Ionwhite

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libertas est aeternitas

I long for God’s breath upon
my freezing skin, through that
expensive kiss my desires are curbed
I even hear the shadows crossing
the face of my dismissing muse:

He says: ” The gods fall through the god,
But the lovers blossom through the goddess. –
Praise to the daughter! “

His spear glistening – the sun passing
His smile gives light.
And he sees through the rising star,
His Love flies through my heart
Where the song of gold resounds.

My tears fall on the the pearls of heaven
The swaying meadows of silver shiver
When he walks by – And my tears rain
as shifting drops of pearls, my eyes
so blind, my heart so in love

He took me back to life and
Made my body radiant with Life
My fears he banished and my death
is a diamond in his crown

So praise my fate!
I long for the sweet kisses of
God’s breaths, I turn all bitterness
into nectar to offer my beloved

‘Freedom is Eternity,’ He breathes
And I sing an intoxicated song of Light
Because that is really what I wanted
The freedom to rest my head forever..

©Ionwhite

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chakras

And it is this night, the blue night of
a thousand stars when a million holy
evangelicals bending the night softly
but severely, their arcs waving
like sails, pulsing through his beauty
his strong limbs above me while
starlight wings wave angelically

through the matrix of infinite history’s
cold streams running over beds of stone
embalmed in mystery, and cries of prayers
Sometimes lightstreams escaping throwing
off bolts of lightning, in shapes soft in
the distance, covering the climbing hills

My lover moulding the shape of my heart
his fingers like fog smoothing over my
cracked gullies, the earth rising beneath me
lifting me to the sky, turning to catch his kisses
love that is still poorly defined is the very
definition of love Itself, Love as a verb
a virginal love turning erotic Love opening
to first ecstasy forever, together we call out for
the merciful God who will protect us
from all evil, our eyes on the skies where
the fire is rising to a clapping far off thunder
ending in a song of glad blessing and penance

©Ionwhite

Image result for beautiful night sky projection over a lovers bed"

torche de dieu

Do you see him? There
From the high tower with a torch in hand?

What does he say in his deep, tender voice?
The torch falling from his outstretched hand,
‘Oh, I will be the One who will create your god!
The fires howling around me, rising flames
a huge quarreling of red eagles flying through
the black and swirling smoke and wind

The god melts gold that flows around my
marble body, a blazing splendor and ardor
silken short shivers bursting and all the
the dying demons sing to the flaming
having understood that he is the One; he
is my god; my cries singing into the air
my hurricane soul rising, resigning

And he, proud god, over me the crossed
arms of a king, his glancing eye opening up the
sky reaching the furnace of all Light
whispering prayers, my own prayerful
Being: Has ever a woman died from singing?

Refusing my sacrifice, he assured me
without difficulty that it was
all just a mischief and artifice used to
strip my pride of its lies.

©Ionwhite

Image result for the handwriting of god en fracais images"
Image result for the handwriting of god en fracais images"

La tristesse durera toujours

Dressed up in silk and gold
Beautiful demons dance,
teenage satans sing a waltz
to the Seven Sins of their five senses.

It’s the feast of the Seven Sins:
how beautiful they are! All
desire shining from their
brutal eyes, appetites sated are the
quickened sand that they harness
with lusts pouring over
their lives like pink wines
into crystal goblets

Dancing rhythms gently interrupted
by the beauty of voiceless men, their
moans unfolding, throbbing like waves
through the cosmos of lust
as the Light that was leaving them,
grew so powerful and charming that
around them all, the countryside of God
was blooming with holy roses and diamonds
in the grass;

In vain the demon party danced
In vain the satans, her brothers and sisters
failed to grab her away from the Light;

She has resisted all hugs, and her sorrow
becomes a black butterfly branded to
her forehead, burning with jewels;

La tristesse durera toujours..

©Ionwhite