April 30, 2025

Patience.Sonnets 11,12 and 13

And to her luciferous and Mephistophelean sibling 
Impatience!
An equivoque,double entendre,a quip, acalembour and a paronomasia of golden hills 
A gangster of highway pirates
Bid voila,bid egad,
A parting shot with purportedly perspicacious cheerios,
An immoderate ciao at your footsteps 
O a leave taking a godspeed at your doorsteps,
Strike that anvil on the adio
And let thy flint like wax not return.
So long as the demanding swan song,
and tedious toodle-oo,
Creases from the kabala and orphism of the trajectory of the vector.
The trajectory of the vector?
The cachexia of the vagrant psychopath 
The Cachet ,the antiutopia and the cacotopia of the imprudence.






Her sibling whisks them into the wastelands.
Swooned by the hallucinations of the logorrhea, hypnosis by verbal and textual,
Casuistry of blarneys,volubilities, immoderate mists of flowing tongues,
Diarrhea of the mouths,gifted garb of logomania
O furor loquendi,better still cacoethes loquendi
Whose wraiths like caballeros,knights on horseback 
Unseat golden wits of rolling mosses 
In their beleaguered thoughts ,
They ponder not on the consequences of witless homeliest
Which could usurp their writs as if whacked by caducity 
In the masonry of prudent rods and medulla sentry
Yet brutish counsel cachinnates with the hypnosis at their pothered ends.
Cackling guffaws spittle a caricature Sometimes,yoked by cardiac infirmities.
Impatience the homewards of the frogs 
and lilliputians .


Tenebrous valleys,frequented by her calefaction,torrid greenhouses,blearier dog days, furious heat waves.
Masoned in a pitch-dark, pitch black,sooty,misty, stygian,somber dusks.
Recklessness desist from her sunless,unlit,atramentous gazebo .
Wince apart thy feet from her overcast, caliginous and obfuscous summer house 
Make it thy haven the monastery of patience.
Homewards of the homeless and wanderlust 
A golden solace from the calidity,febricity, incalescence,thermal reading, pyrexia of impatience ,
Serenades of golden hills littered with the 
Swan songs of apotheosis.
O that you were not your impatient self 
To be creeded by the orthodoxies of the folklores,
Hardly your own prime energy so sweet to semblance of sterling stars
A putsch from the pines of the unholy thrifts.
That you may find impatience with impatience 
And be your moorish reincarnate of prior self's disease.
Which let so much unfairness roast thy aesthetic wallpapers 
When your Sweet fairness your sweet roses 
Should bear in their gilded chambers.













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