Pastimes of a Princess in a Bibliographical Workout - continued
In the palaster of words,
a princess has chased the apes
at the monastery of men insulted, but
arrival has made for her a god
to be waisted, sinn has to be reconsidered
she ain’t alone, causes refilled
with splendour, as quoted by an inner rotation
for the sublime, as a sunshined aboriginal
climbing the whole rooted way, for evolution
has waited to be have sustained the glorious words
And no one believes, she will revive…
through this membership
insurgents, to be wittnessed
in a paramount hight, smoke kindled
food has left her existence
astray the veiled sky
its submittance tressfolded
legs to be on deliverance
twice as long to running inhabitance
love dared to sleep, and sleep insane
the combination of perrault and grimm
baked a sudden roof, and merit was in its
torches floating distantly the skin
to perish in uttered wings
winged while merchandising its goeroe
all the pale symbols, the bleeding
clouds, brought in the same time
back the silence, as mineral locks
in dubious thoughts, insubordination
spreaded a field, a gloom not
to be historiced with the tongue
This very moment the princess has lost
sight but to be redeemed with the sword
in the eleventh arm, she’ll drop her
eyes, and expression will remorse,
curled up at her back, she’ ll be
naked, an inmate of intimate ‘Lares’
so all loved and living,
tell her what to see…
Judith V.
Amsterdam NL - December 14th 2008