Biography of Monos Unalos
I came upon the rushing dawn
That burst from night as if in song -
A melody of ancient hue
Played by the one who carved the moon -
To drink in the fibers of existence;
Process the notions, and, if persistent
Enough to not lose that bright star
That gave to man his first born awe,
To walk within those mighty clouds
Where beauty, peace and love are shrouds.
Monos Unalos Poems
Hardwired To Oblivion
Alas a grumbling encroaches Exuberantly And electronically From the blinking blare box
My Human Progress
An idea begins to form Like a sky scraper prickling the airs Inside so calm at moments And so utterly strenuous
You magnified disaster of the brain Descending from the justice of the soul, The stern decree of conscience - half the bane - When wed to contemplation seals the whole.
You stone of fire smoldered in the kiln Of conscience, where a blacksmith cranks and storms And crafts for every movement of the will A correspondingly metallic form.
You kernel of apocalypse, you blight, You spider spinning webs of blackest twine; In enervated motion you delight, To taste aborted acts is your design.
Oh mother of all things, design alate, Enlivening the flesh of every form With will, the surging light of mortal fate: The movement on the waters and the storm.
The vault whereto always proceed The robbed of their Reality, By Time revolving in the sky, Revoking the immutate eye.
Strange Old Poem
Quid pro quo; My mind for my words I see that I shall In this life
Subjective Meteorological Irony
The rain clouds have materialized Drowning out the light In soft tapestries of gray and gloom Portent of a green respite.
Mnemosyne The Bane
My mind immediately works At every time creating Images, receded one by one, As the future is present negating.
There is this burning energy Locked within my pores, Pulsing always, never sleeping Regardless if my mind abhors.
Reading the Utne Reader earlier I came across interesting facts: Kites on ships to provide motion, Simple spikes in Darwin’s tracks.
The Full Moon Is The Greatest Poetic Cat...
Heinous memories are calcifying in the brain A past delusion of murdered times And hideous determinations: The winged images married
Ode to the american school, bending branches to fit their mold,
There is this burning energy
Locked within my pores,
Pulsing always, never sleeping
Regardless if my mind abhors.
There is this subtle dignity
In life’s refusal to submit,
For even when I sleep and dream
My body does never remit
In its ceaseless, waking, pumping,