Sanctum

James T. Dominicus

Description

Loneliness, Forlorn, Love and God
Poetry for the Broken Hearted By A Lonely Writer
- James T. Dominicus

Sujets

• Forlorn
• God
• Loneliness
• Poetry
• Love

Informations

• Publié par: Balboa Press
• Date de parution: 04 octobre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9798765234952
• Langue: English

Extrait

SANCTUM
JAMES T. DOMINICUS


Copyright © 2022 James T. Dominicus.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
 
Balboa Press
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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
ISBN: 979-8-7652-3494-5 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-7652-3495-2 (e)
 
Balboa Press rev. date:  09/24/2022
Contents
“Grandiose” (the burning chair)
“Nothing”
“Ramona”
“Consequence”
“Great Depression”
“It’s in fifths”
“Vanished”
“Offering”
“Giving”
“100,000 dead men”
“Window”
“Mercedes’ de Acosta”
“Nothing”
“So don’t!”
“Satan”
“Speaking”
“Equation”
“C-Fsharp-Am-E”
“That said”
“Solidified”
“Demon or man”
“Untrue”
“Waiting”
“For today”
“How does it relate”
“Yeah”
“No reward”
“Spirit”
“Angel of death”
“And then”
“Not this time”
“Something backwards”
“Negligent”
“Broken home”
“A chopped poem”
“Just saying”
“Adjacent”
“Borrowed twine”
“A word in doing”
“Ever lust”
“Unfold”
“Better luck”
“Trance”
“Bland on bland”
“That’s right”
“A poem naked”
“Young”
“Response”
“Bereaved”
“Happy Tuesday”
“Allowed”
“Ashes in the bread box”
“On dank”
“Romance”
“What with”
“Untamed”
“Return”
“Writing out of a hollowed gut”
“I say”
“What i gave”
“A giving time”
“Grow wise by the thousand”
“Gold field”
“The miracle in Fatima”
“Suicide”
“Trouble”
“Tether my word”
“Solitude and sin”
“Becoming”
“The devil in misery”
“Mother with grip”
“The birth place of nothing”
“My story”
“Golden afternoon”
“Fantastic and the latter”
“The devil in accord”
“The trouble of”
“Today is dull”
“She beats me to hell”
“Play a little while”
“Escape”
“Deflate”
“Staggered stripes”
“Cast then again”
“I’ll allow”
“The golden faun”
“Another today”
“Future flame”
“Thunder and brightening”
“Juncture”
“The wise”
“Ritual”
“Transcendent sexual”
“Iva’s birthday”
“Collateral”
“Just to say”
“Ungratefull”
“Flower”
“It’s coming”
“Obedience”
“Alone”
“No reason”
“Trouble and desire”
“Going back”
“Ever town”
“In doing”
“For a time”
“What’s amiss”
“Fighting a garbage can”
“Probably”
“House of buttress”
“I extoll”
“Tomorrows grief”
“Another one”
 
About the Author
Poetry and prose by James T. Dominicus

I wrote these poems to lift up and solidify the name of Jesus Christ, king of kings, lord of lords. I returned to the lords walk to find everything good and beautiful. I praise and extoll his name where ever I go, I sit in front at church and raise my hands to my lord. I was wicked, I was nice but not living as I should have, then a change came and I wanted to make what was amiss right. So I came back, after a failed marriage, loosing precious things and feeling like Job I put myself at the foot of the cross. I was a punk rocker, I played shows in bars, drank too much and did stupid things. I painted and only paint my daughter or women. Then I wrote, a brut with no college education words were in me so I gave them away. Being disabled I miss my job, I was a gravedigger. I dug Danny Sixtos grave, he was my friend. It affected me, left me lonely and hurt. Working in a cemetery gave me so much, friends I made, people I care about. Now the days are quiet, alone on a porch I reflect on everything I knew. The things that don’t come back hurt the most. I’ve always had depression, anxiety, agoraphobia and OCD. I was suicidal, I give every day to God that I might find beauty. To play music again for the lord, paint for the lord, write with all my heart for my precious lord. Give everything I can so that my brother and sister be whole. A Gibson Les Paul Classic sits by my bed. I write music all the time. I’m not typical, I’m progressive, classical, Spanish and always punk rock. I do like reggae, I like the feeling of it. So friend, you are not alone, I am your friend always. What you need, what you lack I can give. Just find me, I wait to walk out of the shadow.
I am a reader of Aurthur Rimbaud. Nobody knew words like him. He was beautiful! I love Mercedes de Acosta, she was brilliant. Then 100 years to this day I find some poets that have something special. So write, bring about what hasn’t been said. It’s there, find it!

This book is dedicated to Brandilyn Maree Costa, the only true love I knew. June 29 1979-November 15 2009
“Grandiose” (the burning chair)

Flags that paint my lust
As I grow with words
You want to but you can’t
I am left a blank page
There were no survivors
Just an open sea
I wanted to touch it
Feel it on me
Naked je taimes
I caressed you like a vase
I could send you mystery
I could send incredible things
I prayed on my knees on Tuesday
I pleaded with the lord to make new my words
And so I wrote, today and we begin
So onward I ply
With my lyre a classical taste
The song comes alive and it is for you lord
There is pain and there is might
It is never finished but complete
A big sound dispelled, dirty note rings
The lion walks by and ‘bueno Dias’
I prefer the tigers scraping dirt
The tritone backed off
Single notes that play out passion
No dinner for the dead cow
I passed days with this dream
Evil evocation dispelled
I hear all the instruments in my mind
I know how the song will be built
Because I am, a song in me, all the exterior is nothing
;placate, the song a buttress
;diamond fold, heart strung in E
-dandy lady I can play
What world I am in-the beauty of my lyre I can tell
In the name of that which is holy, amen
With Just a voice, only one that can produce
I’ll raise my praise to the heavens
I’ll sing of your works
I’ll extoll your grandeur with my low tongue
Holy is he beside me
I praise thee and spit my sin
 
;that unfold, dream and Longing be, I am redeemed
 
We sin breathing, flesh and carnal be it may
The blood of the lamb covers me
I walk with regret that should not be mine
I come unto a new day
I placate my passion
I’ll play a new man with grand beauty in the window
A lyre, a woman, trouble that this day I fall
I want to love but a student should be taught
After 45 years I learn
I listen as if searching
That beauty come, the roar be silenced
I play a major then softly ring out minor
That is how it is to be done
 
-fin
“Nothing”

You’re the one I pick
But it is all wrong, there is nothing
Mountains, hills, valley-cant sustain my desire
So as you are, soar and believe
Make merry my somber solitude
Crushing-breathing-placate-hell
I am of flesh that I hate
I want to be spirit, lo my feet walk and my mouth speak
Family in cross trek
Does my wife I do not know please
Voices off the floor go low and hesitate
Ruined a whisper shatters all my hope
Words that heal, whisper so sweet
I wish I could write to something solid
Back in time, my hug that nourished
Ghost through my window
Taking my heart, soul away
Our poem as one
My dream solidified
 
-fin
“Ramona”

I died handsome
Dressed in my death clothes
On a table
I lie without breath
The under taker admires me
For unlawful carnal knowledge
I was super high, I was out of my mind
I didn’t know what I was doing
Outside a motel room smoking
Looking at Broadway, I own this town
Little dogs go in and out of my room
I sip a straw-berRita
Hang out like these days don’t end
Waiting for a chica
Then boom I’m gonna roar
I don’t know what the days hold
I’m a blast to my mind
I just wanna go play my lyre on the stage
Pump out jams like giving birth
The chihuahua knows, the dogs down in the valley
Friends of Rocky, gentle pups
The dog sniffs my chap, scuffles down the stairs
I smiled hard at the dog
My friends then rump and woof
Holed up in this motel
Dreaming of tropical rain
Bags and a package on a whim