clximeneo

www.instagram.com/c.l.ximeneo

Anecdotes and prose of a gothic writer with a penchant for philosophy.

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  • clximeneo 137w

    Preamble

    What then was left was preamble
    In ashen anamnesis scattered,
    Vestigal cinders, the glowing obsequies
    Plunged in the surfeit black coal
    Aflare beneath the heart's frigid breath,
    Stroke to stoke the impetus song
    On sanguine lips still tinged vermillion
    By the sojourning cannibal's bid.

    C.L. Ximeneo

  • clximeneo 139w

    Belgrave Briars

    Beneath the stars of salience
    Beyond the quandary of contradiction
    A supple survivor heaves a sigh
    Acute her sway on thorn strewn berm
    Noctis florescence on heart contrived
    Nebulous be the brood she burgeons
    Harkening her soul’s cryptic canticle
    Halcyon steepening their every mettle
    Whence under fray’s deep, taloned grip
    Willow roots bled but never stripped.

    -C.L. Ximeneo

  • clximeneo 143w

    Phantasmagoria Blue

    Confounding and claustrophobic
    Turned the welding of succuba with vestal
    Pabulum served for clout of criterion
    Sinking in cashmere on pursuit of clavicle
    Cuspate cheekbone grazing jawline
    Thawing down the neck with tepid gasps
    Levulose the lips for bitter farewells.

    -C.L. Ximeneo

  • clximeneo 143w

    Precious

    O silence! Be not bridle,
    With thy salve,
    Douse amply my two ears,
    Hemorrhaging
    At isochronal barrage of words,
    Opinions unrequired,
    Coating mediocrity in garish mire.
    Prodigal miasma
    Unfastened quick as a waistbelt
    Abaft a temple.
    Binary defilement, withal imbibing,
    Brackish and bitter-
    Like blackened water of a horse trough.

    -C.L. Ximeneo

  • clximeneo 144w

    One of most captivating places I've ever had a chance to visit �� Notre Dame of Paris. What a loss, what a tragedy to see centuries of laborious art set aflame. @writersnetwork #notredame

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    Notre âme en flammes

    Lo! What woe hath seared your chassis, mother
    Under mantle of perdition I yet grieve for thee
    Crumbling ribcage submerged by billowing slate,
    Blackened statue eyes onlook in haunting plea
    For the horned chimera poised atop will watch on peak
    All doth weep ashen tears on crepitating vigil
    Your sweltering spire is a lance set on vermeil blaze
    Plummeting into bosom, seizing on narrow lam
    Outlast this inferno, mère gardien,
    O solemn Dame.

    -C.L. Ximeneo

  • clximeneo 145w

    St. Vitus Dance

    Bristle whirl in the tender trial
    Quietly sired the knee-jerk forthwith
    Careened to the prong of pyrexia
    Truancier at frolic of callow gardens
    In likeness of Lilith raptured
    On far periphery of swelter-skelter
    Glorier of hermetic romanticism
    Veritable only to autoarchic preservation
    Chagrin to the downy droves
    Whom did not febrile into exile's caress
    Long before primeval impasse.

    -C.L. Ximeneo

  • clximeneo 146w

    @writersnetwork The lute will have to slumber once more inside its wooden case...

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    Songs Elapsing

    The time of wine and rouge will wend
    Lured away, by glimpse russet
    Beckoning beyond the mountain crest
    To berth not plagued by emptiness
    Its song elapsed when bed grew cold
    Salient murmurs of aurora in ire
    Hailed crystalline throe of lucid litany

    -C.L. Ximeneo

  • clximeneo 146w

    Saturnine

    Locrian glid down to devil's interval,
    Resounding my timbre
    That blasphemous, wayward voice
    Rippling shudder on spine,
    Prodding the hollow left from nails
    Polished by cavalier cherubs
    Feeding at noblest banquet of vultures
    Despite endowed pristine varnish
    Their ceaseless suckling to grace vanquish
    In the ritual waltz of casuistry.
    Never will they know of callus deep indented
    By the steel bent to my will and wrist
    Strumming over hollow mouth serenading
    Soledad, shrill the pinch harmonic
    On electric bridge carved for umbrage
    Hammering-on a fragile neck until exorcised
    The plea of a voice for the muted.

    -C.L. Ximeneo

  • clximeneo 148w

    Eostre is finally upon us once more ���� @writersnetwork #springequinox #spring #ostara #wicca #wheeloftheyear #rebirth

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    Primavera

    Deserted she, on winter storm's throng
    Subsided beneath sheath of frost,
    Bereft of rouge but never of lithe
    By her tilted head in dire transpose,
    Bowed to floods of never fencesit clouds
    Like a praying martyr preparing
    For an execution so seminal to be endured
    Before the plea of starlight uplifts her
    Bidding the body with tepid rays glimpsing
    Through the wane of purple brume
    Deep into the tomb of Imbolg once more
    To wake the vernal splendor she hid.

    -C.L. Ximeneo

  • clximeneo 150w

    Gnash

    Mandible in tender stir,
    The tremors of truancy ebbing
    With the coals of autumn
    Rituals bathed in incense smoke.
    Oblivion's synthetic solace
    Melting away at a painful pace;
    Cluster of ice trapped
    By the inane clench of your throat.
    Ground teeth will throb
    At young dawning's pallid lambency,
    Yonder lives evaporating
    Like dew on dipping blades of grass
    Except for a lingering sapor
    That invokes longing on the tongue
    Of blistered woebegone.

    -C.L. Ximeneo