Aionios Charis

By Danny Metcalfe

Metcalfe weaves rich, earthy imagery with vast dreams of the cosmos. He explores the inner through the outer, provoking visions of eternity, gracefully leading the reader through the edge of the solar system into the infinite abyss and back into the depths of the ocean bed. Love is emphatically explored with a youthful twist on an aged soul. Pure word trickery at its finest.

A spiritual autobiography of colorful passions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: May 7, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504937399

Danny Metcalfe

Addictively charismatic, magnetic, touched by the gods. The angels are on his side. Hedonistic, wildly rebellious, and gifted. To look at him, you would think him to be more a rock star than modern-day poet. Who speaks of eternal love and the immortal destiny of a fallen angel. A translator for the poetry that already flows freely throughout the stories of life. At school, Danny was considered overeducated and underdressed and was asked to leave on that account. His art teacher once described his work as “poor,” to which he replied, “My heart is in a poor state of being. It may be poor, but at least it is truth.” He continues to explore this truth, challenging the core beliefs of our media-obsessed hearts with musings upon the essence of eternal love. He seeks an antidote to the indifference of modern connection. He seeks, above all, true love. Distinct themes of divine femininity, innate aesthetic knowledge, and the beauty of capturing the infinite essence of a moment underpin his writing. He talks of the gods because he walks with them. As do we all. Women astound and delight him. Ladies, he will seduce you with endless stanzas about your smile and the curve of your hip. Gentlemen, he will teach you the importance of pedestals and undying worship.

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© 2015 Danny Metcalfe. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/30/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-3740-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-3739-9 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

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.

Contents

The City of Midsummer Night

Visions of Childhood

The Marching Kingdom

The Moon’s Fame, Child of the Sun

The Mystic Tide

O Beauty!

The Blue Grapes

The Fool of Paradise

The Sun and Sea

In the Midspring Pond

On the Eve of Enlightenment

Words of the Sun Rising

Royal

The Art of Divine

The Flushing Rose

Chimes

Stars of Eros

Matilda in Red

The Fair Lady Grace

Don Juan Waltz

Mermaid in White

Kings

Belle

Eternity’s Feathers

Sailing on Green Waters

Dead to the World

The Beauties

Cupcakes in Autumn

A Poem While on Mushrooms and Cannabis

Youth in Exile

1824

Above Midnight

Diamonds

A Summer’s Dream

Midsummer’s Eve

God and Angels

Proserpine

Dying Lady in the Morning

Voyage

Namaste

To the American Rose

Shy Star

Ghosts of Eden

Grand Flower

Sun City

A Saint in the Grave

Everywhere

A Sleepy Flower

Ave

O She the Beautiful

In Evenings Past

The First Spirits

Holy Sensation

Mad with Kisses

Poem at Night

Birthday Supermarket

Death Said to Life

Dying Lady in the Night

Aine

Seasons of Time

Hera

Swans in the Sky

Turan

Astghik

Swans and Grapes

Seasons

A Walk to the Churchyard on a Winter’s Night

I Stood in the Muffled Dawn

The Third Stone

Piano Tune

Dead Flowers by the Sea

The Truth Be Turning in the Heart’s Reflection

Lagniappe

Visum

Holy Saint, Holy

Dream Venus

Bird, High

Through the Veil

Go, Gautama, Go

Dream Poem

Before Daylight

Breathless

Nighttime Colours

Morning Farewell

On the Eve of Light

The Sun Has Stained the Night

Explosions in the Cemetery

Sylph

Day after Day

At Night in the Eastern Light

Sweet Is the Crowned Sun

I Shall Greet You with Pale Fire

Saint August

Saint Universe

Time

June Butterfly

Indigo Poem

Saintly Cries and Unknown Pleasures

A Shaken Dove

Glimpses in the Night

Romance in the East

Flowers in Her Footprints

Night

Strange

My Heart Is Asleep and Lightly Dead

Meditating in Winter

She Dances

Anemone

A Song Asleep

Hathor

Prende

In the Morning, I Shall Tend to the Garden

Swallow’s Nest

Maybe I Am Not Part of That Gentle Air

Across the Meadow

Wanderer

Moon Tide

Fountains at Breakfast

A Murmur of Infant Angels Longing in Bright Eyes

Sleeping on a Shoreless Neptune

Delirium

And the Clocks Chime the Ghostly Hoard

Sleeping Dreams at Noon

Winter Serenade

A Woman Haunts Me

Moon in Winter

In Sullen Love

Angels in the Dawn

I Seek That Woman

Sleep Ballad

Owl-Eyed in Heaven’s Womb

In the October Wind

Tears of the Awakened Child

Bluebird

What Has Become of My Autumn Leaves?

Aionios

Tales of Eternal Youth

A Stranger

A Song of Flowering Mystique

Antique Parade

Upon My Heavy Heart

First Light

Purple Grass

Winter Valley

Sunflowers in Winter

Valley Music

Nocturne

Wasteland of the Sea

Salutation

Beginning

From Sleep, I Awoke

Butterfly Season

Evening on the Moon

First Winter

Under Rose Stars

My Heart Has Wept

Violet Dream

Letter

Junket

Tears

Aeon

Bohemian

White Blood

Weeping Heart

For Those Who Travel Far

Vigor

Evening

House on Blue Hill

Green Morning

Efflorescence

I Killed Myself That Night

Silver-Tongued Whore

Elevations

Conflate

Child of the Dyad Moon

Pale Woman

Morning

My Beautiful Drunkard

Lady Sweetheart Lingers On

Pulchritude

The Stiff Parade

The Nightingale

Nightly Delights

Dawn Prayer

The Spring Moon

Alchemy

Paradise Witch

Naked Angel

Eastern Poem

Lament

Orchid Flower Blue

Starry Heat

The Sea

Shy Star (Continued)

To my family and loved ones and to my eternal reflection.

‘My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that, and I intend to end up there.’—Rumi

‘She’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, hers and mine are the same.’—Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

The most beautiful thing I ever saw was a woman, and in her eyes, there was the whole universe opening up to me. Looking into thine idol’s eyes, I was struck by the force of nature from which I have not recovered, and because I was fearful of such feelings, shame on me. Beautiful is the world for seeing thy spirit’s truth.

The City of Midsummer Night

Into the forest! The great wood! The city of midsummer night! Heavenflowers of starry night amid the moon towards the holy spring sea. The precious river where the fairies sing the joyful stars

and glow in the fire of ghosts.

As soon as the sun rises in the splendour of music, I rise above the trees in the rainbow dreams and the angels sleeping in flowerbeds, who, wise and loving, confess your dear

heart.

Dreams arise in the ancient shrubbery, where the child of poems gives light to the

towers of earth,

blessing the sky with the hymn of angels.

Visions of Childhood

I was born in the warm tears of pale light in blushing magic. The sensation of birth!

Touching the sky with my arms around the sun, with brothers and sisters of visionary affection! My thoughts in the infinite delight of beautiful existence coloured by soft wishes and royal laughter. My eyes lazy in the sky gazing down, high in the clouds of wise music. Humming the love of grace and, in the land of sleepless air of starflowers, smelling of fresh July, feasting on queens and kings and the crown of all glory.

The Marching Kingdom

The beasts of the midnight shade, deepening

in the tearless night, where hearts are opened and skulled. You must be dreaming!

Lust and anger in the mist! The blue eyes of my age! Sins inflamed on my damned

soul! The bloody Sabbath in clear view, pure and drunken,

towards the marching kingdom.

My spirit on fire!

The nest

of poor innocence, where the

moonlight

is a mystery.

The Moon’s Fame, Child of the Sun

My foot set forth into the birthday laughter,

with the noise of spring dark and death by the fire

and the sleeping pool beckoning webbed knocking above,

the rainy smoke sailing and brimming with

the October sun. In the house,

flocked with rosy praise and their raging arms towering over the

magic snow, turning in

true joy, burning brightly,

the moon’s fame, child of the sun, the golden blood in their light,

moves among the trees in emerald robes,

where the dead possess magic

and bare their grace in sight of heart.

The Mystic Tide

I shiver before the dawn, and all the seasons point to the same melody, born of the stars, washed upon the mystic tide.

The angels and young mothers flatter the gods and the sunset white as gold, holy! Holy as eve—the eve of artists who treasure the sea, wide as love.

In the bed of saints of green and blue and the white ebbing tide in the image of slumber, I hear the

art of midnight—

the splashing of words!—

in the folly of the womb, painting the sunlight

from sea to sea.

O Beauty!

O beauty! Our words in the moon and with affection and spirit, my heart

warm as the wind,

we walk hand in hand in the heavenly amber, and the birds of joy listen to our

wisdom of thought,

soaring into the hearing of grassy winter.

Reborn!

The dawn singing new love!

Ah!

The vibrations of earth!

You have discovered yourself!

O beauty!

The Blue Grapes

I praise her. The blue grapes in the sigh of her mind, fleeing towards the bright wine and

often God, ever passionate, awakening the beginning of education,

the fruits of the universe,

and every creature here, there, and everywhere, and passionately life blossoms

into a flower blooming, blooming life, intoxicating the pleasure, the efforts of the flesh,

the spirit seeking nothing but itself and all human hope in the heart of hearts and

the mind uttering and dreaming the fruits of nature, the master of love! The age of love! Ageless joy!

The history of the world on the tip of my tongue!

The Fool of Paradise

If only I had Venus! O love! The youth of swooning days. There, in visible beauty, the mortal clowns laughing with the white heat of the sky, the gift of the stars,

the friendship of the soul, and you become king of your chamber, O Athena!

Dream in flowers! O dreamy land! Shining. Shining. The colour of the rich light, the anguish of the land, unknown, where life is