Tag: Poetry

The Scent of Grief

Don’t die, for the lingering sigh,
In harmony, of shadows old.

As I saw your face, of white,
With folds, of skin, among iron,
Death had painted Hell, on a frown,
For my nose, to cling, to its scent.

What would Heaven offer, if Death denied her form?
God, who stalks the bramble, of empty skies.

I am loth, in beginning to toil,
In merciless, unfurling of grief.

You had hair, which tossed beneath, your eyes,
A frail face, of listless beauty, drowned by sorrow.

Where spiders crawl, on a grave,
And snakes, devour a carcass,
In your arms, I knew of Love.
In my soul, I knew of Hatred.

I gave God, his desired Beauty.
Where salvation, would bring, an eternity.
Though the rivers, were formless,
My tears streamed, in endless currents.

Next to my beloved, who lays mangled,
I notice an arm, which clings to your heart,
That heart, which lays bare,
A heart of love, not shared.

The Heavens Wept for Her

Never let, Heaven hear,
The great mockery, of my fruit,
I was thoughtless, yet here you are,
To bare the nakedness, of my suit.

The reckless approach, to danger,
My uncertainties, begone!
Never broken, never saved.
Never, but beloved, to the brave.

You wilted, as to my own,
Brethren, of my hope,
Abandoned, with my chalice,
Of frozen bitterness.

Unfurl the wicked remarks, of death,
Disgust, for the crude,
Burdened with grief, mothered by love,
Anguished, by God’s vanity.

The Great Frame of Love

Stillness evokes, the bitter strife,
Winter trees, tore off this life.
Lisette wore a mask, to conceal,
The terrors of love, to reveal.
She echoed a panic, of pain,
Within forests bleak, by shame.

I wandered, the terrible night,
Exploring Lisette, in bitter blight.
Some tune rung, from the trees,
Receiving, my crying pleas.
I questioned, “What dost God lack?
Behind the gale, or frozen black?”

Lisette, whom I sincerely praised,
With a cold distress, gently raised.
She, who rivaled, holy grounds,
Prepared to meet, above mounds.
Frozen brook near, tethered by fear,
I spoke once more, for Lisette’s lore.

She spoke, with winter as silence.
“Oh, pity you! Shall you enter.
Into kind domain, still withered,
Cometh colors of eyes weathered!”
Lisette, curves of fingers slender,
Gave forest night, its blackened light.

Her Angelic Sombrous Place

The great art of her grace, knows not of the poor,
Now to crawl, along the sands,
To the rocks, upon the shore.

In simplicity, of revulsions,
There was joy, in her eyes,
One, who cared, for nothing more,
‘Cept, for an echoed cry.

For this, I had given her place,
Within my poor certain heart.

Of, my meager desires,
She offered, no surprise,
By the voice, that carried,
Her, through the earth.

She stole the fragrance, from blossoms,
As England breathed, its farewells.

She knew, of my own trials,
Through which, I only longed.

These were, the very contemplations,
That spoke, for empty years.

Yet, as I mingled stains,
With my soul, of winter,
To which, I now bequeath,
A word, of praise.

“I was the one, you craved,
The empty shell, you saved.
Neither one, could forge the tune,
That played below, the forest’s moon.
Nor could we, share the soil,
That will pull, our bodies down,
Let up, the one within,
My soul, which I opened.”

The great art of her grace, knows not of the poor,
Now to crawl, along the sands,
To the rocks, upon the shore.

While Her Heart Beats

You were the woman, who awoke, among strangeness,
Death, had divided your territory; life, had conquered you.
Beauty nestled itself, in the fragrance, of your neck,
Love crept upwards, to your lips, and laid kisses, deep.

In the strangeness, of my strength,
That which, would not wane,
All beauty, I tore, with bare hands,
Blood rose, to meet, my nostrils,
An enemy, I made, of myself,
Now bowing, to dine, upon hell.

I loved, with the music, of murder, and the torment, of guilt,
Death was the treat, of my sadistic art,
And the pill, that gave me pleasure.

I see with eyes, so bright,
A being, pale, and cold.
I melt into, the taste, of skin,
And fall upward, to a rising spirit.

Pain laid gently, on my conscience,
Soon to feel, for the next union,
Of another heart, that beat slowly, no more.

The Senseless Belonging

She sought, for an empire,
I sought, for her desire.
My weakness fled, the numbered rocks,
By finding her tangled, in locks.

To mourn love, by fallen, endeavors,
One somber love, I had held, forever.
Near to, the icy river,
That flows the beauty’s giver.

She sought, for an empire,
I sought, for her desire.
My weakness fled, the numbered rocks,
By finding her tangled, in locks.

Such tresses, that were many,
Fought through sadness, plenty.
She gave wickedness, to a hand,
Near this shore, in this frozen land.

These stones, I had observed,
Swelled the failures, to blur.
To drink the nectar, free from wine,
Her blood-red horror, sweet as mine.

The tempest began, to languish,
In currents, of withered wishes.
Near to me, to question longing,
Dreams for she, senseless belonging.

I obeyed, your courted blessings,
They, that played, for ornate yearnings.

All Beauty Falls without its Protection

We had loved, without glimpses, to our present,
Allowing its gift, to surge, through our hearts,
We had called upon, love to swell,
Dancing on shores, where waters collected.

I do love thee, with all the flames, of my heart,
I love thy beauty, with all the light, that flickers.

I leave thee, to roam, among the planet’s edge,
I leave, for the music, of my soul, has lifted,
To new heights, beyond thee.

I gave thee ground, to tread,
To see this empire, as meager, as soiled,
But to pity me, is to find emptiness,
You’d find it greater, than what I’d built.

In drawing upon beauty, a blade of skin,
Marking myself, my name, into your silk,
In conquering thee, I gave plentiful graces,
To the sea, and to the sky, my domain.

You are loved, no longer.
My beauty, my pain, my shame.

Utter demises, and utter bliss,
Therefore, to walk alone, is my wish.

A Spread of Darkness Across Her Lips

What had dominated white?
It was black, that dominated white.
It was the universe, that shrouded the moon.
It was the universe, that shrouded the sun.
Bombarded my guilt, to deadness.
And I grieved, no more.

When Mary, came to nurse,
A tree, by the lake,
I saw, with feeble eyes, and feeble heart,
A darkness, across lips, to kiss.
And she struck me, with a gaze!
Made me forget, my woes.
I danced akin, to the harlot’s motion,
When beauty, nestles only on black.

What had dominated white?
It was black, that dominated white.
It was the universe, that shrouded the moon.
It was the universe, that shrouded the sun.
Bombarded my guilt, to deadness.
And I grieved, no more.

Oh, Mary. By the well, where you dwelled,
Made to suffer, made for hell.
Your absence, was the darkness, of me,
As I turned, in Christ’s direction, to plea.
A sickness, reveled in me,
Drunken on curses, that sickened thee.
Mary with pleasures, thwarted,
Mary with children, bloodied,
Mary with jewels, become rotted,
Mary with misery, remembered.

The Music of Memory

Winter drained itself, upon my knees,
In holding the cross, to your grave.
I saw, with feeble stare,
The stars, upon your eyes.

They that saw, the infinity, in our love,
And knew, it to be a lie.
I would only fight, to see tomorrow,
And now, I cradle death, in transparent arms.
In a moment, that knows, how to weep,
I sing a song, to grieve.

Blessings told by priests, and their hymns, of loudness,
As if to awaken, the dead, from their slumber.
I drew white, around white,
A sheet, about a body,
While a rose, stood atop, your crown,
A nest, of tresses, shows the hue, of ice.

A tear falls, from my cheek, to my chin,
I left it there, for my kin to see,
And for my kin, to salvage.

We Breathed the Deep

Oh, the evergreen,
Was beside the deep,
How She rose from blue,
To dance with the sun.

Oh, crescent moon,
Whose shape remains,
How Mary blessed Mars,
To roam with the vast.

Oh, roaring fire,
From the widest shore,
How simply it sparks,
To laugh with the lone.

Oh, caring mother,
With paleness of flesh,
How children cling on,
To shout with the strong.

Petals Laid in Tears

With glances, of blue,
Skin, of ivory,
You shall wear, a crown,
Dressed, in simplicity.

You mourned, the frozen wastes,
With tranquil beliefs, that shaped worlds,
I knew, the ending, to your plight,
But saw, only my life, in twists.

There is beauty, in every love,
With statues, cast from marble,
Risen, towards the emerald,
In forests, of secret safety.

With the illusion, that dips a leaf,
Adorned with petals, and thorns,
Into the silk, of a woman’s breast,
I find the essences, of worship…

…and those, that destroy,
Shall break, the evening tide.

With glances, of blue,
Skin, of ivory,
You shall wear, a crown,
Dressed, in simplicity.

There were moments, that were holy,
The meager silence, that sought,
To poison, the fruit above us,
Rained discolored wine, instead.

The joys, that lovers, hold dear,
Are naught, but ashes and snow.
Soft, with blessings, of sadness,
Departure, for the listless.

If I wished, for the nothing,
My love, shall grow, anew.

The Naked Viewing

Violet skin, when blushing bright.
Take all to sin, in desperate flight.
Send the priests, fleeing,
All full in hands, to the night.

What would I name, my empire,
Where this David, flies to fire?
To be handsome, or to be cruel,
You’d tease also, of love’s kind rule.

In ample markings, I observe,
The simple art, of highest curves.
What wickedness! In breasts.
Wine for lips, in bitter taste.
Allow, of the listless rest.
In one finger’s, lawful haste.

When noticing, the toes below,
To walk, in untold steps, so slow.
I am allowed, to fill my glass,
By all which flows, into thy mass.

Violet skin, when blushing bright.
Take all to sin, in desperate flight.
Send the priests, fleeing,
All full in hands, to the night.

When thy belly, of palest moon,
Is sweet in seed, in dismal bloom,
There shall come, to lovely sweat,
A shell of love’s, beauty kept.

In contours, I count, each falling tress,
To meager face, of sheer failing youth,
Uncover, each bit, of nestling skin,
In hearing shame, from weary red mouth.

To grip, the waist, of thy body,
Shall be there, for my possession,
To the deep place, of my pity,
Had we sold, our cries to ashes.