Jiminy Cricket

and there you are, churning the soft earth
where we buried you
with all the dignity
we could muster

Jiminy Cricket wore your shoes for a while,
but your footsteps were too hard to follow —
so he missed a step &
got back on track,
for better or worse

I am sorry you are still lost —
but there is nothing left to say
when all the answers
are ash & bone
& broken, too.

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Inexplicable

sometimes I do not write about
the depth of my grandmother’s gaze,
the texture of wet sand beneath my feet,
or the way people weave through summer rain —

sometimes all I need to write about
is your murderous fart
and my fight for survival.

Where The Wild Roses Grow

Will you not meet me underneath the waves?
‘Cause there I lie; I fear the Shadow’s Son —
who gently sings the Broken to their graves.

I was the bearer of a searing sun —
when you burned bright, burned fiercely in my heart;
burnt to the very core, it mattered none.

They say I loved you from the very start —
and did not see when envy drowned the light;
when boiling storms just tore my heart apart.

Yet, here I float, in seas of darkest night —
soon to be bound to whom my soul enslaves;
the Shadow’s Son, who whispers songs of blight.

I seek the One whose heart the darkness braves…
Will you not meet me underneath the waves?

( Terza Rima Sonnet)

Late

when your soul
dangles
from its socket
by a spliced hair,
it’s the hour of the wolf ~
and death
leaves its rotting breath
upon your cheek.

fear not, my love ~
for you will soon
leave all madness behind.

Touch of the Past (rewritten)

autumn’s gentle touch
veils
mournful paths (i walk),
metamorphoses
tears’ burdensome sting

rows upon rows ~
towering high, majestic
some small,
cracked and bruised
frail and broken

old, they whisper,
venerable,
earthen beds
monuments in time

names, embedded,
moss-accentuated ~
i greet their faces,
honor
the Long Gone
with beating heart
and open mind

oaks’ heavy boughs
pick my thoughts,
extract,
lift with ease, to join
trees’ misty heads ~
as if they weigh nothing

and in their company
i feel comforted,
for they know all ~
smile warmly,
never judge

and in their company
i find
my heart,
my voice,
my sweet solitude.

__________________________________________________
… much gratitude to the Iron Poets. You know who you are.

Charon

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love across a bloody ocean
fateful struggle with the waves
great Charon, please grant us passage!
don’t leave us to mourn at graves

stretched, our hearts; almost to bursting
love across a bloody ocean
ferryman, we beg your mercy;
are you content with our notion?

love, so cruel when lost so sudden,
love, so tender once, so pure
love across a bloody ocean
love – eternal, absent cure.

only time will soothe our heartache
and we crumble, in devotion
held in life and doomed to suffer
love across a bloody ocean.

____________________________________________________________________
Susan Daniels and the Panda of the “Three Nuts and a Squirrel Crew” extended another challenge. This time we are to write a poem using Apostrophe (a figure of speech in which someone absent or dead or something nonhuman is addressed as if it were alive and present and was able to reply), the theme is Saudade (accommodates in one word the haunting desire for a lost love, or for an imaginary, impossible, never-to-be-experienced love), and it must include the line “love across a bloody ocean”.

I decided to address the Ferryman, Charon, directly (but as you can see, he’s a stubborn fella when it gets to whom he lets into his boat). I also felt the need to make a Quatern out of this (cheated only a little), since the provided line consisted of eight syllables… lucky me, I love Quaterns! Heh.

Also linked to dVerse’s OpenLinkNight… come join us at the bar!

photo credits: people.tribe.net

The Face of War

Opposing countrymen drawn to the field
each fighter clenching his gun
soldiers stand, silent and still
sweat beading from the midday sun

lust for battle, as demanded
screeching cold engulfs their hearts
icy stares; warped inner turmoil
and the sanity departs

Weapons raised against their brethren
Silence fills this place of war
Eyes fixed, downward the barrel
Death awaits, victory, and lore

to the call for death and glory
thunder bellows, born from steel
doom engraved in every bullet
forcing lives to bend and kneel

Powder and smoke fill the air
As the charging masses collide
Ground stained, the stench of iron
Fighting to turn the tide

determination; will takes over
bayonets drink up the Red
corpses mingle with the living
victory not far ahead

Flags wrap the fallen bodies
Deafened ears are absent to sound
Farmers that worked the nearby fields
Are gently placed in the ground

lives for justice, lives for freedom
a foundation built on deaths
those who fought will be remembered
those who paid with their last breaths.

___________________________________________________________________
a late night/early morning duet by Adam S. and myself. let’s see if you can find out who wrote which parts…

Calling Dylan Thomas

Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Victoria invited us to try the concept of literary allusion (reference to another literary work). I decided to turn to Dylan Thomas and his wonderful poem ‘And Death Shall Have No Dominion’ today.
This is what I came up with. Enjoy, if you will…
__________________________________________________________________

Dylan Thomas: And Death Shall Have No Dominion

Calling Dylan Thomas

years have passed
your lines
stand tall,
unbent ~
while death
is still
hard on our heels,
scatters lives
and presses on

we fight;
oh how we fight…
to stop the fighting,
to honor your words ~
death still
holds the world
in a death grip,
squeezing; its vivid juices
to evaporate beyond

take your words
and paint them
across the horizon
so we will not forget
your vision;
your rays…
your tendrils of hope.


__________________________________
photo credits: malepicture.blogspot.com

Hope, After All

bound to the grave of
mystery’s debt
glistening tears
of creeping mold
on the freshly stained body;
the sun lingers
to cook up the corpse; lurid
and lift its spirit
to innocent meadows beyond.

Loki’s Punishment

Baldr’s death for all to see
faithful Sigyn hears his plea
Loki has yet to break free

_____________________________
“The serpent drips venom from above him that Sigyn collects into a bowl; however, she must empty the bowl when it is full, and the venom that drips in the meantime causes Loki to writhe in pain, thereby causing earthquakes.”
(taken from Wikipedia)

photo credits: kabroder.tumblr.com

Dawn/Dusk

oh, how i rejoice!
our time now, so near
my vision, so clear…
how i long to hear the sound of your voice.

I am not afraid.
My yearnings, appeased; my hunger, sated;
my thirst, quenched. The last sip of life’s nectar vivid on my tongue, I
bask in the delight it brings and
look back,
no tear hidden in the corner of my eye.

will you know me by heart?
one we have been
your skin under my skin –
we will make our way, soon, we must part.

How much I have seen.
I smile at days past – would I have smiled then? I do
not know… A blur of emotions, experiences; wanting to trade
them
would be a lie. I am my own sculptor; my actions –
my hammer and chisel.

oh, you will always be mine.
my love is so strong,
in my arms you belong
for a lifetime will our bond shine.

I know I must go. We all must go.
While
I wait for the when and how, I write these lines, dip my quill
into life’s ink one last time…
Eventually, I will take off my glasses and lay them to rest – next to my now
empty glass, that once contained
the sweetest and most precious nectar of all.

how long, until we meet?
your movement i feel
my daughter, so real
i look forward to you, ma petite.

… inspired by dVerse‘s wonderful prose/poetry prompt. thanks Anna!