Nyx - Ode -
The shadows know the
scent of clove
as Nyx devolves her
her odes address the
inviting so, the
Her darkness strings
her laughter waves
inside the ether,
small hours submit
advancing 'mid the
sage and heather.
The creatures glance
- with eyes of amber
beneath the blinking
while Nyx, the
The blanching moon,
in ventured glory,
embraced by Erebus
unfolds her mane of
She meekly bids to
worlds of blooms,
the mortals on the
bestowing grand the
kiss of death,
with fates to weave
the orchard looms.
deeds and dismal,
with sovereignty she
guides - abysmal,
the chanted souls to
her clouded callings
© G. Venetopoulos,
26-03-2014 - (date
the poem was
© G. Venetopoulos,
Nyx = Night
Paintings of Nyx:
The story on
Nyx ("Night" in
Greek) – Roman (in
Latin): Nox – is the
Greek goddess (or
the night. A shadowy
figure, Nyx stood at
or near the
creation, and was
the mother of other
such as Hypnos
(Sleep) and Thanatos
sparse in surviving
reveal her as a
and beauty. She is
found in the shadows
of the world and
only ever seen in
Pleasures of Moving on Moon
You have always charmed us by your beauty, O Moon,
Sometimes fascinating Heer and Ranjha*, and sometimes,
Mesmerizing Romeo and Juliet.
Sometimes you have spread your charms, on the monuments of Love,
Alluring the beauty of Taj*, in the full moon light of Purnamasi*
O, Moon how many faces of Love and Beauty you have,
When you stroll silently on a snow covered maintain,
The beauty and your grandeur becomes envy for the heaven.
For Poets and Writers you have immense stories and inspirations,
For Lovers you are more precious than gold and diamond,
For singers you are like the soul of their songs,
For Boatman’s, you are their sole companion of their silence and turbulence.
While watching you so intensely from earth,
I felt, as if I was wondering on the silver surface of you O, Moon,
Moving and feeling, no gush of wind,
No moisture of Rains and dryness of Sun,
No falling of leaves, in the season of Autumn,
No bending of rivers, flowing from mountains to oceans
No murmuring of birds while mating and chatting,
No change of seasons to engage my mind and heart,
Still I was fascinating to move on the silver surface of you, O Moon.
Walking on your surface was a strange experience for me O, dear Moon,
As I was trying to feel the unique pleasures of earth,
While moving on your silvr surface, O Moon.
Kanpur India 22nd November 2010
Soon I will post this as My Photo Poem with the Photograph of Moon on my Blog and on face
book, which I took on 22nd Nov. 2010
• Heer and Rangha. The Indian Lovers like Romeo and Juliet
• Purnamasi. The Day as per Indian calendar, when we can see the full Moon.
• Taj. Refers to the world famous Taj Mehal monument of Agra, India.
my angel you are with me
in a way i never knew
just sitting here thinking
and spending time with you
we recall the good times
and lessons that we learned
sneered at the bad times
and hours that they burned
both learning truths
as God helped us to see
a little something about you
a little something about me
we were brought together
it was our destiny
and just like all beautiful stories
ending in tragedy
but only just today
have i found you in my mind
and now something tells me
that you were there all the time
my spirit has accepted
that your body has gone
but everything you did
in my mind lives on
you made me someone
much more than i am
giving me presents and presence
being my biggest fan
i could never win anything
more valued than you
my gift from God
i was given to you too
the chair where you were sitting
beside me so so well
for a while it held an emptiness
a little piece of hell
but i have learned for the good
perhaps in the nick of time
that i can fold your little chair
and put it in my mind
and place it with my treasures
things i've had since i was a boy
with my most treasured memories
horses and toys
This new born day I celebrate your souls release from guilt n’ captivity since that day you
felt a carnal touch of sin within as your hands played poetically upon the curves of your dead
lover’s silken skin…
I know now you made your way to the top of the rocks to plant a tree to guard this sacred
place where I fell from thee n’ you repeated the poetic chant of love’s abandoning to follow
me into our karmic destiny…
On that fateful day your soul bled away at the top of this crest by a solitary juvenile tree,
your body of words fell to the rocks at the base of this cliff, embroidered into the blood of
The one who would hold a feather to her face on this crest by the sea n’ remember finally
the days gone by of you n’ me, our deaths from love’s abandoning when you my love were
lost to this world n’ me for ten centuries…
I now await destiny as we will love forever more with immortal hearts…
Will I Recognize… The Face Of Love?
Or the Wonderful, Bedazzled Appearance of:
A Moon-kist Meadow, Hushed and Dark
A Solitary Silhouette, this Beauty Mark,
Windswept Grasses, like a Babe’s Soft Lashes
Rippling across Earth, that’s smooth as a Cheek.
In the Hushed and Flowery Scented Air…
Your Face of Love Materializes, Silvery, Full
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.
From the Face of Love … Will I Withdraw?
The Face of Love without Any Flaw;
As a Canopy of Clouds with the Splendor of Sunbeams
Piercing past the fluffy powder of Heaven, to Radiate Gleams
A Classical Cameo-Sculpture, Perfect Profile Structure
Yea… in the Bright Beacons, I see Your Smile
In the Illumed, Clear Sky, ‘Your Face’
Can Love’s Face be Touched … Attainable?
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.
The Face of Love … I Have Visualized,
Potent, Breathtaking, The Vision Rised;
From a Sunlit Lake, Winking as Would Diamonds.
Your Face of Love, Emerging from Far Beyond
The Depths of the Lake, as My Heart Quaked,
because of the Wavering Portrait’s Peace
because of Water-Color Caresses.
That Face of Love, was so Tangible.
The Face of Love … so Unforgettable
The Face of Love … has Gazed Upon
Dreams of Mine, the World’s Not Known
… Out of the Woodland’s Emerald Mist
With Drops of Dew, Love’s Face Kissed
The Framing Boughs; My Relaxed Brow.
Floating… Breathing out the Mist of Morn Light
That I may Sketch Your Face of Love, in Life.
The Face … More Handsome, than Sons of the Womb, is Possible…
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable
(For A Medieval-Tongued Poet, I Found Here at The Soup...
Ismael Nieves, this one's for you Kiddo
Mysteries of Human Hairs
Hairs, O’ hairs, O’ lovely ravishing hairs,
Fascinating and beautiful, you often resemble,
When nicely looked after and softly taken care of.
Your beauty and elegance has often inspired,
Your softness and shines have captivated many
To put their hearts on fire,
Your aroma can evoke to extremes,
Passion and lust like streams.
The lustrous beauty of these hairs,
Have raised thousands of wars sacrificing millions,
To win only a Helen of Troy and
Even great warriors like Ceasar and Antony became a prey,
Before the killing magic of your arts and flying colors.
Even the ravishing beauties of these hairs,
Have charmed many eminent enemies and warriors
Besides the millions and millions of moving lovers since ages,
Who fall prey to the loveliness of these alluring hairs.
Your graceful presence, has produced men of letters,
Your locks have killed many, in the history of the world,
While many have altered their existence, completely,
To win, the beauty of your hanging hair locks and curls,
Even the dullness of your hairs too,
Have often inspired many wandering lovers and singers.
Hairs, O’ hairs, O’ lovely ravishing hairs,
When you hang, you look like dark clouds,
Playing on the forehead of a woman,
By watching such clouds many get lost,
In the colors of your showering rains.
Many Writers, poets and artists find their inspirations,
Under the love and softness of you O' hairs and
Many have produced things of beauty and joys forever,
While many have found the goal of their life,
In the beauty of your lustrous curls and colors,
What a strange it is, that still many
Would like and love to get sacrificed,
In the enchanting flames of hairs, like small flies forever.
It is also a hard truth of the world and
Of our human life and air that,
Even some saints too have fallen prey,
Before your enchanting beauty and your alluring colors.
Many mighty kings have lost their crown and kingdoms,
In the ever tempting beauty of your magnetic curls and shines,
To get hold of you, O’ lovely hairs.
Kingdoms have fallen like the house of cards and
Even most powerful men of this earth,
Have lost the edge of their swards,
Before the shining, flying and mesmerizing,
Beauty of a women’s hair and its penetrating charms.
What wealth and gems you hide in your treasure,
Making many men and even women,
Mad, before the lovely ravishing beauty of you, O’ Hairs.
Kanpur India 28th Oct 2010
Edited and rewritten on 28th March 2012
We are the unbegotten
We are the unassigned
Redeemed from oblivion
Kept out of mind
We are the great rotation
Unfolding the sublime
An echo of obliteration
Returning with the tides
Unmarked by boundaries
Before the birth of lines
Inhabiting voided forms
Unrevealed by signs
Dissolving like a vision
Or a phantom of the blind
We are the soon forgotten
In the reckonings of time
Written by © Raven Drake
From a three-sided angle
Astrological purpose is unmangled
Triangle on top
Square on the bottom
Bright halo around God
Our tears fill His bottle
A Pyramid is a monument to death
A Tabernacle of wealth
Which comes into effect
When there's no longer breath
Is it mourning or celebration in stealth
The place where Kings and Queens lay
Buried on a sun-disk
Dedicated to Day
The final form to decay
Hands form this shape
When they're positioned to pray.
Oh Christian girl
oh regal queen
so lost and happy
Oh how can one capture
Your beauty on paper
Without you evaporating
Off as it is your nature
The stars are your jewels
The moon is your crest
As if blessed
Your silence is serenity
That whisper to my thoughts
An overwhelming beauty
That ties my stomach up in knots
How humble I am sound
A beauty incomparable
With a radiance so profound
Your absence is unbearable
Or is he heartless?
I know she doesn't like me at all
I can see it
I can feel it
I know she wants me to fall
To fail in life
To have all the strife
She's been telling wicked things about me
She treats me like something she can't see
She is but a witch
born to give dark colors to the fairytale of my life
She doesn't talk to me
And if she would, it would be in most brutal way
I don't want to look like an enemy
But she's been making me hate her more
I tried my best to make friends with her,
But she closes her door..
I tried to reach and understand
But she wont give me a single chance
Can you please give me an advice on what to do?
I don't want to sin against Heaven, but she's turning me into a devil one.
My anger wont subside, it lasts forever.
And if she remains her stupid attitude
I could get a dagger and stab her up..To kill her is easy
But i won't do that
I may be in the state of hatred but i still have a conscience.
Please reply to this ode for this is a real life situation.
There really is someone i hate so much and her name is Fia
I need your advice. Thanx
On a windswept hill crest by the sea there is a lonely ancient sentient tree that seems so
figuratively familiar to me, I wonder why this can be n’ who my heart longs for when
I’m here n’ why love gives no guarantee…
Though I visit here frequently, today I was summoned, beckoned by the branches of this
solitary tree swaying in the breeze, to this charming yet purgatorial space...
I knelt down upon this strange magical place n' was carried away as my fingers traced an
owl’s feather to my face n’ wondered why I loved n’ despised this fateful place…
My body shivered, internally tingling n’ with grace, some kind of enlightened knowing I could
not erase n' like the sentient tree that cradles you within, I sensed your ethereal embrace…
Silence ends where you begin, I heard the likes of Aeolian sing “Oh my Immortal” n’ your
poetic voice disturbed the chaos in the winds of my mind n’ there within returned the
memory of your handsome androgynous face…
I said… “Come let my hands play upon your skin” n with my thoughts gathering to replay a
scene across time of broken hearts n’ love’s abandoning reflected in the fire of your eyes n’
a touch of a feather upon my face…
I’ll never know your name or how many tears were cried in the oceanic depths of your
pleasure n’ pain, though the salt I can taste in the tempest of this darkening day as the wind
heralds your scent n’ presence unto me…
I’ll never know all who walked hand in hand here before me or where each discarded shell
has been as the seasons flew away, yet I now know why a thousand Halloweens were your
destiny n’ you summoned me to transcend my mortality n’ the meaning of silent words at
play this day…
Our ancient bodies lay together here beyond mortal touch, though in my present existence I
no longer recall our names, they are lost in my many lifetimes yet kept in the Goddess’s
Though no longer you feel my touch or pleasure n’ pain I'll plant a flower as a blessing on
top of our grave, above the waves, where your soul is a slave to this sentient tree cradling
your ashes n’ bones returned to dust…
There are so many ways to say I Love You, however it seems more likely for
people to say
the hurtful words I Hate You.
For so many things to be thankful, still there’s so many
times we may appear ungrateful
Appreciate what’s been given, evolve in a life worth living.
Overcome struggles be
focused continue to stay driven
Do not settle for good enough. Be determined and go through the times of both
and the rough. There’s no reason to be surprised know one ever said that Life
Anyone can achieve their dreams at the highest measure. It’s just a matter of
you work at it even if your starting at the bottom from there things can only get
Weather the storms throw your burdens upon God he will never steer you wrong.
never give you more than you can handle. If it seems overwhelming at times then
know that your strong. Life decisions are split into two parts there should be no
areas. It’s either this is right or this is wrong
Remember your not benefiting anyone by hiding you emotions in the dark. You’ll
hurting yourself eventually it will weigh heavy on your heart. In the long run it will
end up tearing you apart
To be in love can make a world of difference it will change your daily routines
Everyday that passes by you won’t have the mind frame of It’s all about Me
Relationships built around trust are strong. Relationships built around deception
ever last long. Commitment is the key not only with your love but in friendships as
as with your family
People will come in your life people will go. Where you will be in 10 years
really knows. Life’s about the unexpected the passer-by’s the up’s and downs
the bad the times we laugh along with the times we cry. The questions the
times we ask why? The yes’s the no’s the rejections the goals. The beauty the
disappointments the high’s and the lows. The losses the gains the continuous
Life is what you make it out to be Do for others as you would want done for
Don’t involve yourself in life’s mysteries Each person decides their own destiny
have written their own history
Cause and effect is the name of the game. You get what you’ve given therefore
have yourself to blame
Your life’s a novel made of many characters plots climaxes and themes Don’t
opportunities don’t ever give up on your dreams Continue to live life and be
because life isn’t as bad as it sometimes may seem
Consider salve thy lubricating lips,
Can moist sensations kissing them be found
and tender do the grasp of finger tips
dissolve the rich encompass of the ground.
Our explorations further feast on eyes,
prepares the intuition for release,
while magical relations improvise
motions for the while shall not increase.
I need to further venture through the mist
of one who gains momentum having trust,
and this is where I feel we both exist
the treasure trove of having is a must.
We melt where idle passions seem to fix,
are firmly pressed against residing walls
what heaven sent., the dedicated mix,
involvement as we both rejoice to calls.
Encased within our own as souls combine
the journey of a lifetime waiting for
has come and we're parading this divine
contentment is this guise I found before.
Need to have and hold has come to pass,
I fell in love before, it's not the last.
Yet my soul senses the passion n’ desire of your heart was composed in the language of love
unto lust that I could never poetically impart, still I know the flame burns with pleasure n’
pain for all who find it outside their immortal heart…
I sense the reflected fire of your eyes n’ I wish not to recall the unspoken secrets of your
poetry n’ the names lingering here, romancing the waves caressing rocks n’ the chant of
consumable miseries of mortal hearts to rupture into suicide …
I know how your fingertips awakened her virginity when she was your lover in leisure to the
music of your acclivitous words hypnotising her virtuous seventh heaven of sexual overtures
n’ into the depths of clitorious pleasure…
She was one of many who summoned the angels of ecstasy by the priestess of your tongue
that preferred all inamoratas to be kept at distance for their purpose of use was to be your
poetic muse but she was (heavy sigh) your destiny…
When you dared to indite your desires of others with an empty quill upon her naked flesh
remembering still their scent n’ taste, she flared with jealous rage n’ you were vainglorious
for your lovemaking was illustrious as you celebrated far n’ wide…
In her aroused escapade you wished you had braced yourself for her pain as she summoned
the green demons with covetous wings within her mind, for she would have laid down her life
for you, though you did not understand this treasure was a love that was true…
For she longed to be your only lover though your fingers of rhyme teased a tongue to
rhythmically confess your request to crucify her heart in unrequited love n’ her thighs in a
symphony of continuous casual pleasure…
You declined true love for the endless line of carnal lust with debutantes, bridesmaids n’
dames for perfect in everyway to be with you she must, like your poetry symmetrical n’
consummate, a figure of flawless beauty n’ face..
To compose in repose your words in kisses upon a page of thy lover’s lips, the idealised
immaculate perfect place, her face was scared by a trace yet her beauty of heart within was
a gift given by the goddess’s grace…
She had a long thin line down the side of her face though I know this flaw to be upon your
soul, it never left your body n’ mind as they turned to dust, where perfection once prevailed
yet overbalanced without grace for your heart was forged of carnal lust
Your hands n’ your caress traced intimately across a mortal’s flesh a thousand years ago, for
she is a stranger in the dark of my distant karmic past, though I know her serenading
immortal heart sings in this body of mine now…
I refuse to hear your long lost name for I’m afraid to know all those who you loved with such
lust in this place where you linger by your grave, I only wish to see the sweet beautiful
memories of the love we made…
No!!! I refuse to hear my long lost name for I’m afraid to know all those who you loved with
such lust in this place!!! where you transcend your grave, for there is a weaver n’ a loom of
destiny n’ I’ll not repeat that chant ever again by the sea…
From the castle to the crest, to the sea, to the waves crashing on the rocks, a hundred times
the journey from the womb to the grave I have made while you lay in your tomb n’ your
soul yearns in suffering to make amends…
I sense you invite me to listen to your evocation in this prevailing wind, it seduces my skin n’
ascends from the depths of my soul from beginning to end, an eternal poetic essay of an
immortal heart’s legend…
By this ocean of our dreams you tempt me to inhale the perfumed scent though I’ll never
know whose breath it was that I now breathe in as the wind n’ the moon feathers the sea in
Along this coastline the breath of mother earth has nurtured many lovers, lifted angels on
wings n’ called forth mermaids who play n’ sing on the rocks n’ dance in the shadows with
the ghosts of shipwrecked sailors in their watery graves but it’s been a thousand years since
my immortal heart heard a poet...
Today this storm blows across the lands of my ancestors, the siren of your poetic beckoning,
an incantation travelling the sea n’ time heralds the galloping horses thundering, racing upon
the shore with the chariot of your enchantment never faltering…
Their manes dancing towards the crest n’ crash upon the rocks nearby where we made love
a thousand years ago in the soft familiar sand, your poetic voice romancing the sunset n’
painting the waves in glorious tones of carnal lust ...
Within the evening storm clouds I can see the rain though I’ll never know the name of the
lovers whose thirst it quenched with pleasure or who was cleansed of their pain as the blood
washed from the rocks upon opening Pandora’s box in their mind n’ lost sight of hope as
their fateful love turned to dust…
Centripetal force of a
whirling waterbottle, captured in it
the tornado of our youth
and reflecting a goofy smile.
Dare you say centrifugal?
Dare you graze the edge of a sharpened sword?
THE BOOGEYMAN WILL GET YOU-LOOK OUT!!
They have said that to me ever since I was a wee boy
Lurking under the sheets,in the closet,behind one's back
Especially at night when we are susceptible to the vivid
imaginations of our peers' taunting ravings of Unmentionable
crawlers of the dark and fright
I would not sleep with the closet door half open to fill these
frightened pupils of what may hide behind
It would scare me out of my adolescent mind,to know that something
SINISTER would come from the shadows and SCARE me to death from behind
Every little boy or girl would be so sensitive to the Boogeymen stories that their
elders or friends would tell them,how green and deathly evil their eyes can be
when they look back at you.Is it purely imagination or something of a twisted and
macabre sense of humor that our brothers and sisters would like to throw back
at us..for kicks and thrills,Halloween night terrors of unimaginable thrills
When I was younger,the Man with a Forever Grin,would like to ridicule and
terrorize me with his Devil-may-bite smile and assistant ghosties who would play
along for the HELL of it.
I may be a grown man now,my friend,but whenever I pop a HALLOWEEN dvd in
my player,the mind cannot help but recollect the pictures of Night Terrors that
forever go bump in the night where I live..
I hope the same can be said of those same Vile screamers that terrorize us in
the first place..give them a taste of their own WICKED medicine
With out rain what would we do?
What would we drink?
What about food?
Its helps us out
It grows our cotton
So we have something to wear
With out rain what would we do?
Would we walk around naked?
What about you?
That language you speak,
the one you didn’t have to learn from anyone,
the very original, very human, yet very celestial one
The one you spoke to herald your arrival,
as you made entrance, from the celestial to the terrestrial,
into the gyrating life-sustaining starry metropolis,
amidst the cacophony of others, strange and different
That language you spoke,
in response, as you discovered,
that the strange looking beings all around you,
in your new and strange planet, speak it too,
and as you explored the strange and funny artwork,
on their mystical canvases,
every time they spoke your language,
any time they spoke another,
that you did not understand
In smiling, laughing, weeping,
we speak a common language
Have you noticed?
They all speak it too;
all our kin, from every corner,
of our spinning starry metropolis,
waltzing between one companion on the left, bright but shy
and the other on the right, dusty but flamboyant
It is a language so simple,
anyone and everyone speak it and understand it,
yet so complex, it is encompassing;
defying lexical boundaries,
even terrestrial boundaries
Straddling the spectrum of emotions;
even in the laughter expressing joy,
the heart is sorrowful
It is the only language natural to us
We were made with it
It is simple but sufficient,
to convey the emotions,
that bound our consciousness
It is the language of humanity;
the language of pleasure, joy, happiness, and sorrow
Anywhere we come from,
every which way we come,
we speak the same language;
we smile, we laugh, we weep;
in joy and in sorrow
The language reveals,
our common and celestial origin;
our eternal bond,
When spoken, we understand what is said,
we know what is meant,
it is laughter, expressing joy,
it is weeping, expressing sorrow;
the outer limits, spanning our consciousness
So universal is it, it is mystical;
as mystical as our very existence
For the abundance of mirth,
gives birth to tears of joy,
yet joy awaits in tears,
the passing of sorrowful tears
Laughter and weeping,
each awaits the other,
but only to relieve each other
and to bestow us reprieve
It is the universal language,
spoken and understood,
by you, me, and all our kin,
It is the same, regardless of place and position
It is eternal, beyond terrestrial
It is celestial, it is universal
A pair of spectacles
an unsharpened pencil
an eraser, pink, shaped like Tennessee
Which of these is truth?
Answer quickly or fall to hell!
Buddy Cianci! He’s
the people’s mayor!
“That shark! Haha!
Reminds me of my opponents over the years!”
He dances with the old folks!
He kisses the pig!
He poses with the married couple!
He lets no crack appear in his façade
even on the day his lover of nine years
is married in Barbados!
He is impregnable!
Plastered posters up on dividers
laminated and preserved for generations
of students, marching by filing
nameless the years, uncounted
Crisp snow falls on the mountaintop
glorious and regal, the whole
universe gravitates towards him
and he sees it all clearly!
Give it up, give it up everybody
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Joseph the Christ figure giraffe bookmark
wooly resents that penultimate comment
and tells me whut
“ALL NEW MATERIAL. CONFORMS”
Of what does he speak? What madness?
“TO TOY SAFETY REGULATIONS”
The turning phrase!
A thousand old Buddhas stand speechless!
Golden lion tickly softhair
Oh! To have a mane like that
I’ll throw away my razor
Nancy Wilson! Nancy Wilson!
“There’s the Girl” I went after, and
I cannot say that I don’t want her anymore!
She left me “Stranded”! “Things”
a’int what they used to be! “I’m [not] Fine”!
“These Dreams” go on when I close my eyes!
“Will [she] be there (in the morning)”?
yes, she whispers, yes
Ann Wilson, Ann Wilson
the way you sing vowels is
On11- He may be sad, you may not be.
On 14- If it were a detergent, Billy Mays would be a natural!
On 13- His picture will appear soon, and often.
The best books have a little
love in them. Whether it be
a taped spine or a
a forgotten dog-ear or
a few margin-scribbles
a browning of the pages
or perhaps a signature
the more time a book spends
in the company of men
the better it learns how to tug
at their heartstrings.
Crazy physicist! So, you can
put a man on the moon?
Ooh! I have a new problem!
Calculate the trajectory of my soul
as it leaves my body!
An emerald eye is painted on the starry wall
a wink, rogue kiss of the misty eyes
Oh! Your brown eyebrows are so thin,
your love so smooth
crush me into paper, and
glue me to your world
She sits at her mirror brushing her hair, dressed in black velvet with just the right
She puts on her makeup with ever an ease, ready for the night, ready to please.
She picks up her flower and closes the door, its sunset this evening, who could ask for
She walks through the tall grass with a graceful pose, she bends down to lay her perfect
She wipes the tears that fill up her eyes and visions of the past marquis the skies.
He was her love, her dream come true, but God said "now I have to take him from you".
She wanders back home and enters the door, pictures of him scattered all over the floor.
Upstairs she ascends, ready to sleep, with visions of him, she begins to weep.
She lays on the bed, not a sound to be heard, she whispers, "I love you" but he never
utters a word.
Upon the emptied blackboards
chalkdust yet remains,
smeared, the work of a
thousand problems, minds behind each,
even the blue message of a
young lady waving goodbye.
In the corner the voicebox of God
lies silent except at 10:10 every morning
the pledge, the announcements, the moment
of silence, now his muted mouth
frowning silent disapproval.
What does He know of mortal strife?
A shimmering arc of whiteness spreads its
eagle wings, overarching and embracing
the sky, soaring into the sunset
If you were not perfect, I would
run after you, down to the seashore, splashing,
yawping to the tops of heaven till breathless,
“TAKE AWAY MY DESIRES!”
This pen, solid black opaque void
spills out its inky soul for me
so I can decant my own
Thanks, pen, you are Christ Almighty
I will call you Hector
Scratches on the jewel surface
of a black onyx watch
tiny hands tick endlessly around
now seven, now eight, now ten
Can you break the cycle?
Wait, you’re not Nancy Wilson!
You have no Heart!
You’re not even a woman!
Ah, but you are wafting through my radio!
And you are quite clever!
I wish I could have seen you
when you came to Knoxville
Gray scribbles scratched into black desks
the pent-up hatred of a thousand fiery days
J.Y.’s work is lost, but his rage
radiates and multiplies in our quiet moments
Plug it in! Pump it up!
Thin as a razorblade, the device
turn back and look at other lost people
Tiles of remembrance of classes
long past, replacing blankness
painted handprints and colors and smiles
spanning the length of the ceiling, forever
reserved for the posterity of wandering eyes.
How glorious the sunset! Our days unforgotten!