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Celeste Butler-Mendez Poem
What underhanded monkey business
razzle-dazzle bull is this?
Whose double-crossing, flimflam scam,
debauchery or hocus sham
is wheeling dealing in romance,
putting lovers in a trance?
Antics, capers or witch's brew,
enchanting hymns or shaman's stew,
whose quackery or voodoo drink
made Casanova stop and think
and turned the ancient lovers cold;
poor Romeo and nymphs of old?
Perhaps black magic's potent gel,
or craftiness or wicked spell,
a clever con or master hoax,
or just some trickster playing jokes.
Whatever ruse that works the arts,
mumbo jumbo seduces hearts!
Copyright © Celeste Butler-Mendez | Year Posted 2008
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Celeste Butler-Mendez Poem
The lonely Echo lives in caves,
doomed to repeat her voice.
How sad it is she cannot speak,
but this was not by choice.
Once long ago in wooded hills,
gods cursed her chatty tongue
so she could only say again
words spoken or those sung.
She fell in love with Narcissus;
a love he would deny,
for she could only parallel
his words as her reply.
He denounced the woodland beauty.
She cursed his naked soul.
Now he could only love himself
and never hearts he stole.
From that time on she hid herself
in deep sequestered dells.
Her fading form has turned to rock.
Her voice is all that dwells.
If you hear the ghost of Echo,
the phantom of the air
and your last words repeat themselves,
you've found the maiden's lair!
Copyright © Celeste Butler-Mendez | Year Posted 2008
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Celeste Butler-Mendez Poem
Beneath the glowing satellite,
a path for lovers grew.
So I set off and followed it
in hopes to find love too.
I wandered down meandrous roads
that twisted and crisscrossed,
but could not find love anywhere,
that wayward feeling, lost.
The light that once in music rose
faded and suddenly
bedimmed the tracks and hid the way,
at least it did for me.
What of the orb that's sung about
mysterious and praised,
if it can hardly shed or keep
that light for lovers raised?
Perhaps the moon drifts here and there
as broken hearts will do,
finding it hard to stay afloat
because it's lonely too.
I wonder if that mystic sphere
will light the path and when
or if in fact there really is
a way to love again.
Copyright © Celeste Butler-Mendez | Year Posted 2008
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Celeste Butler-Mendez Poem
A breeze that once lay cool in morn,
is face of death as dark was born.
On pebbled beach and under guise,
from sea to shore destroyed broad wise.
Great sullen wind awoke this night
and made old oak tree tremble fright.
Though might in years, he stood and shook
for death wind sought and life it took.
In churches huddled in the mass
we prayed the Lord would let it pass
and so He did and had it done
so weathered storms would see the sun.
Copyright © Celeste Butler-Mendez | Year Posted 2008
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Celeste Butler-Mendez Poem
Peering out my bedroom window,
alarm clock's beeping time away.
although the hour's ticking on
time has stopped; forever gone...
a burning torch has lit the sky
field mice toil through cedar pine
a parrot tidies up her nest
hatchlings clamor at her breast.
In my mind, I've drifted off
to places where "old" time can't go.
I daydream here and stay a spell
however long, I could not tell...
enshrouded in a cloud of dust,
streetlamps warm sand flies.
rain clouds slip behind the moon.
tree frogs croak in tune.
I can't remember where I went
or how long I'd been gone.
but here, I'll linger knowing I'm
just fond of wasting time...
Copyright © Celeste Butler-Mendez | Year Posted 2009
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Celeste Butler-Mendez Poem
she looks on earth with joyless eye
beneath her light, the lonely cry
and so I'll pluck her from the sky
happis crappis, alakazam
eye of newt and elephant yam
a conjured spell on mystic sphere
I'll tug my ear and call her near
then pluck the moon out of the sky
by strange magic or hocus trick
I’ll tempt her with a wand or stick
out of the sky, out of the sky
I'll pluck the moon out of the sky
companionless before the day
still in her mist, the hopeful pray
then watch her slowly fade away
abracadabra, witches' brew
compel her light to cast askew
will her to pleasure, not give pain
so I ordain; by morning, wane
her loveless light shall fade away
her pale shadow will end the show
then wait the dawn, her fleeting glow
will fade away, will fade away
her loveless light will fade away.
Copyright © Celeste Butler-Mendez | Year Posted 2009
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Celeste Butler-Mendez Poem
Remorse, he knocked at man's front door,
a proud and somber beggar
and asked if he could speak to us
of hatefulness and guile.
"What say you, Sir?" We asked Remorse
with curious concern.
"I've come to bend the hearts of man
and promise soon that I'll
wage war against your ancient foes;
Indifference and Disdain
to bring you back to empathy
and fellowship and kind.
Against the ghosts, he fought but lost;
accursed the useless war.
The fallen warrior was dead!
Then on his corpse - we dined,
but sinful gluttony soon left
the taste of bitter shame,
and we began to realize then
Remorse and all he gave.
His broken spirit once suppressed
has stirred in human kind.
Now all that we can do for him
is weep upon his grave.
Copyright © Celeste Butler-Mendez | Year Posted 2009
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Celeste Butler-Mendez Poem
Against the sea or ocean tide,
with poetry and pen allied,
I found the water muse inspires
every word the hand requires.
How winsome is her rustic art
that from recesses of the heart,
bring well-established syllables
and the flow of countless ripples?
By gaping river's open mouth,
she'll end the wordlessness of drought
and as the poets' voice is heard,
she'll sail on his dramatic word
then drift into those wordless streams
on metered verse and rhyming schemes
until each one who ever wrote
has cast their work of art afloat!
Copyright © Celeste Butler-Mendez | Year Posted 2009
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Celeste Butler-Mendez Poem
He must have done some horrid thing,
so vile I bet and frightening
because it's hard to fathom why
we shut him in to never fly,
or feel the wind against his wings,
or why the caged bird ever sings!
A sight to see at any age;
this captive beast inside a cage!
Perhaps we think by some degree
he's better off alone than free.
Or if, by chance, we think humane
that he should never feel the rain,
but life of pain and one of scars
behind the cruelty of bars!
Amusement rests not on a stage,
but in some tiny, prison cage!
What if our human lives were one
that never felt the summer sun,
or saw the moon, or chased a breeze,
or fell in love, or glanced the seas?
We take for granted little things
like why the caged bird ever sings!
A sight to see at any age;
this captive beast inside a cage!
Copyright © Celeste Butler-Mendez | Year Posted 2009
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Celeste Butler-Mendez Poem
I was jealous of her looks and splendor,
taking over my bed so gracefully.
To her strange charm, yes, men would surrender.
In thought, I wished her life, but secretly.
She climbed upon him as he was sleeping.
Perhaps she thought she'd found her next appeal.
Enchanted, I watched as she went creeping
upon my husband! What would they reveal?
Feeling her touch upon him would he wake
to see her there atop him face to face?
I wondered should I stay or silence break.
Wasn't long after, they in arm embrace,
that husband, half asleep, but with some charm
gently blew the spider from his arm.
Copyright © Celeste Butler-Mendez | Year Posted 2008
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