Basilisks Poems | Examples


The Hostile Whorls

I 

king of the hostile quasar ! 
stelliferous beast without origin 

anechoic void-crown usurper of the throne without end 
upon a tundra in the cosmic septentrional : 
fantastically obscure to the naked human eye 
and shrouded in the asterism of shadows ! 

gatekeepers of the GN-z11 realm, 
amethyst-fanged beasts of the farthest space 
pursuing from beyond the ultimate meridian 
to battle the flame-born basilisks of Alpha Scorpii

the star-beasts battle in constellatory theatre,
a timeless outing of the yet another 
anniversary cosmic implosion

        II 

hostile whorls in the night-sky
spin into mass hypnotic effect

cruor of celestial bodies splatter
alizarin spasms across the death-black vista 
which emanates across the heliosphere
as hallucination becomes reality becomes hallucination

   lines between 
   cosmophobia  and cosmonoia 
   are blurred

mystical systems of glyphic code
etched into bedrocks as star-maps 
guide the madman into liminal states 
between this and the great obscure other
Categories: basilisks, angst, dark, fantasy,
Form: Free verse

The Lake That Ate Me

I Almost drowned,
which is to say,
I fell upwards into a darkness
that contained no earth or sky.

Ten years old and a strong swimmer,
but that lake only buoyed up
its own natatory denizens, 
it allowed some to swim,
some to glide, dip or delve,
but it consumes skinny 10-year-old kids;
that being the cloud spawn of an alien shore,
must be dragged down and chewed, 
like the pale moons reflection.

The muddy waters are one creature,
a sucking swirl, a single stomach,
it throttles, it snags with cuffing weeds, 
clogs with the intestines
of convulsive ghosts. 

I am drowning,
then they pierce that lusus naturae
with a long pole thrust from a skiff;
yank me out of its crushing press
like bait from a basilisks reeking maw.

Years later I still awake
from that heaving ‘lac sombre’,
an infection of the imagination
I’ve been harboring parasitically 
inside the moil of engulfing dreams.

Perhaps incongruously, 
it takes some time before I will enter rooms
with too high a ceiling.
Categories: basilisks, poetry,
Form: Blank verse


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