Best Baneful Poems
Oh baneful yellow Moon in fullest rounded sphere,
Bright as Summers Buttercups in abundant yield,
Coldly riveted upon Winters beaten, thin silvered panels;
Thereof: By ye mighty hammer doth great thoth wield!
For what fearful trowel gouged out thine far flung valleys
Whilst piling high upon yon monstrous heights?
Wherest, scattering the bare pebbles, a ghostly sower
Coursing across vast cratered plains under Selenian moonlights.
Here once didst thou swelling tides ever invade long vanished shores
Dragged upon by some dwindling, exploded, far distant star;
An atmosphere girdling, warming and nurturing -
Torn from this barren rock and cast way out afar!
Eternally ostracized and deviled, adorned in black swirling robes;
Drifting angular grains heaped - raked by hot solar winds;
Your desolate kingdoms lit in all seasons under heavenly lanterns;
Worshiped and foully cursed upon: for any amount - and all manner of sins.
And ere did erstwhile lovers that ever come forth on bended knee,
To traverse the pale beams that twist about the crooked stiles,
Pledge well intended oaths beneath high, impossible windows:
Their grandly draped balconies and balustrades bathed in luminosities wiles.
When across the recorded centuries of histories misted-veiled years,
from the quill of the old sage, from the high lilt of the bard,
Your pensive countenance disaffected and of a cheerless tilt -
Hanging upon sharply crested vestiges of reckless disregard!
Dark energy spreads ink across the universe,
dripping scarlet liquid fated by black magic.
As the wheels spin poets' necromantic verse,
dark energy spreads ink across the universe,
and trumpeting angels’ mighty blasts rehearse.
The baneful sonnets doom driven by tragic.
Dark energy spreads ink across the universe,
dripping scarlet liquid fated by black magic.
Dark energy spreads ink across the universe,
As the wheels spin poets' necromantic verse,
and trumpeting angels’ mighty blasts rehearse.
The baneful sonnets doom driven by tragic,
dripping scarlet liquid fated by black magic.
Disk dim damning polemics prosing perverse.
Baneful Invitations
by Odin Roark
With so many invitations offered
He often graciously refused
Even as the ones he accepted
Colored him wary of power’s enticement
Seldom did he recognize the shadows
So caught in the obvious seduction
That cloak of safety
Forever capable of disguise
By allure’s chameleon
Into the years of light’s duplicity
The darkness that strove to rule
He wandered
Bereft of judgment
So unakin to wisdom’s path
Until
Worn sandals of search
Became unneeded
As the rutted paths
Washed out roads
Mapped futures
Disappeared
Such became his epiphany
That becoming one with
The nymph of his freedom-quest
Life’s tenacity
Like his own
Found solace from solicitation
Reclining amidst the tundra of austerity
Where honesty
Not manipulation
Integrity
Not duplicity
Flowered his blanket of comfort
Requests became gossamer
As his view from on high
Amidst fragrances sublime
Blinded eyesight’s temptation
Deafened hearing’s regret
Lifted the sense of being
Outside the once enticing prison
He could but gaze with wonder
Down there
Amidst the throngs
Invitations continued multiplying
Just as acceptance
Continued gorging itself
Traces of the masterful
impregnable prepubescent wall
still extant scads of decades since
complex edifice erected to force tall
permanently leaving me unmoored,
marooned, and furloughed ready for pall
bearers to spill soil upon my
then emaciated stick figure overall,
an unlovely bag of bones
stripped of flesh,
sans unseen deadly parasites,
who valiantly tried to mothball,
and nearly succeeded, kneaded,
and deeded landfall,
when aghast parents
at wits end betiding,
halting, and ramming ace kickball
player with serious
game of life and death,
the latter cleated toehold
unanimous decision to install
topnotch scorer anticipating
seeing his name plaque mounted
within glass encasement within guildhall,
faintly hearing inaudible teammates
praised showered, visited
head upon one, with grit and gall,
who clinched championship
wrathful excoriation against me
referee could not forestall,
who fumbled, kindled (as predicted)
loose tongues flaying hide with no rescue
to escape being skewered behind eight ball,
thus the above "FAKE"
metaphor merely to accentuate
self repudiation delivering
to this defacto scapegoat
bullies taunts endlessly berate
ting, jackknifing, and resulting
with implacable self hate
deferrening allowance,
asper my grant (migrant)
humph...pariah status
to learn social skills quite late,
and apathetically to marry and mate
despite ambivalence within my pate
even now...the entombed fortress prison wall,
I cannot obliterate
hence... no surprise WALLS - I HATE!
Recreated for this new era
I stand high with all mockery laid to rest
Obtained by these doings
I shut my eyes never to see
those once colors again
This forsaken truth now brought to the table
Your last tear has hit the floor
and now you have stepped off up from your knees
Take your final view out these sad windows,
beyond this prejudice
a new light appears in pure sight
Left at gasp for another breath,
overturned by this moment in time
I will return only to smile
The guilty left dead at the shoreline
I shut my eyes never to see
those once colors again
Two crows spoke indigo black
One to the other at the graveside bleak
Sharing the begotten woe as they did clack
Perched over the fading epitaph did speak
In the sorrowful caws of the death knell toll
Sharing the begotten woe
Two crows did sing a weary dark song
Their saturnine shadows cast dire with dread
Mocking deathly hallows in their grim throng
Querulous by the gravestones of death's head
Screeching each souls name under the baneful moon
Ghastly cawing their clamorous tune
October 2, 2019
Rewritten from "The Crow's Lament"
May 23, 2020