Best Tartarus Poems
Freedom ~ an inked kingdom
of macabre mirrors,
a vermiform lie
veiling the vehement suffering
amidst serpent estuaries,
surging within strangled skin,
as if I am the living sin,
jinxed by the crawling creatures
in the lamented labyrinth
of deceitful dreams,
inhaling venomous vapors
rising from the cursed creeks
that failed to caress
the brittle bones of delirious dawn,
where the nocturnal owl
sits, phasing stellar phantoms
on tattered twigs,
oblivious to the piercing pain I breathe,
as poetry feels like
a somatic hallucination,
a reflection of the phoenix crescent,
a dialect the naive can never comprehend,
the voice of truth,
the jaded outline of mortality,
can never interpret~
as the last sacred light of twilight
r e m a i n s
unmarked and lost to the Earth.
O wicked wind beneath
the crestfallen wings
of cruising constellations,
will this piece of paper save me
from the maleficent violets
in the spitfire blaze
of stigmatized stars?
I am stuck ~ hell-bound,
troubled placing my
tongue on Freyja’s chalice of tears,
for I feel oblivion closer than death,
I taste the flames of Tartarus,
I dance with demons,
I sing to the malevolent moon,
I see in distorted dimensions.
But would the ignorant know
I hear beyond what’s spoken,
in search of Eden and love?
I give gratitude to your God,
but the veiled care not~
this is beyond the making
of a self-forged inferno.
I am the harbinger of harmony,
my soul aches
to paint your scarlet spheres
in butterfly bliss,
praying in secret
that the deviant daggers in my spine
would blossom into russet roses,
their petals ~ like an elixir
to my paranoid psyche,
paralyzed in the
catacomb chaos of insanity,
as the scorpion Sun
k i s s e s
me one more time
with sweetened poison.
While you,
the spectators of this twisted spectacle,
condemn my insomniac aura
to stain the essence of my existence
with condescending colors,
unaware that
introspection is a powerful weapon~
all blood is blue,
and we breathe hypocrisy
scrutinizing the unknown....
"The Winter's Lullaby"
Choking noble light held by the hands of Fate
As deceived Persephone enters Hades gate
The burning suns falling through the universe.
Despairing and alone not a coppers worth
A bitter cold blankets Gaia's tears in a frozen sea of glass
While the stupefied intoxicated serpent drowned with a laugh.
Undulating sands barricades into immovable glacier,
Infectious prison walls destroyed the strength of redeeming savior.
Chariot of the flame plunges into the water’s bed
Fate’s tepid scarlet scissor hands sever the music thread
Astaea’s darkened soaked mural melts with eternal dread
Seeing red, alluring sirens sang as the music bled
Unfathomable lamented shrieks surged as the music tore
Obsidian tributaries erodes the forbidden door
Eros scorned wound feeds the ravished horde of succubi
Remote hollow temple bell wailed the closing cry
Captured in the dance of loves and hates tempest cyclone
Drums of madness orchestrates into the perfect tone
The infernal flame explodes from the mouth of Tartarus
Driven oblivion crescendos for the pending chorus
The stentorian cracks of nefarious shots being fired
Frantically gasping for the final breath of faith hope and desire
Tragic petrified tears from soundless screams of the choir
Condemned whisper of the drum crucified on barbed wire
Cold candle rests under the gaze of the vastness
No kiss or love to awake the entombed princess
Crimson emaciated curtains descend upon the floor
Fathomless, eviscerated, veiled; the music is no more
YOUNG CRONUS (5.7.09)
My father decided he wanted his children
buried, and left for dead.
But my mother, Gaea, both fair and true,
spared her children instead.
So I met with my selfish father,
where, by Gaea, we both were led,
and, holding the sickle she gave me,
this is what I said:
"Hello, dearest father.
I'm glad that you came. After years without you,
I know how you feel about us.
I just hope you know: We feel the same about you."
"But we are not here to argue.
I came here to say good bye."
He knew farewells were in order,
but he did not yet, know why.
I explained our situation,
as my siblings stood idly by,
saying, "If you don't want to have children,
you cannot be swayed, so I won't even try.
But its too late to go back now.
You cannot erase my family and I.
So that leaves us only one option,
and that's why I'm saying goodbye."
"Goodbye, worthless father.
I'm glad that you came. Now pay what is due.
We know how you feel about us,
and now you know how we feel about you."
He regretted the seeds he had sewn,
so, in charity, I reaped his remorse.
I swung my sickle pure and precise,
with such fervent and furious force;
His blood was late to react to the wound,
and that which was lost by means of divorce,
found it's new home in the deep, dark, blue ocean-
unable to ever return to it's source.
Together with most of my brothers and sisters,
there seemed to be no better fit
than to send him away, as he would have sent us;
to the bottomless Tartarus pit.
"Goodbye, worthless father.
I'm glad that you came, and you paid what was due.
We knew how you felt about all of us,
so we showed you just how we all feel about you."
"Farewell forever, father.
I'm glad that you're gone, and I'll never atone.
Know that your fear was what you created,
as I take my seat in what once was your throne."
REQUIEM FOR LOVE
Let the flood of my tears drown this day
And soar my spirit to the base of tartarus…!
O Cupid…come Pothos and Himeros
Where are thy powers to hold still?
Are thou wearied by human caprices,
Of whose hands fate lies then?
Elusive Aphrodite, of all thy allures
Thou perish in fantasies of beauty.
O fair rose, my heart is pierced,
Beneath thy bed is frame of thorns.
Gather ye four winds in monotonous drone
And let thee pines chime a dirge
O love...love…love…my love…my joy…
Has now lain a wreath upon my heart!
Years of love intrigues, of dreams, sacrifice,
Pain, trust, consolation and determination…
Is sold out a day to another who knows not,
For a piece of coin and a parcel of fancy.
Lento… lento the knell for a broken heart…
Love is clothed a shadow, beauty a mask!
Cry… for what is broken so shall remain
Never to be wiped, never to be patched!
I stand in the swamp by the riverbank
clutching a coin I have stolen
as my heart still beats within my breast
It is only my spirit
that has slipped away
to await the ferryman of Acheron
Charon who
skillfully pilots his skiff
from there to where it flows
into Styx
He arrives and I pay the price
He places the coin in his pocket
and grabs hold of the pole
pushing away from the shore
as I lay indolent with lament
in the bottom of the boat
the icy chill of the water
seeping through the wood
Shivering I stare at the stars
silently weeping
remembering the many wishes
I made on them that went unrealized
unheard
for the Gods must have
found me unworthy
Cerberus will step aside to admit me
heads snarling
as the snakes on his back writhe
Hades will welcome me
Or he may hand me over
to be judged by Aeacus
and plunged into the pit of Tartarus
for my many sins
to be tortured for eternity
starved and beaten
my liver eaten by birds
May he have mercy on me
this sorrowful lost soul
for all I ever wanted
was to dance
carefree and content
to the music of miracles
in the golden flower filled
Elysian Fields forever
with you
With my Angels exorcised-
I Exercise my Devils
Daren't you guess what this implies?
In Evil doth I revel!
Shout and swear; curse and cuss
In the Bowels of Tartarus!
Sweet Lucifer! I do concur-
Heaven- it's just not for us!
Unto Acheron, great river of woe,
the buried to the entrance gate are led,
in the underworld to Charon below
to ferry across the souls of the dead.
Upon your lips, your eyes, a coin receive,
a fare lest you be trapped between two worlds -
allowed to enter but never to leave
where the waters of oblivion purls.
Where Furies dwell and Hellhounds guards the gate
and souls are judged in Hades’s deathless reign -
to wander the Styx and Lethe in wait
till rulers of gods and men part us twain.
The Pit of Tartarus where the soul yields
or sweet blissful isles of Elysian Fields.
Written: May 2012
I lost my mien I lost my unity
To the shadow of tartarus
Abided by the doom of iniquity
To the horde of vicious
Ached by the blamed chastity
To the blood of befouled gravitas.
I lost my alias I lost my faith
To the detainment of my goof
Abetted by the aphotic myth
To the trait lacked in proof
Copped by the dummy world so lyth
To the wraiths of swallowed truth.
I lost my anima I lost my chaste
To the roguish sprite
Plied by paroles jest
To the hearsays that parroted bright
Retained by the sight lest
Where I lost my being I lost ardor ignite.
___________x______________
As Hollywood
Casts its rectangular light,
A lighthouse without rotation
That warns no-one
As our ships are bashed
Against the rocks,
Sharp, jagged rocks
Of protruding buttresses
And ledges
In our fall down the shaft
To the center of the earth
To Tartarus
We silently applaud
As we enjoy,
As we are moved,
As the swell of the surf
Under our wooden ship
Washes us
With deep and deathly undercurrents
To ultimate doom
Against the rocks,
The jagged rocks,
Of this world.
O heavens, open your eyes,
Read my sad penned story,
Written before and after my
foot prints,
Open your eyes, O heavens,
See my tears falling down
Streaming to rivers of violent
waters,
Eroding bridge walls in freedom
search
O heavens, look down
Not beneath where all is
concealed
But see the insanities that
engulf our existence
And left our souls to wander
the abyss of
Tartarus
Below is the earth, O heavens,
Drinking on the blood of
children
Slain by the sword of
democracy
And eatern by the vultures of
politics
O heavens, before your sight
The children stand naked in
sorrow
Their flesh bruised by the
fathers' iniquities
And their minds soaked in the
lies of the council,
Above and above, O heavens,
Listern to the voice singing
below
Hear the pain from mama's
heart
As swords are sharpened by
the fathers' pride
And the call is for the bullet to
sound
O heavens of Gods
Here the harp strings are
broken
Listern the music rhythm is lost
In the chaos of their minds and
souls
Fathers dance to the sounds of
death
The earth is blind
Nude she walks around
Miserable and wretched
And she knows not her shame.
They orbit long with brief visions of each,
four pitch-lit eyes strike the shapeless hour.
How handsomely becoming is Houdini ‘pon a coward,
and who, really, is he, to hide away the breach?
Half the world is hidden, nay,
e'en half that all I know, as well,
and longer still my eyesight blurs
as I've learned every trick and mighty glam
from eventide’s torch to Nemesis wed...
I’ve even learned how to resurrect Houdini
and show him what he's missing:
Stars reborn slipping through his hands,
or how Potiphar's wife can kill a man
but not him: stuffed and bound by straitjackets
"He had watched Them disappear into caskets
of caricature and chrome.
Eternity-in-a-box!"
"Come, Houdini, I've bestowed to you true power
to materialize and summon; absolve the cruelest hours."
Yet his eyes unrehearsed held a loftier craving:
to escape the second dissolving call:
When snowflakes blankly fall
and reveal, "That is not it, at all"—
When bloodied snow mourning cloaks, engraves Gabriel down
through welcoming Tartarus towns;
through the Nessie teasing ‘round;
through the smiles he saw but never knew,
smiles that melt even alchemy's dread:
"You cannot change my mind—you should never have penned;
You should never have entered my head—
nor ever lived."
At the cusp of that Everest Mount,
Houdini and I face this exploding world for a final, bitter time
and together we cast The Spell: The Penultimate Getaway:
Nothing.
Our Screams Their Silence
Magical Clapping:
"Good show."
You were not celestial Cupid, and because they
Are wounded; you were most than those earthly ghosts
Brought down hearts by becoming Tartarus’ mastery;
That was purified by sufferings and misfortunes;
Some striking with long orgasms or others become honorary beasts.
I was Cupid before you when my home was a bursting wing;
O born in chains, and tolling in mental torment,
And for the first time, the pallid soul of dead love returned, and showed
Such bloody law of loving by me;
O enlightened me with bitten breasts,
The realm of luminous form that in dark it flowing,
Evermore than a designed nightmare
And let me feeling the mystic time.
Across you, o Psyche, crazy spirits dancing naked,
A smelled shadow that I would have most
Liked to spare the burden of old age,
Has nothing to give; only the glory a Moon-priestesses.
And all with hostility toward me and glowing
Was Cupid the fair ending of a love?
Through which I grew most liked a ghost
And speaking with her my last musical invoice
Hoping to have a decent response against what I became
Without you.
I've sailed across the ocean
Seen Carthya march to war
I've battled against Kronos
Heard Oliver ask for more
I was Receiver of Memory
The Speaker for the Dead
I've been Ender's Shadow
Heard the Whisperer in my head
I've found a world inside a wardrobe
Borne the Burden all alone
I've fallen into Tartarus
Been orphaned without a home
You may call them fantasy
A fable, myth, or tale
And though it ends eventually
For a little time it's real
(But as Mike was rambling with considerable fortitude about the inner workings of a car and the various ways that Florida threw their last football game or whatever trite nonsense men discuss over their mountains of beer bottles and clouds of ugly breath, Mary was pondering the physical and emotion ramifications of leaving him—for as a man he lacked in areas that were severely important in the maintaining of mutual happiness within a relationship, and further more she noticed him becoming increasingly distant and aloof; between her faked moans and twitches during her nightly duties that she so foolishly agreed to take part of on that fateful wedding day with the idyllic candle wax dripping on the carpet and the purple carnations like candy lining the hall seated by apparitions of smiling faces with faux ephemeral blessings bestowed upon the sanctity of marriage and he said I take thee Mary as my lovely wedded wife [Ha! Such words that were once coated in some saccharine candy-like veil and promises suited in armor are now rotted away], that his touches were no longer supple, soft, and passionate. His hands that used to be so longing and sensual as they rubbed up her back and over her luscious pink hills and through her sullen green valleys so raucously that reality was blurred and she had to reassess the differences between her faking her moans and her moans being true were now careless and limp, much like that useless tool that trudged along the inside of her like a challenged snake or perhaps a worm, and his breath that was tinged pink by lust was now stale and bored. Mary nowadays could not tell who was faking the best: he or she. Or maybe that derivative form of hope that lined the ulterior edges of their long lost love for each other, that last saving grace sent from heaven, has now faded away, like the smoldering flames of the fallen Tartarus. And smoke lined the corridors of Mt. Olympus.)
Written: February 14, 2025 for Brian Strand Contest
***********
In twilight, specks become stars,
bridges locked in gold,
Engraved whispers on walls
painted with diamond tears.
Singing hearts weave veins of
lilac and jasmine,
A serenade of soul waves,
ebbing through arid shadows.
Dark alleys paint a carnival of
spectral silhouettes,
Roots entwined in forlorn twilight colors,
wine-stained breaths.
Sorrow’s perfume lingers
like raindrops on roses,
Hushed epicedes echo
in the cinereous horizon.
Herbs waltz with heartbeats
beneath a canopy of trees,
Nestled nests console the forlorn
shorebirds at dusk.
Paranoia flickers like sparks
in a delicately hushed night,
Love’s choir sings an elusive refrain of
integrity and sins.
Delirium dances with
egoistic ghosts in the dark,
Tears pirouette like phantasmagoric
mist over steel syntax.
Blurring edges between serenity
and abyssal flare,
spheres clash in capricious vortices
under Gaia's winged gaze.
A whimsical trance catapults dreams
to an eldritch nebulae,
vortices float serenely,
weaving cosmic whispers into the night sky;
hushed murmurs from Eros to Erebus
blend seamlessly with somber threnodies;
in Gemini's embrace they linger
as wisps across Pyxis' burning calyx;
and while Maelstrom gnashes
within Tartarus' volcanic depths;
velleity blooms amidst fervent altar prayers
Echoes waft through Nexus' cavernous voids
to quench desires caught betwixt Chaos &
Gaia's visceral nexus hallucinations.