ntoward are the ill-starred,
unto death is the road.
Unto all is charity.
Unto life is wine.
The merry sing unto sleep
then unto dreamlands
they must go, I and you,
each of us the king of Xanadu.
HER TIME
ill- dated she thought
ill-humored her birth brought
ill-omened her race
ill-starred her pace.
Through thick hide
Though beffudled
Hard-boiled she remained
Her bright future is imminent.
Ineluctable is her fate
Bridled by unknown
Blithe she ever has been
Awaiting a pleasant futurity.
An Ijeoma Ikonne's poem © 2021
I wandered from mirror after mirror
finding no home in any of them,
for my reflection can only have a being
in these eyes of yours.
I appear with the unbegotten
In the hollows of the seen
A shadow of the soon forgotten
I enter through the dream
Inhabiting the void
In the source of germ and seed
I bring forth the undestroyed
As time and space recede
In nightmares where the banished dwell
In spells inciting ire
I swallow up a newborn hell
Bound by wind and fire
Snuffing out a sun or two
As a galaxy expires
I take root in empty truths
With flesh as my attire
As ill-starred seers stutter
And oracles retire
I awake the muted echoes
In the ruins of desire
Written by © Raven Drake
You ought to thank your stars,
you have the fortune
of having only to pay a fortune
to lose weight,
just so your waistline
and cholesterol and gluttony
you will be able to temporarily
beat.
Somewhere, many more
are not as lucky as you are;
though they don't have
bulging fats to defeat,
they're so ill-starred
as to have the misfortune
of simply having nothing
to eat!
Your gaze hindered by the fading of our hearts.
Darkness consoles my soul,
malformed monsters swept into my lofty room.
Remorse all about me.
Anguish dwells where love use to lie,
shrouded by the darkness,
ravished hearts dissolve in tears.
Sweet fervors no longer abound us.
Anxiety cruel that it is,
attacks my morbid soul.
My love that is dead reeks stale,
encompasses my aching head.
Torment fills the air,
memories yet to share.
Melted by emotion lost,
caresses envelop my heart broken.
Darkness takes over moist rays of the sun,
profoundly empty solitude,
alone with memories of you,
dwelling in my ill-starred head.
Melancholy waltz lulled by subtle idleness,
harmony's confidential tone,
flung into a sea of amber.
Grandeur swept from swaths of my life,
corrupt agility aspire,
unique sweetness melted away.
Cruel life sleeps,
spider eater, gotta special bond
spider-eating, one by one
feel them squish on the tongue
love the taste of the numbing venom
cockroach eater, one under thumb
roach-eating, oh what utter fun
crawling around inside your mouth
belly laughs, they'll never get back out
sundae mourning de-lite
subtle shift of a creaking door to the tune of
the screaming of a thousand ill-starred spirits
shrieks of the rat, caught by the rear
all those bones and fur won't go down so easy
taciturns of blue veins percolating
blue blood spilling in the heart
a cold winter, it's where the dark sets in
but no one can see with all those ribs and skin
lover eater, gotta special flavor
flesh-eating, drip of macabre
all this thick red muscle
the cold wet meat could use some salt
drop me a line
your finest red wine, ship me a case
i envy your palette
and fashion sense, impeccable taste
you're nothing like the ones back home
(there are not enough poems about cannibals... :D oh and before you tell me to
seek help... oh wait, i don't care. f--- you... it's called "art.")
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