Long Threshold Poems
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On the edge of something
language hadn’t been invented yet
to describe what I was seeing,
the horizon whispered secrets,
color drenched in honey and twilight,
where shadows danced like old friends,
smiles and sighs mingled
in the liquid air.
The sky was a canvas,
not of stars, but of ideas,
shapes that bent and folded
like dreams never quite dreamed,
a tapestry woven with possibility.
I reached out, fingertips grazing
the pulse of something new,
unfurling,
tender like a first breath,
heavy with silence,
swelling with wonder.
Time stretched in soft arcs,
each moment a petal unfurling,
the world a chorus of visions,
where mountains cradled the sun,
and rivers carried laughter
in their swift embrace.
I stood, suspended,
on the cusp of discovery,
heart racing in rhythm
with the melody of the unseen,
the unsaid.
In that space, I was lost
and found,
a witness to the unspoken,
to the edge of language,
waiting to be born.
So frequently we sat inside
those holy dwelling places,
All Saints for all our sins,
knowing that true grace is
here in the pulpit, there in the pew.
So shamelessly we sat inside
those holy dwelling places,
Salvation found at fingertips
touching through forbidden spaces,
clinging, cold in the shadows outside.
So carelessly we sat inside
those holy dwelling places.
Do you recall the Chapel,
side by side with angel's faces,
where you first dared to touch my hand?
Across each threshold, love, My love,
we carried burning traces
of that blackest, basest love,
which no rosary erases.
Under the veil of twilight, where shadows whisper secret truths,
Lies an unspoken world, untouched by the gentle hand of forgiveness.
No forgiveness for deeds, not even for stray thoughts,
Where the censor’s ink leaves the page blank, yet the truth unmoved.
In the echoes of the mountains, in the embrace of the fog, nothing dissolves,
Time breaches the healer’s vow, and our misdeeds rise large.
People will call upon us in dark times, and in vain,
Revealing no other perspective in the face of the abyss.
Perched upon the shoulders of our dead, the sins and betrayals of yore,
In ancestral tales, they are just deceit and villainy—
Our language offers no cure for this leprosy of the soul.
Do not hope to blame age or chance, or the poverty of spirit.
No escape in environment, in education, boredom, or backwardness,
Eyes entwined, bodies imperfect, talents scarcely sufficient.
To hear not, to know not, to leave lessons unanswered,
Standing still at the threshold of enlightened worlds.
Those who survived are only ancestors, do not boast, children,
Whisper a word for us, the unforgiven,
Who bear the weight of history’s silent reproach,
Lost souls seeking the elusive embrace of redemption.
In dreams, we traverse mist-laden paths to forgotten realms,
Where the ghosts of past mistakes cast lingering shadows,
And the melancholic dance of memory weaves its magic,
Binding us in a spell of intertwined sorrow and hope.
For in this twilight, where past and present converge,
We find the delicate balance of our existence,
A symphony of what was and what could be,
In the ever-flowing river of time’s poignant reflection.
The Stranger with a Galaxy in His Chest
The price of my awakening is a vast and strange loneliness,
When my eyes open beyond the veil of the crowd's illusion,
I become a stranger among the masks asleep in their frozen slumber,
An exile from the shared dream, carried on the shoulders of the world's silence.
A galaxy has ignited in my chest, like a lighthouse forgotten by the gods,
Small stars are born and die inside the empty box of my ribs,
I carry a whole universe under my skin, where others carry only sparks,
And I walk barefoot on shards of mirror, through astral ruins.
Below, beneath my feet, the masks sleep in a slumber of ancient stone,
Faces without eyes, stitched into the fabric of one blind, collective dream,
I watch them dreaming the same shadows, the same fear, the same seal,
And I, awake, remain the only actor who stepped out of their absorbed script.
I wander through houses with blind windows, where others still sleep deeply,
Every room hides a mask calling me back into the herd,
But my threshold is different now, one that no longer leads to the same line,
And everything that once felt certain becomes only a prop, only a trace.
I have no companions in dream anymore, only the echo of my solitary footsteps,
Through cold corridors, above a sea of sleeping faces,
I carry the starry sky beneath my ribs like a sacred, fanatic wound,
A price paid for seeing beyond the masks called "lives lived."
And still I don't regret this cold light, though it burns me slowly, silently,
For better alone, awake, beneath my own sky growing in my chest like a citadel,
Than asleep again, eyes stitched shut, in the unseen fog
Of a world that sleeps softly, believing itself free, and yet is bound.
With the submerging spent sun in my scarlet sky,
the twilight colors of my listless life slowly sink.
At the edge of hazy horizon the night waits for my moon,
across the insurmountable dark abyss.
The wisps of disappearing cloud tinged with fading hues
weave for me the tapestry of the departing day.
Behind the shroud of nocturnal gloom my stars hide
beyond the immeasurable distressing gulf.
The dust of despair drizzles on the darkened skyline
from the descending night veiling the ebony future.
My mangled mind can’t recover the dwindled dreams,
lost in the unfathomable depth of agonized void.
My fragile footprints fade in the threshold of ashen dusk,
as I walk the last mile in the inky shadow of obscurity.
Hoping to feel God’s grace in the rays of the new sunrise,
I stand at the fringe of the unbridgeable chasm.
She lies hidden in the darkness consumed by their fear, she can sense them from miles away and her conscience is crystal clear
She knows that she is wanted, she is surrounded by lust, and she would sink her teeth in if only they were close enough
Once they’re within reach she weaves her wicked web, to cradle them with every fantasy imaginable before she leads them to death
She has no heart, she is the worst of her kind, only out to be in control and take what she feels is hers to dine
They believe they’re walking into love as she entices them with her hourglass shape, but by the time they realize she isn’t looking for love by then it’s much too late
She already has them in her grasp and her hold is deathly tight, she gives them the affection they crave from her lust and then she kisses them goodnight
Goodnight for all of eternity all because she loves the thrill, giving them all of her until she has had her feel
Then she tosses them into the night, and she feeds off their carcass as they lie, and she doesn’t feel one ounce of sorrow to her it’s always goodbye
She is the dominatrix here, the almighty queen, she lives to rip their hearts and bodies in two by any and all means
She loves the power, the way they dance, as they stick to her deadly web, and as she bids them farewell, she finishes off with their heads
It’s her prize, her trophy, to show that she is the ruler here, no one shall cross her threshold and live to tell that they were here
She is the black widow, and all men are her prey, she is out to let you lust over her, but there’s always a price to pay.
Pouring drops tumble as Sin shares her final sensual treasured embrace prior the sanctified storm
Once the Crowning Rays threshold is now the traverse shadow, tattered and tangled amidst destiny’s yarn
Warn decree, reminisced jeweled land plateau accuse is now stone-cold alleyways aging in silence
Damned light, the heart forever shattered, yet the flesh remains unbroke, never
to be unsaid it was love
The crystallized vastness of stars anesthetized the vagabond vampire within the valley of death
Breath of beauty wins by retrofire corresponded aura humanized exemplars on atlas skies
Yesteryears memories are the futures joys for no weeping words or heroic deeds will redeem
Updated 5/14/2019
Form:
In verdant refuge, I've concealed,
Whispered of your grace, in veiled tongue.
Unveiling passion, dread abounds,
Sleep flees, with love's throb throbbing.
From the instant our gazes met,
A nexus formed, ethereal thread.
Emotion's haze, unsure, elusive,
Yet, within, a fervent ember.
This liaison, steeped in enigma,
Deeper essence, all must fathom.
Thus, humbly I descend, knees kissed,
Propounding queries poised for you.
If you acquiesce, divinely concur,
I'd transcend, paramount suitor.
Allow celestial grace to drape,
Your form, the heavens adorning.
Though your heart may veer, astray,
I beseech, will you grant?
Through love's threshold, grant me passage,
Journey as one, fate entwined.
Reveal the cryptic enigmas hidden,
In whispered echoes, affection's code.
Untangle the tapestry, our destinies,
Intertwined, two souls harmonizing.
Let us waltz amidst love's sonata,
Symphony resplendent, hearts entwined.
In twilight's embrace, serenade whispers,
As constellations witness our ardor.
Unveil the tendrils of desire,
Lush petals unfurling, passion ablaze.
Euphoria's hymn, sung fervently,
As time surrenders to our unity.
Shall we etch our tale,
In ethereal ink, love's manuscript?
Within the labyrinth of devotion,
We'll script a tapestry, everlasting.
Allow your essence, an elixir sweet,
To intertwine with mine, inseparable.
Through tempest's gale or tranquil seas,
We'll weather love's ever-changing tides.
With you, the hours dance,
In harmonious rhythm, souls enmeshed.
In your presence, serenity finds home,
A sanctuary, where love's embers glow.
So, let truth unfurl,
Unlock secrets, desires untamed.
In this waltz of hearts, entwined,
Shall we embark on love's voyage?
Speak, and in your words,
Shall the universe sway, hearts aligned.
For in your answer lies my solace,
A symphony composed, love's opus divine.
©Otieno Elvis Gikoi
THE ELO’S????
ArtFromHeart
Remember Me
When you finally have a moment,
Come and brush the dust from this abandoned house
With your steps.
For centuries it has stood here,
Wrapped in a shroud of frozen silence,
Waiting for the echo of your voice.
Grief still walks its halls with a torn collar,
And sorrow dances in the searing arms
Of separation.
The window still repeats the same old scene.
The cup of tea you left half-drunk
Still sits untouched, frozen in time.
The flowers that once bloomed at the sight of us
Have all turned to dust in this desert
Of years.
Some paused at the threshold,
Some curled in the corners of rooms,
Some withered on the bed,
All fading into lifelessness.
All the words we never said
Are written on my face, in my eyes, in my voice
If only you would read them now.
So come once more to my grave,
Which has waited for the sound of your footsteps
Since forever.
Place your hand on that mound of earth,
So my wandering soul, alone in these ruins,
Might finally find rest at your touch.
And leave a light behind —
A light that bears your name,
For perhaps the purpose of my life
Was only to become
A single flame.
(Free Verse)
I am doomed here, weeping in blackness born
Finding my way through this dusty threshold
Heart is bleeding and...torn.
This love so betrayed
A surreal abyss,
Thrown away fade
Yet I wish for
Your warmth so alive more
I am dying here, weeping in blackness doomed
Falling through this darkened tomb,
Heart so empty and bleak consumed
This heart so betrayed,
A deathly void
Forgotten laid
Yet I wish for
Your lips so warm... more
I am chained here, lost in the night,
Thirsting through this evil emptiness,
Heart so black and ...bleak alight
This darkness so stricken,
A red void,
Forgotten...quicken
Yet I wish for
Your blood so warm and...alive more...
Dorian Petersen Potter
Aka ladydp2000
copyright@2009
December,12,2014