WHERE IS SHE NOW?
Born on the eve of Christmas, so they say
Although they can’t be absolutely sure.
The Parish Priest discovered me that day
Wrapped in a shawl outside the narthex door
“I’m sorry,” said the note tucked in the shawl,
“Somebody please take care of him for me.”
They searched but found no trace of her at all.
I think of her, wherever she may be.
How terrified she must have been that night
What desperation made her leave me there?
Sometimes I’m angry, knowing that I might
Have died there in the cold December air.
I wonder, does she think of me and grieve
When she recalls that ice cold Christmas Eve.
22nd May 2023
Sonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Sotto Poet
Categories:
narthex, birth, mother,
Form: Sonnet
I behold the aurora from the open cerulean,
Descending down to the narthex of the east.
The first glimpse awakens the phoenix o'er the yon Caribbean,
And awakens my beloved's soul who still sleeps sun-kiss'd.
Filtered into the boudoir of my dear damsel,
The scarlet rays osculate her pinkish cheeks.
And her slumberous hairs with their swaying tails,
Waltz to the zephyr from the northern peaks.
The cupid's essence with a crimson glimpse,
Perches o'er her yawning eyes and blushing face,
And makes her warm in her auroral dreams,
With its divine fragrance of amorous grace.
How tacitly the piquant sun with its alluring arms,
Filches her sleep and kisses her lips too warm!
And plays too sly with bewitching charms,
To allure my girl into the morning's swarm.
Her skin bedaubed with the hazel tint of love,
And her voice now sweeter as Beethoven's strings.
Thus all my gratitude to the blest star above,
Must be offered on behalf of the mortal beings.
Thy chiaroscuro amid the swathes of bare skies,
Gleams as an epiphany o'er varied lands of men,
And bless each soul with thy ambrosial eyes,
Till the apogee of life into a little grain.
Categories:
narthex, emotions, imagery, love, memory,
Form: Rhyme
time slides ever to the right,
neither scabrous skidding mark,
nor faint leavings of wisdom’s feast,
only gouged furrows, upturned days,
to love only ideas of love,
inane this hate of a cruel gentle kiss,
blackened hollow, sunken chest,
banal sacraments bless clamoring voices,
blown down a narthex like noisy wraiths,
screaming attention emotional ear stoppers,
when I'm here-
I'm there,
and when I'm there-
I'm here,
a self wound-ed pocketwatch missing a chain,
endlessly inward, the self-seeing eye,
germinated in murky hothouses,
stumbling over obligatory roots along blood red claybanks,
wine and honey, summertime of days,
flow past, rushing torrent of softer kisses unwetted,
aloof, removed, astrally projected,
the world perceived in gloomy mastication,
a demented ascetic in a cold mountain niche,
grown older in the dimlight, stranger to himself,
nary the wiser, sunblinded, threadworn,
stumbling towards an emptier ending of,
impure unsaid poetry,
coagulated prose,
clotted in the footprint,
trailing behind.
Categories:
narthex, god, love,
Form: I do not know?
And so it was in the time of high charges for the governed
upon entering the Narthex of the church
of the Cold Blue Static Balls of Charge,
powerful PUBLICUS UTILITAS proclaimed:
“Make way; for I’m the journeyman directorate
of the all powerful Red Hot Orange Conglomerate,
here to ground your independent shorts
unto our power grid.
Let the word go forth from this time and place,
no longer will you be able to reverse the
flow to lessen your monthly burden.”
And so it goes from that day to this!
For the MAGIC WORDS contest
Categories:
narthex, satiretime,
Form: Free verse