In my family, a convent in Lucerne, Switzerland loomed legend large.
It’s name is “La Madone Noire” (the Black Madonna) and according to my mom, it is a “finishing school” where captious girls, who lied or who wouldn’t
behave, were sent to live with and be schooled by nuns.
It was, from all reports, a terrible and stern place where there was never any
ice cream or bedtime stories and the toys, when there were any, were made of straw.
Most of the time it was my older sister Annick getting the dark Poe-like lectures, but I was there, in my high chair, listening wide-eyed. The very idea that Annick could be snatched up, for some infraction, and sent off to the nuns horrified me to the point that my heartbeat seemed to come through my whole body.
Eventually, as we grew, “Lucerne” became a shorthand for “shape up or else,”
and oddly, it never lost Its potency. Hmm, you know, come to think of it - there
was no equivalent monastery for my brother.
Categories:
noire, humor, kid, mom, parents,
Form: Free verse
Sssssst….."Silencesssssss……that'sssss…what I likesssss…."
The snake hisses and slithers incognito
In a dark alley lit by red lanterns
It believes all lives belong to it
A fool's belief, people may say
Words travel around returning with echoes
Banging sound waves to the head
Hurting the mind that holds a secret key
To a place where the slabs of the alley disappear
There are no walls, only a place with endless radiance
Bliss takes new forms ceaselessly altering its course
Faceless by night, pretender by day
In every mirror it sees, it becomes unrecognizable
In daylight, it wears a mask believing
In nightfall, it rips up the mask unbelieving
A Collaborated Poem with Angeline
Edited and arranged by Angeline
Copyright © 2016 June 4th
Categories:
noire, dark, identity, imagery, metaphor,
Form: Free verse
Sssssst….."Silencesssssss……that'sssss…what I likesssss…."
The snake hisses and slithers incognito
In a dark alley lit by red lanterns
It believes all lives belong to it
A fool's belief, people may say
Words travel around returning with echoes
Banging sound waves to the head
Hurting the mind that holds a secret key
To a place where the slabs of the alley disappear
There are no walls, only a place with endless radiance
Bliss takes new forms ceaselessly altering its course
Faceless by night, pretender by day
In every mirror it sees, it becomes unrecognizable
In daylight, it wears a mask believing
In nightfall, it rips up the mask unbelieving
A Collaborated Poem with Teddy Kimathi
Edited and arranged by Angeline
Copyright © 2016 June 4th
Categories:
noire, character, dark, imagination,
Form: Free verse
Fleur noir
Fleur effrayée le soir
Fleur de la nuit
Fleur invisible
Fleur qui n'a jamais touché la pluie
Une fleur qui n’a jamais dansé dans le vent
Une fleur qui ne chante
La fleur qui se cache nue
S`est jamais souvenu
Une fleur qui est tout simplement
Une petite fleur
Toutes les fleurs avec des pétales brisés
Enfin réunis
Au-dessus de mon cercueil
Aujourd'hui, vous êtes tous au soleil
Je dors avec la lune
Categories:
noire, memory, sorrow,
Form: I do not know?
A love sacred to the sinister garden
blossomed fruits set with arcane knowledge.
You are the original that danced,
among the ebony. The one with a heart … that
only knew, nonconforming. Forbidden amour!
Oh love, the one who never submitted.
Revolution missionaire, would you? …
Give in? Such an upset for Adam.
"We are created from dust and element."
Forceful will, that was your testament.
Peering as you bathed near the swallowing waters;
naked flesh beneath the wet volumes of your hair.
Your eyes had shot seduction bullets to my heart.
Deceitful emotions to entice. Please have mercy!
Beauteous-Medusa, you belong to Morning Star.
For you, Lilith, shall repose with men.
If thou bares you an offspring in
the night … would you cannibalize in your
wicked spite? Revenge of the one damned.
You are the essence of vanity and bane.
Midnight-Cleopatra, with a lust for sin.
Your womanly anatomy, divinely noire.
Apart of many characters black-listed;
abominations are chaotic confounds,
With a hint of pandemonium on the spread.
Categories:
noire, analogy, creation, dark,
Form: Verse
My sense of humors mannered an approach,
That anyone that so likes can call a friend.
It isn’t a dream killer or a snatcher but helps push.
It isn’t a dream stealer or a watcher but makes meaning friends.
It’s a dream maker and not a breaker.
It’s an inspirer and not a bore.
It’s a pixel that encompasses and projects.
It nurtures dreamers, pets and makes them erect.
Look through the mirror, you look, it’s it you’ll see.
It’s your spare, yes, that which you just saw.
It’s a soul that stays with you every now and then.
Wherever you go, whatever you do, whenever you like,
Whatever you like or dislike, whatever you eat and drink,
No wheres, it’s yet your wears for every night and day.
Bete noire, 'tis not.
23/1/2014.
Categories:
noire, age, beauty, deep, dream,
Form: Free verse
Drip, drip, dripping down
The moon it shimmers
In the blood that ripples
On the ground
Pink water
In the sink
A cockroach
On the wall
Sip, sip, sipping up
The whiskey from an
Old tin cup; one last
Gulp devours all
Now lay
Back and
Go to
Sleep
Categories:
noire, adventure
Form: I do not know?
tumbled symbols scream
tongue-tied tussled bed wetter
fomenter of torment. seeps
dandelion seed shout
unbound denizen of night
angels guardian of sleep
Categories:
noire, childhood
Form: Sedoka
Rapturous youth and tranquil prime,
Withered with a weird dream.
I was compelled to enter a realm bete-noire,
That of Stephen Hawking, O dear!
Despite the 'black hole' studs,
Our realm 'emits' a glorious radiance.
Categories:
noire, imagination, life, parody, passion,
Form: I do not know?