The Apple Fell:
A humming looms
Flying shore long
Over the hush of air.
Voiceless
Cloud-wall
The cloud shadows float
The calm of ebb
The ebb whispers
Almost mirror
As if we had not been meant to see her
Rehearsing behind
The screen of life for another audience
The signature tune
Arose
As a pristine figure appeared
Headlong standing tall
Statuesque
An ageless beauty
Portrayed
Her signature emblem
Symbol of high tragic thoughts
Which I dare not cross
Hung heavy as a stream
Were the plagues of her past.
As an opaque beauty
Perched herself
On the pale fulfillment
Of a face
Of pout
A cliff of indecision appeared more abrupt.
Progress
She was married to an overarching tear.
The summit
She cries unsleeping
“Does it matter if I hate myself?”
Echoes…
A fierce consciousness
Peaks and is conjoined
With disinterestedness.
Had she crossed the Rubicon?
This woman sang a ballad of blame
w/o blame.
Rejection had bred rejection
Few years did not waste
Away an evil
That lay in the knoll
Of dead promises.
Marred.
She was changed by grief
And with discovery of absence
May lay
Locked in love
Her realist eyesHer signature emblem
Symbol of high tragic thoughts
Which I dare not cross
Hung heavy as a stream
Were the plagues of her past.
As an opaque beauty
Perched herself
On the pale fulfillment
Of a face
Of pout
A cliff of indecision appeared more abrupt.
Progress
She was married to an overarching tear.
The summit
She cries unsleeping
“Does it matter if I hate myself?”
Echoes…
A fierce consciousness
Peaks and is conjoined
With disinterestedness.
Had she crossed the Rubicon?
This woman sang a ballad of blame
w/o blame.
Rejection had bred rejection
Few years did not waste
Away an evil
That lay in the knoll
Of dead promises.
Marred.
She was changed by grief
And with discovery of absence
May lay
Locked in love
Sought progress
In the
Mysticism of …
And so the play begins
The curtain starts to rise
She stood a-skewed
Lumbering fate
Unknown and nameless
Not knowing
We sorrow
Or that this is our sorrow
Usurping claims
We never possessed
A device of mourning
Powerful enough to encapsulate
The sorrow of loss
Bound inseparably to failure
The epic saga
Of apathy…
Not a revelation
Is he who simply doesn’t concern himself
With the welfare of other,
Mind you…
In your absence
She breathed oblivion
Idleness
Eden now is lost.
What are years
In the break of day
In the trenches of my mind
My soul barred
Shut the deepest reaches
Of my heart.
I find it hard that we’re apart.
A bromuous numen
Labored it’s way
With a lozengure
Down my throat
I could have banked that you would
Have been shroud in tears
Not procuring your next Diva!!!
Scantily clad
In a peignoir
Suckled in the orgy
Of another’s smile
She was supple and turbulent
Her silken weavings
Stitched together
On the summers evening that we met
Outside your house.
The burning bosom of my desire
Mystifies my sweet questionings
Grave
Is all
To never touch
The inarticulate pangs of hope
I came to procure your heart
Death is the mother of beauty,
My dear!
Enduring was my love
Divided now from you
Laborious is my pain
As the requital of my passion
Is received
Indifferently.
Unite my blood
Commingle
Viginal
Longings
The seeping of paradise
Sheds.
Manifest
Was the ripened death of our heavenly fellowship
When you left me for her
Blue-shadowed silk--
And I alone
Withering in the self-same
Sounds
Of casual friendship…
Sex and isolation...
xxx
No comments:
Post a Comment