Submissions by Icepoet
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
POINT - COUNTERPOINT "I think, therefore I am." (Descartes) A man said to the Universe "Sir, I exist!" "However," replied the Universe, "The fact has not created in me A sense of obligation." (Crane) &nb
The Moppet Mound (Miscarriage of Justice)
Pale, the moon. A death-white bloom
impaled on leafless limb;
neon blood drips nacreous runes
upon a silver'd scrim.
Overgrown. A sculptured stone
leans cracked and lichen-crowned;
moss drapes, obscures, a chiseled tome
to traipse a moppet mound.
Child entombed. A spark consumed
by Death before its birth;
a nadir'd sleep of life-presumed,
tear-deep in bitter earth.
Faith suborned. A poisoned thorn
that stabs God in His eye;
a mother screams, prostrate to mourn
another dream that died.
Pale the moon - her...
impaled on leafless limb;
neon blood drips nacreous runes
upon a silver'd scrim.
Overgrown. A sculptured stone
leans cracked and lichen-crowned;
moss drapes, obscures, a chiseled tome
to traipse a moppet mound.
Child entombed. A spark consumed
by Death before its birth;
a nadir'd sleep of life-presumed,
tear-deep in bitter earth.
Faith suborned. A poisoned thorn
that stabs God in His eye;
a mother screams, prostrate to mourn
another dream that died.
Pale the moon - her...
556 reads
0 Comments
Sinful Poet
The Winter dies, yet still it tries to gasp a final breath,
its utterings convince me Spring exaggerates that death.
Persuasive pleas caress and tease as icy-fingered sighs,
controlling me, cajoling me, with whispers April lies.
A frosted breeze has bleached the trees around this mountain lake,
its wailings seem to pale the green from leaf and wooded brake.
I'm walking home, bitter, alone, along a rooted path,
all numb inside where my grief hides from mourning's aftermath.
I'd placed a rose whose beauty glowed, defiant to my sin, ...
its utterings convince me Spring exaggerates that death.
Persuasive pleas caress and tease as icy-fingered sighs,
controlling me, cajoling me, with whispers April lies.
A frosted breeze has bleached the trees around this mountain lake,
its wailings seem to pale the green from leaf and wooded brake.
I'm walking home, bitter, alone, along a rooted path,
all numb inside where my grief hides from mourning's aftermath.
I'd placed a rose whose beauty glowed, defiant to my sin, ...
610 reads
2 Comments
Blue Roses and Indigo Tears
After the close of each brand new day
that brings nothing, and no one to care,
I step off reality's edge just to lay
with faux memories in my Eden of Despair.
I re-trellis rose gardens of Yesteryear,
rename them the Bowers of Belief,
but I'm a blue rose weeping my indigo tears
knowing they're really the Graveyards of Grief.
And as Time goes on erasing my Past,
old heartaches and new sorrows spin
more acceptable Truths designed to outlast
a desolate heart never destined to win.
that brings nothing, and no one to care,
I step off reality's edge just to lay
with faux memories in my Eden of Despair.
I re-trellis rose gardens of Yesteryear,
rename them the Bowers of Belief,
but I'm a blue rose weeping my indigo tears
knowing they're really the Graveyards of Grief.
And as Time goes on erasing my Past,
old heartaches and new sorrows spin
more acceptable Truths designed to outlast
a desolate heart never destined to win.
646 reads
0 Comments
Creatures of the Night
Comes the Sun in murderous frenzy,
come fiery beams that kill, ignite
Beauty in sacrifice to Envy --
sweet dark energy to Light.
Wings the Hunter, springs the Feral,
owl to shadow, wolf to gloom;
symbolic Criers of the Peril,
heralding Nocturnal's doom.
Weeps this Forest, creeps that Rising,
one is Sadness, one is Spite,
but gods of Dusk breathe on horizons
to grant rebirth to unguent Night.
come fiery beams that kill, ignite
Beauty in sacrifice to Envy --
sweet dark energy to Light.
Wings the Hunter, springs the Feral,
owl to shadow, wolf to gloom;
symbolic Criers of the Peril,
heralding Nocturnal's doom.
Weeps this Forest, creeps that Rising,
one is Sadness, one is Spite,
but gods of Dusk breathe on horizons
to grant rebirth to unguent Night.
604 reads
2 Comments
The Darker Gleam
I have not come to tread upon the feral dreams of men,
nor validate the sacraments that mitigate your sins;
a brighter Light than I has offered those indemnities,
but zealots fear the suffering of soft eternities,
and so you cast against the Void a billion sacred screams
to break the Seal of Solomon, release the darker Gleam;
an Entity that revels in your sacrificial blood
and will not choose to cleanse the stains with artificial floods.
You have submitted, each and all, atrocities of hate -
in willing thrall to Pestilence, your screams shall not...
nor validate the sacraments that mitigate your sins;
a brighter Light than I has offered those indemnities,
but zealots fear the suffering of soft eternities,
and so you cast against the Void a billion sacred screams
to break the Seal of Solomon, release the darker Gleam;
an Entity that revels in your sacrificial blood
and will not choose to cleanse the stains with artificial floods.
You have submitted, each and all, atrocities of hate -
in willing thrall to Pestilence, your screams shall not...
630 reads
6 Comments
Trapped On Venus
I've licked the dusty Darfur sands
to taste a story that has spanned,
from seed to bloom, obscurant Man's
D. Muscipula of murder schemes.
I've breathed in motes of crystal shards
from Goebbels-inspired hate canards;
frost molecules and advant-garde
for six million Holocaust screams.
I've dipped my tongue in Newton's ship
and sampled salted blood that dripped
as clots of freedom pious-whipped
off Amazing Grace's birthing slaves.
I've inhaled sickly-sweet perfume
from each ascending soul consumed
by starveling...
to taste a story that has spanned,
from seed to bloom, obscurant Man's
D. Muscipula of murder schemes.
I've breathed in motes of crystal shards
from Goebbels-inspired hate canards;
frost molecules and advant-garde
for six million Holocaust screams.
I've dipped my tongue in Newton's ship
and sampled salted blood that dripped
as clots of freedom pious-whipped
off Amazing Grace's birthing slaves.
I've inhaled sickly-sweet perfume
from each ascending soul consumed
by starveling...
665 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Icepoet
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