Submissions by blue_angel
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Poetry puts the twist in my long medieval locks. - blue angel (Poetess inking her madness)
Burning Thoughts
Where art thou hiding --
perhaps, 'neath a lonely willow . . .
maybe amongst its swaying tendrils?
Or near the shadow's edge --
where darkness threatens thy way . . .
Come, awaken thy slumbering heart!
Where art thou, I cry forth--
to the shy, grey fox crouching low . . .
Are you there, betwixt those briars cold?
O come now, sweet lover of flame --
perplex a lux of reason for me . . .
I beg thee, come torch my shadow-box of poetry!
[at least then I shan't read what used to be]
©...
1130 reads
6 Comments
O Muse of Pyrrhic Sage
~
You first touched me while I dreamt,
dreamt in the fallen feathers of a youth spent.
Like a mist gathering from the northernmost edge,
your words laced fire 'round my careful points.
Jagged and yearning --
A slip from a rhythmic tongue,
you parted pages 'gainst my exposed bones,
and I began to feel the infernal burn.
Then came the shadows of your pouring song,
coiling 'round my inkwell, again and again.
Grasping quills splintered, I chased after
your tangle of adages, ablaze in Pyrrhic sage.
I...
1098 reads
The Infinite Language of Flowers
~
You told me to pick my favorite flowers and pretend they were from you.
I burned in the aftermath of your message.
Harboring the sentiment; believing it...for me only.
I, the foolish one.
Pick my own flowers, and pretend they are from you. I shattered in the clutches of that moment
as beautifully as a glass-blown angel in the fist of a demented artist.
I am lost in pretending and don't care to find my way out of it.
You knew I was destined to dwell behind the veil of an ambiguous poem...
1174 reads
14 Comments
Basta Per Stasera
1688 reads
22 Comments
Crushed Velvet Night
Delirium sighed and parted its heavy lips]
He could taste the cherries now -
The dreamt haunt; the slayer of his thoughts
That cruel river of surging scent
raped his mind with glorious intent
It tore out verses, woven and twisted
It was her!
with her eyes set to twilight
He could taste the cherries now
spilling forth their spoiled fix
those fermented waves
sprawling out where she lay
lifeless and stilled
in...
He could taste the cherries now -
The dreamt haunt; the slayer of his thoughts
That cruel river of surging scent
raped his mind with glorious intent
It tore out verses, woven and twisted
It was her!
with her eyes set to twilight
He could taste the cherries now
spilling forth their spoiled fix
those fermented waves
sprawling out where she lay
lifeless and stilled
in...
1348 reads
13 Comments
Cleansing the Alabaster Lily
~
~
Bashful fox leapt into the womb of its den, when my conscience began sparring with rain. I dared the deluge to meet my brief existence with forceful pricks. Desperately, I ached below the malevolent sky, heaving out swears to swallow each definitive drop; inciting Tlaloc's assault for spite.
Destined, of course, to a sacrificial surrender.
I riled with fists full of nothingness, wailed to the bite of vanishing --gushed forth in swells of vociferous displeasure. Nearly realizing the wingless flight with each pitiful pounce.
...
946 reads
3 Comments
Palette of Pain ~*~ collaboration
1324 reads
12 Comments
The Last Candle
She wore I love yous like cheap lipstick]
November's exile
feels like a cosmic rendering
of self-serving immunity.
The obliteration of emotional depth
is imminent in the shallows.
The rain returned as promised.
To unhinge from reality and its tasteless virtue,
I excuse myself from the vulgar feast
then lean from the shadows
to blow out the last candle.
I trace my fingers along
the darkness of forgotten words
between lovers, written a long time...
November's exile
feels like a cosmic rendering
of self-serving immunity.
The obliteration of emotional depth
is imminent in the shallows.
The rain returned as promised.
To unhinge from reality and its tasteless virtue,
I excuse myself from the vulgar feast
then lean from the shadows
to blow out the last candle.
I trace my fingers along
the darkness of forgotten words
between lovers, written a long time...
1270 reads
20 Comments
Immortal Thirst on Hallows Eve
O' juju wand; my supple twig of charm,
stir deep within the womb of Hecate.
Lift the malevolent mask, Great Drone,
touch beyond the philosopher's stone.
'Neath Erebus, I carve impetus verse;
calling forth thy vexed, immortal thirst.
Pull the shadows back, meet thy gaze,
meld within my dark enclave.
Where gossamer threads secure the key;
and traverse the welkin of energy.
Syphon slow the mead of a woven cento.
Besiege, the enmossed Mistress of Erato.
Loose thy tongue, and unfurl thy scribe,
wiln for...
stir deep within the womb of Hecate.
Lift the malevolent mask, Great Drone,
touch beyond the philosopher's stone.
'Neath Erebus, I carve impetus verse;
calling forth thy vexed, immortal thirst.
Pull the shadows back, meet thy gaze,
meld within my dark enclave.
Where gossamer threads secure the key;
and traverse the welkin of energy.
Syphon slow the mead of a woven cento.
Besiege, the enmossed Mistress of Erato.
Loose thy tongue, and unfurl thy scribe,
wiln for...
1438 reads
16 Comments
Serpentine Whore
1278 reads
15 Comments
Slavish Chords
A vintage vase sits center the table,
cut crystal bearing no floral décor.
Still it dares to catch the sun,
recklessly scattering fragments of light
throughout the spacious room.
The dainty flecks of starlit charm
lave across a curve; a feminine form.
My tempter sits center the room
poised and naked; a beauty stilled.
I nod and she begins to tease cello strings
and press her breasts against the warm, smooth wood.
Her thighs tighten 'round it, bracing the instrument.
She closes her eyes and fills the air with slavish chords.
...
cut crystal bearing no floral décor.
Still it dares to catch the sun,
recklessly scattering fragments of light
throughout the spacious room.
The dainty flecks of starlit charm
lave across a curve; a feminine form.
My tempter sits center the room
poised and naked; a beauty stilled.
I nod and she begins to tease cello strings
and press her breasts against the warm, smooth wood.
Her thighs tighten 'round it, bracing the instrument.
She closes her eyes and fills the air with slavish chords.
...
1116 reads
12 Comments
Capillus de Sanguine
Hair of Blood;
the unveiling nightshade,
cast down your bedeviling eyes!
Could you bewilder me
through incantations disguised?
The wending path bestirs with
slight intrigue, as it stretches
and stitches, yet
another desolate scene.
Quicken your steps,
rush with panting breaths!
For the wellspring has sprung
bejeweling the crown of illusion.
Upcurve your lips, widen your eyes
for inside the dreamscape,
my serpents thrive.
Arch your spine and lower your tongue.
Touch...
the unveiling nightshade,
cast down your bedeviling eyes!
Could you bewilder me
through incantations disguised?
The wending path bestirs with
slight intrigue, as it stretches
and stitches, yet
another desolate scene.
Quicken your steps,
rush with panting breaths!
For the wellspring has sprung
bejeweling the crown of illusion.
Upcurve your lips, widen your eyes
for inside the dreamscape,
my serpents thrive.
Arch your spine and lower your tongue.
Touch...
1378 reads
21 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by blue_angel