Tag Archives: #perfect

Eliza Shivered

Amidst the silver gleam of lunar grace, by the nightingale’s melodious sigh,
A tale of twilight’s embrace, in the realm of dreams, does lie.

Upon an olden, timeworn estate, Whose walls whispered secrets deep,
A figure wandered, cloaked in fate, as twilight’s lullabies did seep.

A heart, once vibrant, now subdued, by the memory of love’s sweet touch,
Could bear no more the weight, accrued, a lament, that echoed much.

Her phantom form, a gentle light, an apparition in the dusk,
eyes that shimmered, stars in flight, a memory, now turned to husk.

The melody, by Mozart played, weaved through halls, a soothing balm,
as the figure roamed, in darkness swayed, and longed for words, a healing calm.

“Eliza,” he whispered, in tender grief, as the shadows waltzed, in harmony,
“Is this my fate, a life so brief, Yet bound by your memory?”

A rustle stirred, a gentle coo, resonating through the haze,
He shivered, as the music grew, and gazed upon the moonlit rays.

There, nestled, with a tender air, a nightingale, dark and sleek,
Sang a tune, a melody rare, “Infinity,” it seemed to speak.

A spell was cast, a love-sick heart, held by the nightingale’s serenade,
Forever entwined, a work of art, in the embrace of twilight’s shade.

Thus lingers still, that tender verse, of love and loss, entwined,
where twilight’s songs, like moonbeams, disperse, in the depths of the dreaming mind.

:: 05.03.2023 ::

Poet’s Notes:

The poem tells a haunting tale of love, loss, and longing set against the backdrop of an old, mysterious estate. It is imbued with a sense of melancholy, invoking the image of a protagonist who wanders through the mansion, mourning a lost love.

The opening lines establish the ethereal setting of the poem, with the silver gleam of lunar grace and the nightingale’s melodious sigh setting the stage for a tale that unfolds within the realm of dreams. The imagery in the poem is rich and evocative, painting a vivid picture of the old estate and the figure wandering its halls.

The protagonist is described as once having a vibrant heart, now subdued by the memory of a love long gone. The pain of this loss is so great that it has become a lament echoing throughout the mansion. This lost love is embodied by the phantom form of a woman, her eyes shimmering like stars, her memory haunting the protagonist like a fading apparition.

The poem incorporates the romantic music of Mozart as a soothing balm that weaves through the halls of the estate, a counterpoint to the darkness that surrounds the protagonist. This music brings a sense of yearning for a healing calm, but the protagonist is still bound by the memory of his love, Eliza.

As the poem unfolds, a nightingale appears, symbolizing the tender, bittersweet nature of love and loss. The nightingale sings a rare melody, “Infinity,” reflecting the eternal nature of the protagonist’s feelings. This encounter casts a spell over the protagonist’s heart, which is held captive by the nightingale’s serenade.

In the end, the poem concludes with the notion that the tender verse of love and loss, like the twilight’s songs and moonbeams, lingers in the depths of the dreaming mind. The poem captures the essence of the human experience, exploring themes of love, longing, and the power of memory, all against the backdrop of a hauntingly beautiful, dreamlike setting.


It’s Happening

freeze framed ‘time’ broke all

inside my Soul /Only thing that
works is to mount you inside

my Mind~

the Pleasure is High
 goodbye bad dreams
i ate ice to freeze
 and would i? yes.
 i would /back there
that’s not me\ i grow
when you don’t see me.
 ice is cold dreams
you know i’m the One
who burns within :
  the Sun and me
have a pact to be strong.

:: 01.31.2023 ::
   


THE RABBIT FOOT BLEEDS WITHIN YOUR POCKET

WE HAVE NOT TIME TO LIVE OR DIE

WITIH all the terror and peril which flows on earth and water and air and fire of sex and battles and madness,
of torrid vengeance, seduction, and deadly revenge, Psyche lives to see the light of day:

And living in the light of the Pleiades, upon a small wooden chessboard with mushrooms While Mother Moon smiled AND
her logic in proportion to backwards 1.61 has with a human heart she coexists within the hearts of men and gods.

If you think you have read enough of my stuff, I have heard there is a ton more. I am currently hard at work on a book.

It is far too much for a single person to write. I could not believe it. No one would believe me anyway, but I do not
really care. One day it will all be done, and I will let you see how it is all put together.

Inside two covers held by infinity and answers to all questions.  I loved my mother.

:: 09.09.2021 ::


THE DREAMY WINTER SINGS

DREAMY winter singing winds
— I hear their chorus tonight
As laughing tendril-finger snows
click and dance in dipping ice-flows
upon my furnace-spice lips
What B-flat notes are tripping
running — stripping
across key-minor hearts…
Oh, so vying are your spasms
— my destined lust-bombs
exploding fire
— blue and green
reflection across the frozen
river of our hearts…

Comes the ice
and mixing fire
into the cauldron
of our lives

–::–