Spell

How long can yearning satisfy a reckless host?

I drink my reflection from your exasperated pupils

Wondering if the spell will surrender your name.

I am not indifferent to the depth

Of your primal sentimentality

And I have more passion than I have shame

For there is nothing I wouldn’t do

To strip the rind shrouding your heart.

(Bitter is not the only flaw inherent in poison)

It would be such a tragedy to die before you

That you might wake with only the reminder

Of what once was a lifetime of pivotal conjunctions

The only thing you can believe is that the fire

Spares no man his curiosity

But it is a small price to pay for love.

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Photo Challenge #51 – Dark Ritual

Laura Makabresku

 

You fetch a murder,

Unsuspecting doves

Painted in unison

We might start

With only a single thread

Held in the infamous curve

Of that disastrous cradle

And if your veil

Is as black as mine

It might take a lifetime

To understand

One anothers’ pain.

 

If I ask you first

Will we make it

Through the next audition?

Shame chaperones love

And if not for your eyes

I would never have known

A depth as inhospitable as this

Rejection is continuous

When estrangement

Has taken hold

Of the individual roots.

 

There is a séance

In your out-stretched hands

My demons leap

From the syncopation

Of our conjoined veins

Go ahead and euthanize

These metastatic shadows

If you press a little deeper

You’ll find much the same.

For

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/03/10/photo-challenge-51-dark-rituals-march-10-2015/

Heeding Haiku With HA: Jack Kerouac

1

Cast off stilettos,

A star-crossed stumble

Through an open flame

2

Sunlight streams

Through the cracks

Of my slackening fist

3

A mirror, in revulsion, cracks

To whom should I address

My questions now?

*

I wanted to do more and may later but I am struggling to find my words at the moment. I am inspired to write and stuck at the same time, just too much competition in my head!

 

For

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/01/28/heeding-haiku-with-ha-jack-kerouac/

Score

My heart, a collapsed halo,

Upon which your bony fingers

Still impatiently drum

An abacus plucking out

Invisible adversaries

For us each to overcome

=

This poem is fictional and also short. Lately my poems have all been woefully short. I am even more scattered-brained than usual which scarcely seems possible.

Mask Snippets

1

I wanted so much

To dismiss you

To avoid the regret

Of my heart crushed

Under the weight

Of your fictitious organs

2

I could never

Fit inside of you

A closet locked

From the inside

And I

Feared the prayers

That if answered,

Would grant me

Access

3

Superimposed

My aorta feeds

Directly into your ego

I habituate my dialogue

To your paranoia

A stranger

Growing stranger

And stranger with time

I cover the mirrors

Denying the occupancy

Of these impassive features

To my dynamic infrastructure

4

A reliable suicide

A cocoon of denial

Authored

By an autonomous pen

A hand-drawn mask

Lies or does it?

Don’t our defenses

Say just as much

About who we are

As our face unframed?

5

Is it insignificance

That I fear

The possibility

That the face behind

A well-placed mask

Is nameless

Remarkable only

In absence

6

Human or beast

It makes no difference

The greater the intellect

The more pervasive

The needs

And sometimes

The instinct

To survive

Is the instinct

That kills

=

I have a mad case of chaos head so my thoughts are all over the place

Disposable

My instincts cannot comprehend

The necessity of affectation

They implore me to drink

Even as I stand before you now

Drunk on the nuance of your exhale

*

I study you under a sodium vapor lamp

A love, that on entreaty would destroy

My tongue tampers with the dimensions

Of your smile, wondering if a promise could

Be suctioned from your failing lungs

Like a child’s petulant cry for mercy

*

I prefer the invention of romance

To its application, some moments

Become astringent when held

Too long against the palate

*

The suspicion of maneuver

Tears tenderly at my heart,

But my pride is not forthcoming