Category Archives: Poetry

by the sea (poem)

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my mind it seems

has wrought a million lines

all thought

is centered round

you and

when no more words

come pouring out

i seek

a peaceful cove

to hide myself

where i can watch

the sea as it

endlessly

bathes the shore

and i dream

of you as i feel

the warm waves

caressing me

as you once did

and i find

comfort knowing

that once before

we loved.

and as the sea

returns forever

in tireless innuendo

courting a still shore

that yields

no more than but

few grains of sand

each time

i yield with each return

a little bit of me

until

no more is left

to yield

after an eternity.

 

Sonnet VIII (poem)

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on moonless nights as this i find

in aimless flights of dreams, my mind

and though a million thoughts cruise by

the last one ever makes me sigh

i’ve dreamt of hills and mountains tall

greens and plains, i’ve seen them all

the moon and stars are common sights

likewise the sun with brilliant light

on earth the sweetest songs i’ve heard

and all but one were sung with words:

all haunting tunes of love-worn lines

that fade too soon with passing time.

the sweetest song if ever true

all nature sings when i’m with you.

Concert (poem)

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softly plays

the music as i

lie in the dark

waiting

and soon the madness

begins as i

quiver with every

chord struck

my body tensed

like violin strings

feeling

your symphonies of

unbridled passion

playing over me

like nocturnes

gently, slowly

mounting to a

frenzied crescendo

of deafening

scales chromatically

rising

an octave higher

each time until

the notes strike

fortississimo

in a second that

lasts

for eternity

it seems

the strings should

break as they

dance with the

melody till

ever so gently

in diminuendo

the passion subsides

and plays adagio

again, ever so

softly as in

a whisper

engulfed by darkness

the movement

reaches coda.

 

Reunion (poem)

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so

here i sit

another night

slowly passing

creeping with the seconds

towards another day

recounting

memories of

you

dreaming

as on a mistral vessel

floating

o’er a sea of

passion spent and

past reckonings

fading

in the mist

in vap’ry clouds

of moon-forgoten

dew

rising

as only

you can cause them

to encircling

minds fogged

with

unspoken lines of

musk-scented

emotions

shackled

by unyielding norms

created by

pickled

brains beyond

the shadows of

shadows free

dancing

rejoicing

o’er birth of

eternity merging

pulsating with

slivers of

reality

sparkling

reflecting

an image of

my love.

Narcissus (poem)

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so like the fair Narcissus.

 

with trembling fingers

numbed as though

’twere marbled features

they traced —

the chiselled profile of

bones so finely wrought

that accent a brow so fine

and cheeks so sharp

against a jaw so firm;

what thickly lashed

mysterious pools of black

that reflect a haughty glint,

and such a mouth

that marbled though

exudes a warmth

that lures me as

there my fingers stop, moist.

what mystic marble

from what land begot

are you carved from,

that breathes as man,

and in my arms

is warmer than a furnace?

what steely strength is it

that through your fingers

courses, that causes me

to bend, inferior to

your might though

like a summer breeze

you blow?

what strange alliance have you

with what gods in

distant peaks —

perchance

the strength of

Hercules’ smith

or is it Eros’ breath?

nay, Hermes has but lent

his wings that swift

your words fly home

to me and i

am snared within

your arms and helpless

in your sight —

but for your beauty and

your charms i

would not with Echo vie.

 

have you no moment but

to spare than but

to gaze

at your reflection?

ah, vanity, thy name is man!

what then can women serve?

 

so like the fair Narcissus,

would that you were

my love.

Untitled (poem)

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so, can i liken thee to one so fair

who wields what bow for sport

whose image as from marble carved

seems in its perfect beauty, live

 

so live in me with thine words

as only thou can whisper

or set my heart with fiercest blaze

with thine enchanter’s eyes.

 

My Lord Neptune (poem)

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’tis strange indeed

that times come when

i am beset

with emptiness

it seems

no words can rightly say

what feelings i feel

within me

as mind and heart

are in turmoil

i seek

silence in an empty room

and find it haunted

with madness —

the madness that besieges me

when i think of you —

just as my being,

though empty

is haunted by

what?

’tis restlessness

that strikes me

o’er again

a relentless surging

of nameless waves

against a silent shore

that with the ebbing

empties itself

from an eternity of

defenseless sands

to an eternity of

turbulent tides

raging.

i find myself

wavering between sand and sea

in futile struggle

to keep dry

and yet

i long to yield

to Neptune’s embrace,

that though i

can no longer scale

the highest peaks in

my quest for peace,

perchance

the Lord of waves

shall suspend me

between sea and sky

and let me be borne

on drenched pillows of

rising clouds

to stars’ abode

where all seems

calm.

De Profundis* (poem)

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(*lat. “from the depths”)

 

 

so night has passed again

and morning breaks anew

as in the solemn daybreak

i watch the last stars

lingering in the salmon sky

pitting their pale glitter

against a sun reborn

that slowly, softly

creeps into a world

deep in slumber

where visions of the night

delay departure

even in my mind that though

witnesses the birth of light

still floats in a fetal dreamworld

of warmth and darkness

where throbbing hearts seem

merged as one sharing

one breath

until

even my mind’s refuge is

violated by the piercing light

and through swift channels of

infinite forces my mind

emerges into a world

yet like a dream as i

remain aloft on unseen waves

challenging whitecaps of madness

that come surging in with the tide

and finding myself

borne ashore where i lie

warmed by the sun’s rays

caressing me as a loving hand might

with the sea forever returning

in a spray as kisses

showered in the secret of

a locked room while

with each return the warm waves

lap my side hungrily

as though desiring to

consume me —

to drown me in its warm embrace

and as i find myself pulled

into its briny bosom

i yield to its

insatiable passion

and close my eyes as

its clammy fingers wrap

around me,

playing over me and

as i tremble

the sea and i merge

in a consummation of

darkness as

day succumbs to night.

 

A Poem

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where words unmatched mingle

blending themselves rhyming

catchy, lilting, light and singing

talking of trivialities, appealing

skipping, hopping, words a-playing

swinging, sliding, sinking floating

words that soaring high announcing

splendid marvels not once

repeating, speaking of sun and all beneath

and all above and within;

a tale of life, a tale of woe,

a tale of strife, we can forego;

a verse of nature, lines of love,

hymns and psalms to God above;

where words unmatched meet world unmatched

a poem is born, I am.

Dirge (poem)

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Slowly, slowly, drums beat soulfully

echoing, echoing drum beats mourning

slowly, soulfully, echoing in mourning.

Softly moaning flute’s notes wailing

wailing softly, slowly echoing in haunting melody.

 

In moonlit glade do shadows fall

cast long and solemn amidst trees tall

with limbs outstretched toward muted sky

that hears their pleas — and gives no reply.

 

Trees sigh.  The sky seems not to hear the wind

whose haunting tunes are snatched

by outstretched limbs that seek a tune

that though forlorn, when offered, soar on, skyward bound.

 

What sound! To melody, mute sky replies

in rage — or is it echoed sighs?

What tirade sky does vent on trees: —

is it the answer to long-raised pleas?

 

Like silver tresses hanging loose,

the sky’s outpouring changing hues

with every fiery bolt of light,

from heavy limbs that seek the shelter of the night.

 

And finally, finally, the clamor sinks slowly,

hushing itself and echoing meekly

the steady rhythm of skins pulsating,

seemingly calling, from a distance hailing,

 

enticing from hidden corners the echoes of drums

that slowly, slowly, beat so mournfully

echoing, echoing, in endless mourning

slowly, soulfully, echoing the mourning

of enamored soul left long to wandering.