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Celtic Lass Jul 2014
crescent moon ascends
with cheshire smile the night grins
darkness scoffs at us
Celtic Lass Jul 2014
twilight rain spatters
morse code of vitality
parched plant's s.o.s.
Celtic Lass Jun 2014
"Someday death will take us to another star."
                 ~~Vincent Van Gogh

Painter paint star-spattered-pathways--purple passion patterns;
Grant me glimpses of immortality in indigo inspirations,
Guide me through galaxies glued inside translucent eyelids
With pulsating ivory globes.

Ascending into your astral aspirations,
Fractured atoms crumble into cerulean strings--
Unimpeded by crawling speed of light,
Suspended, momentarily held by moon's golden blood.

Hurtling throughout cobalt cosmic chaos,
Catapulted into vermillion vortex,
Realms rescinding into realms,
Macrocosms into macrocosms--malleable meldings.

Absorbing ancient ancestral dust,
Ten times ten thousand particles emblazened;
Universal union--super-nova soul's rebirth.....
Adrift within a Van Gogh sky.
This piece was inspired by legendary artist, Vincent Van Gogh's painting,
"Starry Night."
Celtic Lass May 2014
footsteps darting down the stairs--


Fingertips of night smudge and smear their ebony gloss streaks
Down dusty, grimy glass--
Swallowing your spectral image
In the glazed glow of neon-rainbow billboards.

A twenty-first century Lancelot, you don your callousness
And self-loathing like a tarnished suit of armor--
On a chilviarous quest to save two-hundred-dollar Nocturne Ladies
                                                   From drug-primed pimps....
                                                   T h e m s e l v e s.....
                                                    But--n o t  from you!

Passions fire, and my love, follow you
Through myriads of abandoned, midnight alleyways,
And already I have squandered the ghosts
Of your deceptive warmth, and poisoned promises.

The heaviest of down comforters
Fail to cease my chills
And I am as bloodless
As before your first lethal kisses.

Your inevitable absence is the deep burn of frostbite,
Your eventual return an addiction--
The relief insatiable neuralgia--
                         I  c r a v e  your presence.

Your vanishing is like slicing away strips of my skin--
The carving, and cutting release a chronic, arctic cold
That confronts me from within my crystalized soul....  
                           I freeze, and die,  e a c h  time you leave.


From within the hollow of our bed
The mist of a heroine-induced haze rises--
Enfolded in the memory of your lingering lust, I slip
between the sweat-soaked sheets, and pain-drenched pillows....

Longing...promising...hoping...that I'll be  gone--t o m o r r o w.....
Waiting...bargaining with the darkness...listening to.....


your footsteps stumbling up the stairs.............
Sometimes--relationships are simply mutally-enabling.....T O X I C I T Y
Celtic Lass Jun 2014
We sat in quiet whispers--resigned and frozen
To the wrought-iron slats--shoulders touching,knees barely bumping,
Shivering in the sojourn of our anxious intentions...
We were in default wait mode
And it was the waiting that tinged the tension.

You referred to me as your Jaded Juliet--
Impulsive innocence of perfect porcelain,
Protected within my world of privilege and power,
All feigned sophistication at fourteen.

I regarded you as a renegade--
A rouge in Romeo's guise aloof, unattainable;
I longed for your street-smart savvy swagger,
Thought of you as my iron-hearted hero at fifteen.

We huddled with few words--motionless for hours,
Wrapped in false facades of our uncomfortable indifference...
Feelings and fingers  entwined in the fantasy realms
Of our imagined lust and nervous satisfaction.

My head at war with my heart--fidgety and flustered,
In that feet-twisting,breath-hitching moment of madness,
With the cold creeping into my words of nauseating embarrassment,
I brandished them as loud, unweildy weapons of awkward....

I blurted out "I  l o v e  you," and meant it,
To sodium arcs reflected in your copper eyes--
Staring transfixed, as brilliant uncirculated  pennies--
Marveling at the 297 ways to make change for one dollar,
But absolutely no way to alter those words.

Suspended--swirling, and writhing like wraiths--
They floated as feathery plumes of breaths ...
Within the icy, silver stillness,
The scheduled snow fell as the hush between us.
( For A.J.---wherever he may be.....)
Celtic Lass May 2014
Your mica eyes
****** their sinister gaze--
Grim and glowering--
Gouging into gaping heart-wounds
To commence continuous fresh ooze
Dripping from festering, unhealed centers.

Your darkened desires
Derive insidious pleasures
Watching the writhing and wasting--
The squirming of my weakening spirit;
You grin at the gruesome handi-work
Of your impaled butterfly.

The brilliant brevity
Of my soul's prismatic patterns,
Exsanguinates in frantic, futile beatings
With shredded, useless wings--
Faint flutterings fade into memories;
Anguish appeases from silent screams
To inevitable fatal numbing....

                                ( Release me--
                                   P L E A S E--
                                    I need to soar!)
For what are we if our very souls be held captive...we are as an impaled butterfly---unable to soar, our spirit weakens, and dies....

— The End —