Oh, Luna
Carrier
Take my serenade
If this earthly love escapes
Then loving doors forbade!
Come, send my plea
Whilst I trace her constellation
And you, both
Hidden from mine eyes
Trace her hand, her heart, her eyes
To the other’s harmonization
If but for one night
Pity me, or give my heart
To her
The one, I know it true,
That you and I, Moon,
Both smile upon.
She whose eyes
Like lunar seas
So deep that hide such mystery
Whose hair enwraps my world
Like many-a brown meridian
From top to bottom
With energy
From end to world’s end.
Whose shadowy nature
Like paradox
Alights with creamy luminescence
To outshine her companion stars
And rears my gaze Heavenward
And implores my footfall north
To cross infinity on cadence and tune
Wishing to be where she stands
Her sublunary perilune.
Oh, I’m mad, I’m mad
Poor, Moon my only ear
For you are not the woman
Whom I wish, this song, to hear
And yet I dream
Beneath the Moon
Which I hope she dreams into
That this dream
Beneath the moon
Is one she dreams of too.

No,
Don't stop being perfect
If even in dreams
And known only to me.

A ****** countryside
Beneath the charcoal grey,
Whose bottom is alight
Shrouds the valley,
Blanketed in snow
Still and cool and quiet.
Gentle snowflakes kiss my cheek
Sitting fireside, with hominess
Warmed at the hearth of the sky
Hushed, the world, laying asleep
From holy halls, their lullabies
Smile, do the elements,
Their dream is what has become.
And so it is,
A dream, a dream,
Though I am awake
These little souls, their lanterns bright
Hold me to the end, across an endless earth
White in winter’s hollowness
I dream of you for all it’s worth.
Brave, must I, the motherly whitened path
And dream of distant you—
It keeps me warm, fireside
I thank the treasures, soul supplied.
My hearth is cold
With none to share
The brilliance of a chaste expanse
With none to help me stare.
I have a long way to that hearth
That I’ll call my own
The souls, the winter—Carry me home!
Soon, we’ll go
Your hand in mine,
Hearts akin,
Accoutrements of clothed embrace
We’ll go, so soon
Once I’ve stepped from this dream,
To have heated hearth of our own.
But now, I can’t
I follow the souls’ little lit lanterns
Through the valley in the snow,
I go alone,
In their solemn palms
As they carry my lost one home.

You are a dawn
Vibrant, full of light
Behind ebon clouds
In the middle of the night.

When my hand passes along your breast
—Your swooning tremors translated—
Done and quiet and motionless
Our appetites full and sated.
Nothing, no passion beats
Nor does heart sing of a bond
Mere means to untied ends
Cursed, that, to never go beyond.
Laying there, as you quake with delight
No feelings that burst
Try as I might
But, jewelry feigned and worn so prettily
Though you are not the first.
Wander oh, Wanderer
Through fields of cut-and-dry
And ponder oh, Ponderer
What it means, her and I.
Feelings professed in autumnal halls’ rain
True Heart’s contents gifted
Turned bed-pleasures again.
Is this then Love?
My mattress stained?
Is this then Love?
To entreat desires again?
My tongues are sincere, motivating that art
Painted with blood
Strained right from my heart.
But, perhaps, mine is a bad art
So prudish, so straight
Where her brushstrokes are cherished
Not the brilliance of her paint
Perhaps, then, I’m chasing
Pure metaphor
To find Love and love
Is what Lust is for,
So, then I lay empty
With misty dreams and starry eyes
My loving hands not deferred
But outright denied.
How can we, in what sense,
In Love’s definition confide?
To prove it’s only a metaphor:
Not literally applied.

I cannot feign the hate have men
For Winter’s barrenness
Dull and brown are hill and fen
But, oh, I cherish this.
How grey, empty the winter sky
Bitterly watching the Springtime die.
But bare, the wash, as painter’s pallet
And canvas cleaned anew
It lacks obstruction and blots of paint
From plumes of trees up high;
It opens up, so beautifully
Without undue or blotchy dye.
What’s more creative, liberating
Than perceptions’ application
Upon the canvas of winter portraits
Of open sky ruminations?

The wind that roars and shatters the night
Kills solace, this, and peace, that
What little balm is here for me
Is torn away
By the Wind.
Metal twists and whines out loud
These walls are bowing in
To entrap me like a seed
Encloséd hard
By the Wind.
Impassioned, is this wind-wracked night
Full of sadness, love, and spite
The wound inflicted long ago
Made gangrenous
By the Wind.
I see chains that shake and choke
Where their sleep is unpleasant
Bound by hands that do not touch
And laughed at
By the Wind.
There, those chains in brunette hair
And blue eyes and silver tongue
Turned away and turned back
Vivid life enforced on me
By the Wind.
Closer and closer the wind pushed walls
The farther you are away
The tightness, oh solitude
Your cadence carried
By the Wind.
The wind, the wind dissects the very earth
I split, it splits by loss of harrowing trial
The chasm it makes, pure anger bursts forth
I feel the distance as it grows,
An adult wound, mile by mile
We’ll soon be foreign people
Breathing foreign airs
So be it! I say, just let me rest,
You just keep walking from my mind
Blown back again, festering,
Blown back again
By the Wind.