#calypso
everyday is a new knife
inserted into my side
burdened without your eyes
i want you on me like clothes
i need you to fasten my ropes
nobody else knows how i unfold
you grab me with conviction
i cannot resist your temptation
i bathe in you like vacation
do not leave me like calypso
do not wound me with arrows
i’ll be psyche you be eros
May 7, 2025
May 7, 2025 at 11:13 AM UTC
Today is wasted
Not like the others, it
Seems to have a revolution of it's own
Yet, the scent remains the same.
These muscles exude the sangria colored
Muck, these layers of filth jet out like lined walls of a prison cell.
Oh why do they retain this scent.
This cube of cubes I reside in
Where art thou mine Calypso,
How darest thou give teachings
As if your tragedy can give thoughts to we golems of rust.
Stick to staying stuck
Until these brittle cages carry no more
This gluttonous weight
Will we be songbirds once
More.
Aug 23, 2021
Aug 23, 2021 at 6:55 PM UTC
Let hold the absolute bearing
a keel held high and yet sound
above and beyond the sea caring
not to turn and too not, turn around
Although be wind and wild waves
holding of faces to sunrise and set
all stoic and somewhat demanding, brave
our jaws and our wills salty, and wet
The course and direction of valor
through eons of sail and of hull
pulling and settings of anchors
a life that's not staid and/or dull
Launch Auld Mug to the heavens
and pull the cord, at the main
forever in water's great mansions
that Poseidon remembers
our names
Sep 10, 2020
Sep 10, 2020 at 8:02 PM UTC
calypso withers away in a lonely island —
a blunder away from crumbling
at the sight of seaspray and empty towns.
sweet one, this isle is too small
for heartbreaks too big and soon enough,
gods and grecian men
and sad, sad, dead-eyed boys
will be greeted by a mayhem of sobs,
like flies dispersing off a dead body
held together by skin —
pale,
porcelain,
dead —
skin, stretched across these bones,
like the sea stretches across all of its sadness —
and ogygia, a lost isle,
disappears —
a speck of black in a shade of teal;
a pity your heart is not big enough for these sorrows
and not small enough to vanish.
and perhaps, betrayals do not come from
temporary lovers but from your skin
stretching, growing,
making room for years of blunders
until y o u are
n o
m o r e
but a name baptized in the wrong side of the war
and caught in a blunder
thousands of years too late.
it's been a long while;
the sun remembers your smile in his death bed, sweet one.
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 10:38 AM UTC
Entre le sac et le ressac
Ma muse nage nue
Au cœur des vagues
De neige immortelle
De la nuit tropicale.
C'est un mélange de sirène
Et de sauterelle
A la queue papillonnante bleue verte et grise
Qui plonge à intervalles réguliers
Dans le sauna des abysses
A la recherche des sources chaudes
Des volcans sous-marins
Où dorment les champignons sauvages
Et où paissent les rennes
En attendant le moka saveur airelles
D'un Petit Prince abscons portant masque, palmes et tuba
Qui danse la rumba cubaine.
Quand ma très chère se déhanche
Elle skie elle patine elle surfe
Elle nage elle plonge elle sue
Entre les battements de conga,
Les glissés et les déliés de son partenaire
Tout en tricotant des pas humides de calypso vierge
Ad libitum.
Sep 29, 2019
Sep 29, 2019 at 7:48 AM UTC
Ma Jalouse, Mon Unique, Mon Ultime
Sais-tu ce que Lord Invader, Sam Manning
Cyril Monrose, Charlie Parker, Louis Armstrong
Jack Sneed et Ernest Rangling
Sans oublier Blue Glaze Mento Band et Phil Madison ?
Et je m'arrête là pour l'instant,
Sais-tu ce qu'ils ont en commun ?
Eh bien vois-tu, ce sont tous mes ombres.
Tu ne pourras jamais me comprendre
Si tu ne les comprends pas
Et si tu ne sais pas ce que représentent pour moi
La mangouste et le raccoon.
De même que pour te comprendre il faut avoir lu tout Dostoievski
Pour me comprendre il faut avoir écouté tout Sly Mongoose
Car peut être n'as-tu vu en moi qu'aria et boléro, symphonie et concerto
Alors je t'explique : pour comprendre, n'essaie pas de philosopher
Lève-toi et bouge tout simplement et tu toucheras l 'essence
C'est du folklore, c'est du reggae, c 'est du mento, c'est du calypso, c'est du jazz,
C'est instrumental ou c'est vocal
C'est moi, mes ascendances et descendances.
Sly Mongoose c'est mes Frères Karamasov
Smerdiakov, Aliocha, Ivan et Dmitri
C'est mon Idiot, mon prince Lev Mychkine
C'est mon Joueur, mon Alexei Ivanovitch
Mon Rêve d'un Homme Ridicule
Et Raskolnikov errant dans la nuit dans Crime et Châtiment.
Sly Mongoose c'est l'histoire d'une mangouste maline
Qui a baptisé la fille du pasteur
De son eau sainte
Et qui fuit la Jamaïque
Et part à l'étranger
Après son forfait.
C'est l'histoire d'une mangouste qui vole les poules les plus grasses de la cuisine
Et qui les met dans la poche de son veston
C'est l'histoire d'une mangouste qui entre dans la cuisine d'un prédicateur
Et qui repart avec une des poules les plus grasses
Et tous les chiens savent son nom.
il s'appelle Sly Mangoose
Il est malin, il est vicieux, le compère
C'est mon ombre, que veux-tu
Et parfois pour échapper aux prédateurs
Il prend l'apparence de l'ombre d'un raccoon.
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 6:05 AM UTC
Half drowned in those wine dark eyes
drunk off those fermented words
that trickle off those lush rose lips
Calypso or Scylla, I know not
it doesn't even matter
as long as I am with you
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 11:20 PM UTC
calypso
the passing hours
the blooming flowers
speeding rapidly by us,
unrecognizable blurs
faster than our eyes can adjust
we know anything could occur
in the backseat
we feel the heat,
experience the bittersweet
no longer very discreet
the cavities in our chests
suggest a darker theory
we don’t want to test
as we range from cheery to dreary
eerie
weary
i have a lot to learn
on the path of no return
your inaudible concern
simmers into a slow burn
i tell you to go
all you say is no
call me cold
call you calypso
car rides are no longer entertaining
recently, this feels constraining,
stop feigning, theres nothing remaining,
nothing worth sustaining, it’s draining
we cannot communicate without
empty screens
empty stares
only adding to my doubt
falling out of love is like gravity
bringing me back down to earth
falling out of love is depravity
waiting for the rebirth
of feeling something again
i unhealthily think of you
every now and then
but ill pull through,
like calypso, you trapped me
in the middle of the sea
the only thing i could do was flee
i enjoy being free,
i have only regret
of the things ill never forget
like the curves of your silhouette
but I’m glad I’m no longer your juliet
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 5:11 AM UTC
Here, I sail to regions unknown.
On the tides of bliss, you are shown.
Your sweet strokes can calm my heart.
As fear and pain depart.
How the sun is dim to your smile.
West winds blow as I dream of the Isle.
For one day, we will lock our hands.
Upon the golden sands...
Writhe and roar! Sea and tempest grow!
Rise, my Dutchman! Rock to and fro!
Set the sails and man all the helms!
Postpone our journey's end.
Death ascends upon the throne.
As wild as I am alone.
Come to the sea, and cut through the waves.
Hurry to your watery grave!
And my love, who can't be restrained.
I will vow that I'll make you pay!
Drag them, bind them, take their souls!
And hear the death bell toll!
For my love, I gave you my heart.
So that we will never part.
Forever you were my always.
I'll set the sea ablaze.
How I've dreamed we'd meet on the lands.
Words of love have crumbled to sand.
For years, I drown with misery.
I want my liberty...
Unlike you, my heart isn't chained.
Hear my ***** feel my pain!
Lost and cold, my heart knows no rest!
Within this dead man's chest...
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 1:13 PM UTC
Her silence
Pierces tge ear drums
And makes introspective
equal easy
To predict her levee overflow
Is an art form
That many mouths water for
One must possess her
Body and soul
To truly empathise
With her
Tsunami
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 10:08 AM UTC
The Weary, they wander
Tempest-tossed
Onto my
Lonely shores,
Sailors with
Shipwrecked vessels,
Travelers grim with
Soles scraped sore
They seek to quell
Their solitude
Ill fated and alone,
And finding me
Beside the sea
Lamenting,
They postpone
I welcome them
With flames alight
Inside the hearth
Of my heart
Although I know
They never stay,
That soon they will
Depart
Every time that
One arrives
The feeling sprouts
Anew
He'll leave me
And I know it,
But there's nothing
I can do
I am Calypso, cursed
To long for love
That is unchanging
No solace rolls in
With the tide
The tempest, still,
Is raging.
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 1:40 PM UTC
Dearest, you who have moved with me
as the waves to the pull of the moon,
You are leaving me now.
I know I am not the only moon to your sea.
There is another who sways you to her tune.
Her name is scrawled in the furrows of your brow.
But the tears in your eyes and your heartache
Should they not be mine?
I who live on this island, immortal and alone?
You are leaving me a prisoner in your wake,
You with your talk of crooked highlands and fragrant pine
And rugged crags. Dangerous talk, I should have known.
Now I close my eyes and dream
Not of the sweetness of the cypress
Nor of familiar violet-eyed meadows,
But of birds that spin and gleam
high above the land's caress.
You have turned me into another Echo
Stupidly repeating the names of places and people I will never know.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 1:41 AM UTC
Chasten Calypso declared to be clear;
humming a mumble inside of mine ear.
Always heard, but ne’er understood,
a whisper so willing, decidedly good.
The rapture of doomsday is said to be near,
but an ounce of the evidence has yet to appear.
There are several factors that could end it all;
the pride of mankind is destined to fall.
Hastened Calypso declared to be clear,
rumbling a rumble, fueled by a fear.
Often forgotten, yet forever engraved;
those who are faithful have already been saved.
Dwindled and swindled, the man may soon ask,
“Your person is puzzling; take leave of your mask.”
Now the raven is calling, to bring out your soul,
but all you have left is a void with a hole.
With chastened Calypso declared to be clear
she is tumbling a bumble who’s drunken with beer,
and thought the cliff it is climbing is sharp, and quite sheer,
if the bumble dose stumble it won’t shed a tear.
Where we are looking and what we will find
is based in illusion we have made in our mind;
Always is heard, and is ne’er understood.
It’s a whisper so willing, decidedly good.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
let's you and I mingle with the tantalizing Sirens
their Song, so seductive, will distract you while I
lead Odysseus to our spacious secret cave
which-- I have newly prepared with Calypso's blessing
[I dare say she seems to have a crush on my Odysseus!]
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC