"arenaceous" poems
Trapped in a cage with golden bars of light
Of ancient habit and direful duties;
Below the water crashed into the bight,
The whispering waves baiting with beauties.
But her shadow lurked around the coast,
Dashing her to the beach like drifting wood.
Preventing her from what she wanted the most
To reach new shores from where she stood.
She wanted to travel and sail the open sea
Beyond the shingle, seaweed and shells
Closer to the horizon where the birds flew free
Or to the arenaceous ground in diving bells.
And coming back to where she started
She found her seaside changed since she has parted.
Or did the widening horizon change her perceiving?
For returning was not the same as never leaving.
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 10:37 AM UTC
The dawn has this texture
Of long endured pains
With perfume of silent dusks.
For how long will the wind venture
Between long forgotten remains,
With scent of violent dusks?
The rain has this arenaceous texture
When there aren't any eyes to cry,
The silence is a mild creature,
A friend if needed, but still a lie...
And the shadow blinded my senses.
My feelings on Procust's bed
My mind destroying fences
Of the uncouncious, of the dead.
The pain within me tear apart
The innocence and my heart
Into millions of serpents
Devouring each other,
Creating Chaos -
And many other
Molecules of poison
Are released in the air,
Despite my crying and dispair...
Have you tasted?
My weakness have this texture
Of salty vapors in the sky,
Or a peace of the black eye.
...and a perfume of a departed soul -
Somewhere, far from human senses.
Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 6:03 PM UTC