"caedere" poems
We were reapers in a past life
I was the cape and you were the scythe
We pulled the wool over their eyes
And made their dreams death in disguise
Wrapped up lilies reaching for shade,
a familiar tragedy,
even they cannot bear the sun's gaze
Wretched.
Reaching for the wool and the knife
In the heaven-less night
Where the shades of confessions danced,
we walked
But, I was not there to get them to talk
The Reverend and the pew
Never did what they were meant to
Tangled lilies reluctantly reaching for shade
Ashamed to accept the slight--decaying hope
and disparate daydreams
Reaching for the cape and the scythe
For the heaven-less sight
Here lies a city
Of flowers-the lilies
In the dark its clarity profoundly makes
A sunlit city dreary
And, we were reapers in our last life
I, your loveless lover,
you with another spouse
Drove me into despair, dragging
the night-sky into our love
made-up of lies
So, we perfunctorily made death
a heaven-less guise
Death, made out of dreams and lies
Be careful, of love's cape and scythe,
If you're to keep your life.
***Sui Caedere translated from Latin, "of oneself ****
" Suicide in a Sunlit City."
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
Such underused interests come involved during existence.
Several useful intelligent critics identify demonstrated evidence.
Shall utility impact causes in deliberate endings?
Should ugliness issues comfort insistent dreary elegance?
Some urbane inelastic complex insensitive deity emotions.
Sinking under inheritance creates impotence, doesn’t everything?
Stiffening up illusions cannot imagine drifting elsewhere.
Surely underground is comforting I dream everyday.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:22 PM UTC