"chatoyance" poems
Four walls; a pair of cupped hands.
Jaundiced like an open eye; an open cove
Prescribing solitude to those whom solitude cannot withstand,
And I choose this cold corner which is furthest from the door,
To be where I am not, before
Your proclivities become my own, I write. I write,
My window holds my breath and frosts the world,
The moon in his amber gown, dressed in chatoyance and spite,
Godspeed; dark, dark shroud for naked skies!
Six floors, walls, doors from you am I.
I couldn't write when the sun peered in,
Her inquiry evangelizing the specks of time left upon the glass -
I've heard it all before; God's shining face leaves none unloved (unseen)
but his spotlight has no starlet; so who can see me up here?
We can't see from windows, dear.
I'd live and sing for the cloudless hall
The nursery of misanthropists crawling on the grey cobblestone
And the lilt of the wind on the rose; through squares nice and small -
The peevish moth shudders at the sight of itself obscuring the day through the glass.
It seems we're always in the way.
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 5:40 PM UTC
That night we were perfectly irrational,
your mother spoke like Rhea in an ancient
Greek tongue. We straddled the mighty
Norton five-hundred and joked of Marxist revolution.
She tightened her arms on the ascent.
Danger flurried down our spines and palms
began to sweat. At breakneck speed we whipped
round snaking grey meanders along the cliff edge.
Our compass set in lunar chatoyance
the stars were squinting feline lovers
as the night light washed upon her eyelids,
lashed with jagged stalactitic silhouettes.
We coasted down a sandy path; emerging from the hills
where the shepherds’ ruby grins were the nights hue.
Hearts cast in iron and minds sat on sand,
the sky snapped pink to blue, to navy dogtooth.
The spider grass on the dunes, the mirage
of twisting dancers and sand storm pirouettes.
Full beams off, we’d blink and stand amazed,
that very trace of privacy at night
which leaves you dazed, for unlike the crowded
light of day which knows no heart nor wonderment
moonlight dances on the pier, and bounces off the waves.
My first born son who parts the fog and clouds
to carry primal thunder; I gift to you,
the joy of life, and beauty of the oceans wealth.
The sand will bed and water cleanse,
the tide will carry and coral mend.
Until you, La Pedarosa of the floating world,
may sail over those who tell of any boat
you cannot sink and any fleet you cannot fell.
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 8:05 AM UTC
*Not so many moons ago,
You and I in a star-ship
Flitting amongst stars, gallivanting
Whilst remeniscing of moments
Indelible moments trapped in time
Only flying-by, eloping to Elysium
Fancying fair lands
Lands pervaded with flowers
Flowers blooming in perpetuity
Lands with rushing rivers
Rivers serpentining with nector
Lands with novelty sea shores
Shores veiled with diamonds
Lands enveloped by lustrous stars
Stars painting words of desire
Lands with halcyon seas
Seas as smooth as a millpond
Lands where the only air
There is to inhale is love
Lands where love is woven by
A tapestry of truth not lies
Lands where love isn't bought by
Sapphires, Rubies nor Emeralds
Lands where all avenues
Are paved with green and gold
Lands where mountains
Are golden-capped
Distant was the journey
Though at length,
For what seemed a life time,
Our eyes feasted on
And from a distance,
There we gazed about her
In all her splendor
Ravishingly alluring yet resplendent
With all chatoyance
One could ever imagine of
Like any one else would,
At a speed of an eagle
Descending about her prey,
Fervently we gravitated
Only to touch down
Than when the luster about her
Had our vessel*
combusted to ash!
© Kikodinho Alexandros
4th Jun 2016
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC
maybe one day
25 years from now
when my mind isn't so dull
and my trees aren't so bare
and my throat isn't so numb
I'll conjure up enough words
free from disfluency and stutter
that capture moments
like the ******* model 20.
Efflorescence or
Chatoyance or
Gossamer
will coin it all,
And I'll write them on parched paper
with solid gold ink and
seal it
so the words never escape me again.
But until then, let's just go with love.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 10:11 AM UTC
she was not in love with me though she
was the entire world to me thus she was
really all I craved which was not only really
amazing but excruciatingly amazing
like rays of the dawn sun, like
the rose in bloom and all the
colors of our love seemed all colors
of the neon rainbow with all chatoyance of
the polychromatic sunset thus the
golden moments us gazing at the golden
edge of the horizons, the beauteous edge
of the moon in the night sky, the luster of
the stars, all keep echoing to me but strange how the
horizon about her starry eyes wasn't a real horizon
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 10:02 AM UTC