"foretokens" poems
Eyes the color of burnt wood
Hair a glow of dying embers
Skin pricked and stiff --
No more blush,
No echoing heartbeat.
All foretokens of a fire long extinguished.
it started slowly --
growing inside, never stopping.
no matter temperatures warm
or blankets thick,
the ice blossomed like a spring flower.
flourishing with each shiver.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
White happens to be very bright
White happens to be compound,
Dirt leaves no stains on white,
The sound of cymbals — white sound.
There are many shades of white,
Symbols, foretokens and meanings.
Brides strive after bliss in white
In London, Belgrade and Campinas.
White dove is a symbol of peace.
White flag means cessation of arms.
They grieve in white clothes for deceased
In Tokyo, Shanghai, Sasaram.
Women pick their partners themselves —
These immutable rules of white dance.
There’s no habit to be in the row —
It’s not easy to be a white crow.
A lot of nuances: pearl, opal and ice,
White night and white whisper and usual rice.
Noble ivory, creamy, vanilla and grey.
Unreachable, mystic and far Milky Way.
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 3:52 AM UTC