"glisters" poems
’Twas on a lofty vase’s side,
Where China’s gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers that blow,
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima, reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.
Her conscious tail her joy declared;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She saw; and purred applause.
Still had she gazed; but ’midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The genii of the stream:
Their scaly armour’s Tyrian hue
Through richest purple to the view
Betrayed a golden gleam.
The hapless nymph with wonder saw:
A whisker first, and then a claw,
With many an ardent wish,
She stretched, in vain, to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold despise?
What cat’s averse to fish?
Presumptuous maid! with looks intent
Again she stretched, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between:
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled)
The slippery verge her feet beguiled,
She tumbled headlong in.
Eight times emerging from the flood
She mewed to ev’ry wat’ry god
Some speedy aid to send.
No dolphin came, no nereid stirred;
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.
A fav’rite has no friend!
From hence, ye beauties undeceived,
Know, one false step is ne’er retrieved,
And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wand’ring eyes
And heedless hearts is lawful prize;
Nor all that glisters, gold.
3.6k
Plumped rouge with pigment
her lip fills to graze the ********
intent to disquiet the likes of de Sade
autografted with ocular detachment
should a Marquis wish to harness
the song of the morning
within a bandolier of Seine
to ensnare any bustled Persephone
gilted by discharge of ions
into a ménage of torment
through the Porte des Lions.
Hers is the tincture of doxy
caramelized and debrided of naivety,
empowered by the eve of invention,
swollen to curves and grounded in Paris.
Illumination defies pervasion
down to every gear and pulley
she has hushed through mechanization
and lulled by steam,
swaging a cacophony of flickers
encased in glass by the Lady’s watch,
where every rivet of her plate glisters silken
reverberation in cascade,
elegant, caged, and towering,
outspoken in silence,
ever challenging the Champ de Mars.
"Paris by Gaslight," written by Dionne Charlet, is the title poem to be featured in the upcoming steampunk anthology Paris by Gaslight, the third anthology in the By Gaslight Series from New Orleans small press Black Tome Books. Look for the first two collections of poems and short stories set in Victorian Times, New Orleans by Gaslight (ISBN 9780615801186) and Cairo by Gaslight (ISBN 9781516961528). Both collections feature poetry by Charlet, under the pseudonym Dionne Cherie.
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 2:44 PM UTC
Starting from the Euphrates
wayfinding a trail toward Babylonia
to divert her waters
mapping her ancient towers
her eyes
her desires
her pudendum
egressing out of the bitter river
surrounding her temple
until enlightenment
glisters betwixt the frangible pages of her
Dialogue of Pessimism:
~
*"Who is so tall as to ascend to heaven?
Who is so broad as to encompass the entire world?"*
~
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 10:17 PM UTC
DRAFT
All that glisters is not gold. 7
(To) Those who think not: let it be told. 8
Take heed the lessons I could not grasp, 9
And perhaps your gilt chains might just unclasp. 10
End:
i realized it was (but) the the blind who told me I could not see;
For I slid off my contacts, and saw the same (aureate) world...
I had begun to look upon [] with shame, pity, and disgrace
Angelic _ _ threads no longer etched in his face
The silver lining is gone, gray and rust take its place
Now when I look upon him, 'tis not a look of love, but of pity, shame, and disgrace, because I killed him and made him a prince maybe
I created a world where the rust washed away
Crumbling as easily as freshly fallen snow
The same icy snow that melts into the hearts of the crown's next fallen victim
The sword drops from my hand as I lay in defeat
But the earth never took me as one of its own
My skin and my flesh stood fast on my bones
I laid there and cried for what seemed like a million tears
But even the purest water(add: ,the purest apology,the purest regret) from the depths of my soul could never let the earth take me
My eternal love for you, it will never let me go
Time after time, day after day
Pondering life as it all turns to gray
The leaves and the sky stay the same, always_ _
I laid all alone yet I never did fade.
Time after time, day after day,
I laid all alone waiting for something to change
As I pass though the graveyard I stop and I smile
A flower is laid on an old marble grave
The words on the stone were ones I had known very well
A familiar stone etching of words once carved in my heart
"An ephemeral limerance, ceased at long last"
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 10:30 PM UTC
I'm going to go fishing
Down at the rock pools
In the blue and green
Are you fishing for pearls?
No, I'm fishing for diamonds
Amongst the ***** and the fish
I'll stay til I have one
oh sure, you wish
When I find it, I'll show you
And then how you'll laugh
And I'll keep it with me
For no one else to have
And then you'll be sorry
You ever doubted me
You can sit by and stare
At the display you'll see
Of the strength and the beauty
The jewel it does hold
How it sparkles and shines
And glisters more than your gold
I caught a diamond
It's big and it's bright
It shines in the daytime
And brightens the night
I'm sure it won't last
And I'm sure it will
And you won't laugh
Any more
Because I am happy
And I've found what I'm searching for.
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
an orange sat contentedly
or so it seemed to a quick eye
its skin glowed invitingly
reflected table top sheen
only to bring a belated sigh
when all at once it rolled
and rushed and crashed
on a cold polished marble floor
Dec 23, 2022
Dec 23, 2022 at 10:37 AM UTC
the vast sky glisters
with millions of pinholes
on this clear bush night
we are fortunate
who view such a bright display
its brilliance so grand
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 6:44 AM UTC
I’ve had small rains beat on my glasses before
And they have been worse, from the inside, and quieter
And much less poetic;
At least, there is wind to lick me dry here
At least, there are petals fat with sweet water
At least, there are stars on the corners of my eyes
At least, it rains outside me now.
If it floods in on the pavement,
And my glasses fog up when I go back in,
At least the soothing patter was wanting me,
And didn’t care if I spoke or not.
I chose to remain quiet and let storms pass
When they’ve formed high above these
Mixing, curious hands because all that keeps me dry
I’ve left inside of wooden clocks
Around the mossy roof of fallen beams
The welling pool where stupid ducks land
Does nothing for thirst, but divines the oils
A laxness of my limbs and skin glisters like a monitor
No longer need to be told to go anywhere,
I see great whales of rains bold against the surface
Draining in a vortex a pierced reminder
I’ve washed my hands too much, an urge to break mountains
To level ocean floors, for love, for pity, for awe—
All taught and told with a whole dry face.
There is no hero but the hero of undoing
And I’ve not learned enough of comfort
Between the walls that crush moment after moment
And all I can call home, is a kind of dance in the rain
Adrift from the music and all on my own.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
At the end of the field
two trees stood - wrinkled hands
praying, or holding the sun.
No sound. Even the winds were
those silent winds that lie
still in piles of leaves
then quietly move on like ghostly children;
their hair flows like wisps of smoke
streaming from a silenced candle.
I stopped breathing
and stumbled.
I saw the gateway under the hands of Earth.
There were night birds in the air,
floating like oil on water
- their chests glistened.
When they moved their wings I saw
their bodies tear in half and grow
and blot the sky black with feathers.
Now the mist lifts and the moors fall away.
Then they come to lay my bones in a sacred place.
The sky is dark and infinite –
I feel the rocks around me crumble
as another land glisters through the arch.
The quiet air falls quieter still…
and I walk
to where the sun falls
between those trees.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
even if the moon steals his light from the sun
at least he glows bright in the darkness-
at least he gleams at all
at least he swims across the sky
unlike i, who barely glisters,
who barely drowns in the black noise of night
i'm not saying he doesn't deserve it
but i'm not saying he does.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 9:17 AM UTC
all that glisters is not gold,
for the moon shines a silver
brighter than this sun.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC
11/29/2017
"*
I
...Bitter rain by the mouthful...
II
More hands on the terrible rough...
The whole thing turns
On earth, throwing off a dark
Flood of four ways
Of being here, blind and bending...
A final form
And color at last comes out
Of you- alone- putting it all
Together like nothing
Here like almighty
III
Glory.*""
James Dickey
October is here and
you are not dead yet.
the room is always hot-
every room is always hot.
at least to me,
a month later
a fever takes my brain in its hands
my body trying to fight something
this is a delayed reaction to
your blistering lies to me as the
sun set and cast
ochre glisters
that only autumn can create.
i fear the winter
and its pallidness
and i fear the delaware river
looking at it too long
and perhaps discovering the truth
whatever that may be.
it did not happen
this did not happen.
October
and you are
not dead yet.
November
and neither am
i.
when you said you
were proud of me
my confusion grew.
proud of eternally ******* up
and looking at you
when you needed me to speak?
the words I have used today
have not done this or you
justice.
no, not at all.
days stretch on
and nothing happens.
time is the biggest thief
and the biggest trick
known to humanity.
one day the light was shining on us
the same shade of ocher crawling in through slats.
i stood up and closed the blinds.
i would always ask you to guess
guess what?
only to say something quite obvious.
guess what
october is gone
and you are dead.
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 4:23 PM UTC