"mirk" poems
your gloom rubies roam the miracle, miraculous; lasting orange in the parlor of our most red wednesday... your mood blooms in the parlor of our most red Wednesday
in convolution, bathing everywhere in discrete voluptuous, nocturnal by day and dawn purged. a complete confusion of unique bliss and utter distraction,
masking the perfect lonesome of lost buttons.
to magnify the utter not so !
and not so
at all !
Mab is the Queen.
you float on black goats. fallen. small feet in fleece of midnight. star lit.
your imminence faire beyond pondering. Literally.
you are dreamt intensely.
you leave me as empty as a horn of plenty [ enigma ]
where you. And you alone; have spread
your feast.
you float on white lichen and baby's breath,
churning the waters of auguries
too lovelorn to be well met, but yet, they sustain life
at just that pitch
that forks
the road
there ! you glow in the mirk of my desire. gilded in shadows
far too fierce for the sun's darkside
there !
you abide in
nameless
wisp
your heart, Fey
and indolent.
and your
throne
cats !
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 6:56 AM UTC
The sands become my tomb
As I lay staring
At natures mirror
Memories invade my gaze
The mirror depicts a face
Staring back
Is this the face of the man I was?
Or the glare of the stonecut man
That I've become?
Etched from marble
Or maybe granite
By the horrors it's seen
This sandy grave consumes me
And my glare turns upward
Inflection of this mind begins
The mirk above does not churn
It does not waver
And I realize I'm alone
The Vast reflects back at the stonecut
Mirroring the emptiness
In his eyes and soul
The realization of internal emptiness
Is deafening in the silent night
Has revenge done this to me?
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
Keep the fire bright as stars
singe their hairy feet clean
a Hobbit is bigger then a rabbit
and three times as tasty
The best kind are near Mirk Wood
they are plump juicy and yummy
and as you put them to flame
they inadvertently call for mummy
Oh what joy on dark trollish evenings
to share a morsel or two with friends
eat those Baggins squirming kind
saving their chubby legs to the end
Come toast a hobbit with me
they do as well as chicken
see how many your tummy
will if you try hard to fit in
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 1:37 PM UTC
See my spiral for how she rendered it
(sonnet #MMMMMMCCXXXVI)
Ya. Lean upon the porch rail as night's dense
Black--does it twinkle with ah, stars? nor hail
The mirk none pass through, just my brother. Pale
As Au Revoir where all else sleep from hence,
Lo, how--what ist? Hark! For the train calls thence,
Its whistle breaking this cold silence' tale,
And think now, of how I'll lose all ist? frail
Against the metal lacework, sans defense.
Turn back indoors to clean the mess we'd stir
In babysitting. Wooden tracks a crew
Of Brio traincars clattered oer in tour
Half like what deeply rumbles past, aye to
A fault, my brother saying "a real train--" Were
I numb too long oer Mum? Or swear I knew?
01Apr17b
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC
High above the teetering mast
A shout long awaited is heard at last
"Land ** Land ** Straight ahead"
Across the sea, the mariners sped
The mass of land, close in range
Ominously, the winds have changed
The ship drops anchor a hundred yards out
Rowing in without a doubt
Making landfall, the ****** cheered
A great appraisal to Brown Beard
Gallivanting, their songs sung loud
Roused, the sea soughed
Ripping from the strenuous tides
The monster emerges, the sea divides
Crashing down upon the ship
Fearful men tighten their grip
Threshing about as the beast descends
Into the depths where the mirk never ends
Duped, the mariners take their last breath
Inhaling, the seas grant them their death
Bloated corpses resurfacing
The dubious island repositioning
Full, the gulls await
For the next to take the bate
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 8:44 AM UTC
My body a float, my ships ablaze
drifting into the last whisps of haze.
I stare into the sun
and feel it glare right past me.
Wind whips my face, hair adrift in mirk
I think back to when that devious smirk
sent me away
and doomed all of my men...
The sand gripped me back, on the beach of my birth
twas the first step I took, into the future, inevitable dearth.
Doomed from the start
but far too blind to see
There on her pedestal, she once was my queen
this far from the shore, her gaze has no chains on me.
twas the hero of yore
absent my name, in the lore
The villain she made me, the destroyer of homes
wasting innocent people, a case of Fomes
has tainted my heart
and wilted me from the inside
Irreparable the damage of that Asp in the sand
holding me close, promising her hand
and cast me away
cast me away
cast me away
Sickly and venom-ridden, my soul and my mind
dreams of the woman who I must soon chide
I float in the mirk
Apollo wont watch me now
I pray to a god, in hopes I catch ear
and am given a chance to return from here
return from here
hand wrapped around spear
cast away away from home
into parts unknown
dying cold in the waters
most stranger to me
most stranger to me
most stranger...
Dear gods hear my plee
give me one last chance
to exact my revenge
and pay my way home
down straight into hell
with her head in my hands
Shallow eye-light guiding my way
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 4:08 AM UTC
Thou, dishonorable Highlan' skellum,
Thy dreary whunstane shall not see again!
Nor thy unworthy Clan Banner,
Yet my Blade!
Yet my Blade!
Gleaming here, owre,
At auld Stirling Bridge,
Wi' fiery bluid imbued,
Graving still deep mirk stane,
Under yon Steel Glare
Ne'er to wane!
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 3:20 AM UTC
It's when the lights fall low,
Fall behind the mirk.
Myriad shades arise,
In the darkness of the night they lurk.
The shades your mind behold,
Your eyes, lips and heart.
In the stillness of the night,
Their blended conspiracies part.
None fail to confess,
The secrets they possess.
The secrets all men crave for,
The night, on your door it pour.
Love and it's essence,
The renaissance cognisance.
A sensation, a concealed truth,
All lie before a sleuth.
Into the nothingness you stare.
A familiar tinge you share,
With all the shades of the night.
A serene, pleasing despair.
As you pave deeper,
It spread it's arms to greet.
All the secret shades of men,
It shares every deceit.
How familiar it seem to be,
Once you surrender to the night.
Bit by bit it drips till you submerge,
In the sea of endless smite.
For far too long you've heard,
The hustle of the daylight.
Least for once hear the unheard,
Hear the silence of the night.
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 3:03 PM UTC
It's not that I can't love,
That I can't pay a little more attention to the beauty you spread all around the mirk,
The happiness you bear,
The glow you posses that even the brightest of the stars feel dull,
It's not that I can't love a women full of grace,
Where people come and go leaving traces and traces of memories,
Where we swim alone in the oceans anticipating that someone might be swimming right there just to save us,
Where we dive deep believing that someone will dive with us,
Where the sun hide behind the horizon of broken hopes,
The moon behind the broken trust,
It's not that I can't love,
It's just that I don't.
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 8:24 AM UTC
Faster, faster through the dark, through the night.
So dark that vertigo hits,
I lose my feet,
There is rock all but in front.
Where has my beacon gone,
Has it fled from sight?
Why would it leave me on such a night.
I stand and move, i will always improve,
But i can't,
To move forth is too difficult,
I fall to the side,
Rock splits my skull,
A ships great hull, all is lost.
To focus is to hurt,
To let go, drown in the mirk.
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 3:38 PM UTC
She blows the soft smoke gently away
sitting on her windowsill, the third floor
the darkened horizon melts drowsily
leaving its mysteries to her own heart
as it is not full enough of the madness
She rises slowly with the sweet smoke
turning her head towards the mirk sky
what is there to see, in her own world
closing the eyes to travel infinitely far
as the honey is melting in the tepid tea
She throws her glass of wine away
she smiles and cries as nobody sees
the darkness, deep and cruel but sweet
as is her heart, dark, but yet so soft and kind
painful and hateful, yet so loving and forgiving
mad and crazy but so deeply understanding
Why only the crescent comprehends
only the stars listen to the quiet melody
the songs of love and pure wistfulness
she knows everything but is scared of living
as the world is not kind, instead, it is cruel
the fear, the unknown, the failure of life itself
She puts her finger in the darkened wine
and draws a line on the wall with blood
enjoying the sadness and loving to hate
She likes to be alone, alone, sweet world
You, always alone in your deeds and thought
She sees from far, a distant closeness engulfs
only art saves the heart, only beauty consoles
the crescent starts to fade slowly and softly
many of the clouds swim towards their path
covering the moon and leaving her lying
Withering away as in the mind of destruction
where everything can make a nest within itself
she lies there motionlessly, silently, calmly
listening to every sound her heart whispers to her
as the music starts to play in her head of frenzy
She lived once but not anymore, as all fades
where does this crippling melancholy lead to
the stars never wrote a script for the existence
but they gave the mind a code to decipherer
as they gave the heart a wisdom to learn from
She pours the sweet Bordeaux in front of her
gulping in sips, turning her head, staring ahead
all is sweet, all is beauty, all is art if only you see
shadow the pain and leave it intact for the truth
as the time flows between her fingers to eternity
Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 3:02 PM UTC