"thisbe" poems
Better to be Pyramus and Thisbe
than god Apollo and Daphne?
As love oft triumphed by envy.
Oh to be Abelard and Heloise
or Juliet you and Romeo me!
Cleopatra, Marc Antony,
Orpheus, and Eurydice!
Martyrs to Cupid, were you wary
of the price to pay? Did you find peace
from Plato’s coined mental disease
in Pluto’s long halls of Hades
or the self induced daily shade of trees?
What of love dooming kin to Achilles?
When Dido and Aeneas meet
is her suicide guaranteed?
Pray tell us, can true love ever be free!
May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 9:14 AM UTC
yestereve we succame
A lengthy ballad of longing
formerly one of obstinance
flared in a cacophony of passion
Whilst usually twirling in a seemly epitome fashion,
yestereve a caprice thought laid heavy on hearts
as there was no doubt of desire
nor were there objections to her
for even when my affections consumed you
lady desire was just an inexorable
yestereve she picked petals from a Sinensis blossom
there went the pain
any semblance of grudge
along with sanity
reason
and lastly, walls as carefully constructed as that of Pyramus and Thisbe's
such vulnerability unmatched
for your sweet scent lulled me from the arms of reason
for reason, although safe,
is the most intricate and fragile part of the ballad
and the first to fall victim to the cascade
What a fool I must be to have gladly forgotten the kinks of your hands
or the freckles on the back of your neck that form a perfect triad.
The way your upper lip curls when you grin
made my glissade blissful and passionate
Your flustered twirl
the very epitome of aubade
Ignorant of the harsh retombe of reality
Your flustered face En L'air
Every touch a pleasant surprise that formed a grand symphony
A moment of unfiltered emotion
A heavenly ballad
so cruelly of yestereve.
Apr 16, 2021
Apr 16, 2021 at 2:37 PM UTC
There is a Raven
Perched upon my window sill,
Its talons tearing into the paint.
The tick-tock
Of a grandfather clock
Resounds throughout the walls,
Matching the scritching-scratching
Of the ravens claws.
I sit in the corner,
As I have for night after night,
Not sleeping,
Never sleeping,
Simply sitting and waiting.
The Raven begins
To tap-tap-tap
At the window pane.
And I sit
And wait.
How long now has it been?
Since my Sun,
So beautiful at its Dawn,
Had left its Noon-time heights
For an untimely Setting?
Sadly grieveous as it had been,
My Sunset had been darkly beautiful,
Asplash with deep reds and purple,
Crowned in gold.
Oh that I had been Pyramus and she Thisbe.
Star-crossed and Tragic,
A love made eternal by mutual deaths.
Alas, it was not to be,
For I am no Pyramus and she no Thisbe.
She went ahead of me
And not by choice of her own,
By my blade yet not her hand.
And after her I would chase,
Pleaing forgiveness on bended knee
In that next dream.
Yet I am afraid,
Of the knife,
Her scorn,
Her embrace.
And so I sit
And wait.
The Raven is at my window,
Talons scratching divots in the sill.
The resounding of the clock
Still surrounds me,
As I sit
And wait.
Jul 18, 2012
Jul 18, 2012 at 12:10 AM UTC
For I understand, now,
That it was not love:
It was merely my mistempered;
Beshrewed list,
For what is só scarce
In this marred world:
She,
Is oft misused and no one descrys thee engrossing forfullment she gives:
Like a mantle of a paramour,
On a flesh penetrating night...
Marry!
My heart feels tossed on the abstract,
For I was overturned with the conceit
Of being Your Thisbe...
Your Trojan princess...
Your right-hand-lady...
But Sir,
My heart, now
Desires but one thing:
To be announced as one's kindred
And be loved as a kingsman
I am content, in faith!
Let us lief love
With a love, greater than love,
And may we build with flint
On the foundation of vestal love.
Let us be one another's bier
When our bodies brine;
Ghostly anchor...
Pilot in the bailful pestilence;
Crotchet in woe;
Behoveful paramour to tell aught to
Without the conceit of neither being cast by
Nor discreet;
Aqua vitae dram in languish...
When thát day abroach
I shall anon be aught...
Do aught for thy...
When thát day abroach
I shall doff
All inadequasies...
And love you
Invariably!
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 2:43 AM UTC
Fantastically fashioned fingers,
running smoothly through hair;
past present post-
Father Time struck by Sand Man's stare.
Heavenly hanging hair,
draping gently over lips;
tantalizing teasing tendrils-
Aphrodite's mien, Venus' hips.
Lusciously loving lips,
smiling softly at wandering eyes;
delirious delighted daze-
Pyramus and Thisbe's kiss--butterflies.
Efficaciously effervescent...
enchantingly endearing...
enticingly euphoric...
exultantly excited...
[Simply] ethereal! Eyes,
diamonds, starlight, life, of Earth, sky, and sea;
bejeweled boundless bless'ed-
If thou were Medusa, stone I'd be so readily.
Simply said Shakespeare,
thou art the sun;
falsely framed fairness-
for the sun is not brightest,
tis You tis You,
my wonderful, beautiful One.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:09 PM UTC
Packed in the back seat of
your cramped Chevy Lumina,
and parked on the frontage road
behind the conifers
in your backyard—
the moon is low, a jaundice yellow,
the car is stalled, the heater grumbled;
you pull me in to warm me up,
my glasses fog,
you steal my smile—
[Your father, for his Sunday sermon,
packed the house—Leviticus:
“’Their blood shall be upon them,’ and
all God’s children said?”
“Amen.”]
Our breath condensed, whisper-white,
traced our initials on the window—
in after-laughing afterglow,
you swallow, nervous,
before you kiss me.
We don’t let go, till cabin lights
illuminate your father’s form—
the verse, full force, the wrath of God,
a hurricane—
a Horrible.
I never saw you afterward,
poor pastor’s son, where have you gone?
Like Pyramus, at the sight of blood
on Thisbe’s veil—
we don’t prevail.
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 8:19 PM UTC
i’m here again.
i see you without seeing you
i feel you without touch
another night, black words
on white walls
i find myself hopelessly
seeking you out.
restless, relentless
i no longer know what i even
hope to find at its end.
perhaps only the stinging comfort
of knowing your near
within my grasp
like the gods of old
filling the night sky
with so much wonder
for i to only look upon in awe.
like pyramus and thisbe
through a crack in the wall
we whisper our love.
you are engraved within me
this cannot be for nothing
i refuse it.
countless moons
have come and went
radio silence
an entire world between us
yet i cannot give up;
the idea of you.
i exist in a fantasy,
a childlike dream
i peel back the veil of time
and gaze into you once more.
i do not know
what souls are made of
but what ever it is;
ours are the same.
and if that is all
we where ever destine to be
a flicker in time
a fleeting moment
a blip in space;
then i have cheated
fate from her cruel wish.
for i have lived out
countless life's
with you in my mind
my muse;
i have dreamt you
into my existence;
and here you remain.
Apr 8, 2024
Apr 8, 2024 at 6:50 PM UTC
There was once a poet from long ago
Who stories told of transformations
I shall tell of one that you may not know
Pyramus and Thisbe who loved through a cracked foundation
Whose houses were connected, neighbors were they
Families ensnared in rivalry and outrage
Oh how did it so weigh
On these blind lovers left with lips to assuage!
A crack so small only a desperate lover could see
A whisper only could dance through to ease
Two star-crossed lovers crouching on hands and knees
Expressing words that warm and please
To bring to light
Their love they did agree
To meet late at night
By the white mulberry tree
Thisbe first to show and await did she
Until a loud rustle filled the air
Frightened she ran off and hid thee
So fast her veil escaped the grasp of her hair
A lioness fresh from feeding
Paraded on passing by,
She went sniffing and licking
Veil now red left under the midnight sky
Pyramus, with the white specked tree in view
Sees just an empty sheath
Just a mulberry tree under a blanket of moonlit blue
With a crimson soaked veil underneath
Thinking he lost his heart's desire
She the cure to eternal strife
Life now nothing but mire
Wishes to follow her in afterlife
A sword he did reveal
With both hands set and firm
Fell on this stinging steel
Left as food for the callous worms
Oh how his blood did gush
Painting white mulberries incarnadine
Thisbe returning in such a rush
For Pyramus she did pine
A lifeless corpse awaits for her
Under that maledict tree
Blood soaked veil she did incur
So she dropped to one knee
Life without him she hated
A breast she did beat
Cried to the gods, fated
His sword she did greet
Forbidden love changed white to red
The berries we have today
Ill fated lovers left dead
To embrace in rot and decay
Together on the pyre
Rivalry has come to end
Lovers cradled in fire
Ashes in one urn, together again.
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 7:27 PM UTC
My tragedy, the tale of Pyramus and Thisbe.
For I stood, whispering into the lover's hallowed stone.
Wondering would it ever be?
For every love I have shared, Thisbe has never known.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 12:09 AM UTC
Nail my hands to the stars, call them Pyramus and Thisbe
Whisper to me with your moon kissed lips, through the cracks in your bones
And tell me of the sweet nothingness that plauges you
As I watch the sun begin to rise in your eyes
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
I am icarus, and you the sun.
I yearn for you, while you beg me to run.
Your touch burns, and I know I shall soon fall
You tell me it’s silly, and to heed father’s call
I am Orpheus, and you Eurydice
Once more, my downfall is the feelings in me
I longed to see, to feel, to embrace
But you faded the moment I turned my face
I am Pyramus, and you Thisbe.
Doomed to love, a mere wall in our way.
Taught to hate, thick blood turning green
Now apart, deep gashes agleam
You are Daphne, and I Apollo
From West to East, you’re all I follow
But now you’ve left, my love has no target
Now you’ve left, and I rue the day we met
Aug 31, 2025
Aug 31, 2025 at 3:48 PM UTC