Black in Black

[illuminatix]

Cloud-capped violins
dressed in ashen dreams
swaying, longing,
ever so gently fading
by the motionless hands
of yesterday's verdant gleams
for you have drifted away,
so, so faraway,
leaving only a Plutonian void behind
where crystal serpents of dismay grind,
silencing the lulling mazes of my life
with their foamy cascades of strife

amaranthine hopes
lit by years of a fruitless toll
quivering, shivering
still nestling
deep in the damp opaque eyelids
of this lonesome, ruptured soul.
naked prayers try to rise
up, up arise!
but the wings of my breath are clipped
unable to reach Heavens from their crypt
slowly being consumed without a reply
by the scratching echoes of goodbye

unclosing eyes
wedded to a lost precious Sight,
waiting, grieving,
endlessly weeping.
liquid sighs of ghostly memories
poring unto the brimming night
elevating my arms to reach out high
so, so high
but alas! my Beautiful Queen
you can no longer hear me
nor read me,
nor heal me
for I have become a departing shadow
an oozing poet of the Cimmerian Meadow.
draped in black in a black light
orbiting in the ever-during night,
with my black whispers
and black tears,
around your imperious pearls,
that are reflecting
your garish smile,
flaxen curls...
my forever lost treasures,
oh, the never tasted pleasures...

[Buh4Bee]

The Owl and Full Moon

The round full bodied face appeared above the field.
Like a glass of chardonnay, vinegar water,
futile.

The image of the face, serene, beautiful, bumpy surfaced,
Like those sublime, untouchable gnarled hands.
To reach out and touch this space is
impossible.

The little owl sat on the branch and tanned in his light.
To better see, hunt, and be. Ideal!
How perfect the useless moon was.

It called out over the wire, “Odi whoo, Odi whoo, Amo, Odi whoo!”
And the moon smiled back quietly.
This jubilation would last for as long as the night,
Cloudless.

The moon would abandon the owl,
Because time dictates the rules of the world.
And the owl would protest and call it back!

The clouds and time kept the full moon hidden.
Nothing could change this, not even God.
Perhaps, the serendipity of brave Cronos
Might return the venerated moon?

[Buh4Bee]

Your poem is just fabulous! I posted a poem that I wrote that reminded me some how of yours.

Thanks for sharing!
jersea