Poetic Fragments

Content:

Part One: Love’s Barbed Arrows
Part Two: Heterogeneity

This Post will likely either be expanded or more parts will be added as I continue writing. Look out for it in the #Poetry section of the blog.

Part One
Love’s Barbed Arrows

I

Not once have I composed a poem in my life
Yet your beauty inspires me
Say, should I write one for you?
Or should I try painting you
Or perhaps write tales about it?

Oh but even the old masters
or photographs as clear as water
could not capture what I see
in you

and

II

Tell me love
Could you be a muse?
No,

It is because even artists
cannot see
your doe eyes
cannot capture
your pleasant way
or the warmth
of your body
and the way
you twist your tongue

Ambitious in spite of all
Curious about the world
Woe! Why could you not find
Some room within your heart for me?

III

Your glassy eyes pierce me
As we embrace I close mine
Emotion fills my form
As if sapped from yours
How strange to share like this
A meaningless moment in your life
Was my first kiss

IV

Why does my heart ache?
Why is it that the heart
Our blood, can feel love?
Why is it that my stomach can feel
The butterflies that you cause in me

But I know you don’t love me
And I hope I don’t love you either
I hope I’m being dramatic
And that my feelings will fade

But O Love
I am so happy I can feel you
I am so happy I can be here with you
And I will repay you with my silence

O how happy could we be
If only we could grip our feelings
And force them to do our bidding
Us lonely and lovestruck

If I could simply love those
That are alone with me
But I can’t include them
And I can’t

V

One day I will tell my son or daughter
I own you like you own me

---

Part Two
Heterogeneity

I

Cloud-colored mood
Your soul compares to vapor
Cold, soft
Sometimes colorful and sometimes gray

Nephele you strike me like hail
each time my fingers run through you
The brilliant ice a blue jail
I am torn through it’s prism in two

The sun breaks through
And these rays of hope scorch me
I am set ablaze
But your absence burning I keep my pace

Your ashen storms, above summits and seas
Are lovelier than the sweetest of dreams
Eidola and Simulacra don’t compare
To that which only you provide
Desire brighter, hotter than the morning light

II – A gift for her friends

In the old country
In an ancient forest
In a dark hut
A witch looked tiny
With her giant hat
The night was clear
Shining stars aligned
A murder flew by
For a mage
Every Crow’s a blessing
Bubbling cauldron
Tiger’s chaudron
Moonlight caught in spider silk
Myrtle from the witch’s wreathe
Oak and mistle
Scent of thistle
Idaion’s dust and social earth
The brew turns dark
Calms as slick as oil
She smiles and drops
A taxman’s coin
A maelstrom and the whole golden universe sprung up
Alive
Underneath her blackened fingers
With a giggle she held her dress
A storm in her little hut
Was making a raging mess
Flasks were shaking
Slimes awaking
Sunshine almost fell to the floor
But a cool night makes such a good gift.