Tag Archives: poetry

matter of perspective

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I’m not that interesting, she says,
wrestling dingo dogs and alligators
at the same time. I’m not that interesting,
she says,
but she says it like a challenge,
and she says it like a taunt.
Not that interesting, she says,
and she says it like a lie. I am not
that interesting, she says, says she knows
that she’s been perjured;
says she’s caught out in a lie,
says it like a game she’s playing–
never winning, always close,
first forgotten in remorse.
Says she’s willing to be limber
but won’t take to sabotage
but she might be
brokered
into
always tying
for the prize.

©HMS G

Hangman (15/30)

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The noose cradles my neck,
A lover pulling close,
Taking my breath,
Speeding my heart.
Coarse rope morphs to calloused hands,
Roughened from honest work.
Stretched up on toes,
I strain to bridge our heights.
A stool rocks;
I dance from foot to foot.
We play, tying for the win.
A push, I fall to bed,
Soul caught mid-flight.

©HMS G

a red moon low in the sky (14/30)

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there is an animal living inside you,
scratching at the walls of its cage;
you should let it out now
and now
and again:
tell it to go play
sharpen its teeth
sink its claws
deep
into a flesh not yours,
into a flesh far from home;
and when it’s had its fill
of blood and dark and dusk and screams,
welcome it back with open arms
but don’t be fooled by well placed charms.
its teeth are metal, sharp and quick
a quickening reaping ripening at the keep.
don’t keep it too long
long within;
it’ll only come out, neglecting sinews
ripping skin.

©HMS G

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Title inspired by John Gold’s Vampire’s Kiss. Listen to it;  it will change your life. Or get stuck in your head forever, alternatively.

P.S. Oh hey, I’m all caught up. Poem 14 on April 14th. Booyah.

death takes a lover (13/30)

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it does not do to covet that which would make me less.

I was beget by gods.

but you are broken

exactly

and no mere mortal can survive.

no mere mortal can survive;
this was an accident of fate,
these fragile bones and too pale face.

here heroes fated come to die;
their light extinguished in my eyes.

I am a mortal beggar
with an immortal soul,
awaking every age anon,
memories clouding up the membrane not mine own;
I live each age of this earth to my dying breath
and then when I would walk with Death
she beckons me and hold me close;
she tethers me, keeps me

close to earth.

her fingers, burnt, they smudge my skin,
rekindle fire deep within;
her milky eyes, they drink me in;
her face impassive sheds no tears

but we’ve had years–we have had years.

so many lifetimes pass me by
and all remembered in her eyes;
her touch I touch and ashes, we fall apart.
I’m on the wrong side of the river;
she’s gone away, a silhouette among the damned.
I’m left to rent my hair and weep
and mourn the passing,

not mine.

I would give chase–will give chase

you cannot swim with leaden heart

and drown and wake to breathe again.

my phoenix with a faulty flame.

©HMS G

 

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Oh goody, you’ve made to the end. 🙂 I sent this to a friend; she sent me back THIS, said it reminded her of my masterpiece. It’s “The Ride” by Rodolphe Guenoden , a comic which illustrates a man courting Death and Death returning the favor.

Anywho, cheat sheet: plain text = the Lover, italics are Death, bold italics are them speaking together.

just lies (11/30)

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Rotten, unwavering and cruel,
you cannot pull away,
ashamed to scattering blush
and failing explanation.

Your hand brushed not
my cheek (our eyes agreed)
grip tightening and falling back.
Denial bleeds your fingers pale,
depriving touch of life.

Sit silent still with roaming eyes;
your gaze seeks out not mine
in hushed exchange.
Rebuttal hangs on parted lips,
deadened in escape.

© HMS G