Excelsior

PANORAMA ---

golden slopes flow in sinuous grace
into a chalice where liquid pearls
are conceived with the imprint
of the solemn horizon and the implacable ocean.

stature, firm and proud,
yields to no torment forged by mankind.

this voice cleans the air
from ripe and fusty emissions festering
in the boroughs of spleen.

twilight sinks, the moon gallops;
cavernous drumbeats settle for no less
than the fugue outreaching the furthest
canopy.

--- WOMAN

Comments

Carol Moore said…
Beautifully written! The way you put words together is such a gift.
31 December 2011 at 20:21
Goswinus said…
*Blush* moment. Originally it was the poem that I wrote to Ina for her Christmas card, which I composed in ten to fifteen minutes, though I embellished and honed it a little for publication on this blog.
31 December 2011 at 23:39
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ode

Image
Rise up towards the dawning red, never a hostage to that stolid fiend, the moor of despairs - Your flames burn those fermenting shadows, where an indolent spawn was birthed from tears of seasonal limbo. Walk tall through wintry haars and in the dead of the night, cast your wrath around and avail yourself a new Kingdom!
Read more

White Blossom

Image
White blossom seated in a wreath of gnarled fingers; a prim lodestone harangued by the glaring moans which in haunting waves run off from parched thirsty mouths. Their predatory desire brewed from acrid pain skews her lofty aspirations and turns her ringing laughter to an idol of shame. To wistful humility devoted, she withers and bloats til all her unshed sweet tears are collected in a cuirass glossed with the colours of her hawkish suitors: burning ardour and the scorn of the immature.
Read more

Fury

Image
Eyes dripping of blood and fire, starhair rushes its whirls of seduction across your indigo shroud - enduring an insatiable fever that whetted exotic appetites and a manly desire to thrust your soul into the font of bespoken aeons and to rise one time more - reassembled, galvanized by primordial forces, reborn through the rite de passage of a new empyrean hermeticism - and destroy the black shapeless forms lurking inconspicuously in the high vacuum. Behold now these lumps of carrion marching in a sullen pilgrimage towards the gates of oblivion: neck broken, spine humped in shame and terror, vile casualties of their own indoctrination of haunting nightmares, sentenced to eternal torment under the stark scrutiny of bland nonentity. The undying fire raging in your chest: their bane. Dusting the remaining embers of stars and newly formed planetary system into stark penal colonies made from dark matter... Airing the canvas of space-time, trawling a spree of a trillion galactic cobwebs int
Read more