Wordless Oracle Of Sylvia
© Surazeus
2018 12 14
Stasis in darkness of my open eye
vibrates substance to beam blue of my sky
so I stretch taut across distance of why
to taste metal sorrow from waterfall
when I pick blackberries from thick tangled vines
and smile mouthfuls of sweet shadow with blood.
Passion to sing wordless on aching air
hauls me tumbling in snow flakes of desire
that sprout anguished flowers in my tangled hair,
then peels mask of Godiva from my face
which breaks dead stringencies of crippled hands
when cry of my child glitters on your sea.
Her voice of hope melts in blank wall of time
so I make myself arrow of spelled rhyme
that flies at mirror of my face when chime
wakes glaring red eye of morning in flame
of helpless ambition to achieve fame
though suicide scatters puzzle of my name.
Nobody follows me from heaving main
so I am nothing on Blackberry Lane
still pretending to be wise and insane,
so I pluck dumb eyes of love with balled thumb
to taste blue-red juices of squandered game
for blood sisterhood, alone by my sea.
Cacophonous flock of black choughs wheel weird
in wind-blasted sky of my wordless play,
protesting with one voice my wandering lost
to show me black sea of my hollow heart
contrasting green meadows that glow bright fear
as if lit from within desire I suppress.
Long honey-feast of berries stuns my breast,
hooked by belief in heaven drowned by tears
since I still follow Blackberry Lane down
to indifferent sea that hurls wind at me,
beating and beating intractable heart
of hope that my sea-god will love me now.
The last illusion that we must discard
is our aching need for some other soul
to love us more than we can love ourselves,
so once we dispel fog of that desire
we will rise free from our numbing despair
and eat ghosts of lovers like spirit air.
I built Colossus of the man I loved
but that illusion collapsed on my head
when he escaped cavern of my desire,
and though I piece cracked limbs to fractured joints
I shall never reconstruct that lost idol
of masculine power that shadows my heart.
Dredging diamond silt from his iron heart,
I search for wisdom beyond posturing
of masculine power to defeat blind death,
but long after I float on wordless waves
you come to my dark cave with simple questions
to read riddles I carved on sunlit rock.
I am your Wordless Oracle of Sylvia
for I leave puzzles in my fluted bones
and acanthine hair littered on cave sand
since lightning-stroke of truth ruined my church,
so you must listen to wind of our sea
to hear my voice echo in shadows of faith.
I am blue substance of silence in song
that whistles in sea shell of your left ear
which spirals wisdom through oracle poems
to count plum-red stars of my bleeding heart,
so when you drink at fountain of the horse
you will taste dreams from pillar of my tongue.
My breast blossoming flowers of hot desire,
I lie with hands turned up to receive light,
yet empty as abyss of aching hunger
I am now free from trinkets of success,
floating weightless in vast sea of your eyes
where my siren songs lure you to my heart.
© Surazeus
2018 12 14
Stasis in darkness of my open eye
vibrates substance to beam blue of my sky
so I stretch taut across distance of why
to taste metal sorrow from waterfall
when I pick blackberries from thick tangled vines
and smile mouthfuls of sweet shadow with blood.
Passion to sing wordless on aching air
hauls me tumbling in snow flakes of desire
that sprout anguished flowers in my tangled hair,
then peels mask of Godiva from my face
which breaks dead stringencies of crippled hands
when cry of my child glitters on your sea.
Her voice of hope melts in blank wall of time
so I make myself arrow of spelled rhyme
that flies at mirror of my face when chime
wakes glaring red eye of morning in flame
of helpless ambition to achieve fame
though suicide scatters puzzle of my name.
Nobody follows me from heaving main
so I am nothing on Blackberry Lane
still pretending to be wise and insane,
so I pluck dumb eyes of love with balled thumb
to taste blue-red juices of squandered game
for blood sisterhood, alone by my sea.
Cacophonous flock of black choughs wheel weird
in wind-blasted sky of my wordless play,
protesting with one voice my wandering lost
to show me black sea of my hollow heart
contrasting green meadows that glow bright fear
as if lit from within desire I suppress.
Long honey-feast of berries stuns my breast,
hooked by belief in heaven drowned by tears
since I still follow Blackberry Lane down
to indifferent sea that hurls wind at me,
beating and beating intractable heart
of hope that my sea-god will love me now.
The last illusion that we must discard
is our aching need for some other soul
to love us more than we can love ourselves,
so once we dispel fog of that desire
we will rise free from our numbing despair
and eat ghosts of lovers like spirit air.
I built Colossus of the man I loved
but that illusion collapsed on my head
when he escaped cavern of my desire,
and though I piece cracked limbs to fractured joints
I shall never reconstruct that lost idol
of masculine power that shadows my heart.
Dredging diamond silt from his iron heart,
I search for wisdom beyond posturing
of masculine power to defeat blind death,
but long after I float on wordless waves
you come to my dark cave with simple questions
to read riddles I carved on sunlit rock.
I am your Wordless Oracle of Sylvia
for I leave puzzles in my fluted bones
and acanthine hair littered on cave sand
since lightning-stroke of truth ruined my church,
so you must listen to wind of our sea
to hear my voice echo in shadows of faith.
I am blue substance of silence in song
that whistles in sea shell of your left ear
which spirals wisdom through oracle poems
to count plum-red stars of my bleeding heart,
so when you drink at fountain of the horse
you will taste dreams from pillar of my tongue.
My breast blossoming flowers of hot desire,
I lie with hands turned up to receive light,
yet empty as abyss of aching hunger
I am now free from trinkets of success,
floating weightless in vast sea of your eyes
where my siren songs lure you to my heart.
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