My poetry, a healing journey back to myself.

Beloved,
Lord of the Crystal Heart
To whom this River answers,
Please wait for me in our
Mirrored tent, amid the feral
Trees whose iridescent laughter
Scents the sky, caressed by
Silent souls, still yearning for the
Water woman, reborn on a
Shard of joy.
 
The Grave-Singer’s Daughter

Down in the hollow moon
Home lives the grave-singer’s
Daughter, harsh in the song of
Sighs, strangled to her regret,
Keening her broken dirge, straining
To break a smile.

Soiled by impassive Death, locked
In a shroud of thighs, nailed to her
Own resurrection, she bleeds to
The silent moon, trapped in a
Cornered laughter, reflected in
Flakes of decay, packed in this
Cage of night.

Sharp as a cord of defiance
Strung on a burnt violin, clawing
The dark to connect her, gaunt
In the dank moon’s face, mourned
By the grateful music droned by
By the careful dead.
 
I breathe in the skin
Of summer all in a
Crumpled joy, languorous
Beneath a yellow crush
Of butterflies which sing
Between the green-jewelled
Trees, flushed with the scent
Of apples. My need is silver,
Laced with hope, tethered
To your mouth which I have
Never touched. Yet the taste
Of your soul lingers, like
Burning cloves, bending
This sheltered heart into
A filigree of joy.
 
Remember me

By chance you visit my home at last,
By chance to prove your love is true,
The card you mailed after I passed,
Was still delivered with postage due.

My heart expired before I read it.
Still I knew just what it would say!
"My dear beloved our love has ended,
I'll come without rain another day".

My tears refilled the Watershed,
And my heart succumbed to it's deep.
Now my heart and the brine are duly wed,
And us two forever shall weep.

If it suits your fancy take one last glance,
And leave what's due in the letter box.
Then hang your heart on the picket fence --
Since my heart died from the Lover's Pox.
 
Beloved,
As I watch you sleep,
Adrift in the breadth of
Silence, tenderness
Warm in the curve of
Your mouth, my soul
Shifts, shedding those
Broken dances which
Scarred my life, and
Left my tender bones
To dream. Ahh, you
Are the laughter
Tattooed in the joyful
Corners of my delight,
Reminding me to sing!
 
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Beloved,
Love is a a fissure
Gouged out of raw
Days where I
Hung my tears to
Light the way to you
While sewing bloody
Flowers across this
Broken pain. Scattered
Into grief my words are
Pale, elegant thorns
Bearing witness to the
Textured silence which
Fractures my belief as
The scent of your
Indifference bites deep
Within my loss.
 
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My heart is tethered
To these tears which
Cower at the water’s
Edge, along the miles
Of printed sand recording
All my grief. Inside these
Gritty words, chiseled
Out of fear, lie the shattered
Bones of withered trust,
Bleak runes to cast my
Fate, here, at the water’s
Edge, where a shivered
Silence waits.
 
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Shalimar said:
Requiem

Time is a whip,
It’s severed screams
Mock rigid bones beneath
The dream. Beloved, I cast
Bloody runes, flailing in the
Dark where sad shreds
Of youth still cling, mute in
The misery of age, reeling
In a cowering rage as love
Lies battered, bound to the
Grieving dead.
Click to expand...

very strong piece, nice work. I have found creative writing the same...really very cathartic.
 

All my tears are crucified,
Nailed beneath the bitter
Shards of a broken mandolin,
Naked to the mirror baring
Someone else’s song, and
Ground into bleeding ash
Beneath your angry tree.
Bloody music, keening out
For love.
This voice, a travesty of bone,
Rattling out anguish, strangled
Response in a minor key.
Torn reflection of this Liar’s
Garrotte you insist belongs to ME?
 
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Shalimar said:

All my tears are crucified,
Nailed beneath the bitter
Shards of a broken mandolin,
Naked to the mirror baring
Someone else’s song, and
Ground into bleeding ash
Beneath your angry tree.
Bloody music, keening out
For love.
This voice, a travesty of bone,
Rattling out anguish, strangled
Response in a minor key.
Torn reflection of this Liar’s
Garrotte you insist belongs to ME?
Click to expand...
That's deep Shalimar! Glad to see you here. 🤗
 
Shalimar said:

All my tears are crucified,
Nailed beneath the bitter
Shards of a broken mandolin,
Naked to the mirror baring
Someone else’s song, and
Ground into bleeding ash
Beneath your angry tree.
Bloody music, keening out
For love.
This voice, a travesty of bone,
Rattling out anguish, strangled
Response in a minor key.
Torn reflection of this Liar’s
Garrotte you insist belongs to ME?
Click to expand...
This poem is amazing! It has many layers of meaning, and I had to read it several times to understand it and visualize everything going on. Words like "tears," "bitter," "angry tree," and "strangled" show a very intense emotion, which captured my interest. I could "feel" the righteous anger throughout, which was revealed in the last sentence. It was powerful! Thank you for sharing.
 
Heartbeat,
Soft beneath
The broken heels of Death,
Down, down into the
Furtive pit that wails
In its rags of night,
Cradling a garden of
Bone. Where are the
Words which bled for
Me, screaming my
Silence in shrouded
Pain? Gravid answers
In a rictus of skin,
Scrambling these
Runes into textured
Flesh, lying for love,
Blooming in a heartbeat?
 
Shalimar said:
Heartbeat,
Soft beneath
The broken heels of Death,
Down, down into the
Furtive pit that wails
In its rags of night,
Cradling a garden of
Bone. Where are the
Words which bled for
Me, screaming my
Silence in shrouded
Pain? Gravid answers
In a rictus of skin,
Scrambling these
Runes into textured
Flesh, lying for love,
Blooming in a heartbeat?
Click to expand...
You have such a gift, @Shalimar! Mesmerizing and haunting.
 
You express yourself so well that it's painful to read. I'm thankful you are blessed with this creative and cathartic avenue that few others in your position are able to pen...this is healing. Take your time. I will be following your poetry here...and thinking of you❤️‍🩹
 
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Red Crow

Feral dancer in a
Flight of pain, I was
Your red crow, blood
On a wall of desolate
Joy. You fed me the
Tenderness imbedded
In your skin, embroidered
Laughter, and limpid
Lies, such a langorous
Deception, pale bites
Of freedom, served up
In a poisoned kiss. Caught
On a claw of rage, yet
Scavenging for love, I wept.
 
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Shalimar said:
Red Crow

Feral dancer in a
Flight of pain, I was
Your red crow, blood
On a wall of desolate
Joy. You fed me the
Tenderness imbedded
In your skin, embroidered
Laughter, and limpid
Lies, such a langorous
Deception, pale bites
Of freedom, served up
In a poisoned kiss. Caught
On a claw of rage, yet
Scavenging for love, I wept.
Click to expand...
I feel the pain in your last line. Wonderfully written! Thank you for sharing!
 
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