Tuesday, February 18, 2020

check mate

quietly, the rustling movement of the cloaken mind
takes a step towards, furrowed brow, deftly moves behind.
intent on easy subterfuge and patiently he sees
all the tiny, little glances, touches, purposed subtleties.
so little is invested and so little offered up
for meager light to shine upon, wine to fill the shim'ring cup
a dance is stepped unnoticed in the dim lit, murky sway
outside, the lookers cannot tell the predator from prey

locked in combat gentle on the chessboard of desire
betting currency of pleasure on the edge of wrath and ire
tossing coins of jealous gold across the table made of ice
making cheap the heavy cost of what is virtue, what is vice
deftly and with purpose she now turns and looks away
he smiling and unmoving, eyes transition, blue to grey
unseen the cords of ether and unseen the hands that strive
pulling silent, resolute, a struggle deep within the minds

touch, a moment linger, and then turn and walk away
see the moistened lips, the hips that sumptuously sway
as taught the lines, the reels, the binds with lightning stretch out firm
baited hook becomes a smouldering look, the other player's turn
deftly and intently, let the settling net make blind
and draw the soul into the endless wells of deep fathomless eyes
close her in and wrap in comfort of a warm embrace, benign
then off now further down the shore, another game for which to find

knowing well the fickle nature of the shoreline that is walked
and the hollow tenderness of all the nets of words he talked
smiling sly at those who, angry, shake their fists and cast their blame
but throw their gold upon the table, ante up to play the game.

Tuesday, February 11, 2020

on navigating the bogs of the dying

Take the hazy photographs down with you when you go
Line the rooms you find, the tombs, where voices ebb and flow
And decorate the sumptuous cakes and treats they spread upon
Sweating table top, the putrid slop, to eyes on which they fawn.

It is sickly, it is sweetly, it is decadent, this tune
Music lightly, young and spritely, heavy painted and perfumed
Cast your glances, risk your chances, cast the sweaty dice again
Looking quickly to the others lest they deviantly win.

The wisdom of the ages, bought with money, crisp and bright
Speaks of notions, deep devotions, foreign essences, a blight
On dais dim, a din, a tune that speaks the elegant, divine
"Look!  Enticement of these vices , are all theirs, they are not mine."

The hollow feast, the rancid beast, the emptiest succour
Fill their belly, drain the well and dip a greedy hand once more
Wrap a cloak of smoke and soak their deeds in virtue pure
Engulfing aura, pour a little more, this stain'ed cure

Some little lies, gentlest goodbys, a scene for to maintain
A dusty stage, a rage, apoplectic acid rain
Veiled and frantic antics aimed to halt at any cost
Lest the set be met with light of day and then be lost

So entering this oddly placed theatre of macabre
Walk thou softly, look aloft, ye, do not trust to vision, Love
For demons there, are clinging there, and they do not concern
With hearts a'beat, with wondering feet, with what their fire burns

Do not touch these hallowed trinkets, do not whisper words of doubt
Brace your shoulders, look not bolder, though you're in, you are without
So'f by the grace of God you trod, you plod, you tread to yonder shore
Cast off the dust, the rust, disgust, walk on and dwell on this no more.