Poems

[Arku Bludreth]

not my usual style, but something I was working on and thought I'd share.



A Journey

A silence over the whole ship,
Dreaded dangers of this long trip.
Approaching that of Circe's curse,
The sailors bet on which was worse.

Scylla, the snaked headed maiden;
or Charybdis, her grave ship-laden?

Scylla, maiden of beauty fair;
Now a monster, death in her lair.
Vessel nears, snake-head emerges;
Five others snap, crew she purges.

The sound of roaring, swirling blue--
only warning that would ensue.
Monster of the briny, sea deep,
Neptune himself away would keep.

Ship moves by, to Thrinakia;
Crew six less, nothing's stopping them..
Ulysses sailed on to the isle;
Just one would survive the next trial.

Famine; then slaying sun's cattle,
Sun's rage fell, causing a battle
Of storm's portent, shattering mast;
One to Calypso's isle was cast.

[arku]

Angel of the Twilight

My angel of the twilight;
With wings of dappled grey,
Stepping from the shadows.

Your wings are ragged,
Fluttering dejectedly
Like forgotten wash.

Sweet angel of the twilight,
Despondency is a shared
Well of longing.

Wrap your arms around me,
Lift me up, up, up
Before we crash.

I walk the alleys,
I search the sewers,
For my veneration.

Bless me with putrid breath.
Lead me into temptation.
Deliver me to evil.

For I believe in
The all-encompassing spirits,
The holy communion of sinners.

The forgiveness of sins,
The resurrection of this frail body,
And life in lasting misery.

I descend into Hell,
With you, my twilight angel.
Amen.

[arku]

The days fade into twilight,
shadows lengthen across the land.
Wooden arms outstretched,
modeling autumn's style.

Aureate leaves tremble
in the ever-shifting breeze.
A chill kisses mother-earth,
foreshadowing winter's grasp.

Green turns rubicund
in a cycle of dying youth.
Each step on littered ground
echoing a symphony of death.

[arku]

Indifference

Boiling beneath the skin of a complacent religiosity,
hollow cries echo within the empty, lifeless walls of your own doing.
Brick after brick encompassing mind and soul,
securing them from contact with the outside.
Fruitless attempts to scale the slippery walls,
while above the eyes watch and take no heed.
Are you even there?
Do you even care?

It eats you from within, devouring at the cellular level,
leaving an empty shell and a rotted and stinking mess between the ears.
Warfare rages between light and dark or so we were taught.
What really happens in the realms of the unseen?
Michael and the Beautiful One taking tea?
The world as we know it shimmers and fades from reality.
Are you even there?
Do you even care?

[Kolava]

I think you have an interesting style, and your thought-provoking choice of subject didn't hurt. The image of tea time in Heaven while things rot below made me grin.