01 | April | 2013 | Golden Star Poetry

New Light

Groaning, the couch heaves a sigh with me

“I am the Lilly of the valleys” says her maiden

not anymore could she be so fond.

A bond breaks in an hour, but we are too late to catch it.

I loose the flower of the hour

I loose a thorn and then am gone.

I walk along with swords wiped free of blood

and make my way to pass the battle

without swinging my sword.

She sees a new light in the empty hall

she tries to knot her hair that thins and starts to gray

she sits and waits for sunrise in the middle of the day.

Galleons, fight at the gallows!

We are all allegianed and armed till God parts us!

Come, if you be at all men.

She held her head beside your eyes

and that she can see is your departure

she is lonely while in your worn-down company.

“I do not loose faith each passing day”

I assert this fact quite loosely, but substantially enough.

“I gain hope-I hope-I hope”

Your hands are lovely, he says, as he inspects them.

Smile for me again and I’l make no argument

but bask in love’s cool wine.

P.S-Passover ends at sundown today!!!!! WHOOPEE!!! BREAD AND CAKES HERE I COME!!!!!!!!!!

Yesterday I headed over to the library.

This particular branch is home to one of the best, and most extensive poetry collections of any public library that I know of. I came upon a book of poems by Robert Bly, all of them in the form of “Ghazal” poems. They are a Rumi-esque type of poem that is popular in Islamic culture. They consist of three-lined stanzas that could all be individual poems. I was reading them last night at around 11:00 P.M and was very inspired to write some of my own. I did, in fact, and wrote three poems with 8 stanzas in them, all in less than 25 minutes! whew! It was some inspiration! In fact, I haven’t gotten that roused by my muse in AGES, it seems! Oh well, I hope you enjoy them. This is my second one (I didn’t care that much for the first), and tomorrow I shall hopefully post the third one. Happy Reading!

The Breath of the Morning

Like the breath of the morning wavering

you quiver and shiver at my doorstep

wearing a purple velvet overcoat and sweater.

My my, the lines you say are changed

our conversation rapid

and dashing across the scripted lines.

Our times are older and not as strong

we break barriers and call ourselves free

but we are pardoned against army walls, besides.

Trading off days was not so easy.

I bargained with you about which day was mine