navwin » Archives » Open Poetry #31 » Wasteland (complete)
Open Poetry #31
Post A Reply Post New Topic Wasteland (complete) Go to Previous / Newer Topic Back to Topic List Go to Next / Older Topic
wranx
Member Elite
since 2002-06-07
Posts 3689
Moved from a shack to a barn

0 posted 2004-03-01 11:40 AM



i  

Bukkake

She lies fitful
atop her own rough altar
of unrealized promise

Struggling
against the restraints
of amity
against the constraints
of verity

And yet
eagerly accepting
her self-imposed penance

To endure each outpour
elicited by
and deposited upon
her countenance

Each surge
of wantonness and desire
avarice and rancor
pools and swirls

Fashioning
the strumpet mask
she wears into
her banishment

ii

The Barrens

Exiled in the Hinterlands
for the sins of the father

She builds her lean-tos
beside streams flowing
nowhere

Lost and abandoned
she drums out her secrets
into the night
and hears, only echoes

Untrusting and aloof
she now pounds her laundry
upon uncaring stones

Wandering alone
from camp to camp
warming herself
with prurient fires

When she visited my own
I watched the flicker of flame
dance her face, both Cherub
and Whore

As her eyes followed
the spiraling sparks
I could see within them
an abysmal depth
holding exquisite sadness

Then, cloaked once again
in her brocaded doubt
she slipped away
back into the Wasteland

Where, I'll see her tracks
and traces

And hear her plaintive wails

As she goes about
beating the bulrushes

In search of her Deliverer

iii

The Trail

Sitting
Staring
Into my dying fire

I see her

Following restive
behind his decrepit wagon

Marking time
by the protesting groans
of the trundling dray
as it trembles beneath
its burden of false promise

On its endless journey
toward dissolute pledge

I see her stop
now and again

To scratch out her yearning
on cavewall and crag
or score bitter anguish
upon her breasts and her thighs

I watch as she wanders
from his prescribed path
to make her temporary temples

Washing the shame from her face
combing sins from her hair

Donning the crimsoned robes
an obscuring mantle
for a priestess of love

And warming herself
burning the faggots
of bundled affection

Then, once again,
falling in line
behind her betrothed

Tethered by the threads
of fraying hope
bound with the intricate knots
of mistrust

Making simple meals
from what she can scavenge
or from the bones that he throws her

Walking deeper
into the wasteland
counting the steps

Through catching briar
and tripping bramble
taking her farther
from her heinous angel

She begins to regret
blurring her tracks
so that no one can follow
nor let her find her way back

I see the bright diamonds
fall from her eyes
to the dust on the ground

Glint for a moment
then become trampled
into the mud


iv

Dreams


At the end of each gray sameness

She sleeps
in the masters bed
a rough pallet of unkempt emotion

She lies
in restive repose
seeking solace in dreams

Where she is a princess

A band of braided prayer
studded with sparkled pleas
is her diadem

Once again pristine
Gone, are the scars that mar  
and her plague of small hurts

Dreams
in which she dances
alone in the great hall
of all that might have been

Tapestried in panels
of woven wishes

Dancing
through the clatter of bones
left by those
that sought her deliverance

Paper-white ossuary gourds
roll about,
then stare with muted mocking
through empty sockets
and lipless grins

As her glide and pirouette
give way to feverish whirling
and frenetic flail
dizzying herself in celebration
of a freedom merely guessed at

Breathless and spent
she gathers the rubble together
and settles herself to sleep
into the nest of bones
to drift away once more

Into that same gray sameness


v.


Gnomen


On one forked foray
from what was familiar
she chanced upon a creature
shorter than need be

Clad in the plain cloth of poverty
misfortune
visible through the tears

Taking a roadside liberty
he was passing his niter
through a root-like obscenity

The stream
dampening the dirt

The scene
dampening her

She noted it odd
to suffer the sweep of arousal
from the visage before her

This gnarl of a man
bent to a weight unseen
leathered and hoary

But with Jasper for eyes
as sharp and clean as crystal
misfortune
visible in his tears


vi

The Gate


As the myriad pilgrim paths
converge with each other
like the braiding of a rope

The destination becomes
clearer

No longer
just a dark regularity
blanketed in the haze of dawn

The sun rises
and burns the veil away
to reveal the great gate
of a lonely outpost

Looming
in its weighty welcome

Thoughts of adventure play
about her eyes
and her dark compel
plays coy
at the corners of her mouth

With the prospect of passing
through into something
new

To once again
stroll among a populace
perchance to find an angel
less grievous

Or just a man
that wouldn’t look too deeply
if only for awhile


vii

The Bazaar


At the marketplace
she is swallowed
even as she enters

Drawn into the core of it
she succumbs to its spirit

And wastes, not a moment
sampling
the various fruits that she finds

She’ll taste the musky flesh
of those from the warmer climes
ignoring the sticky drip
that travels her chin

She’ll savor the sharp acrid sting
of the Northerland offerings
reveling in the terse sour shudder
a most bitter pleasure

Discover fabrics
in colors and prints
scarcely remembered

In textures
only dreamt of

She’ll don a brides’ lace
meant to be worn
but once

And try on the silks
smooth and sweet
as a virginal sigh

But, hasn’t the resource to retain
even the simple rough broadcloth
that savages the skin
and abuses the nipples


viii


The Garden

Still
she finds she has no escape
from her evil attachment

Her sponsor
even decorated as he is
with the Cuckold’s horns
he will not release her

No way out
save the path
that takes her heavy-lidded
into sanctuary

And so
she’ll take respite again
in the garden behind her eyes

Where she drinks of the sun
the wind and the rain
along with the grape

Drifts away in wisps
of poppy scented languor

Communing
with whatever spirit
she can steep from deep
within the wormwood


ix


The Castle


She is
in effect
a castle unto herself

Surrounded by a seemingly tranquil moat
that reflects back blindingly
her alabaster façade

A bulwark of terrible fictions
built block upon block

Behind which she keeps hidden
the woman she has become
while who she hopes to be
strokes and soothes
the girl she once was

The truth of her lies elsewhere
in an airless cell
deep beneath her keep


x

In Catacombae


She walks down the dark tunnels
of time spent
wandering the corridors of recall

Passing mossy mementos
from times past

Stored haphazardly
jumbled in crèches
like shrines to obsolete gods

Letting her fingers trail
along damp stone
as if she were caressing the cheek
of a long-dead lover

Her splashing footfalls echo in whispers
of nearly forgotten voices

The stagnant hope she stands in
drips through the porous vault
pressed like wine
from the weight of heavy days

Her face shines in a watery waver
roundish and waiflike
of indeterminate age
mouthing silent queries

Malformed notions
birthed then abandoned

Flutter indistinct about her head
before flying
down the myriad passages

In search of a purpose


xi

Eos


I am made to recall
one rare morning

Her
Standing in another reflection
brushed by willows

Sunlight and water
her only raiment
efforting to rid herself
of the scents we had made

I remember seeing
with some satisfaction

Her look of vexation
as she straightened my tangles
from her hair and her head

And her startled delight
when she was surprised
by an ovation of birds



xii


Shamans Shack

A collection of sticks and bones
from the limbs of many woods
many men
make up the shack in which she sits

Looking
Into the oldest face imagined
for even a hint
as to what tool would be capable
of etching lines
so fine, so numerous
into the mahogany mask
that is, Baba Yaga

“Tell me witch
what of me?”

“Though you have sinned
in ways, times seven
still, you may be redeemed”

“Even now
you are too proud to recognize
that Vanity has blinded you
to the refuse you wade through”

In coveting what you feel undeserving
you have taken too much
of what remains”

“And it angers you
into the madness that drives you
to soothe the itch in your spirit
with the unceasing sweet scratching
of flesh”

“Your trail has been hard
yet, you’ve taken the easiest of routes
for the one you’re allied with
provides for existence
but, existence is all
that he will allow”

So says the witch

“You once encountered another
one you deemed “Angelic”
for the message he bore”

“And “heinous”
in his stricture”

So say the doves

  
xiii

Rich man, poor man


And the old woman said

“Even as you follow
downcast and headlong
his recollection
haunts your footsteps
as a cur would follow a scent”

“His ease in his penury
vexes you
as does the richness
of his manner”

“You know that you’ve seen him
now and again”

“Hidden in an unexpected kindness
or a gentle touch”

“And once
in the eyes of a gnome”

  
xiv

The Thief

She’d always made her way
the way she could

From the kindness of strangers
or what she could salvage

And the deft application
of her long pale fingers
upon ill-guarded things

She would steal with a smile
or the pout that purloins

Could barter with a promise
that was as the air

The simplest of ways
to supplement her subsistence
came to her naturally

Yet, she was always poor
in the currency of life

Until the night
she finally decided
to steal herself

Away


xv

The Desert


The Sun
is now her sole companion

As she traverses her way
through the desert
that leads her back

Dawn leans against her  
pointing the way
with the shadow she casts

Divesting herself of layers
she casts off her mantle  
and the robes that obscure

Leaving them to punctuate the sand
along with her footprints

By midday her sins
are drawn from her skin
by the sear of the air

And travel refreshing
in traces
down her breasts and her thighs

Small Siroccos
smooth away her callous
polishing her pink

Together they travel
through an expanse
where darkness is found only
in the space under stones

Dusk finds the Sun
compelling her forward
to a willowed oasis

Where, at last
the day is spent


xvi


Night


The coal of evening is set with diamonds
and the wind fingers though her hair
weaving its signature into knots

Silvered scimitars shatter the obsidian sky
raining Ebon fragments onto her shoulders
crackling echoes throughout the dark

Her skin becomes porcelain glazed
cold and white as a winter morning
shining translucent in the moon

She takes my tarred and oiled hand
and places it firm upon her longing
And it is not smudged, nor is it soiled

but merely warmed into its yielding


And the night is on…


xvii


Storm


The wind blows swirling about us
Maroon and morose

Making us turn from the stinging sands
of our disparate histories

To face a new direction
Where chimera hangs low on the horizon
like an unformed thought

I put my face to the veil of lace
that obscures the glimmer
that hides in her eyes

It comes away shimmering
upon my brow and my beard
As if I’d walked into the webbing
of the most artful spiders

And I exhort her to follow
through the storm broken night
to a place heady and humid  

Where I can administer
my hell-gained proclivities
exploring her resilience
with benevolent intent

Til the night is spent…
xviii


Rebirth


And the day…

Finds us huddled naked
in the nest of our vestments

My mail shirt
formed from the many links
of countless disappointments

And
her heavy cloak
brocaded with the dark designs
of secrets, as yet unspoken

Had made our bed

As she awoke
she sewed her songs of promise
into the mists

When she stirred
she sowed sighs of her longing
into the Sedge

And I arose
to seek the suns solace
while stretching to meet it

Together, we broke our fast
on the spare bread of trust
and the clear water of truth

Before setting out
to spend the day…
    




"In looking Northward, I see a light"


© Copyright 2004 E.F.Rose - All Rights Reserved
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
1 posted 2004-03-01 11:47 AM



Somewhere toward the beginning [even though I have seen this in progress] I must have caught my breath...and it's a VERY long read.  But not a laborious read.  It is wonderful, it's going into my library, and I will look upon it often and pray that someday I will be able to imitate a master story-teller.

Isn't that the absolute sign of flattery?

Thank you Wranx...

Earth Angel
Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215
Realms of Light
2 posted 2004-03-01 11:58 AM


Stand up and take a bow! Ed, you are to be commended on this captivating saga. It was wonderful to read the whole story from beginning to end.

Love & Light,
Linda


Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
3 posted 2004-03-01 12:12 PM


Ed....this is fabulous!  I am at a loss for words to tell you the chills I had at the end ...they were because this is so good, so beautifully written!  Bravo!
Midnitesun
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647
Gaia
4 posted 2004-03-01 12:45 PM


Ed, this one is beyond a doubt my favorite of all time, the best write I'ver ever read here at Pips. It is truly an honor to be on the same board with the gift of a wranx write. This is a masterfully written piece worthy of holding its own front and back cover, illustrated in gold leaf and liquid jewels. BRAVO! You've reached the top of the mountain with this one my friend.

Cpat Hair
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Patricius
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793

5 posted 2004-03-01 12:45 PM


Need to spend some time with this one bud.. but, on first read, it strikes me as deep..and meaningful in both style and content...

I'll applaud you right now for what I see on the surface..and come back later to tell you how I truly appreciate it...

nice to see ti all put together too... in stages it read well, in this form it reads better...

nice... damned nice..


Dark Angel
Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095

6 posted 2004-03-01 04:20 PM


A fabulous and captivating read..You're a great story teller Ed.

Absolutely magnificent.

M

Beauty of the world which is soon to perish has two edges, one of laughter and one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.
(by Virginia Woolf)

Enchantress
Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113
Canada eh.
7 posted 2004-03-01 04:27 PM


When all the superlatives have been used..
may I simply say 'thank you' for this Ed.
This is a masterpiece and one of the
finest works I have ever read here at Passions!
~Smiles & Hugs, Nancy~


~I've loved you forever, in lifetimes before~
            

serenity blaze
Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738

8 posted 2004-03-01 06:11 PM


First I need to thank you for putting it all together for me.

There is more to this than meets the eye, and you know I see layered meaning here--this is a spiritual journey, and I find historical impact in the words, as well as personal signifigance for both of us. (I'm blessed with a bit of insight into some of your phrasing by knowing you.)

I'm in awe here.

This is both reflective and visionary, and the reader would suffer to assume that circles cannot be linear.

I'll talk to you later, yeti.  



You are scribe, you are mystic, you are poet.

I'm blessed to call you friend.

vandana
Deputy Moderator 5 Tours
Member Patricius
since 1999-10-22
Posts 10463
USA
9 posted 2004-03-01 07:55 PM



Seymour Tabin
Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720
Tamarac Fla
10 posted 2004-03-01 08:03 PM


wranx
A remarkable write with many layers and two players.

Grover
Senior Member
since 2004-01-27
Posts 1967
London, ON, Canada
11 posted 2004-03-01 08:27 PM


Worthy of only the best reviews! Indeed, what a superb write! Excellent in every way! Congratulations! Grover.
iliana
Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434
USA
12 posted 2004-03-02 02:25 AM


Wranx, I am not really good enough to give you effective criticism -- I just have to say what I feel -- this was fabulous!  I think this is historic!
Cpat Hair
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Patricius
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793

13 posted 2004-03-02 12:25 PM


yes, much more than meets the eye..and with a mystical quality as well. Do enjoy this one sir..the layers of possible in the prhasing and words..the story itself one of journey...

yep...
can honestly say wish I had written this..

but had I..lol.. it would not bear the stamp you so wonderfully endowed it with... your talent.


scorpio
Member Ascendant
since 2002-10-02
Posts 5178
right...there
14 posted 2004-03-02 12:54 PM


I've read this twice Ed.  And my sense of awe at what you have created has no limits.  

believe in what your heart feels...

Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505
Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA
15 posted 2004-03-03 09:47 PM


Ed, I don't feel qualified to go into much depth here but can say that I consider this a true work of art which could be published anywhere. I have seen in other poems of yours you have a unique way of saying simple things hiding so much complexity in just a few words. To me that is free verse at its best. Phrases like "pounds her laundry against uncaring stones.." make me smile with the beauty of the simplicity and yet the complexity of all the meaning contained therein. Too many writers feel thay have to explain everything to the reader. You give the reader credit for the intelligence needed to find the meaning in your words and you say things in a way to get the grey cells activated and headed in, hopefully, the right direction. Just as a preacher can take a small phrase from the Bible and do a two-hour sermon on it, so can one take phrases from your works and do the same. Anyway, I'm rambling here...just wanted you to know that, even though I don't always respond, I read and enjoy your work very much and this compilation is excellent. Best to ya....
wranx
Member Elite
since 2002-06-07
Posts 3689
Moved from a shack to a barn
16 posted 2004-03-03 11:13 PM


Well, now I'm blushing. And I need to thank the good people that took the time (a LOT of time) to read this thing.

It started out as 3 separate writes that seemed to belong together. But they were written out of order. The woman I love pointed out that it needed to be continued to some sort of conclusion, and gifted me with a leather bound journal with handmade pages in which to write into once it was finished. So? Here it is.
(I hope you're happy with it Susie (slavedriver!)).

I do hope it read well for everyone since I'm long past looking at it objectively.

Karilea? I thought I told ya it was all smoke and mirrors.

Linda, I'm glad you liked it...Thanks!

Kacy, I am flattered, but liquid jewels seems a bit...uhmm....much, eh? (Thanks!)

Ron m'friend, I layered as much paint on this thing as I could. Enough perhaps to hide the shaky foundation. *Grin*

Maree? You should talk! You are yourself, an amazing teller of tales.

Thank you Nancy, for ALL of your support during my stay here...And for this particularly nice comment.

M'witch, Be awed only by the length of it *wink* Yeah, there IS a lot goin on in here, more even than the author realizes.

And thank you vandana, for the constant and welcomed replies.

Sy my friend, I should think that YOU would find your way through the phyllo..Thank you!

Grover, you are new to me, and I find your comments always encouraging. I thank you.

iliana, YOU are another flatterer...(Thanks)

As I told my witch up there, scorpio? be awed only by my perseverence in this. (discipline escapes me)

And Thank you, Balladeer, for the constancy of your readership....And for the depth with which you do it!

suthern
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Seraphic
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723
Louisiana
17 posted 2004-03-04 10:13 AM


This is simply stunning... I only noticed the length when I realized how long it had been since I'd breathed. *S* Excellent work!
Ratleader
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Rara Avis
since 2003-01-23
Posts 7026
Visiting Earth on a Guest Pass
18 posted 2004-03-11 09:39 AM


NOW I can come back and say I think this is one of the best, perhaps THE best, piece of poetry I've read here since I joined PIP.

Masterful work, Ed!

Ed

~~(¸¸¸¸ºº>   ~~(¸¸¸¸ºº>  ~~(¸¸ ¸¸ºº>    ~~~(¸¸ER¸¸ºº>
______________Ratleader______________

WhileIWasGone
Member
since 2002-07-18
Posts 486

19 posted 2004-03-11 06:53 PM


*sigh*  awakened....

Beautiful

WhileIWasGone
Member
since 2002-07-18
Posts 486

20 posted 2004-03-11 07:05 PM


...read along with Fur Elise
WhileIWasGone
Member
since 2002-07-18
Posts 486

21 posted 2004-03-11 07:09 PM


As I look at a mere sketch ...
BluesSerenade
Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549
By the Seaside
22 posted 2004-03-12 12:20 PM


Thank goodness for slave drivers,
and the likes of Susie~  

wranx, this left me tumbling
and fumbling over the right words to
tell you what it means to read you.

Your introspection is like none other~

It's almost spring now, and after reading this,
my wish is that it will bloom for you in living color,
always~


Rdz9
Member
since 2003-03-16
Posts 142
MT, USA
23 posted 2004-03-12 12:23 PM


Amazin.... Nice write.
-Rdz

One in a sea of millions has the power to change the world...

serenity blaze
Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738

24 posted 2004-03-12 01:57 AM


I knew this had strong metaphysical properties, but yikes, the likes of LAZARUS?

wow.

I'm underwhelmed.

(Btw? Once this is printed up proper, you know I need a copy. Thank you suze, too, for being such an obviously loving muse to m'yeti.)


Susan Caldwell
Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348
Florida
25 posted 2004-03-12 08:02 AM


Uh...yes, what everyone else said...

I am at a loss for words

But I am saving.


iliana
Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434
USA
26 posted 2004-03-23 10:54 PM


Too good to not expose to others a second time!
Sadelite
Member Elite
since 2003-10-11
Posts 2519

27 posted 2004-03-23 11:51 PM


I'm such a novice at reading and writing that I can't claim to know one hundredth of the beauty and depth that's written within your words.  However, the richness of language kept me reading and visualizing, amazed at dazzling continuim throughout.  
(I'm not a very enthusiastic reader-somewhere I lost the boat earlier between college, work, and family.  This makes me want to read and read and never stop.) As someone said earlier, it is indeed a privilege walk the blue pages with you.
Thank you for all the dedication that went into this.
           ~Sadelite~

Post A Reply Post New Topic ⇧ top of page ⇧ Go to Previous / Newer Topic Back to Topic List Go to Next / Older Topic
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format.
navwin » Archives » Open Poetry #31 » Wasteland (complete)

Passions in Poetry | pipTalk Home Page | Main Poetry Forums | 100 Best Poems

How to Join | Member's Area / Help | Private Library | Search | Contact Us | Login
Discussion | Tech Talk | Archives | Sanctuary