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IndigoEve
Member

since 2003-01-10

Posts 279
Etched in the illusion of time

0 posted 2004-01-01 03:16 PM

I will not say beauty unto the skies, they are undeserving of
coffee-stained sunsets, bleeding tears of impeccable certainty
and unlashed hue,
bound by immortal hands, Skadi breathes winter toward me.
She paints by silver and blue-stained tones,
carving brevity strand by crystalline strand, into
my fraying hair, and there is solstice long-forgotten
winds bringing offerings of golden fire, awaited springtime whispered
of me.
I accept.

In the essence of time, there are seasons, like threads
stitched evenly through my fingers playing melodies on your
porcelain face, blush.
Seasons swallow eternity away, away from soul broken
masterpiece
colors blotted too fine, too narrow for notions, alive.

Will you string yourself through vernal pleasantries, woven
peonies shivering under the touch of our skin,
but there is still winter..

Yes,
bitterly rarefied, undancing voices caught in the throat
of icy snow strewn roads, brown dirt overcome
with indefinable white, ashen wholes of splintered addictions to
lust after summer's greenery.

Are we home yet, love?
Miles and miles to go.

Her jealousy is everywhere, goddess of silver sun,
shattering glass pervaded delicacies found only in the words I
speak and
pen I weave.
There is unrest, unsettled iniquities rising near us,
and I hold you closer,
as the fire of envious azure bled me pure,
eyes penetrate.

Lashes gently brush tainted cheeks, I see
that you can sense aberration as
I do.

Oh, forgive us, he lends me susurrations bottled fragile
wine soaked whispers,
intoxicatingly quelling ado, almost sensing
velvet tongue.

My black iris, you and I are prisoners to
her morbid gaze. I embraced her kindred favors, and she
admixed your heart and my eyes to forever intermingle, faintly.
We are one, and yet we are distant,
winter breaking your splendor and handing it to me, in pieces
of ebony silken petals,
were you not violette once, my love
before she came?

In heavily enamoured presence
I wait for Cordellia
to bleed me a summer of shame

'til then,
oh wintry sighs, bid me hush.

I shall abide.

If I were to touch you, would you bleed a velvet river, running miracles through the sodden ground? --Moi

[This message has been edited by IndigoEve (01-01-2004 03:17 PM).]

coyote
Senior Member

since 2001-03-17

Posts 1077

1 posted 2004-01-01 05:23 PM

"My black iris, you and I are prisoners to
her morbid gaze. I embraced her kindred favors, and she
admixed your heart and my eyes to forever intermingle, faintly.
We are one, and yet we are distant,
winter breaking your splendor and handing it to me, in pieces
of ebony silken petals,
were you not violette once, my love
before she came?"

Now that's poetry!

I liked the entire piece, but these lines especially.

CB 8)

Trillium

Member Patricius

since 2001-03-09

Posts 12098
Idaho, USA

2 posted 2004-01-02 02:43 AM

Indigo Eve: Every poem is an adventure! I'm so glad you are sharing your outstanding
work with us!

Betty Lou Hebert

Beasley
Senior Member

since 2003-11-28

Posts 682
Cheboygan,MI USA

3 posted 2004-01-02 08:43 AM

This is terrific!
Barb

Marge Tindal

Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-06

Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores

4 posted 2004-01-02 01:59 PM

IndigoEve~
You talent far exceeds that of many of us who post on these pages ... I hope you are working on being published !!!!!!!!
*Huglets*
~*Marge*~

~*When the heart grieves over what it has lost,
the spirit rejoices over what it has left.
- Sufi epigram
[email protected]

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