Poetry Talk

Cold were the nights as they crept out of the cemeteries

in broken words, in shattered promises, in soulless echoes.

With rings with no fingers, voices without throats, footsteps

with no feet, they arose in unison. Black capes, red eyes, for

the world to call them names where one’s minds refused

to follow. Broken promises……

Fair was the moon when they first broke her heart. Out to the

harbors where no voices echoed, she screamed in blacks. To

the sinner and the sinned, whose pen decided her fate to 

shatter? For once, the twilight never welcomed the changing 

faces. For once, the veil never lifted beyond the mask of 

many feathers….

Faint were the chimes that called her name in twelves. A shattered

mirrorball, a lonely cardigan and an empty fireplace. The rust on

the birthday knife shined darker in the quaintness of the night.

And out to the winds did the dandelions fly. Catching fireflies,

hoping to light the path to her lonely cascade….

A woman of many shades. A man of no wits. A house with no

heart. But the glistening from the leather belt caught her eyes

from miles apart. Tell me a story. Talk to me about your darkest

dreams. And the girl kept humming the old wives’ tale.

The old mystical lighthouse. The one that felt like home to her. 

The one whose railings knew her each birthday. For the day 

that the twelfth chime echoed, was the day that she felt free.

For the day that her blood stained her bathroom tiles, was the

day she felt the steps to hell…

And out to the cemeteries, she walked. To every human face

that found her eyes saw her vacant gaze. The day she 

shuddered at the thought of her “home”, to the day she laid

in blossoms. “O Mother! My Mother! For now I am free and

you be bound to me forever”. “For now you light my candles

and I watch your sins”…”O Mother! My Mother!……”