PARTURE
Smiling, I embrace my grand departure,
When all my layers are dissected well,
And bared before cupids and the archer…
My book of shadows will appear to tell
Whomever wants to know about my life.
It lists the victims of my artistry,
My capers and my flights of pure delight.
Those few dark days, and days of majesty.
So much that I've done, I would do again.
My secrets are the treasures I embrace.
I have danced upon fringes uncertain…
Not a moment of regret… none a waste.
When that curtain falls, my final barter…
Then I will embrace my grand departure.
SNOW
The snow fell quietly onto the stones
That formed a road that ran right through the town,
It made me feel secure inside my home
Although it made no impact, made no sound;
It was as if the shadows dared to form
Such animated objects for the night
That specters found a pulse, their blood was warm,
Beyond the limits where their fears ignite;
They didn’t stray from that, their snowy lane.
Parading did not bother the pristine
Banks of snow that steady grew the same
Ambivalent decisions while I dream…
So as the dungeons mumble, mystery roams.
The snow fell quietly onto the stones.
THE VERGE OF LOST
If you whisper goodbye before you go.
That’s really all I ever need to know;
Look through the stained glass window to my mind,
The final memories are there, you’ll find;
Restraint, desire, and passion I still see
At war inside your eyes as we proceed
Along the road less traveled Frost has kissed…
It makes me wonder what I may have missed;
Yet, I stand.
Quite alone.
On the edge of time,
On the verge of lost,
Inviting chaos.
Because I simply
No longer care.
CAMELOT
My nerves are calm, my senses are heightened.
I know that there is something I forgot.
Imagination’s dance does not portend
The burning of the torch will be too hot;
The pain of love relentlessly abjures
The healing words that might alleviate
Some of the hedonistic scare it lures.
If only I could fully concentrate!
I want to be so overwhelmed that I
Track you into an alley’s rancid scent
Without even a thought of my demise,
Or harbors of the past that won’t relent.
I treasure promises of Camelot…
There is something important I forgot.
ALLEGORIES
This house has lain abandoned for some years,
No furnishings are new, and it appears
The tiles are slowly thinning on the roof;
The pristine staircase now shows cavities,
The bosom of the ballroom sags and sways,
Though columns falter now and then, and seize,
Although the victrola faithfully plays;
My gardens are a tangled mess of vine,
The pathways gnarled and garnished with regret;
Foundation crumbling, still, I can’t define
A reason to sustain this ancient mess;
The moat around my house is filled with tears,
This house has lain abandoned for some years.
THE BOOK
I dream in shadows, casting eerie spells,
Outside the realm of what is meant to be;
Inside my book of memories, it dwells,
Between the pages - where your eyes can’t see;
Each time you mention living in my heart,
I’ve given up explaining that can’t be…
The heart is an appendage without thought –
Its animation pumping blood, you see.
A heart is flexible, it cannot break.
Imbuing it with attributes: a joke.
That fire in you, no heart will ever slake.
You don’t invite contentment, love will choke.
The book is lovely, and I guard it well.
I dream in shadows, casting eerie spells.
SPACES
There lies a space between heaven and hell
Where visions spark with mental images,
Reality can touch the path as well,
Where purgatory seeks wild vestiges;
The hands of time draw faces life withheld,
As though torn phantoms fence forever more;
The flavor will not serve the guru well,
Nor will the antebellum coat she wore.
This place protects the evil and the good.
There is no place here to discriminate.
No human chooses how the content should
Display to then appease the arm of fate.
The stories from that path would cast a spell…
The one that lies between heaven and hell.
FRACTALS
Your breath upon my neck, your scent, your touch…
They make the sun come out after the rain;
The memories we share have meant so much…
I know I’ll live them over once again;
You opened every door inside my mind,
And helped me to explore the mysteries;
The fractals spun aloft, three quarter time,
To lick the edges of reality;
Eventually, we know our time succumbs –
A mutual demise in its own sphere –
I wanted you to know my body hums
A symphony nobody else can hear.
Your breath upon my neck will sting again,
Although it causes momentary pain.
PLAY ME
Play me softly, I am your piano,
Your fingers may caress the ivory
Of misaligned arpeggios, I know,
Will somehow shadow my reality;
Coax the sounds of redirected beauty
As you seek to misconstrue my worth;
Mar my surface as you look right through me
Without a care for what I might disburse.
A virtuoso pianist may scorn
The practiced genius you pretend to be,
As deep into my surface, cuts are worn,
Ensuring nothing pure is left of me;
So all that does remain is what you know…
Play me softly, I am your piano.
WINDOWS, DOORS, AND STAIRWAYS
A pinch of love and just a dash of hope,
I can’t remember how, or I would smile;
Windows, doors, and stairways - I will cope
With all the danger they may reconcile;
Adventure was an invitation drawn
With one long and debilitating breath,
I don’t know how the knight captured my pawn,
Or why he won’t eradicate this mess;
The magic in the moment seemed surreal
As all my fantasies appeared to stir,
I couldn't explicate the way I feel,
It was as though my heart would not concur.
And with humility, my sadness spoke –
Of bits of love and just a dash of hope.
ALL HALLOWS EVE
All Hallows Eve draws ever closer now,
The renaissance of spirits looms so near…
I don’t have every belfry quite prepared,
Although the most required have appeared;
The spiders have been busy at their looms
Preparing webs to fashion the décor,
The shadows have perfected th
eir full moons,
And vampires promise not to mandate more
Than just the quantity they must acquire…
The witch’s brew is a new recipe,
The Grimoire lists specific herbs, the mire
Took days of searching, yet I feel relief!
Resurgence of the spirits lights the gloom…
All Hallows Eve arrives with the full moon.
MADAM
Round here there’s old cigars and cheap perfume,
Where singers croon and pianists engage,
In every fantasy, up in her room,
The lady of the house takes center stage;
No other madam ever stole her fame,
Her legend will survive the test of time;
No fortune could procure this chatelaine,
Her memoirs are the stuff of the sublime;
Some say some charlatan once stole her heart,
Back in the early days of her pure youth;
The tale is that she never found the part
Allowing her to share a love, in truth;
And so she entertains up in that room
Amid the scent of smoke and cheap perfume.
I
I live in every book you ever read,
I paint each sunset you have ever seen,
I carve the forest path where you have tread,
My music is the voices in between;
The colors of your dreams are my decree,
The accent of your mind bears my relief,
The scent you breathe is freshness touched by me,
My words form your expressions, although brief;
Your fingers drifting on a page touch me,
Your thoughts blend with the arrogance of time,
Your images are like a symphony
My mind replays each day a thousand times;
No matter what is logical and said,
I live in every book you ever read.
LULLABIES
His photographs were soft like lullabies.
I felt him like a splinter from a thorn.
In my imagination, his disguise
Cavorted through my body like a storm;
My power came when he was powerless,
I was a conduit for his deceit;
To wear some stranger’s shadow, he’ll confess,
Split by dismay, bereft and incomplete;
Reflections in the water are not mine.
I cannot be what he wants me to be.
I will not morph into some shallow mime
In order to restore his dignity.
That touch of sinister that clouds his eyes
Discounts the presence of his lullabies.
THOUGHTS, DREAMS AND PROMISES
Teasing the edges of my sentience
Through sinful carnality of your mouth,
We break the spine of time to reminisce;
Were those the dreams our hearts grumble about?
Your words found a chasm inside of me
Left vacant through some crudely applied fate;
Bathed in the delight of self-prophesy,
Their calm is the demesne that I await.
The advent of this life’s fresh blank pages
Amid quills with endless supplies of ink,
Scraped by knuckles of hell, ash enrages
But leaves options open, for now, I think.
The cursive ripostes from outlaws I know,
A whispered promise: I won’t let you go.
A DREAM
Tell me what you want when you smile
slightly in your dreams, and your tongue
runs briefly over your lips… what are you dreaming of?
Perhaps it’s the ghost of a glance across a very crowded
exhibition of medieval paintings that finds you dreaming
of my eyes cruising your body, dancing
over your erection like a whispered touch.
Do you know that I’m merely attempting
to imprint that moment upon your psyche
so that every future time you notice anything you see
and feel during this evening, you will become erect…
Sitting on a plane, you close your eyes
and become restless with the memory
of my lips on yours, my tongue wetly anointing
your skin. And I want your eyes to glaze over
when you open them, and your lips to form my name...
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About The Author
I have always been intrigued by the many facets of romantic love combined with erotica to chase the senses and tantalize the psyche. While living in the present, I welcome the specters of the ancients to join the performances within my mind, and to share them. This is a work of fiction, something that was created in my thoughts and given life through words. I hope that you enjoy the journey.
My Blog: https://www.ladygenevieveswhispers.com/