. .. we sacrifice before the bronzed moon .. .

..bronzed moon




We vowed to meet
  at the grasp of night
under robes dressed
  with starlight golden
your auburn fringe tinged
  bequeathed so cliché
neither angel Malakh
  or JFK did appear
in the clearing, in the ebony
  of the cherry wood
while the crimson burning
  his face appeared alarming

I brought the ceremonial
  sharpened blade alone
altar cloths heavy stained
  the ones we saved
customs we have not seen
  through need nor any
measure of how much feeling
  viola moon might bleed
we garland rosebuds
  shamed of our awful deeds
laid our purest thoughts
  upon the forest carpet

the planets voices heard
  rumbled at the sacrifice
complained ’twas unfair
  as pelicans and pixies fly
against yon moon-slit sky
  yet did they stop to think
he would know, care one fig
  if in this age we proffer
at the yin-yang moon, talk
  again of gemini’s true gender
our masks are sock and buskin
  on the dark side they are runes

I pressed the platinum blade
  against his brazen, lava chest
testing my resolve as Abram
  his head turned away sharply
the canopy of earth’s splendour
  desists to render its regret
an intelligent assumption
  for who has greater need
should moon’s heart bleed
  or leak into earth’s oceans
a tsunami of treasons hid
  within the blade within my fist

Dinghees bob in half light
  no forest’s there to see 
pioneers search other lands
  who happened upon America
search long for space capsules
  950m southwest of Hawaii
or ‘pon the sands of Dungeness
  have you seen that coastline
in the sun of springtime zest
  or by the sea of tranquility
I deigned to change my mind
  put up my sharpened sword

Fair we love the august moon
  watchman at the highpoint
whose limpid eyes disguised
  see all, tell none, reflect the sun
within the darkened valley sunken
  his understanding face traces
tears of all the lost, the lonely
  disenfranchised and comely
unable to explain cries of pain
  filtered to his wizened brain
my clenched fist, my human blade
  my vengeance at his masquerade




You always hurt the one you love
The one you shouldn’t hurt at all
You always take the sweetest rose
And crush it till the petals fall
You always break the kindest heart
With a hasty word you can’t recall, so
If I broke your heart last night
It’s because I love you most of all

About edenbray

I'm a writer ... I write .. . I’m not sure why I ever stopped, was it 9/11? .. . edenbray is born ugly, wet and covered in blood, mucous and bodily functions ~ the effluence of my short life .. . I am a Writer and Artist since 1966 - I'm an avid Blogger ~ I write lots of poems, written essays, articles, reviews, opinion + comment .. . I have had many poems selected for Anthologies of verse and recently have published many of my poems in 24+ themed booklets ... please ask for details - join the shebang by leaving me a marker with a 'like' or a comment for my ego and encouragement and thanks for listening - I really value your interest ~ edenbray
This entry was posted in edenbray POMES and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s