Tag: Poetry-Thing Thursday

Anything rhythmically or structurally varied from general fiction.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: In Your Waters

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Rise, Goddess;
Queen of blood,
of temples and beauty,
of madness and love.
Rise from the ashes,
of a life you once lived,
and rise to embrace,
the world as it is.

For hidden in shadow,
of legends tall,
of myths ancient,
is a magic that calls.

So rise, Goddess,
rise to its song.
Embrace darkness.
Enlighten yourself.
Rise up to greet
the world and,
make it your muse.

For deceptions abound,
and mystery surrounds,
but you’ll tear them both down,

For you, Goddess,
are rising,
and this world
in your waters,
shall drown.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Nothing So Cutting

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Sweat Glistens.
You listen–
skin-to-skin–
to my lesson.

The heart beat is true,
but one of few,
yet to be felt,
‘tween thee and you

Sex clings to air,
fingers grip hair.
So sealed are your fates,
of impassioned despair.

Stuttered breathing.
Milk-white breasts,
heaving.
Hefted in-hand,
what devious seething.

Miles away,
‘tween millions of days,
none can deny,
the animal sway.

It could be wrong,
but long heard’s the song,
of those now regretful;
“don’t worry, just do it,”
and
“cause life isn’t long.”

But the sea’s in your eyes,
and though known to defy,
even shallow oaths,
should now make you comply,
for recall there’s nothing so cutting,
as the sound of “goodbye.”

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Haven’t Started

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

One more last page.
One more closed book.
I’ve said it all before.
I’m never on the hook.

If only I could write,
every thought at light speed,
perhaps then the pages,
wouldn’t be worth a re-read.

Until then the seas,
and sun and moon,
the stars,
serve as my guides,
my only prison bars.

So one last page,
and one more new book.
I’m nowhere near done,
keep on the “out” look.

I haven’t even started.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: An Ocean of Time

~ S.M. Nolan ~ 1 Comment

The wolf paces in its cage,
awaiting an uncertain certainty;
an end will come.
Change has begun.
But whether his jailer,
shall be his executioner,
is a question only time may answer.

Alone in a dark and empty room,
sits a clown in full dress.
His white face is painted,
running black and red from tears.
For time has come and gone,
And still it carries on,
with it life goes,
for good or for ill.

Cuffed and shackled,
she hangs from the wall.
Dead eyes staring,
in testimony to a decayed soul.
And though she yet breathes,
her master will one day,
ensure she withers, bleeds.

Amid an ocean of time,
sails a ship of all existence.
Universes of countless beings,
multiplied by infinity.
And each one a story.
Each one a saga,
an epic.
Each one an odyssey.
And all of them
cohabit this place and time.

In the end,
an ocean of time,
is only the water,
upon which,
existence has sailed.

And we are it,
they.
However short or long,
our place on its line.
we occupy it,
together.