Category Archives: Poetry

and then i die into the self of night

Poetry

when the moon rolls out from the side of the shallows
like leaf fallen textured your nuptial kiss
roads lead to the blue lilac touch
sentimental of its libations
you are a beauty a scent of the river
carnal crypts between your arms of sin
where my imaginary lust lives elegantly
black laced skin blooms mauve symmetries of fall
with a view to live or die for desire
and love not
dispersed by the fluttering of your soul
tenuous silent with wine dreams i sleep
i drink the shadows scattered by the moonlight
when chromatic aqua murmurs i hear i
see woman moon with breast of dunes
wind round tortoise breeze of
earth desolate barren a sanctuary of stillness
i gaze stars of moonlight sky moonshine
nocturnal symmetries of soul mystical
and then i die into the self of night


You Suffered More Than You Know … (poetic-prose)

Poetry

Don’t think I was meddling because I
Saw more than the others. Everything about
You seemed transparent really, and each part
You thought was hidden appeared to me as
A book longing to be thumbed through-

What was I to do?

If you truly believed you were
Hiding your heart ~ you weren’t.
I didn’t purpose to see more than I had,
– Or make mention of it – but when the portal
Opened and light fell on a heart held captive; I was
Touched in a place normally reserved for weddings
Or baby showers. Of course, then, after you realized
How clearly I saw what you thought was hidden; you
Groaned and turned away from me. Trying to cram
Your heart back into a box; you asked me to keep
The secret and not say a word to anyone-

What was this place you had
Fashioned from your TRAGEDIES?

Musty chambers blemished from too many failures;
An unattended bedchamber replete
With bouquets of wilted flowers;
Frayed carpeting;
Curled wallpaper;
Cups brimming over
With anguished tears;
Letters of love, addressed
TO YOU, (written by your own hand)
Crumpled in tight balls and dispersed
Throughout the room. Downhearted; I
Knew this ewer called YOU was in need
Of an understanding soul

Asking if I could come
Closer to see better; you
Softened and showed me
A headstone where I might
Enter into your secret places.
From trembling eyes cleansing
Tears flowed, – an ablutionary ritual –
Each drop plunging into the hidden berths
Of skeletons long held in contempt. You shook
Abandoned as sorrow poured from your reddened eyes.
Misunderstandings, like rivers, surged past rocks and
Fallen trees; emotional barrens once bursting ripe
With the fetor of unfulfilled yearnings dissolved
Under the disembogue of an honest
Emotional climax-

Afterwards … reaching out with strong hands;
I tenderly bosomed the emptiness that remained,
And then pulled you into the fortress of my heart

Beyond Time

Poetry

There are facts that are certain myths
In this country in the wind,
Where no fire blooms, except for the petal in your eyes,
Where the oil used to summon miracles,
Blows the seasons from their weather.

And the fishes swim in the sky
Where cities sail forth with God’s single breath;
On this country’s nameless mountain the quick rock
Declares the dream of the rain.

There are facts that are certain myths,
Voyagers of the tongue,
Such certainties untouched by the rushing spell
Of the friendly moon and the warring sun.

Copyright (C) 2008, Edwin M. Cordevilla

Love of a Poet

Poetry, , ,

Never love a poetTo love one is absurdA poets love entirelyBeing given to the wordBad poets write of loveA moral for my daughterGood poets love themselvesLike a fish loves water The didactic part comes nowNot of love and not of poetOf happiness and loving lifeThe poetry’s in how you show it!

the man that fell from the porphyry sky

Free Writing, Poetry

manipulating the aura of the moon touching it with his hands

his eyes rearranging its tones,transferring its luminosity its photon waves toward the other sideof the serene space licking the sea wave

inside his eyes the seas,the archipelagos reflecting a sailing,a passage,a river of memory, a tear

he was now unable to.

his heart non-sonic his mind travelling listening to his inner voices inspecting the snake paths of remembrance

his soul.his bitterness.

he wanted to taste to drink from the cup of nature.but he was unable to

and the higher he floated,his sensations of deepness mesmerised him the isle was closing in, surrounded him clothed him with polychromatic shadow ghosts

.the island sky illuminating him with its porphyry-red eastern light

like a kiss of loneliness.

Medea Forms

Free Writing, Poetry

on the top of this ancient hill the most mysterious objects

are still hidden by modern manners

unnoticed myths dramas of euripides and sophocles

and the tourists and the new modern immigrants

walking as playing the chorus parts

but aphonous archaic reliefs with fast movements of the new land

our bodies before the music starts behaving as small amniotic universes

and our modernistic sad spaces are not for real

so our hands have the same form

without motion our walking dance mimic our dramas

and our looks suffermore and more

in this expressionistic theatre of life

Poetry

My phantom limb
Reels in the whirling north sea

while all I do
Is touch my lips

Drawing out
the philtre’d memory of your

Kisses like symphony
and of crimson texture.

White heavenly embers
have traced your figure.

Each speaks
Your skin’s shape.

Your smile is immortal in you.
After all,
It was your eye’s smile
Assured me this love true.

Kisses like symphony
and of crimson texture.

Your smile is immortal in you.