I, Romeo


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“I defy thee stars”

twinkling in the world so bright,

A showering of power and might,

Shimmering glow of sweet innocence,

Dismembered ember, distant progenitor of my destiny.

You protected my ancestors upon the sea,

Against fearful shadows and hateful memories.

Yet here I am, a product of your mystery

Alone, and seemingly without a guide,

Embarking on a journey without any at my side.

 

“I defy thee”

That eats away the known universe

Carrying ancient legends of heroic deeds

Of fearless, selfless men who dared to bleed,

That sends angel gods whispering to my ears

To escape the paradox of wanting to be free

Of wanting,

Of time in memorial,

like scattered flowers in rotting sun,

Still exuding a day of soft petaled love

Nested passion, fated kiss

On a cheek, on the lips,

in a garden,

Under a tree.

 

 

“I defy thee”

though your beauty reels me in

A siren’s sweet melody licking heart’s wound

Of sorrow simmering in torn silence

Waiting for your ancient fire, burning,

Wanting in beauty, drowning

Under a cold starlit heaven, weeping

In mass self-destruction, bleeding

Unheroic dreams, written at my own birth,

My house is crumbling,

A spinning light in a darkened universe

A failed perception of reality though I try

A burned path of old destruction though I cry

In the shadows of city lights

Old fears of broken social order

Are still fighting in the streets

like bodies falling to the ground

with rusted daggers to the heart

love is a paradox that is only tasted,

and sorrow a potion that “shall be endured”,

drunk with an eternal silence,

A lonely drop under the universe

Just a drop left

Just a drop left

For me.

 

Life Stage


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I hope I’m not a “pantaloon” in my middle-age

Clowning around in my own self-importance.

with paunchy sides and drooping eyes

Silver–lined hair wanting repair,

Laughing at my own self-imposed despair.

 

I want to be elegant in my carriage

With eyes bright like morning’s light,

And poetic tongue—quick and lithe

to praise the soft petals of delight

And sing my urgent heart’s desire.

 

Who wants to be a doddering fool

With slack mind flowing with repetition

Of unsung dreams, and hopeless monologues

Of how things aren’t what they used to be.

 

Instead, take me to your snow-clad mountains

To drink, to taste, to breathe such majesty

And let my blood run wild like maple syrup

Such sweet infusion of sun and scent and

Spring me, pour me, take my every starlight fervor

For if “All the world is a stage”, I’ll be alive

til’ my last bow, when petals fall, my day is done

without so much of a second childhood.

 

April 1, 2015

*Note: Shakespeare writes of the seven stages of mankind, the 6th being the Pantaloon.

Poetry

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© Karen K.L.Espaniola and hinarising.com. 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Karen K.L. Espaniola and hinarising.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.