Poetry

Christian in Gomorrah

“Do you love me?” She said
as she rested her head on my shoulder.
The party behind us,
her eyes soft and lustrous;
beguiling, concealing
the truth of her feelings;
heart of ice that would only
grow colder.

An angel of death sang
enchanting refrains, while she whispered soft
promise of free love and
the sound of the rock band;
rhythmic, pulsating,
an abyss awaiting ...

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King ...

Moses of the Mojave
words and image by Robert Staniford

Icy embrace of night,
no cloud conceals the stars,
neither neon glow nor halogen spark
intrudes against high desert dark.

Colours lost in black and grey
with hours until the dawning day,
the slightest sound can rend the still;
distant diamond-back rattle carries...

A voice is heard
to speak within,
Spirit ...

Originally Posted by Baron

Beside the Lake

Damp twigs adorned with moonlit frost,
beneath two long dead trees which mark
the start of the steep spiral track;
a shapely silhouette dismounts
then leads her pony through the dark,
beneath the overhanging boughs,
to rest beside the frozen lake.

Purple eyes, which match the colour
of the winter night,

...

Tags: baron, beside the lake, poetry

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Punishment by Seamus Heaney



I can feel the tug
of the halter at the nape
of her neck, the wind
on her naked front.

It blows her nipples
to amber beads,
it shakes the frail rigging
of her ribs.

I can see her drowned
body in the bog,
the weighing stone,
the floating rods and boughs.

Under which at first
she was a barked sapling
that is dug up
...