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Friday, October 3, 2014

AUGUST 8th (IN MEMORY OF THE AUTUMN DAMASK)

The world gazes shocked
Dawn has refused to wake up
August 8th
The reluctant gored sun
A hesitant pendulum
Suspended on frail certainty
Dances to the banshee
Shrieks of startled morning breeze
The willow knots her braids
The nightingale has lost her voice

August 8th
Afternoon yawns sadly
At it's muted sullen sky
Masked in cadaverous puffs
Heavy with O cursed bereavement
The dove weeps loud at precious
Feather blown by wind
The brook gurgles tongue-tied  -
''Loss is all I know''

The moon forgot
To come with her soft effulgence
The stars with a lot less winks
Last night
One big Star grew numb from cold
And fell from its hanger
Down into the black chasm

Loss and tragedy is ours
The house is empty and quiet
The heath is cold, no fire
Darkness is everywhere
But once you promised 
That you will be with me,
forever
Dear mother...

     -dougwa-

IT'S GROWING

Yes, I feel it growing
slowly 
like a  trickle
of some condensation 
on the roof top of our  nest
Some condensation
of all the sighs we make
in the ecstasies we share
In the wee moments
we are in each other's arms... 
Yes, it's growing 
in a trickle ... 
Single droplets unite into rivulets 
Forming into a river 
Foaming  into some madness of torrent 
With hungry passions  to drown
flaming desires ... 
The river is now in flood and we are
its captives ... 
Oh I'm drowning in this
love
and don't even try to help me out
'coz I'm enjoying every bit of it!


                             -dougwa-