Fragrant Pages

Fig and Nut Veils


you infused me, engulfed me,
craving the touch of your skin

A dance in the moonlight
A lonely dance of a ward
the dance of the courtesan
that stole your honey and milk aura

Your eyes, locked for none other
than me, the shameful
I held your life in my cradled
hands before my face

Yet you rest yours
on a silvery platter
after your untethered head
slipped from my lips, bloody
I will not disturb your slumber

 

 

The Black Tower of Aeaea


Cannibalise thy neighbour,
Oh, filthy warrior of Ithaca!

So there, this charm of pig’s leather
be thy last bout of Eros
Bow before thy barefoot
Witch of Trepidation!

Hath Poseidon not
turned thy sail to the
death that is thine only?
Thou hast fought
an unjust war
that was not thine.

Hath thy faithful shrew
at home not preserved
her purity for thee
whereas thou sacrificed it
cast it at my feet?
Even thy cur shall reject thee.

 

 

Amaranthine Penhaligon’s Large


hit the floor
Fuse the white white flower apelsitzo
with the red rosy-dosy, red gvastika

In the staja, all I dream at my goobas
is chai, kleb and eggiwegs
yet the Charlie speaks forgiveness
my glazzies pried open despite begs
Appypolly loggies and malivkas

And the great Bog
may keep my dusha
for my eemya’s nagoy in the gazetta
But why are some above the law,
And your faithful narrator less than a dog?

And who could condense
that your humble civil savant
robbed of his svaboda volly
would be the target of all taunt
all because of a little ultraviolence…?

 

 

Red against White

And wherefore doth
thy rose to the left
in red appear bereft
as it pledged a solemn troth
to a carnation?

Metallic sabre rattling fills the air
as the red dragon
as the red army
conquers the white army
conquers the white lion

Hast thou not harkened
to the foretold tale
of the star-crossed lovers?
Their fate could be thine as well
Oh throne of Albion

Cassini Report Daphne


along my spine
a tight corsette

On my head
a crown of bay leaves
leave me to my own
I cannot head on

To hold out
an offering to the deities
I offer an Olympic crown
a bowed head surrenders

At last may
Phoebus admire me
his divine fingers stroke
my rigid and frigid
arms and legs

 

1805 Effi


zehn Fuß waren nur zwischen uns
ein Arzt und ein Notar

Sein Leichnam ach gebettet nun
auf Tannennadeln- Bernsteinkies
doch sein Schuss touchierte nicht
mein zweiter trifft in das Gesicht

Keine Miseracordia
Keine Caritas für sie
Sie ist allein
so soll es sein

Meine Ehre ward beschmutzt
und so war es an mir allein
dies zu bereinigen
Gott vergebe mir.

 

Applause Castle Forbes Pequod


to crown the sea
to adorn the timber

instead of ice
the core is undermined
by the roots of
life-sustaining wood

legless biblical ship protocol
modified whale paintings
the biggest slashes in narration
by my harpoon

Elijah professed
I will wave one last time
tethered to your side
I will culminate
with you

 

Le Dandy D’Orsay Lolita


run over the tongue
like twelve-year-old whisky?

Who can withstand
the ginger-colored
temptation in the center,
the gentle sprout’s curves?

On the floor, I scattered
nail polish and
scented tobacco
I am on my knees for her

Jinxes mark my way
Have I not marked so many?
I cannot believe
the murmur in my name
could cause a quivering ruckus

 

Hugo Red Medea


die trotz des Zedernholzes
Motten sättigte und fing?

War es denn nicht jene Hand
vor kurzem noch geküsst
im Liebestaumel,
die verzweifelt zum Metallischen griff?

Ja, ist es denn allein an mir
im schweren Verrat
zu harren und erdulden
nur um nicht geliebt zu werden?

Ja, ist es denn nur mein Verschulden,
dass dieser hier nun so
seine Kinder wiedersieht
nachdem er Jahr und Tag
nicht eines Weges kam?

 

Golaçon Avon Anaïs [REVOLT]

Toubib, Toubib
j’ai accepté de l’essayer
mais mon impression, c’est foul
l’amour fou, folie à trois

En dessous de moi
j’ai vu le tapis, se transformer
en mer, j’ai le mal de mer
d’algues rouges et vertes

En dehors de moi
la porte, elle porte
la pagode, une pagode
faite des cantaloups orientaux

En dedans de moi
j’ai froide, je garde mon sang-froid
j’ai été battue d’ambre
je me sens flavescente

Toubib, Toubib
Juin m‘a volé mon identité
et entre repos et excitation
l’érotisme d’anise
s’éteint.

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