I who have seen him
standing near....
All I can say is,
he must be tall indeed
for, although his eyes
were not far above my own
they seemed suspended
beyond my reach
twin goblets of stardust
in which floated rubies
and secret candles
celestial amber
with trapped cherubs laughing;
chandeliers of dark fancy
beacons of bliss
such as one would find
atop of the tower
of all fiendish longing
and wild possibility.
Here's a poem inspired by, hmmm, wonder which Antonio character? heheh
(pssssttttt--it recently won Honorable Mention in a poetry contest;) Just had to brag a bit...not that she likes it or anything*g*)
Man of Mystery
Man of mystery, who are you?
why have you made
an enemy of the sun?
Gazing into your eyes, I see
candles and skeletons,
flowers, wine, pillows, daggers
flutes and fireworks
and eternal night.
I want to lose myself
and I want to run.
A part of me wishes
to stitch myself onto
the mystery that is you
to adopt your wings
to bid farewell to the day
and marry the abyss.
What realms lie there?
What possibilities, what thrones
what unspeakable pleasures?
Your cruel beauty taunts me,
your tingling fingers, your lips
rich with intrigue, charring,
creamy, illusive, binding;
your eyes of eternal glamour
and sacrificial lightning
shame the timid dawn.
Do I embrace your bloody fate
surrender to your kiss of finality
or do I turn away
and step back into noon
with its futile schoolrooms
and humdrum delights
spurning the knowledge
that would make me a god
but annihilate my soul? ~*~
Click to see full sized
These three following poems were inspired by Once Upon a Time in Mexico....
Beauty, Loss, Revenge
Beauty was yours...
it lay over you in a crystal veil
it haunted your steps,
breathed you poetry, fed you roses
sitting in your eyes
both shy and wanton
frail and fawning
a numinous flame.
It dressed you in the patterns of joy
it was your castle, your hammock
your license, your wings.
You carried beauty
like a bag of golden coins
giving freely
so we could get drunk
in our lonely chairs.
Loss was yours...
a burning claw
that tore into your store
it ripped open your books
and ruined the numbers
dashing the tattered remnants
all around the blackened beams.
The poems written in the bloodied pages
were doomed to extinction.
Loss filled you with blades and smoke
and coins of blackness
a rotting doll
too cruel to kill you
it only sliced off the part of your skin
on which your soul was tattooed.
Revenge was yours...
it was a dirty horse
in an arena of hell
you rode with easy grace
wasting your coins
and flaunting your flag
as you charged on your enemy
like a matador of poison
piercing his brain
with the knives between your eyes.
You wrote your songs
in acid on his skin
strung your guitar
with his intestines
and drank fiery balm
from his blackened skull.
Now you sit against the yellow sky
your coins fall like dead butterflies
into our orphaned hands
and your notes drift upwards
like fretful angels
climbing a rope heavenward
only to find a locked door.
(Note: the author of this poem wishes to credit Delorita with the idea for the title...which ultimately led to the idea for the entire poem. Thanks Delchen!:))
Click on picture to enlarge
Cancion Para La Hija de El Mariachi
Your dangerous body spawned her
yet your knees were her friends
and your arms her curtains
she smiled and your blood danced
her eyes were black crystals
that set you ticking
synchronized with the stars.
your heart was a puppy
that followed her shining steps
kissing her feet
like the grass in the yard
rolling for joy
at her every touch
her satellite and shield.
She stood on your palm
and you watched her unfold
gazing into the center of all things
dining on her light
choking on her genius
fearing to waste a crumb
fulfilled every minute
yet always ready for more...
her tears were blades
that carved her name into every cell
clipping locks of your hair
to pad her sacred bed.
She gave you a name
when you had none
and her kisses knighted you
as she pinned it on your breast.
then you skipped in her garden
where the sun told stories
and the rain wept songs
and her questions sprang like flowers
that you picked to keep
in a damp and endless room
and the sky covered you both
in a shimmering tent
that protected her circus
from the scowls of outsiders.
~*~
Aloft
we perch aloft, you and I...
I on a tenuous cloud
purple as the dream of a bruise
you on a rail, your heart dangling
from the neck of your guitar
your soul filters through
a net of impossible tension
drops of blood transformed
into sugared vibrations
hovering in tiny heart pendants
that both sting and nourish
as the crowd grasps at the bills
that float into random leaf-piles
ignoring your wholesome notes.
From my lofty bed
I watch and listen
wanting to swoop down
on the wings of a huge grey bird
and carry you away
from your lonely iceberg
far from the circling sharks
and piercing winds
and choking smoke
up to my cloud which will turn
into a nest of down and blossoms
where I will transplant you
and graft my fruit to yours...
can I hope to do that?
or is the weight of your music such
that we would both plummet
into the freezing waves
that would swallow us both
as I cling to your wrecked body
riding into the arctic void?
~*~
Happy Birthday!
Antonio, when you were born
two of the finest stars
were plucked from the celestial apex
to take up residence
in your eyes.
The gods told them,
"Shine your brightest,
make friends with rainbows
take baths in honey
drop a little rain
sing lullabyes and lieder...
Wear cloaks of mystery
smolder with fires of umbrage
Expand and explode
smile on lesser stars
Let pixies swing from your beams
and elves fashion jewelry
from your incandescent dust.
No easy task, we know
but then...
look at the house you live in--
and here you thought nothing
could improve on heaven itself!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Pssst--if you are a Lord of the Rings fan, Armariel has a page of LotR themed poems here!
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