I.
My name was whispered as time was born,
will be the last echo as it comes to an end.
Of my body, the earth took form,
The wind borrowed my breath,
my tears became seasons of rain and fire.
I am not of magic, magic is of me.
Within my soul rests the core
that engulfs the eternal sphere.
When your desire reaches for me
I will dance like a mirage
And vanish…
I am, yet I am not…
© Oct 16, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
II.
I am a god through creation,
yet I am not the God of Creation.
Letter by letter
I turn whispers to sighs
and place them in the empty spaces.
Word by word
I shape images onto parchment
and leave time lost between moments.
Page by page
I yearn to search behind the shadows
the secrets summoned by fire's glow.
the gentle whispers that beckon…
© Oct 17, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
III.
Murmurs spill the ink of passion
as I write into the night
upon wisps of desire.
Your eyes feed
on the blood of my words
like a starving vampire.
I seek not the body mortal;
it is your soul I wish
to cast upon passion’s pyre.
your heart, the wick, which ignites…
© Oct 17, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
IV.
The dance of longing
between flame and wind
consumes life’s stage
as shadows pretend.
Illusions of need
hold the lines,
truth transforms
within love’s confines.
Love engulfs with each drop of wax
morphing tears of pain
through memory’s collapse.
rains offer, yet another, morrow
© Oct 21, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
V.
I am the beginning fog that finds
all secrets hidden within shadow,
The ending rain which falls
to expose the depth of sorrow…
There is no truth to time,
to think is to exist.
Memories trapped within each tear,
(the bloodletting of mental pain)
Shall be my crown and sceptre
When I end the war and reign.
My thousand years in a moment shall trump
your moment in a thousand years.
The sand becomes the glass…
VI.
Passion searches between
the beams of the moon
Longing to touch the remnant
of chords left out of tune…
There is no time for lies,
to think to create.
Singing birds orchestrate
the lust in harmony’s song.
All worlds stand enchanted
as time begins to unwind.
Recurring moments of "now"
strip “was” and “will” of all need
The glass needs not the sand…
VII.
The immortal elixir stirred and poured…
I drink of myself (am I not a god?)
Giving from life eternal, as I am life itself
all love returns from whence it came
Taking scripts old and new
to flow once more in endless storm.
Offering no tears of repentance
yet receiving the rains of salvation.
Cascading effect of eternity
falling forever back upon itself.
A mirror gazing into a mirror,
never to begin, never to end.
The is no reason to chaos…
VIII.
I am the light you seek in darkness
and the darkness that stains the light.
Encompassing the spectrum
there is no end, ad infinitum.
Order seeks not the offer of reason
chaos offers no reason to seek.
Of one another extremes do tend
to remain on the dance floor of thought.
I am blinded by depth of mans’ faith
yet see through the shallowness in his mind.
Greed perpetually feeds on passion
as passion attempts to purify the need.
As the dog chases his tail
the god curtails the chase.
I am, yet I am not the answer…
© Feb 18, 2014 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
NOTE: Subtitled "The Spirit of Poetry" (in 8 parts)
IV.
The dance of longing
between flame and wind
consumes life’s stage
as shadows pretend.
Illusions of need
hold the lines,
truth transforms
within love’s confines.
Love engulfs with each drop of wax
morphing tears of pain
through memory’s collapse.
rains offer, yet another, morrow
© Oct 21, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
V.
I am the beginning fog that finds
all secrets hidden within shadow,
The ending rain which falls
to expose the depth of sorrow…
There is no truth to time,
to think is to exist.
Memories trapped within each tear,
(the bloodletting of mental pain)
Shall be my crown and sceptre
When I end the war and reign.
My thousand years in a moment shall trump
your moment in a thousand years.
The sand becomes the glass…
VI.
Passion searches between
the beams of the moon
Longing to touch the remnant
of chords left out of tune…
There is no time for lies,
to think to create.
Singing birds orchestrate
the lust in harmony’s song.
All worlds stand enchanted
as time begins to unwind.
Recurring moments of "now"
strip “was” and “will” of all need
The glass needs not the sand…
VII.
The immortal elixir stirred and poured…
I drink of myself (am I not a god?)
Giving from life eternal, as I am life itself
all love returns from whence it came
Taking scripts old and new
to flow once more in endless storm.
Offering no tears of repentance
yet receiving the rains of salvation.
Cascading effect of eternity
falling forever back upon itself.
A mirror gazing into a mirror,
never to begin, never to end.
The is no reason to chaos…
VIII.
I am the light you seek in darkness
and the darkness that stains the light.
Encompassing the spectrum
there is no end, ad infinitum.
Order seeks not the offer of reason
chaos offers no reason to seek.
Of one another extremes do tend
to remain on the dance floor of thought.
I am blinded by depth of mans’ faith
yet see through the shallowness in his mind.
Greed perpetually feeds on passion
as passion attempts to purify the need.
As the dog chases his tail
the god curtails the chase.
I am, yet I am not the answer…
© Feb 18, 2014 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
NOTE: Subtitled "The Spirit of Poetry" (in 8 parts)
Had to check out your blog again. Very pretty :) I like the idea that you are not of magic, magic is of you.
ReplyDeleteThanks Jean. This is part I of an VIII part piece. A poetry contest entry. I hope the rest of it turns out as smooth.
ReplyDeleteHave a great weekend. Blessings of love and inspiration to you.