Fall of the Houri

This is another recent one. This was a birthday present for Laconia.

Fall of the Houri

A streak of light

fiery and radiant

The Houri falls from grace.

Sailing, shining, crisping, crying

The flesh weeps in disgrace.

Once, she dined

of carnal mind.

She savored man and machine.

Standing tall

until her fall.

One soul,
One mind,

One being.

Silken ivory bodice

aquiline voluptuous goddess.

Sleek strands of onyx

coiffed ebony perfection.

Lapis seas and crimson flames

fire and ice mixed sensually

Tempting mortals to divine grace,

a testament to reality.

Worldly, with

worldly tastes,

worldly needs,

worldly frailties,

temptation leads her astray.

As Houri, she loves deeply.

She loves with more passion

than a thousand mortal men,

however that is not why she has fallen.

Trust is what failed her.

She trusted in mortals, and

as mortals, they corrupted that trust.

They used that link,

abused that link,

defiling all she knew.

When she needed help

They spat in her face.

Now she lies among mortals.

Wings turned to ash,

mortality her constant companion.

In some way,

she almost seems better for it.

She has found new trust

She has found new joys

She knows what it is like to fall

and how never to do so again.

Her fall from grace

was hard and fast,

but maybe someone will catch her

a falling star,

a fallen Houri

an angel, in mortal form.

Musings on a single grain of sand

Here's another one of mine. This one is actually rather recent. It's written to/about Laconia, a close friend of mine who wrote a poem shortly before I wrote this about the loneliness of a grain of sand. I wrote a poem to counter hers, and to cheer her up.

Musings on a single grain of sand:

There is little I can envy more
than a single grain of sand.
Minute pebble,
silently traveling the world,
filled with potential.
Unspoiled, pure.
One with the world
shaped by the world
leaving its impression,
forever on the world.

Where will it go?
What will it be?
An ocean of potential awaits.
Infinite experiences
both past and future
lap at human shores.
A pearl, radiating soft and milky love
A spotlight, shining perfection
A rose window, comforting and consoling
A glass toy, more relaxing compliment than lonely replacement
Infinite possibilities,
all existing at once.
All potential existing at once
within this one point of being.

This serene orb
leaves an indelible mark upon
all who harbor it,
changing their lives forever.
I know my life
will forever be better
from the passage
of that single grain of sand.
Some are irritated by it,
building up barriers and roadblocks
trying to stop this radiant grain.
Their futile struggle only makes
this grain stronger, more valuable,
and more beautiful.
(even though I don’t know how that’s possible)

The world would be far better
if there would be more grains of sand in it.
I would be far better
If I had a grain of sand
to accompany me into the world.

Tribute in Verse

Yeah, this was originally for a class in the style of A few lines composed above Tintern Abbey, but I put a little more into it this time.

Tribute to Great Men

Step across the seething marsh,

And peer inside the twisted ruins,

Memories of past life abound

And hang stark against the drained, the dreary,

the here, the now,

The reminder of life forgotten and faded.

To the left, a tangled mass.

Once glorious rows of blesséd fruit.

Ambrosia once flowed from these vines.

Blood and sweat,

Life and love,

Time and tears.

All poured into this hallowed ground,

this sacrament to great men.

The lifeblood of a generation,

shed to sustain this land.

My forefather nurtured this land with his last mortal breath.

Now all that remains of his passion,

His life's work,

His very soul,

is the ruins of a once great farm.

Now all that remains of the once pristine plants are tangled wrecks,

Seething masses,

Wizéned and thorny vines choking apple trees.

What was once the envy of the county,

becomes a tribute to mourn the passing of great men.

What once made the finest cider in the land now only serves for

worms to drink their fill.

Look upon these last vestiges of life:

The few remaining windfalls,

Sweetened by time, age, passion.

Taste the sultry sweetness.

The scarlet red, so vivid,

the color washes away the sorrow,

if just for a moment.

The silky taste, conjuring phantom memories of

passionate love shared under these ancient boughs,

The tears shed for young love, lost in a distant land,

The joy of redemption,

The serenity of knowing that the family is whole once more.

But even as you finish,

Know what has been shed here.

Remember the cries of passion unmeasurable,

of agony unbearable.

Remember the whispers of a legendary deal.

A man for whom the livelihood of his body,

Shall be the lifeblood of his land.

That when he could no longer raise his ancestral land,

Both should wither and perish.

That was the legacy of a great man.

So as you wander through this forlorn tribute to great men,

Raise your applecore up on high.

Remember the sacrifices made these great men,

And cast those seeds you hold to the heavens.

Let new life sprout from the legacy of greate men.

Let memories of new passion sprout.

Let these great men not go forgotten.

But most of all,

Let the heritage of great men flow through you

As you cast the seeds of a new generation to the winds.