Three Poems

 

by Elise

 

 

 

 

Etch

 

 

And now it is silence,

it was always so,

a silence that haunts

my raging fists

to beat upon

the window

 

to grasp and choke,

to stifle life —

 

as I must now

defeated lay

in these rooms of

moss bleak Winters

and sleep the endless

sleep

— of nothingness

 

until each letter comes,

forms around my mouth,

where I might taste it.

 

And I shall etch it there,

 

your name,

 

etch it

there upon the oak

and wait for it to age.

 

 

 

 

Hunger

 

 

Slave

to your craving mouth

these words devoured

sink into your

         hungered soul.

 

Disperse

their silenced hymns

to your yearning

depths.

 

Until

all sanctum of my

earthly plight

         is sacrificed.

 

Until

all words

         . . . are yours.

 

 

 

 

Thought

 

 

Is there something

there amongst

         the dust

that could bring you back?

 

something un-missed,

face to face, eyes

to longing eyes —

 

which could have

foretold by chance

that place your

         beauty holds.

 

Or is it in desperation

to your

         torment,

I find myself so

incomplete?

 

         Is this

         the way roses bend

         before the pierce

         of thorn?

 

         Or is this the pain,

         as love

         returns to dust?

 

 

 

 

 

Elise is founding editor of Decanto Magazine.  Her video poems include her own musical compositions.  Her website is Poetry by Elise.