Posted in book review, Poetry

Moonstruck

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Up in the misty airy mountain yonder

Where trees and flowers never wither

The lunar beauty comes upon her

and covers her with a veil of silver

with a wreath of stars on her hair

In the luster of amaranthine glamor;

 

Then her eyes gather light and fire

Burning with felicity, rapture, or desire

Like a condensed colossal meteor

Wrapped in mystic eternal camphor

in serene brilliance of Moon’s Sphere

growing bright and glowing brighter;

 

Nymphs and fairies weave into the ether

The melodies of Aeolian harps sweeter

Softer than the milky way’s gossamer

Allaying the wild untamed waves of dander –

Her heart entranced with elevated Passion

Forgetting the nobility of exalted Reason.

 

P.S.: Fairie-tale is a fantastic means of translating an Author’s inmost feelings, deep-set emotions, and solipsistic philosophy smothered under the necessity of fulfilling demands placed upon daily tasks in existential life in the safest and, therefore, the most eloquent fashion the Author can rely on. As Edmund Spencer, William Shakespeare, William Wordsworth, and John Keats all used faeries as their faithful and wonderful subjects of their imaginative kingdoms, so do I take the liberty of doing the same as a way of escapism to the Otherworld where I can become all I want to morph into and enjoy what I covet without a moral qualm in the reign of religiosity. Here the subject of the poem is a maiden desiring of beauty which she believes to have been forfeited or deprived of by the callously whimsical play with her fate by the supernatural powers-that-be on a lark. 

Posted in Poetry

the secret of the sea

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In the wilderness of the great ocean

Lies a secret script of the Fate of Man

Sealed in the silence of tidal motion

In dissimulation of the opprobrious plan

Harboring the secrecy of the Age of Man

That gods so have kept to themselves alone.

 

The Ages of Man, the Plays of Man

On the Stages of Acts in Humanity –

Those gods wrote and watched for fun

In the theater of Comedy and Tragedy

As the Wheel of Fortune decided what

Would be played the next, and whatnot.

 

The heart of the ocean sends a pulse thru me

Of the secret hidden in the watery main

With the sunny breeze that pushed Odyssey

To sail forth against the forces of the divine

To find and write a new Age of Man to witness

The victory between the Scylla and Charybdis.

 

P.S.: This is a poem written out of my existential crisis in the reflection of Herodutus’s theory of the Age of Man. I am not a fatalist but a believer of luck as Shakespeare was. I believe that time and chance are what ascribe to the fulfillment of your ends in life or for the nonce. Didn’t Thomas Alba Edison also corroborate that a genius is made of 1 percent of ingenuity and 99 percent of efforts? I want to embark on an Odyssey to claim my own destiny.

Posted in Poetry

poesie #

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When the night gently descends upon the day on the earth’s bed

And he silences her secretly with a force of darkness

Whispering softly in delirium, murmuring faintly in fever

blinding her with an extraordinary frisson of ecstatic fear

the spirts of tragic heroines of love – Dido and Ariadne-

run to the top of the hill where the sky lies above the earth

and lament their earthly journeys that ended in love alone

as Hounds of Love howl beside the beautiful losers in love

till the lovers’ tryst ends in a mist of passion and intoxication.

 

P.S.: I am always inclined to the stories of beautiful losers whose loves for their figures of the affairs of the hearts are not returned because there’s something tragically beautiful in them. Dido, the beautiful queen of Carthago, was cruelly forsaken by trojan refuge and founder of Rome Aeneas and chose to end her own life thereafter. Ariadne was a Cretan princess who helped Athenian prince Theseus to kill the Minotaur and to bring out the Athenian youths from the labyrinth with her inscrutable ball of threads as a guide to a route out. But Ariadne was also later deserted by Theseus and let alone on an island and forced to marry Dionysus, the god of wine. Hence this poem about those who are unlucky in the affairs of the hearts. 

 

Posted in Poetry

Ballad of Dido and Aeneas

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Aeneas leaves Dido, courtesy of pinterest

From a land ravaged by a wooden horse with a golden apple for the fairest of the divine beauties appearing to a prince so young, so impetuous in judgment thereof,

There came a poor beautiful stranger destined for the supernal fate to rule the mortal to the diamond eyes of a maiden queen ethereal in beauty, graceful in act and hapless in love.

Blindsided by Juno’s machination, swept by passion growing strong, growing stronger for the stranger,

The queen bade him with tears and roses in succession day and night, in desperate attempt to keep his presence, his body and his soul, all but an entreaty so futile,

So forlorn, with a promise of her kingdom and her fidelity in return for nothing but his surrendering of himself to her and herself to him till the mortal fate was ended, till one had to cross the River of Styx.

Alas, but the queen’s to be thwarted, she’s to be abandoned by the divine plan forced by the arrival of Mercury, god of war whispering to the poor stranger for the imminent departure for destiny far more magnificent, far more supreme,

As dictated by Jupiter, god of all regions crossing death and life forever who put forward a divine plan over mortal feelings however pitiable.

Thus did the stranger set to sail the seas full of perils ever more.

The queen defied, she cried, she pleaded, but all ended in nought as the poor stranger was to depart cruelly with no tender words of love that’s planted, nourished,

And admired by the queen so now distraught by his betrayal of her love with her plea wreathed in tears and flowers.

Now her love became her poison consuming all of her ever more,

Now he became her foe ravishing all of her in surrender of love.

But what of it when all’s ended in a sea of heartaches thousand times, with no reason to reign as a queen without her lover by her side?

Nothing, nothing’s to remedy her spirit that’s broken thousand times, for nothing, nothing would console the lonely queen in cruel abandonment,

But the last will to burn her body and soul consumed in madness of passion on an ancient funeral pyre that engulfed every part of her whispering to her departing spirit that love would come never more – Nevermore!

 

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