Ghost in the Pane

Captive of This House, photographed by Moondustwriter

Face fleshed press to glass

In a prism of this stifling

Cartography—

Uncharted waves of tempered light

         Spatially charged with a dimension

Infused into all

                           Memories remain, yet soon shall fade

Clinging tight you dare not cede

         The last shreds of

Life and dignity

                  And I wonder why

                  Why’d you evade the reaping?

                  How is it his sickle found not thee?

                  Are you afraid, of how things will be,

                  When fragments are all that remain,

Incessantly tormenting with their sparse refrains?

                 

                  I don’t know whether to smile or cry

I can’t decide if should pray for the reaper’s return

For I can’t see a fate forever resembling vengeance—

And here I must cry, for hell never had you in its plans…

For the New World Creative Union and their weekly Wednesday Wake Up Call.  Head on over, check out the prompt, read/view/experience the creativity on display, then get inspired, pretty impossible not to, link up and share your inspiration with everyone at the NWCU.

Happily Forever After

The sights are in lavender's and florescent green,
The mind drifts sweetly amongst raspberry and violet blue
The heart swims free, in the deepest red you'll ever see
The body floats atop vitality
The soul sways forever more

There's a thousand voices all around
yet only a few do your ears command
precious melodies made just for you
forever and always
eternally sharing it's life
the heartbeat of a melody
breaks free the chains of darkened night
allowing love's symphonies to sing it's purity of light

It's a place, like none other
where aromas stretch endlessly
through gusts and gales it's scent sets sail
ever reminding you of nourishment and care
instilling the memories of those times, those special
times, when it was never a question, as to whom cared

For all seconds yet to stir
internal visions embrace
the pleasures that result
from tactile bliss,
from the soft caress of a silkened skin
to those warm hugs you loved as a child
and those tender touches, tame to wild
and in such moments, nothing frays thin
when enrapt from the sensations echoed from a kiss

Where linguae mesh, merge and blend
a thousand pleasures primed to taste
sugary sweetness of nature's fields to
the mixtures made in combination, the
texture and the savoring, the nibbles and
the bites, only the favorable, where sustenance is birthed in fun,
where excitement builds into orgasmic scenes
every delectable moment wrapped into one

all life a-rest in balance
where harmonious sensations breathe within
from the parallel to the plane
a recumbency just the same
Supine and prostrate
prone to rejuvenate in relaxation's ease
internally flowing waves of pleasure's seas
to the soft blades of grass, to which the mind
forever wishes such moments to ever last

Perfect ideas swell in thought
enticing memories realized each waking set
where the purities intrinsic to your own beliefs
dance hand in hand with the fantasies and the dreams

All the senses make the one
heaven's breath breathed upon
the never-ending coda, the most beautiful songs of the swan
connecting the familial to the holy, that natural to the societal
ever joined in perfect companionship, always aligned in this, your
most blessed of blessings, forever immersed, forever alive, in
this newfound universe that you once did all you could to fight and stave, that's since become
a world that only ever feeds your soul with passion and love
an idyllic dream you wish and pray to forever stay, alive
with all perfections living as one, never alone, never far
from this sense of God's everlasting glow

Charles Miller is hosting Meeting the Bar over at D'Verse, and has prompted us to write about a world unlike our own.  I really enjoy world building, and have wrote many pieces with intricate settings, but for whatever reason, tonight, after rereading Charles' excellent write-up, I instantly grew full, with the thought of the perfect universe of the afterlife.  And while, not 100% fitting to the theme, I thought the muse should not be denied.  And that, is the backstory.

Please head on over to D'Verse, read Charles' excellent intro, check out what world's the other's have shared, and while there, perhaps you too, will become inspired to create a world of your own, but please do share when you do.

The Plot

Alliterate beings bound about

Illiterate minds cast shade in doubt

Literary figures stand strong

In this day and those beyond

Flash. 

Flow of the cold winter air. Circulating

In weathered strips of fermentation, the tears oft get lost in the creases-

Freely the fear freckles form

Uncanny.  A familiarity still-

As you’re left staring up the hill

Stone paths pronounced the trail

To the chapel house:

Where blackened shoes make their mark

Where wandering alibis come for their own

Where the darkness forms a cloud of clothes

Black and brown suits and slacks

Filtered grey veiled masks

In the interlude between patience and angst

“They keep the grounds very nicely, even with the snow and being so close to the road and all,”

“Yep, there’s never a sign of debris, nowhere”

Words. 

That’s all that remains. 

Words and memories of words and the way we attempt recreating images from those words. 

Some are distilled to paint the lines. 

Some distort the lanes of time. 

Others…

Are just words,

In a void,

Colorless and disturbed

Sometimes I wonder as you wait:

Do you feel lonesome?

Does the emptiness within consume you?

If it does I am dearly sorry

But rest assured-

It won’t be that way for ever-

And then…you’ll have me for eternity

Attending a Dinner for the Cursed

Splitting moments,

Spinning instant’s

Sequential and rigid,

Obsolete and unforgivable,

Challenging and formidable,

Spitting venom across the room,

Fork-sized, apt for dinner, not dessert,

Knifing through scholarly work,

Finding quotes, that when applied, rarely work,

Appropriate conventions that just may,

Invite two recently acquainted strangers

The seats just down from me,

Discussing everything they have in common,

Crystalline, hovering spheres,

Click, click, implosion,

Shards show quite the aptitude,

A devious inception,

A foot too slow,

A man of interest must be near,

Reapers, demons, fallen angels,

Each have eyes, and each are represented here,