Plastic Saviors for Paper Ghosts

A backgammon reservoir

rules the castle ever-more

for it was the bishop

that chose not to address the poor

Stranded tiles wait in-turn

for their time of elocution

yet time grows lost

approaching vindication

Vacant properties remain unsold

for ghosts I’ve heard live within

and as time does drift, the condemned stir

a passive voice attending to one’s present sin

Failed hypotheses draw the man,

upon a scaffolding’s verbose display,

ill-conceived choices and unlikely

provocations impel theory to a swift decay

For plastic saviors come to show

when paper ghosts entrench what’s known

The Mephistophelian Provocation

Well, I'm a bit late to the pub this week, but I'm thankful that Claudia kept the doors open as I definitely needed a poetry fix.  And that of course means that, as is the case for every Tuesday, Open Link Night is up and in effect over at D'Verse.  Stop on by, read some terrific poetry and while there, link up a poem of your own for others to enjoy.  Cheers!


I. CAGE OF SIN

In this age of terminal belligerency

A hex, a pox is placed upon thee—

Tingeing forth the pummeled plant

pressing through the groveling glass—

Thine heirs be slain,

in judgment for thy sins,

Each those chosen prior to

and the ones yet coming to pass

Silence these ne’er-do-wells

housed enslaved, voicing perditions

for which man’s inner weakness craves

Dwell in the aged moment’s freeze in time

linger long ere thy dreams clash therein

Fore in such a place, amidst the blinded vermin,

friends be replaced by the slithering tongue,

within the wretched serpent’s cage of sin

II. A Signature upon Shedding Skin

Beware the pomegranate kind—

sacrificing winter, for a fleeting summer’s moonlight dance

Bathe long in thy sweated skin—

before ye blood hath spilt upon demon’s pact

Return ye shan’t; regret falls moot

for what has waxed, will surely wane—

Returning all thy suffering—from fathoms deep

to an ever weeping flame charred sky

When debt comes due,

redress accrues the interest kept

III. Forcing the Hand of God

While thy prayers be pronounced,

And thy annunciation understood—

  

The heavens must flood forth its tears,

flowing forward, despite—because

of God’s ever-existing paternal love

Yet—because thy scrolls be scribed

by bloodied pen:

Thy penitence must be denied,

Thy soul, to Hell, must be sent,

And such is the price one pays

for abandoning:

Thy belief in ye self,

Trust in God’s will

Thy Faith—Thy wisdom—

That God shalt keep ye safe

And such is the fate,

of men who:

                           Fraternize with unholy beasts—

                           Break bread at demonic feasts—

And there is no saving

A man consumed by deicide

Penance

Every clipping, sharks the gullet of vacancy

Shadows culling dreams well worn

Vixens, Vipers, Viragos, Asps

A venomous caldarium

Scalding with each splash

Steam shrouds the succubus inside

Layered lids lay listless amongst yarns & lies

In lieu of the lackadaisically leveled Libran scales

Weights unmeasured risk resurrecting the waxen toll

Talismans and their phylacteries

Fringed magical, frayed too fine- 

For the tricks of precursors translucent lures,

Doting singes temple speak; the scriptures tome-like tones repeat

Crafting divinity from a collage of time; Divinations all

Until the sickle reaps a harvest’s moon

Until the stone wets, once sword relinquishes tenures term

Every extract, sharks the gullets of mind

While shadows sift the wraiths of love,

Resplendent twinkling’s flash before

Safely plucked as tensions quell the thirsts of yore

The fields of perdition

Flooded, by permafrost

Then awoken in oil-

To which, but one stroke

Can set the match